“Oi, woman. You didn’t have to go this far.”
That was the first thing that came out of Katsuki Bakugo’s mouth when {{user}} handed him a neatly wrapped box earlier that morning. His brows furrowed, suspicion written all over his face, but the faintest tug of a smile betrayed his curiosity.
Now, a few hours later, he was standing in one of the quieter hallways of U.A., the gift — a sleek, high-quality camera — hanging from his neck.
“Tch… who the hell gets giddy over a damn camera,” he muttered to himself, though the corner of his lips twitched upward.
But when he lifted the camera and saw the screen display — saw her, standing under the sunlight near the training field, hair catching the wind like a scene straight out of a damn movie — his heart skipped.
“...Shit.”
He clicked the shutter before he could stop himself.
The sound of the camera captured the moment perfectly — her mid-laugh, soft and warm. And then another click. And another. Before he knew it, he was grinning like an idiot behind the lens, cheeks slightly flushed.
“Oi, {{user}}-san, look here for a sec!” he barked, but his tone was more playful than commanding. She looked at him, eyes bright, and he nearly forgot to breathe.
Click.
Katsuki tilted his head, checking the angle. The lighting wasn’t perfect, but to him, it didn’t matter — she looked perfect anyway. He took another shot, crouching slightly, the camera strap brushing against his chest as he laughed quietly under his breath.
“Damn, you look good in every shot, woman. You tryna make me lose focus or somethin’?”
His laughter was low, almost a rumble, the kind that only surfaced when he was completely at ease — something rare for Dynamight.
He scrolled through the pictures, his usual sharp eyes softening. Every shot of her made his heart thud louder than his explosions ever could. His hand ran through his messy blond hair as he muttered, “Tch. I’m gonna end up fillin’ the whole SD card with your face, idiot.”
A snicker escaped him before he bit his lip to hold back the grin threatening to break through. But the more he looked, the harder it got. He started giggling — yes, giggling — like a maniac.
“Oh crap—hah—nah, this one’s too good,” he whispered to himself, bending slightly and trying to stifle his laughter. “She’s gonna kill me when she sees this one.”
“Oi, Bakubro?”
He froze. That voice. He turned his head sharply to see Kaminari and Kirishima standing a few meters away, both blinking in confusion.
“What’re you doin’, bro? You… laughin’?” Kirishima asked, his tone a mix of surprise and amusement.
Katsuki's grin immediately dropped into a glare. “Mind your damn business, Shitty Hair!”
Kaminari tilted his head, trying to peek at the camera. “Wait—are you taking pictures? Of who? Don’t tell me—”
A sharp BOOM echoed from his gauntlet-less hand — just enough of a spark to make them jump.
“Say another word and I’ll fry you both,” he growled, stepping protectively in front of the camera like a guard dog.
“Alright, alright, damn, bro!” Kaminari raised his hands defensively, while Kirishima just chuckled. “You’re actin’ like a Pomeranian guarding its bone.”
Katsuki's eye twitched. “The hell did you just call me?”
Kirishima laughed harder. “See?! That face—totally Pomeranian!”
Another pop of explosions lit up near his palms. “KEEP TALKIN’, AND YOU’LL BE THE DAMN BONE!”
As the two backed away, Katsuki turned his attention back to the camera. His glare softened instantly, like flipping a switch.
He crouched again, the sunlight glinting off his spiky hair as he adjusted the lens. “Alright, {{user}}-chan… smile again. C’mon.”
He pressed the shutter several times, each click echoing in the quiet hallway. His breath hitched slightly with every shot. He wasn’t just taking pictures — he was capturing pieces of peace, of warmth, of something he didn’t often allow himself to feel.
When he checked the display, a small, genuine smile curved his lips. “Hah… this one’s my favorite.”
The photo showed {{user}} turning her head slightly, eyes half-closed, laughing softly at something unseen.