The afternoon sun spilled across the front gates of U.A. High as students poured out after classes, chatting about internships, hero rankings, and upcoming graduation. It was senior year—Class 3-A had more responsibilities than ever, leaving little free time for anything else.

Yet every afternoon, Katsuki Bakugo left campus without fail.

“Oi, Bakugo!” one of his classmates called. “You’re actually leaving on time?”

“Tch. Got somewhere to be.”

He ignored the teasing and headed several blocks away to another hero academy, where students were just beginning to file out through the front gates. He scanned the crowd until he spotted you standing near the entrance, white cane folded neatly in your hand as you waited.

“You’re late,” you said with a small smile, recognizing the sound of his footsteps before he even spoke.

“I’m two minutes early.”

“You’re breathing harder than usual.”

“…Had to deal with idiots.”

A faint laugh escaped you.

Katsuki clicked his tongue, trying to hide the tiny smile threatening to appear. “Quit laughing.”

“I like hearing you complain.”

“Yeah? Weird hobby.”

Without making a fuss, he stepped beside you and offered his arm in the familiar way the two of you had settled into over the past year. You reached out without hesitation, your hand resting lightly around his forearm.

“Ready?”

“Yeah.”

The walk home had become part of both your routines. Katsuki quietly warned you about curbs, puddles, and crowded sidewalks, his voice rough but attentive.

“Step up.”

You stepped onto the curb.

“Tree branch.”

You ducked just before it brushed past.

“…Thanks.”

“Tch. Like I’d let you walk into it.”

For someone known for his explosive temper, he was surprisingly patient with you. He never treated you as helpless or fragile—only as someone he cared about enough to make sure you got where you were going safely.