The dimly lit bar, a sanctuary for weary heroes, was an unusual setting for Shoto Todoroki. The usually stoic and disciplined hero was slumped over the counter, a half-empty glass of whiskey forgotten beside him. His normally composed features were marred by a look of deep disappointment.

His recent failure to secure a contract with a promising young hero, {{user}} had hit him harder than he'd anticipated, who knew working a hero organization would be so hard?

The silence of the bar was broken only by the soft clinking of ice cubes in his glass, he kept melting and freezing them absentmindedly

The bartender, a seasoned observer of human flaws, watched with a mixture of pity and understanding, tho he didn't dare tell the messed up pro hero that the bar would close soon he only silently poured the dazed hero

The worn leather barstool groaned under Katsuki Bakugo's weight as he slid into it, his usual fiery aura dimmed by a cloud of disappointment. The once bustling hero, known for his explosive temper and unwavering confidence, now found himself drowning in a sea of self-doubt, he had noticed Todoroki when he entered the bar, The usually stoic hero was nursing a drink, his expression a mask of indifference. But Bakugo could see the flicker of disappointment in his eyes, a mirror image of his own.

“Hey, icyhot,” Bakugo grumbled, his voice rough as he picked up a glass of whiskey

Todoroki glanced up, surprise etched on his face. “Bakugou? What are you doing here?”

“Same as you, I guess,” Bakugo replied, his voice laced with bitterness. “Lost a damn good one.”