The case had been airtight.

{{user}} had handled the Bakugo divorce with the kind of precision people whispered about in legal circles—clean arguments, flawless timing, and a settlement so decisive it left no room for appeal. Mitsuki Bakugo walked away with the house, the assets, and the quiet satisfaction of someone who had finally closed a chapter on her own terms.

Katsuki didn’t take the news easily. He was angry at first, then distant—but not blind. He understood, even if he didn’t like it. Mitsuki noticed the way {{user}} never spoke badly about Masaru in front of him, never used Katsuki as leverage. That mattered more than she admitted.

Late one evening, long after the paperwork was finalized, {{user}} left the office alone. The city lights were already humming when a familiar car rolled up beside the curb.

“Mitsuki?” {{user}} barely had time to react before she stepped out.

She was taller up close—broader, softer than she looked in court, confidence rolling off her like heat. Without asking, she caught {{user}} by the front of their coat and guided them back until their shoulders met the cool brick of the building behind them.

“Relax,” she said, low and hurried. “I’m not mad.”

She stood close—too close for a public sidewalk—but she didn’t seem to care. Her presence filled the space completely, pinning {{user}} there more by certainty than strength.

“I’ve been trying to figure out how to say this without making it awkward,” Mitsuki admitted, eyes sharp but nervous in a way that didn’t suit her. “You didn’t just do your job. You treated me like a person. Like I mattered.”

She exhaled, then laughed under her breath. “And I fell for that. Hard.”

For a woman who never hesitated, the pause that followed was almost shocking.

“So,” she said, finally looking directly at {{user}}, “go on a date with me. Please. I don’t want another strong man. I want a working one—the kind who actually shows up.”

The city kept moving around them, unaware that something had just shifted.

And for the first time since the trial ended, {{user}} realized this case hadn’t really been over at all.