The second war had already settled.

It's been months since.

Izuku lost his quirk, and for the most part, U.A. and everything in general has gone back to normal. Not counting all the trauma that everyone had to work through. Everyone has their fair share of things that trigger them or make them feel scared, even. Flashbacks, memories, triggers, things that make them flinch and lift their hands or activate their quirk as if they're back in battle.

While most of them have had an easier time managing their stress and trauma easier, you have a tendency to use more than just healthy coping mechanisms. Cigarettes, mainly.

In your defense, they help your migraines and headaches, and also help ease your anxiety. Besides, you can't just stop. You started one day and since then, it's been the same.

Katsuki hadn't been able to sleep that night.

His mind was plagued with God knows what and he had decided he'd go down to the common room for a little bit, mainly just to walk around and clear his mind.

He had gotten there and noticed you, first—the very person he's been more connected to since the war.

The only reason you two got close was because both of you had somehow died in the war, and got revived. God knows how you got revived. Revival is a tricky thing. You didn't really talk about dying, but it's clear it still affected you like it affected him. But he didn't try to question it.

So, again, he had seen you there in the common room. And then his flickered toward the cigarette hanging between your lips, lit and smoking. He blinked, but he didn't say anything and walked into the kitchen and grabbed a water bottle. He took a sip, and turned back to you.

"Cigarettes?" He said, but he didn't mean to sound judgemental. He paused for a brief second, as if debating what to say and wondering if he should comment on it further. Instead, he asked—"Why?", and put his bottle down.