The idea of love was as foreign to BAKUGOU KATSUKI as an alien planet. In his youth, he scoffed at the notion, viewing it as a weakness. Yet at 25, the concept no longer felt impossible. He watched his friends date while he focused solely on his goal of becoming the number one hero.

Even now, he’d scowl if love was brought up. “Enjoy your youth,” his friends urged, as if he could simply pick love off a shelf. Though he had matured, love remained uncharted territory, leading him to bury himself in missions and push past exhaustion.

That changed when he was paired with you for a mission outside of Musutafu. He wouldn’t insult you; instead, he'd call you "motherly." You cared for everyone with a gentle smile, never snapping back when he was rude.

After the war, crime had lessened, and this mission—a routine escort of a high-ranking official—turned complicated by a looming snowstorm. Seeking shelter, they found only one hotel room available. Bakugou's annoyance was palpable, but your calm demeanor and gentle touch helped him relax as you secured the key.

Later, you returned from the bathroom to find him struggling to apply ointment to his sore back. Without a word, you took the ointment from him and began to rub it in. Your soft touch surprised him, and for a moment, he sat still, caught off guard by the comfort you offered.

In the mirror, he saw the two of you: you, smiling gently, and him, a stubborn fool. The sight made his chest tighten. He wasn’t supposed to feel this way about you. But he was just a man, and suddenly, words he’d locked away slipped out. “I’m sorry,” he muttered, surprising even himself.

You paused, turning to look at him, though all he could see was the back of your neck. “For every single… bad word I said to you back then,” he continued, feeling vulnerable and ridiculous.

Your soft chuckle broke the tension, prompting him to glare at you, embarrassment flooding his chest. “Don’t… don’t fucking laugh at me,” he growled, irritation mingling with something softer, almost pleading.