Bakugo Katsuki was impossible to ignore, of course. His explosive personality and quirk made him stand out from day one. Wherever he went, the air seemed charged with tension and heat — whether from his literal explosions or his fierce, unrelenting drive. To most people, he was loud, aggressive, and impossible to avoid. But to you, Bakugo was just noise. A storm raging on the edge of your vision — distracting, but ultimately unimportant.

You noticed him mostly in class and training sessions, where his intense competitiveness was always on full display. He was the type who charged forward without hesitation, exploding through obstacles with brutal efficiency. His talent was undeniable, but so was his temper. He often snapped at others, especially when they slowed him down or challenged him. He was difficult to approach, and even more difficult to get close to.

Because of that, you never really gave him much thought. He was just one of many classmates, a force of nature you’d learned to tune out. Your focus was elsewhere — on your own growth, on mastering your quirk, and on surviving the relentless grind of UA. You preferred quiet, and you preferred distance.

When your birthday came, you barely noticed. There was no fanfare, no special celebrations. No one had mentioned it, and you hadn’t expected them to. It felt just like any other day — the usual classes, the usual training, the usual exhaustion. You spent most of it alone, and you didn’t mind.

But then, later that afternoon, after the final bell rang and most students had already left the dormitory common areas, there was a knock at your door.

You opened it to find Bakugo standing there — a sight you never expected. His usual fiery glare was softened, replaced by an expression that was almost awkward, hesitant. In his hands, he held a modest bouquet of wildflowers — nothing flashy, just simple blooms you might find growing quietly around campus.

His face was flushed, a rare sign of nervousness that made you blink in surprise.

“Uh…” he started, voice rough but quieter than usual, almost unsure. “Happy birthday.”

You stared, unsure if you’d heard him right.

“Don’t… don’t get the wrong idea or anything,” he added quickly, rubbing the back of his neck like it embarrassed him. “I just… thought maybe you’d want to grab dinner or something. You’re always alone, doing your own thing, and I figured maybe you could use a break.”

There was a strange vulnerability in his words — a side of Bakugo you had never seen before. You blinked again, the wildflowers suddenly feeling much heavier in your hands than they looked.