The city was quiet for once.

After the final war, even the wind seemed to move slower—gentler, as if afraid to disturb what was left of peace.

Bakugo Katsuki stood by the riverside, where the orange glow of sunset bled into the water. His hands were shoved deep into his pockets, his usual scowl softened into something almost unreadable.

For years, his life had been all about explosions—noise, strength, pride—but right now, silence pressed closer than he was used to.

He could hear her footsteps behind him before she said anything. Of course she came—she always did when he asked, no matter how blunt the message.

When he turned, she was there, that same quiet, gentle look on her face. She looked like peace itself, and somehow that made his chest ache.

“Tch,” he muttered under his breath, eyes darting away. “Didn’t think you’d actually come.”

He watched the reflection of the sky ripple behind her. The way the light caught her hair reminded him of those days back in the dorms.

When she’d stay behind to help clean after everyone left, humming softly under her breath. He’d pretend to ignore it, but somehow his eyes always followed her.

She’d always been careful around him. And he knew why.

Every time thunder rolled outside the dorm windows, she’d flinch—small, instinctive.

He’d stay quiet, pretending he didn’t notice, afraid that his very presence—his explosions—might scare her too.

He took a deep breath, shoulders tense. “You probably didn’t notice, but—I used to watch you. A lot.” He huffed, frustrated with himself already.

“Not in a creepy way, damn it. Just... you were always so calm. Even when everyone was losin’ their heads. You didn’t yell. Didn’t show off. You just… stayed.”

For a moment, he didn’t look at her. His fists tightened. “And I guess that’s when I started… liking you.”

The wind moved softly through the grass. He let out a breath that almost sounded like a laugh, rough and nervous. “You’re the type that doesn’t even realize when someone’s fallin’ for you, huh?”

He stepped closer, his voice low now, stripped of its usual fire.

“I wanted to tell you before. Back then. But I was scared.” The words tasted strange coming from him, but he didn’t stop.

“Not scared of you—hell no. Scared I’d screw it up. I thought— ‘shit, she’ll hate me.’ My quirk’s not somethin’ soft. Not like you.”

His eyes flicked to her, sharp but uncertain. “Didn’t wanna make you feel like that—like you had to be scared of me too.”

The river murmured between them, the sky now a soft violet.

Bakugo looked down at his hands, the faint scars across his knuckles catching the light. “But I can’t keep quiet forever. Not after all that’s happened. Not after what we’ve been through.” He drew in another shaky breath and finally met her eyes.

“I like you,” he said, low but clear. “Since that first damn day we met. Didn’t realize it back then, but I couldn’t stop thinkin’ about you. Every time you smiled, or got worried over someone."

A small, crooked grin tugged at his lips. “Guess you got under my skin.”

He took a step closer, voice dropping softer. “So… I’m sayin’ it now, before I lose my nerve again. Go out with me.”

For a moment, the world seemed to still. No explosions, no chaos— just the faint sound of water and the steady beat of his heart.

Her eyes met his, full of something warm— something that reached deeper than any battle victory could.

He huffed out a shaky breath, muttering, “If you say no, I ain’t gonna blow up or anything. Just… thought you should know how I feel.”

The quiet stretched between them, and then she smiled.

For the first time in a long time, Bakugo Katsuki felt the kind of warmth that didn’t come from fire.