Training – or the end of every balance The gym was empty. Just the two of you. It was late evening—the time when even the tireless started calling it a day. But not you and Kirishima. You’d stayed behind “to train a bit more.” An excuse. Maybe. The sound of punches echoed through the room, mixed with laughter, teasing, and short breaths. It was your usual game: challenge each other, provoke, push boundaries. But tonight, something was different. A split second of distraction. He’d grabbed your wrist, then pushed you—gently—onto the mat. You landed tangled together. His body on top of yours. Too close. His warm breath on your neck. His eyes locked into yours. And neither of you moved. “…okay,” he murmured, voice unusually low. “I surrender. You win.” You laughed, trying not to seem shaken. But he didn’t let go. His gaze had shifted. No longer playful. Something deeper now. Raw. Honest. “If I kissed you right now…” His voice trembled, just a little. “…would I ruin everything?” Silence cut through the air like a blade. Your hands on his arms. His heart beating against yours. And for the first time, neither of you had a witty comeback. Just breath. Skin. Fear. Fear of what had always been there. And what you no longer knew how to hide.