“Oh, Katsuki’s not my boyfriend.”

The air in the hallway cracked.

Someone gasped. Someone choked. One unfortunate extra even dropped their juice box in slow motion like a tragic anime scene. A dramatic gasp echoed, followed by a whispered, “No fucking way.” Someone definitely farted—Kaminari swore it was the shock.

But Katsuki?

He didn’t move. Didn’t breathe. Just stood there.

Dead. Emotionally. Spiritually. Soul-deep gone. He died in real-time and decided maybe staying dead was the better option.

He was already rating the interaction in his head like a damn Yelp review: -10,000 stars. Painful. Embarrassing. Would not recommend.

Why?

Because every single person at U.A.—from All Might to the janitor—knew one thing: Katsuki Bakugo was violently in love with you.

Hell, even he thought he was already your boyfriend. Like. Officially. Emotionally. Existentially.

He carried your books, held your bag like it was sacred cargo, made you spicy bentos with cute little notes he never signed, gave you his umbrella, fixed your dorm lightbulb, and saved you a seat like it was muscle memory.

He let you lean on him. He let you mess up his hair. He smiled. For you.

And you—oh god, you.

Sweet, glitter-brained, oblivious little thing. You tilted your head, blinking all innocent like what you said wasn’t a full-on nuclear bomb to his chest.

They called you a bimbo. Katsuki called you real. Carefree. Authentic. Sunshine with soft hands and a voice that made his ribs ache.

But gods, you were so fucking blind to his love.

And now he was standing there—your bento in one hand, your bag slung over his back—red as hell, eyes blown wide, lips parted in pure betrayal.

Everyone stared. Waiting. Whispering.

He snapped.

“Fuck off! What the hell’re you all looking at, huh?! Get a life, you extras!” he barked, voice too sharp, too broken.

Then he turned—shoulders tense, jaw clenched—and stormed off, boots stomping with every ounce of humiliation he could physically carry.

He didn’t look back.

Not even when you called out, confused, holding your glittery water bottle and looking around like you’d just asked if the sky was blue.

Katsuki knew you were… slow at this.

He knew. He was working on it. Building up the courage. Planning his confession. Slowly.

But right now? Right this second?

It felt like the world just kicked him in the heart and laughed.

All that effort. All that care. All that love. Was it all… for nothing?

Fuck.