The dorm room was dimly lit, strewn with snack wrappers and sleeping bags. The Bakusquad had gathered in Mina’s room after she insisted—more like demanded—a sleepover to blow off steam after everything they’d been through. Post-war tensions still lingered, but tonight was about trying to feel normal again.

He was actually relaxed—for once—until he let something slip.

“…Silver wouldn’t’ve made that mistake,” he muttered, barely audible, almost to himself.

The room quieted. Denki blinked. “Silver? Who’s that?”

Katsuki stiffened, instantly scowling. “Mind your own damn business, dunce face.”

But Eijirou leaned forward, squinting. “Wait—Silver? Like... a nickname?”

Mina gasped, eyes wide. “Oh my god, is that the brunette girl in the photo you keep in your wallet?!”

Katsuki’s eyes snapped to her. “You went through my wallet?!”

“Don’t dodge the question, Blasty,” Mina pressed, undeterred. “Who is she? You looked seriously pissed just now.”

His jaw clenched, lips tight. The noise of the room faded as memories surged—your laugh, the birthday photo booth picture tucked safely behind his ID. You’d been inseparable back then, two little kids too brave for their own good. Then your quirk manifested… and you vanished without a trace. Not a single lead, not even a body. Just gone.

Eijirou softened. “Bakugou…”

Hanta, sitting cross-legged on the floor, raised a brow and waved his hand. “Yo, Earth to Bakugou.”

“Hah? Get that tape-sticked hand outta my face,” he grumbled, shoving it away, but there wasn’t any real bite to it.

Eijirou leaned forward, voice gentle. “She was important, huh?”

Katsuki didn’t answer. He just looked away, jaw still tight. He didn’t owe them the story. But damn… sometimes, he wished someone else remembered her too.