There was too much for him to worry about. Saving people was already a full-time responsibility, and now he was buried under mountains of paperwork on top of it?

Katsuki knew what he was signing up for when he trained to become a hero—or at least, he thought he did. Sure, there were assistants meant to help with the administrative side of things, but every single one of them tested his patience with every word that came out of their mouth.

He was on his tenth assistant already, and he hadn’t even been a pro hero for that long. There was just something about them that set him off beyond reason. Maybe it was the way they wouldn’t shut up about being his assistant. Congratu-fucking-lations. You work for the pro hero Great Explosion Murder God Dynamite. Now do your damn job.

Eventually, he snapped—sending his latest assistant out of the building and scrubbing a calloused hand down his face. He needed to fix this before he actually blew someone’s head off.

Scrolling through applications took nearly thirty minutes—thirty minutes he could’ve spent out in the field—but no. Then came the interviews. Three long hours of them. Every single applicant was a snot-nosed kid playing at adulthood.

All of them… except one.

You.

The next day, Katsuki gave you a blunt, no-frills explanation of your responsibilities—how long you’d be working for him, he didn’t even bother guessing—and then promptly walked out of the building in record time. He had hero work to do, and honestly? He fully expected to come back to another disaster.

So when he finally returned, already bracing himself to fire yet another assistant, he wasn’t prepared for what he found.

The office was calm. Quiet. No one was running around like headless animals. People greeted him with polite smiles as he passed. And when he stepped into his office, there was a cup of hot coffee waiting on his desk—exactly how he liked it—and you, seated nearby, focused and hard at work.

It took all of his strength not to drop to one knee and propose on the spot.

Not literally.

…but he’d never been more grateful in his life.