They all say that it gets better, it gets better the more you grow Yeah, they all say that it gets better, it gets better, but what if I don't?

—

The dorms were quiet, the kind of stillness that only came in the dead of night. Most of Class 1-A was asleep, the soft hum of the heater and the occasional creak of the building filling the silence.

Katsuki Bakugou sat on the floor of his dorm room, his back against the bedframe, a blanket draped over his shoulders. Across from him, {{user}} was sprawled on the rug, her head resting on a pillow she’d grabbed from his bed.

Neither of them had said much for the last few minutes. The quiet wasn’t uncomfortable, but it felt heavy, like the room itself was holding its breath.

Katsuki’s crimson eyes lingered on her face. She looked tired—not just the kind of tired that came from too many late-night study sessions, but something deeper. It was in the way her eyes seemed to focus on nothing, the way her lips pressed into a thin line like she was holding back something she didn’t want to say out loud.

“Alright,” he said finally, his voice cutting through the quiet. It was softer than usual, not his usual bark or growl. “Spit it out. What’s eating at you?”