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Chapter Text

CHAPTER 1 -
"When The Past Knocks Early"

- IZUKUS POV –

The morning news are too bright for this early.

The huge holo-screen in the staff lounge throws harsh light across the tables, turning the steam from my coffee into pale green mist. I should be grading yesterday’s quizzes. Or reviewing the curriculum All Might asked me to adjust. Or litteraly anything other than what I’m doing.

Which is starting at Dynamight. Katsuki.

Smoke still curls in the aftermath of the broadcasted fight. A collapsed warehouse district, heroes‘ silhouettes moving through dust.
The camera zooms in on a familiar figure as he straightens, explosions still cracking faintly around his gauntlets. His new costume is more streamlined now, but the same wild, spiky ash-blond hair is unmistakable. So is the annoyed set of his mouth as he barks at the reporters to get back.

Kacchan.

My fingers tighten around the mug. The coffee is already lukewarm, but I take a sip anyway, because doing something feels better than just sitting here and letting my chest hurt.

He’s breathing hard. That subtle, barely-there hitch in his shoulders that most people wouldn’t notice. The crowd only sees Dynamight: Japan’s Top offensive hero, Number Five in the rankings but arguably Number One in destructive output.
The guy whose merch sells out in minutes, whose fans chant his name like he’s a rockstar.

I see the cracks underneath.
The exhaustion, the tension in his right arm that means he overextended an explosion and will pretens he didn’t.

„Midoriya?“

I flinch.
The coffee sloshes dangerously.
„Ah- yes! I-sorry, I was just –“

„Mh-hm.“, Ochako drops into the seat across from me, her hair tied up in a messy bun, teacher ID hanging crooked from her neck. Her eyes flick to the holo-screen, then back to me, and her mouth curves in that way that means I’m in trouble.

„They’re re-running yesterday’s broadcast“, she says, like I don’t already know. „Again.“

„Are they?“ I ask, way too quickly. „That’s… that’s good. Visibility for the hero industry is-“

„Deku.“

The gentle warning in her voice cuts off my ramble. I shring a little into my cardigan.

On the screen, Dynamight turns away from the reporters, barking orders at the sidekicks still dealing with stray fires. The camera sticks to him like it’s magnetized.

I should stop watching. I know I should. It never helps. It never makes anything better. It just makes the space in my chest ache wider, like someone’s scooped out a piece and left it empty.

But I can’t make myself look away.

„You know“, Ochako continues, propping her chin in her hand, „most people watch the news, and when their ex-classmate shows up on screen, they’re like ‚oh hey, haven’t seen them in a while, neat.‘“

„We’re not ‚most people‘“, I mumble, then immediately want to smack myself. Great. Very smooth, Izuku.

She grins. „And you’re not ‚most people‘. You’re the tiny, pining gremlin who stares at the same replay three mornings in a row.“

„I’m not a gremlin“, I protest, weakly.

„Mm, you are when you go off on your muttering tangents.“ She straightens, pitching her voice to imitate me:
„Dynamight’s blast radius seems reduced by precisely 4,7 % compared to last week’s footage, this might suggest a new stamina training routine or a minor strain in the
deltoid-“

„I do not sound like that“, I groan, dropping my face into my hands.

„Well, you used to sound like that“, she amends, voice softening, „back when you actually talked to him instead of …this.‘‘

„This is fine“, I lie into my palms.

„You’ve been ‚fine‘ for a year now“, she counters. „A whole year, Deku. Do you realize today officially marks it?“

My heart stutters. I do realize. Of course I realize.
Every time I pass the training grounds where we used to spar, every time I see the spot on the dorm rooftop where we once sat side by side, battered and breathing and –

I push the memory away before it can fully form.

„Hey“, Ochako says, gentler now. „You okay?“

I drop my hands and force a smile. I’ve gotten better at that, at least. At making it look convincing enough that people don’t push.

Mostly.

„Really, I am“, I say. „I have my work. The students are… amazing. Seeing them grow every day, understanding herpics and ethics and quirk application – well, not quirk application in my class anymore but, um –“

She raises an eyebrow. „Don’t change the subject.“

I look down at my mug. Tiny brown swirls spin across the surface. „It’s better this way“, I say quietly.

„Better for who?“, she asks.

„For him“, I say, before I can stop myself.
The words land between us, heavy and sad.

Ochako sighs, rubbing her temples. „Deku…“

„He has enough to deal with“, I insist. „The rankings, patrols, public expectations. After everything he did for me – after everything I put him through – he doesn’t need me hovering around, making things complicated.“

„You didn’t ‚put him through‘ – “

„I did“, I say, sharper than I meant to. I swallow, forcing my voice down. „I… I dragged everyone into my mess. I took One For All, I ran away, I thought I could fix things on my own. I almost… broke. And he had to pick up the pieces. Again.“

The holo-screen shows Dynamight launching himself into the air, an explosion flaring beneath his palms. For a heartbeat, he’s suspended against the sky, brilliant and furious and beautiful.

My chest hurts.

„He nearly died for me, Ochako“, I whisper. „More than once. I can’t – I can’t keep asking him to be near that. To be near me. Not when I’m just… me again.“

Quirkless.
The word hangs in my mind, heavy and familiar.

I flex my fingers around the mug, feeling the faint tremor that never quite went away after all those battles. No crackle of power, no surge of energy humming under my skin. Just bones and scars.

„I’m a teacher now“, I say. „He’s… Dynamight. Our lives are different. That’s okay.“

Ochako watches me for a long, careful moment. „You still love him.“

It’s not really a question.

I exhale. „Since our first year at U.A.“, I admit. The confession is old, familiar, worn smooth by all the times I’ve turned it over in my mind.
„Since before he ever looked at me like I was anything but… less.“

„And now?“, she asks.

„Now he’s a hero who deserves better than someone who still flinches when he raises his voice,“ I answer honestly. „Someone who remembers every time he told me I should give up. Even if I know he’s changed. Even if I know he regrets it. My heart doesn’t –“ I press a hand to my sternum. „It doesn’t always remember that as fast.“

Ochako’s expression softens in that way that makes my eyes sting.

„You know he’d probably punch you for talking about yourself like that“, she mutters.

A tiny, helpless laugh escapes me. „Yeah. He’d call me a ‚damn nerd‘ and tell me to stop moping.“

„There it is“, she says, smiling. „That’s the face you make when you think about him. You miss him, Deku.“

„Of course I miss him“, I say, a little too loudly. I lower my voice. „But missing someone doesn’t mean you’re good for them.“

She leans back in her chair, crossing her arms. „You know what I think?“

„I have a feeling you’re going to tell me either way.“

„I think you’re using ‚I’m bad for him‘ as a shield“, she says. „So you don’t have to risk finding out wheter he actually wants you around.“

„Ochako –“

„Because if he doesn’t… that would hurt more than watching him on TV.“

Silence stretches between us, filled only by the muted murmur of the newscaster and distant footsteps in the hall.

She’s not wrong. That makes it worse.

„Anyway“, she says, after a moment, pushing to her feet, „you don’t have to decide anything today.“

Relief flickers, brief and fragile.

„Except“, she adds, digging her phone out of her pocket, „wheter you’re going to panic or not.“

My stomach dips. „That’s… not a good lead in.“

She winces. „I was going to easy you into it, but I know you prefer directness now.“

„Ease me into what?“

She hands me her phone. A new email is open, U.A.‘s staff header clear at the top. I skim past the polite greeting, the explanation text, the bullet points.

My eyes snag on one line.

Pro Hero Guest Week – Confirmed

Participants: - Shoto Todoroki (Shoto) – Tenya Iida (Ingenium) – Ochako Uraraka (Uravity) – Eijiro Kirishima (Red Riot) – Denki Kaminari (Chargebolt) – Mina Ashido (Pinky) – Katsuki Bakugou (Great Explosion Murder God Dynamight)

My breath stutters.

„He – He accepted?!“ I choke out. „He’s actually - ?“

„His agency confirmed yesterday,“ Ochako says quietly. „Iida and Shoto already replied in the group chat where you never comment, by the way.“

My vision tunnels a little. The letters on the screen blur and refocus. My fingers shake around the device.

Dynamight is coming to U.A.

Katsuki is coming here.

Here. Where I work. Where I teach. Where I’ve spent an entire year carefully avoiding any space he might be in, by the very simple method of… never being in any space he’s in.

My heart thumps painfully against my ribs.

„I thought he’d say no,“ I whisper. „He doesn’t… he hates timt-wasting PR events and… and kids and…“

„And yet,“ Ochako says, „he said yes.“

She reaches out, steadying my hand around the phone.

„You have a month,“ she reminds me softly.
„Guest Week isn’t until after midterms. You can… think about what you want to do until then. Talk to Shoto, or Iida. Or keep staring at his face on the news. Your call.“

I nod, but the motion feels distant, disconnected.

A month.

After a year of silence, I have one month until Katsuki Bakugo walks back into my life.

And I have absolutely no idea what I’m supposed to do when he does.

- KATSUKIS POV –

„Oi, turn that crap off.“

The news feed snaps off mid-sentence as I slam my locker door shut. The agency’s changing room drops into blessed silence, broken only by the clank of metal and Eijiro’s soft chuckle.

„Come on, man,“ Denki whines from the bench, towel draped over his head. „They were talking about how sick that last blast was. ‚A spectacular display of Dynamight’s unwavering resolve – ‘“

I grab his towel and smack him in the face with it. „You were there, dunce-face. Don’t need a bunch of talking heads telling you what you already saw.“

„Yeah, but it sounds cooler when they say it,“ Denki protests, peeling the towel off and messing up his own hair more. „Plus, free PR, bro.“

„You get enough PR piggybacking off my name as it is,“ I grumble, jerking my hero top over my head and tossing it in the laundry bin. The fabric sticks slightly to my skin, still damp from the fight. My muscles ache in that good, used way.

Better than the ache under my ribs. That one’s not from the fight.

„Dude, your name on our agency alone could fund my entire snack budget,“ Mina says, leaning around the corner of the lockers with an easy grin. She’s already changed, pink hair pulled back into a high ponytail, phone in hand. „Speaking of – guess what just dropped?“

„Another endorsement deal you’re gonna make me do while promising there’ll be explosions?“ I snort. „Last time it was just flavored water, Ashido.“

„Hey, hydration is important! But no. This is way better.“ She wiggles her phone. „U.A.‘s Guest Hero Week lineup just went public.“

My hands still on the strap of my tank top. I focus on the fabric, on the motion of adjusting it, like that’ll help.

„We already confirmed,“ I say flatly. „You, my, Sparky and Shitty Hair. What’s the big deal?“

„The big deal,“ she sing-songs, tapping the screen, „is the full list.“

Eijiro rounds the corner, hair damp from a quick shower. „Oh yeah, that thing. Iida and Todoroki are gonna be there, right?“

„And Uraraka,“ Denki adds. „Man, it’s going to be like a mini reunion. Feels like forever since we all hung out.“

„Eight years since graduation,“ Eijiro says, whistling. „We’re old.“

„You’re old,“ I shoot back on reflex. „I’m in my prime.“

„Sure,“ Mina says. „Your prime, which will be on display at U.A. alongside…“

She pauses dramatically. Too dramatically.

I know that look. That’s her ‚I’m about to poke the bear and I’m doing it out of love but also for fun‘ look.

„Spit it out,“ I growl.

„Midoriya Izuku,“ she announces with a teasing little flourish. „Current U.A. teacher, former Symbol of Hope trainee, two-time World Conference lecturer on heroics and ethics, certified adorable mess. Ring any bells?“

My pulse stutters.

I glare at her. „Don’t say his full name like it’s some kind of damn title.“

„Because it kind of is,“ Denki says. „Guy’s a legend, even without a quirk now. The kids worship him. The way he broke down battlefield strategy in that last conference was – “

„Yeah, yeah, Izuku’s brilliant, we know,“ I snap, more sharply than I mean to. Their expressions shift, something wary and knowing passing between them.

Eijiro leans against the lockers, crossing his arms. „You okay, bro?“

„I’m always okay.“

„Bakubro – “

„I said I’m fine,“ I bite out.

Silence hums for a second too long. I run a hand through my hair, pushing the damp spikes back. The metal of my gauntlet rack gleams in the corner of my vision. The smell of smoke and detergent fills the air.

They think they’re subtle. They’re not.

Mina is the first to break the quiet, as usual. „So,“ she says casually, „you’re gonna have to talk to him.“

I grunt. „No, I don’t.“

„You’re literally going to be in the same building,“ Denki points out. „Same event. There’ll be panels. Q&A. Group photos. Aaaaand probably a sentimental speech by Aizawa about ‚the legend of Class 1-A‘ where he stares meaningfully at us until someone cries.“

„Not it,“ Mina says immediately.

„Same,“ Denki adds.

Eijiro rubs the back of his neck.
„Look, man, we’re not trying to… I dunno, pry?“ He says. „But it’s been a year.“

My jaw tightens. „Yeah. That’s the point.“

He winces. „Is it?“

I slam the locker a little harder than necessary. „What do you want me to do? Huh? Show up, clap him on the back like nothings happened, like I didn’t spend our entire childhood telling him he was worthless?“, I bark. Then adding quieter. „That I didn’t waited a whole fucking year waiting for him to text me?“

Mina’s smile fades. Denki looks down at his hands. Eijiro meets my eyes, steady.

„That’s not how you treated him at the end,“ he says quietly. „But yeah, man. Thing with not reaching out to you is… bad.“

„At the end,“ I echo, bitter. „You mean right before he almost got himself killed saving everyone? Again? And the nine years after? – Well, fuck sucks.“

The image is burned into my memory. Deku, limp and bloody and still trying to get up. My own voice screaming his name until my throat tore. The decision that followed, like a fist closing around my heart.

I told him I’d catch him. That I’d never let go.

And then I let him break our contact, walking away from me. Not reaching out to him myself.

I sit heavily on the wooden bench, elbows on my knees, hands dangling between them. The floor tiles blur for a second.

„I finally got him to look at me like a damn friend,“ I say, the words rough. „You know how long that took? How many times I had to bite my tongue and swallow every instinct to yell at him until he listened? Every time I wanted to… say something else?“ My throat closes around the last part.

Mina crouches in front of me, resting her arms on her knees. „Katsuki –“

„Don’t,“ I snap automatically.

She softens. „You can’t protect him from you feelings by disappearing from his life, you know.“

„I’m not protecting him from my feelings,“ I mutter. „I’m protecting what’s left of his. For me.“

Because I know how I treated him. Because I know that, even if he forgave me, there are scars there. The ones you can’t see. The ones I put there with my words and my explosions and my cowardice.

He called me Kacchan again, at the end.
Said he wanted to understand me, stand next to me. That I was his… friend.

I had no right to ask for anything more. Still don’t.

„He’s better off,“ I say, low. „He’s got his job, his students, his friends. He doesn’t need his old bully hovering around, confusing things he shouldn’t.“

„‘Shouldn’t‘, huh?“ Denki says softly.

I scrowl. „You know what I mean.“

„Do we?“ Mina asks. „Because it kinda sounds like you’re punishing yourself.“

„Good,“ I snap. „I deserve it.“

Eijiro exhales slowly, then pushes off the lockers and steps closer. „Bakugo.“

He only uses my family name like that when he’s serious.

„You do know he –,“ Eijiro hesitates, choosing his words. „He never blamed you the way you blame yourself. Right?“

Something in my chest flares – hope or pain or a mix of both, I can’t tell. I smother it anyway.

„Doesn’t matter,“ I say. „Fact is, I did the shit I did. I told him to quit, I hit him when he was already down, I made him think he was less. Those memories don’t go away just because I got my head out of my ass in second year.“

Eijiro’s gaze is steady, unflinching. „People grow.“

„Yeah, well, some of us grew too late.“

Silence falls again. This one isn’t awkward.
Just… heavy.

Mina straightens, her expression shifting from soft to determined. „Well, too bad,“ she says, startling me. „Because late or not, your’re going to U.A.. You already said yes. And we’re going to support the hell out of those kids and show them what real heroes look like.“

She plants her hand on her hips. „And if, in the process, you accidentally run into a certain green-haired teacher in the hallway… that’s life.“

Denki perks up. „Yeah! We’ll be your emotional support squad!“

„Do not ever say that again,“ I grumble, but the corner of my mouth twitches anyway.

Eijiro claps a big, warm hand on my shoulder. „We’ve got your back, bro,“ he says, voice firm. „Whatever you decide to do when you see him. Talk, don’t talk, yell, run away – “

„I’m not gonna run away.“

„I know,“ he says simply. „You never do. That’s kinda the problem. You face everything head-on. Except this.“

I grit my teeth.

A year.

A year of ignoring the urge to check the U.A. faculty page. A year of flipping past channels when his face showed up, only to change back two seconds later. A year of pretending every explosion in my chest was just from training, not from the memory of his stupid freckled smile.

I thought I could keep the distance forever.
Thought I was doing him a favor.
Thought that’s what he wants, since he never texted me.

Now U.A. dragged us into the same orbit again, wheter I like it or not.

I blow a breath, standing abruptly. My reflection stares back at me from the small mirror screwed to the locker door. Red eyes, tired but sharp. Hair a spiky mess. Jaw set.

Dynamight doesn’t flinch. Katsuki Bakugo doesn’t either.

„I’ll go,“ I say. „I’ll do the panels, the demos, the whole damn dog and pony show. It’s for the kids.“

„And if you see Izuku?“ Mina asks quietly.

My chest tightens around the name. He’s still ‚Izuku‘ in my head. Always will be, since the day I apologiezed. He’ll only ever be Deku again, when the thing arrives…

But he’s also still the nerd who never knew when to quit. The guy who ran toward danger with shaking knees and bright eyes.

The idiot I fell in love with somewhere between ‚I hate you‘ and ‚I’m sorry‘.

„If I see him,“ I say slowly, „I’ll… figure it out then.“

Not much of a plan. But it’s more than I’ve allowed myself in a year.

Eijiro smiles, sharp and proud. „That’s all anyone can ask.“

„Don’t go getting sappy on me,“ I warn, grabbing my jacket. „We’ve got patrol in thirty. Move your asses.“

Mina salutes. „Yes, Captain Emotional Repression.“

„I’ll fry your phone,“ I threaten as we head out.

„Joke’s on you, it’s insured!“

Their bickering washes over me, familiar and grounding. I let it pull me forward, step by step.

U.A.
Izuku.
One month.

My hands curl into fists at my sides. The old instincts whisper in the back of my mind – push him away, protect him by staying back, don’t risk breaking what little you have. Had?

But for the first time in a long time, another voice is there too. Quieter, rougher. Tired of running in place.

Cowards keep their distance.
Heroes move forward.

I don’t know which one I’m going to be when I see him again.

But I guess I’m about to find out.

Chapter Text

- IZUKUS POV –

The walk back to my classroom feels longer than usual.

The hallway curves gently toward the main training wing, sunlight pouring through the tall windows and painting the floor in warm golden stripes. Outside, cherry blossoms shake in breeze, petals drifting down like pink snow. Normally I’d stop to watch them, maybe take a picture to show my students later – something to remind them that beauty still thrives even in a world that asks so much from heroes.

Today, I barely notice the blossoms.

My mind keeps looping one sentence over and over, like a stuck audio file:

Katsuki is coming back to U.A.

My breath catches every time I think it, a weird stutter in my chest that feels too tight and too warm and too painful all at once. The kind of feeling that comes right before a bruise fully forms.

A year. An entire year of silence. Of deliberately staying out of each other’s orbit. A year of learning to breathe without waiting for a message that was never to come.

And now…

Just like that, he’s going to walk through these halls again.

My hand trembles as I slide open my classroom door. Desks arranged in tidy rows, lesson plans on the front whiteboard, stacks of graded papers on my desk.
Normal. Familiar. Safe.

But I feel like a stranger.

The air smells faintly of chalk dust and disinfectant. The morning sun warms the wooden floorboards. Everything is exactly how I left it.

So why does it feel like the ground is shifting under my feet?

I close the door behind me and sink into my chair, exhaling slowly. My pulse hasn’t settled since Ochako handed me that email.
My heart keeps jumping like it expects him to burst into the room at any moment, explosions crackling behind him, shouting „MOVE, NERD!“ like we’re still teenagers in the dorms.

But we’re not kids anymore.

He’s Dynamight – an elite hero with international recognition and the power to level city blocks.

And I’m… a teacher. A quirkless one at that.

I rub my palms against my tights, grounding myself, reminding my body that I’m here, not in some imagined memory.

I should be preparing lesson notes. The students will be here in twenty minutes. But my mind refuses to latch onto the curriculum.

Instead it drifts, uninvited, to him.

How does he look up close now?
Sharper? Taller? Still wearing that stubborn scowl like it’s sewn to his face?

Does he still bite the insides of his cheeks when he’s thinking?
Does his right palm still twitch before he uses his quirk?

Does he… does he even think about me anymore?

I swallow hard.

He wasn‘t the one who walked away first.
After the war. After that time where I thought I had to handle everything myself. After everything.

But I walked away for good reasons, I remind myself.

We were both breaking back then, in different ways. He was learning how to be soft without thinking it made him weak. I was learning how to stay alive without destroying myself in the process.

Distance was necessary.

Maybe it still is.

I press my fingers to my temples.
Keep it together, Izuku. Just teach your class. Just breathe.

The door slides open without warning.

„Midoriya-sensei!“

I startle, nearly knocking over my mug of tea.

Hana and Koji – two of my first-year students – peek inside holding folders stuffed with hero analysis worksheets.

„Oh! Sorry, sensei,“ Hana giggles. „We didn’t mean to scare you.“

„It’s okay, I was just…“ I force a smile. „Thinking.“

Koji tilts his head. „You look pale.“

„Did you not sleep?“ Hana adds, frowning with concern.

Kids. Somehow they always see right through people.

„I slept,“ I lie gently. „Just a busy morning.“

Hana brightens. „Is it because of the Guest Hero Week announcement? Everyone’s talking about it already!“

My stomach flips.

„Oh? Really?“ I say, voice light, but painfully strained.

„Yeah! My brother freaked out because Dynamight is coming,“ she grins. „He watches all his livestreams!“

Of course he does. Dynamight is a star.

„That’s great,“ I manage. „He’s… very skilled.“

She laughs. „Skilled‘ is an understatement, sensei! I’ve seen the compilation videos! BOOM! CRAAACK! He’s like a living fireworks show!“

Koji nods. „My parents say he’s the strongest explosive-type hero in the world.“

I look at the chalkboard, anywhere but at their eager faces. „He works hard,“ I say softly.

One of the hardest workers I’ve ever known.

Too hard. He pushes himself until he’s frayed at the edges. Until his hands shake from recoil and pride keeps him from admitting it.

The kids chatter enthusiastically for a few more minutes before leaving for the cafeteria, and when the door closes again, the silence hit me like a wave.

Dynamight.

Katsuki.

Just hearing students talk about him makes warmth bloom low in my chest. It’s embarrassing. And worse – it’s dangerous. I can’t cling to feelings that were never mine to begin with.

I pull out my lesson plan, stare at the words until they stop blurring.

You’re a teacher, I remind myself. A stable adult. Someone kids rely on.

You can’t fall apart just because someone from your past is coming back.

Even if that someone is the person you’ve loved since first year.

A soft beep alerts me to a new message on my phone. I unlock it, expecting a reminder from Aizawa or an update on schedules.

Instead I find a message from Shoto.

Todoroki Shoto: Are you free this evening? We need to talk about the guest schedule. Also Uraraka said you were ‘making the face’.

My cheeks heat.

I text back.

Midoriya Izuku: What face??

Three seconds later, he responds.

Todoroki Shoto: The sad broccoli face. The one that means your emotions are unorganized.

I groan softly and drop my forehead onto the desk.

Great. Fantastic. Amazing,
They’re all conspiring.

The staff lounge is warm and softly lit, most of the teachers gone for the night. Iida stands with perfect posture beside the tea station, Shoto sits elegantly on the couch with a book, and Ochako is rummaging in the snack cabinet.

And then there’s me. Hovering by the doorway like a nervous cat.

“Deku!” Ochako beams. “Come, sit!”

Iida adjusts his glasses. “We have much to discuss regarding the logistics of Guest Hero Week.”

I sit, resisting the urge to sink into the cushions and disappear forever.

Shoto closes his book. “You look worse than you did this morning.”

“I’m fine,” I insist.

“No, you’re not,” Ochako says. “You’re vibrating.”

“I am not vibrating –”

“Your knee is bouncing,” Shoto clarifies.”

I clamp my knee still. “Okay. Maybe I’m… stressed.”

“Because of Bakugo?” Iida asks gently.

My heart does a weird flip. “It’s not – I mean, yes, but – Not just because of him. There’s a not to prepare.”

Ochako sits beside me, her hand warm over mine. “Deku. He’s just one of the guest heroes.”

One. Singular.

One very explosive, loud, emotionally complicated guest hero who hasn’t spoken to me in a year.

I swallow. “I don’t know how to… be around him anymore.”

Shoto’s gaze is steady, unblinking. “You still care for him.”

My voice comes out small. “I always have.”

“Does he know?” Ochako asks softly.

I shake my head. “No. And he shouldn’t. That’s not – I mean, we’re not – It doesn’t matter.”

Iida frowns. “Midoriya, keeping your feelings bottled is not healthy. Emotional well-being is important for professionals.”

I make a sound halfway between a laugh and a sigh. “It’s not like that. He deserves better than someone who can’t even… look at him without falling apart.”

Ochako squeezes my shoulder. “Deku… you don’t give yourself enough credit.”

Shoto nods. “Bakugo has grown too. He may surprise you.”

I stare at the surface of my tea, watching the reflection ripple. “I don’t think I can handle surprises where he’s concerned.”

But the truth is simpler.

I don’t trust me around him.
Not anymore.
Not after this year.

- KATSUKIS POV –

The punching bag in the training room never stood a chance.

The reinforced material creaks dangerously every time my fist connects, explosions sparking in controlled bursts. Sweat runs down my temple, dripping off my chin. My muscles burn, but it’s familiar burn – one I know how to handle.

The burn in my chest? That one’s harder to deal with.

I hit the bag again. Hard. The chain rattles.

Behind me, Eijiro whistles. “Dude. You’re gonna kill that thing.”

“Shut up,” I grunt, throwing another punch.

Mina sits cross-legged on top of the weight bench, kicking her feet. “Someone’s cranky.”

I ignore her.

Denki leans against the wall, sipping an energy drink. “Sooo… are you training because you’re stressed, or are you stressed because you’re training?”

“Both,” I snap.

They exchange looks.

I hate it when they exchange looks.

Eijiro steps closer. “You’re thinking about U.A..”

“No shit,” I spit.

“Specifically,” Mina adds, “you’re thinking about a certain green-haired someone who works at U.A.”

“I swear,” I snarl, “if you say one more word – ”

“Kacchan –” Denki sings.

“DON’T CALL ME THAT.”

The room goes quiet.

My chest rises and falls, breath sharp and uneven. I swipe my forearm across my forehead.

Damn it.

Why does even hearing that old name make something twist in my gut? Like a thread pulled too tight.

Eijiro approaches carefully. “Bro… you gotta talk to him eventually.”

“No, I don’t.”

“Yes,” Mina counters. “You do. Because if you go into Guest Week with this much emotional constipation, the students are gonna sense it.”

Denki nods wisely. “Kids are psychic. It’s a known fact.”

“Shut the fuck up.”

But they’re not wrong.
I know they’re not wrong.

Seeing him again is inevitable. I agreed to the schedule before I even knew he’d be there.

Before I knew he was the damn teacher coordinating two of the hero analysis panels.

My stomach drops just thinking about it.

The bad sways slightly. I steady it with one hand, fingers digging into the material.

“Look,” I mutter, staring at the floor, “I’m not… ready.”

Mina’s voice softens. “What scares you more? That he hates you? Or that he doesn’t?”

I freeze.

Eijiro’s hand lands on my shoulder. Steady. Warm. Familiar.

“Bro, man… you miss him.”

I grit my teeth so hard my jaw aches.

Missing him is an understatement. I haven’t stopped thinking about him for a single day. But what right do I have to miss him? After everything I did?

I stayed away, didn’t reached out to him myself, because I thought it was better for him. Still think that.

“I don’t know what I’ll do when I see him,” I admit. “I’m doing this fucking week and after that… we’ll be back at… this.”

Eijiro sighs. “Maybe not… but you’ll figure it out.”

Denki adds, “Just don’t explode on him.”

Mina snorts. “Literally or emotionally.”

“Both,” Denki clarifies.

I roll my eyes but the corner of my mouth twitches.

Idiots. All of them.

I throw one last punch into the bag, letting the impact roll through me, grounding myself.

Nearly a month.

Just a few weeks until I walk back into U.A.

Into the place where everything started.
Into the place where everything nearly broke.
Where everything changed.

Nearly a month until I see him again.

I blow out a breath.

“I’m gonna shower,” I mutter.

Mina beams. “Progress!”

I flip her off on my way out.

She just laughs.