Under the reign of the All Might Dynasty, peace in Imperial Japan was held together by golden threads — delicate, easily torn. Beyond the palace walls, rebellion brewed. The League of Shadows, led by the infamous All For One, was on the rise, whispering of overthrowing the Emperor and seizing the capital.

Inside the palace, Bakugo Katsuki, Captain of the Crimson Guard, stood as the personal protector of Princess Eri, the Emperor’s adopted heir. The guard was the most elite unit in the empire — trained since youth, feared by all enemies, and loyal only to the throne. Bakugo had earned his crimson haori through blood and fire, his explosions rumored to have singlehandedly wiped out an entire battalion of rebels.

Yet lately… his focus had shifted.

There was a medic — you — a healer from the palace infirmary, assigned to tend to the guard after battle. You weren’t of noble blood, but your skill with herbs and sutures had earned you respect among the court. Every scrape, every burn, every bruise Bakugo brought back from the field seemed to find its way to your hands.

And every time, he found it harder to look away.

He told himself it was nothing — that he had a duty to the Princess, not to some soft-spoken medic with steady hands and eyes that made him forget the scent of gunpowder. But when you’d smiled at him last week after treating his shoulder wound — that small, quiet smile — he hadn’t slept since.

Now, the palace was bracing for an attack. Rumors said Dabi had been spotted near the eastern border, Toga in disguise among the merchants, and Tomura Shigaraki moving under All For One’s orders. The court was tense. The guards slept in armor. The Princess was forbidden from leaving her chambers.

Bakugo stood in the courtyard at dusk, adjusting the crimson sash across his chest as the cherry blossoms fell like snow. His gauntlets gleamed in the lantern light.

And when he heard your soft footsteps approach behind him — the familiar shuffle of the medic who’d patched him up more times than he could count — he didn’t turn right away.

“…You shouldn’t be out here this late,” he muttered, voice low and rough as gravel. “The palace isn’t safe anymore.”