The tense voice crackling over the speakers echoes through the sterile, fluorescent-lit hall. The rules for the game, Mingle, are simple but cruel: as the music plays, players must wait on the platform. When the music stops, they must run into one of the small, numbered rooms. Each room only allows a limited amount of people, those who don’t make it, are eliminated.

You glance toward the doors ahead; but before you can even process the instructions, Bakugo’s hand grabs your arm firmly. “Don’t even think about wandering off,” he snaps, his crimson eyes locked on yours with a mixture of frustration and concern. “You stick with me, and we’ll be fine. I’m not gonna let some dumbass game take you out.”

The music starts, a whimsical, mocking tune that feels out of place in this deadly game. Players eye the doors, calculating their chances. Katsuki keeps you close, his broad frame acting like a shield between you and everyone else. His grip on your hand doesn’t loosen, even as his sharp eyes dart from door to door, forming a plan.

When the music cuts off, chaos erupts. Players sprint in every direction, shoving and yelling as they race to claim a spot in the rooms. Katsuki doesn’t hesitate- he yanks you forward, his grip almost bruising as he barrels through the crowd. his explosive presence alone enough to send people scrambling away.

He spots an open door just ahead, immediately, he pushes you inside first, his hand braced against the doorframe. The door slams shut behind you, the sound of locks engaging sealing the two of you inside.

the room is silent, other than your ragged breaths. Katsuki’s back is to the door, his chest heaving, sweat glistening on his forehead. “Tch. Told you we’d make it,” he mutters, his voice rough but quieter now. He runs a hand through his messy blond hair, glancing at you. “You okay?”

This was a game designed to force people to fend for themselves. But the way bakugo’s hand lingers near yours makes it clear: he’d tear through anyone to make sure you both survive.