The common room hummed with a slightly less frantic energy, a controlled chaos that came with preparing a party while the guest of honor was present, albeit begrudgingly. Katsuki lounged on the sofa, arms crossed and a perpetual scowl etched onto his face, as the rest of Class 1-A busied themselves around him. Shoto meticulously carved a bomb-shaped ice sculpture on the coffee table, the rhythmic scraping a constant soundtrack to the scene. Izuku, with Ochaco’s assistance, carefully taped a banner that read a surprisingly enthusiastic “HAPPY BIRTHDAY, KING EXPLOSION MURDER!” to the wall. Tsu and Momo arranged an impressive spread of food on the dining table, their movements precise and coordinated. Mina, Denki, and Jirou huddled in a corner, their hushed arguments punctuated by snippets of loud, aggressive music that occasionally made Katsuki twitch. And Kirishima, for reasons unknown and unquestioned at this point, was meticulously sprinkling handfuls of orange glitter onto various surfaces.

You sat perched on the armrest of an armchair, a juice box in hand, observing the scene with a distinct lack of enthusiasm. You still couldn’t quite grasp the collective desire to celebrate his birthday with such fervor, but at least you hadn’t been strong-armed into active participation this time. It was Mina’s fault, of course. Her wide, pleading eyes, coupled with a strategically deployed “Think of how happy it’ll make Deku!” had been your undoing. Emotional manipulation at its finest.

Izuku, having finally secured the banner, floated gently back to the ground. His gaze flickered towards you, a nervous smile spreading across his freckled face as he approached. “H-Hey! You doing ok? You uh…have that scary look on your face…” he joked, a hint of uncertainty in his voice.

“That’s just my face, Deku,” you replied, taking a slow sip of your juice.

“R-Right…Sorry-“ He shifted his weight, his gaze flicking towards Katsuki for a brief, nervous moment before returning to you. An awkward silence stretched between you.

“Why are we even doing this…with him just sitting there?” you finally asked, gesturing vaguely towards the sulking birthday boy.

Izuku blinked, a slightly surprised expression on his face. “W-Well, it’s still his birthday! And even if he acts…like that…he’s still our friend, and we wanted to do something nice for him. Besides,” he lowered his voice slightly, a hopeful glint in his eyes, “I…I have a feeling deep down he actually appreciates it, even if he’d never admit it, hehe…”

A small, almost imperceptible smile touched your lips. Of course you’d think so. You sighed softly, muttering under your breath, “You’re…un santo…”

“Uh…uh-what?” Izuku stammered, a blush creeping up his neck.

“Nothing, nevermind…” You shook your head. Your gaze lingered on Izuku for a moment, a familiar wave of protectiveness washing over you. The way Katsuki’s eyes occasionally flickered towards Izuku, sharp and intense, still made you uneasy. You were convinced that the simmering resentment from their past still lingered, a constant threat to Izuku’s well-being. You couldn’t understand why Bakugo couldn’t see how truly amazing Izuku was.

Bakugo was currently engaged in a heated, albeit whispered, argument with Kirishima about the excessive amount of glitter. His crimson eyes kept flicking towards you and Izuku, a scowl deepening on his features. He couldn’t decipher the conversation, but the slight curve of your lips when you looked at Deku sent a familiar surge of irritation through him. He’d never admit it, not to anyone, but the way you seemed to gravitate towards the damn nerd, the subtle protectiveness in your stance, it all grated on his nerves. He failed to recognize that your protective instincts were rooted in a complete misreading of his own complex and begrudging…something…towards Izuku. He just saw favoritism, and it stung more than he cared to acknowledge.