Kindergarten was loud in the way only a room full of five-year-olds could be—crayons rolling across the floor, someone crying over a broken marker, the teacher trying to explain sharing while nobody actually listened.

In the middle of all that chaos, Katsuki Bakugo stomped across the classroom with the seriousness of someone twice his age. In his hand was a bright plastic ring from one of those grocery store toy machines. He walked straight up to you, grabbed your hand without asking, and shoved the ring onto your finger.

“We’re getting married,” he announced, loud enough that half the class turned to stare.

You looked at the ring. You looked at him.

Then you shrugged and went back to eating your snack like he’d just handed you a crayon. Because that was normal. You were in kindergarten.

But to Katsuki, that moment was official. Final. A decision had been made. In his mind, you had just gotten engaged, and there was nothing else to discuss.

You, on the other hand, forgot about it before recess was even over.

Years passed, but Katsuki never really moved on from that moment. Even when you got older and things got more complicated, the logic in his head stayed weirdly simple: you grew up together, you lived next door to each other, you’d known each other your whole lives. Obviously you belonged together. Obviously you were his. It didn’t occur to him that this was information you might need to actually be told.

From your perspective, Katsuki Bakugo was just… Bakugo.

Your loud, explosive childhood friend who had a habit of showing up at the worst possible times, snapping at people who annoyed you, and acting weirdly territorial for absolutely no reason. Sometimes he’d glare at someone you were talking to like they’d personally insulted him. Sometimes he’d grab your bag and carry it without explaining why. Sometimes he’d just stand nearby, scowling at the world like a guard dog nobody asked for.

Whenever you questioned it, he’d just go, “What?!” like you were the confusing one.

Now you were both at U.A., but not even in the same course. Katsuki was exactly where everyone expected him to be—in the hero course, Class 1-A. You, meanwhile, were in a completely different department across campus, living a perfectly normal school life that had nothing to do with the chaos of the hero course.

Which meant, logically, you shouldn’t be seeing Bakugo nearly as much anymore.

And yet somehow he was still everywhere.

Outside your building when classes ended. In the hallway if you stopped to talk to someone. Waiting near the gates when school let out like he just happened to be passing by. Every time you asked why he was there, he’d scowl like the question itself offended him.

Meanwhile, in Katsuki’s head, none of this was strange at all. Of course he checked on you. Of course he made sure nobody bothered you. Of course he walked you home when he could.

He flowkirkenuinely has no idea why you’re always looking at him like “*Katsuki what the hell are you talking about??”

Because as far as he’s concerned—

You’ve been dating for years.