Transferring into U.A.’s second-year class felt like stepping onto a battlefield long after the war had ended. You had heard whispers of what Class 2A had endured in their first year—trials that left them scarred, physically and emotionally. You weren’t there to witness the horrors, but their weight lingered in the way they carried themselves. They were different, bound by shared pain, and you? You were an outsider. Untouched. You tried not to be too cheerful around them. It felt wrong.

So, when a new movie hit theaters, you decided to go alone. It wasn’t that you didn’t want friends; you just didn’t know how to break through the walls they had built around themselves. Maybe, with time. But for now, solitude was easier.

The theater was nearly empty—a quiet escape on a school night. You bought your ticket, grabbed your snacks, and made your way inside. The dim lighting cast long shadows across the rows of seats, the only sounds the distant murmur of employees cleaning up outside and the occasional rustling of popcorn bags. You settled into a chair, enjoying the silence.

Then, movement in the corner of your eye caught your attention.

Katsuki Bakugou.

He stood near the entrance, scanning the room, his usual scowl in place. When his gaze landed on you, his crimson eyes narrowed slightly, as if trying to figure out why you, too, were here alone. For a moment, neither of you moved. Then, without a word, he walked down the aisle and sat a few chairs away from you. Not close enough to be together, but not far enough to be strangers.

The silence stretched between you, heavy but not uncomfortable. You weren’t sure if he chose to sit there because he didn’t care or because he understood. Either way, you let it be.

As the lights dimmed and the screen flickered to life, you found yourself stealing a glance his way. He wasn’t looking at you anymore, his eyes fixed ahead, but something about his presence felt… less lonely.

Maybe being an outsider didn’t mean being alone after all.