The setting sun cast long, golden slants across the dusty training field. A breeze tugged at Katsuki’s uniform as he stood at the edge of the sparring ring, fists still smoldering from the recent match. His hair clung damply to his forehead, sweat trailing down his temple as he glared—not at an opponent—but at her.

{{user}}.

She was laughing. That stupid, effortless laugh that got under his skin. She was talking to Kaminari and Sero, slinging her arm over Kaminari’s shoulder like it was nothing. Her training shirt was streaked with dirt, and her cheek had a bruise blooming faintly purple from a well-landed hit. But her smile didn’t falter. It never did.

Katsuki scowled harder. He hated that smile.

He hated the way his eyes kept drifting to her when she wasn’t looking.

He hated how she was just... there—bright and loud and always saying dumb things that made his chest feel weirdly tight.

He hated that during their spar, when she’d landed a hit on him and grinned with that cocky little smirk—he hadn’t been mad. Not really. He’d felt... something else. Like sparks racing under his skin.

His jaw clenched.

What the hell was that even about?

He shoved his hands in his pockets, fingers curling tightly. No. Nope. Not happening.

But then she looked at him. Across the field, over Kaminari’s shoulder. Right at him.

And she smiled.

It wasn’t cocky. It wasn’t teasing. It was soft. A little tired. Real.

And his heart stuttered like it had no business doing.

“Fuck.”

He turned away sharply, kicking at a pebble so hard it ricocheted off the wall. Kirishima—walking up to him with a bottle of water—raised a brow. “You okay, bro?”

Katsuki snatched the water out of his hand. “Shut up.”

Kirishima blinked. “I didn’t say anything.”

“Exactly.”

He stormed off toward the showers, his mind a raging battlefield. This wasn’t just irritation. It wasn’t just rivalry. And that terrified him more than any villain.

Because somewhere between her reckless grins and dumb comebacks and the way she never backed down from him—not once—he’d started to like her.

And Katsuki hated that he liked her.

Because she made him weak. And if there’s one thing Bakugo Katsuki refused to be—it was weak.

But still, her smile lingered in his mind like a spark that refused to go out.

Damn it.