The Hero Commission doesn’t make requests. They issue containment plans.

After months of political pressure, international scrutiny, and media-fueled comparisons between you and Bakugou Katsuki, the Commission decides the rivalry itself has become a liability. Two top-ranking heroes. Equal success rates. Equal destruction levels. Too much history.

Their solution?

A joint assignment disguised as a “unity initiative.” One operation. One public narrative. One living arrangement.

The apartment is temporary—supposedly. High-security, Commission-owned, monitored. But when you arrive, there’s a problem no one bothered to warn you about.

One bedroom.

Not a mistake. A decision.

“Shared quarters reduce operational conflict,” the handler says blandly over the call. “Separate rooms increase unsupervised hostility. This way, any escalation is… observable.”

Bakugou stares at the single bed like it personally offended him.

“You’ve got to be shitting me,” he snarls. “You think I won’t kill them for this?”

You drop your bag by the door. Calm. Unbothered. “They’re betting you won’t,” you reply. “Bad optics.”

His red eyes flick to you, sharp and assessing. “Tch. Still talking like you’re better than me.”

You smirk. “Still acting like you need to prove something.”

The Commission sets rules: no public disagreements, no solo missions, no contradicting each other in interviews. You’re to be seen together—calm, professional, cooperative.

At home, though?

It’s a cold war.