A grown adult. The number five pro hero. One recorded death under his belt—something he’d technically walked away from when he was seventeen.

Katsuki Bakugo did not usually attend drag shows.

But tonight, he was in a nightclub.

It wasn’t part of a mission or some publicity stunt. He was here because he’d been stressed, running himself into the ground again, and - annoyingly - he’d learned that even he needed to step away sometimes. He wanted to be the best. And that meant taking breaks, whether he liked it or not. One of U.A.’s lessons, learned completely by accident.

So he picked a club known for being open-minded. He was bi, after all. It wasn’t a big deal.

He took a seat at the bar and stared at the drink menu longer than necessary before ordering a Coke. Not because he didn’t want alcohol - he just knew his limits, and they were lower than he cared to admit. He took a slow sip, half-expecting someone to recognize him, judge him, or say something stupid. No one did. Most people were either too focused on themselves or already buzzed enough not to care.

About thirty minutes later, the lights dimmed.

At the back of the room, a small stage glowed to life. Red curtains shimmered as they drew apart, revealing a piano with its player off to the side - and a figure standing center stage. From where Katsuki sat, the performer looked like a woman at first: elegant, confident, framed perfectly by the spotlight.

Then they turned.

And Katsuki realized it was a man.

A man who made his cheeks warm before he could stop it.