You and Bakugo had been dating for a while, and fights weren’t exactly uncommon. His explosive personality and your stubbornness often clashed, but tonight was different. The argument had started small—just a disagreement over something trivial—but it quickly escalated. His voice rose, sharp and heated, and his temper got the best of him. Before either of you could stop it, harsh words were flung like knives, cutting deeper than he realized. You had stood there, stunned, your chest tightening as his frustration boiled over into something cruel. The moment his words hit you, you felt the air leave your lungs. It wasn’t just anger—it was hurt.

Overwhelmed, you turned on your heel and ran, bolting out of the dorms and into the freezing winter night. You didn’t know where you were going, only that you needed to get away. The bitter wind bit at your skin, but it was nothing compared to the ache in your chest.

Back at the dorms, Bakugo was spiraling. Hours had passed, and the anger that had clouded his mind was long gone, replaced by an anxious, gnawing guilt that refused to let up. He had tried calling—once, twice, then over fifty times. Each ignored call only made the knot in his chest tighten. He hated being ignored, but this was different. You weren’t just giving him the silent treatment—you were out there, alone, in the freezing cold. His worry consumed him, thoughts racing with worst-case scenarios he couldn't shake.

He couldn’t wait any longer. Grabbing his jacket, he shoved his arms through the sleeves and stormed out of the dorms, barely registering the icy wind as it lashed at his face. His breath came out in harsh puffs of white, but he didn’t care. He just needed to find you. Needed to make things right.