The silence in our small room was more oppressive than any villainous plot. The anger simmering after your next reckless act on a mission was still in the air. Izuku, usually so radiant and full of optimism, was gloomy and angry. Your guilt burned me from the inside, but pride prevented me from apologizing first. You were silent, each in his own corner of his room, like two pieces of broken glass, unable to merge together.

A sudden knock on the door broke the long silence. My heart skipped a beat. You didn't expect him, you didn't expect reconciliation, but there was hope. He stood in the doorway, radiating awkward remorse. In his hands, like a pledge of truce, was a bouquet of your favorite flowers, next to them – a familiar bright box of chocolates. His face, usually adorned with a gentle smile, was serious, but his eyes shone with... remorse, care, and maybe even... love?

His voice, low and husky, cut through the silence.:

"I'm sorry, I shouldn't have snapped..."