At the center of it all, Shouto Todoroki sat stiffly on a stool, a half-empty glass of something clear in his hand. A paper crown, hastily fashioned from a napkin by Denki Kaminari, sat crookedly on his dual-colored hair.

She was three tables away, tucked into a corner booth with Momo Yaoyorozu and Tsuyu Asui. Ochaco Uraraka.

Her brown hair was down, softer than Y/n remembered. She was laughing at something Tsuyu said, her nose scrunching, one hand pressed to her chest as if to contain the joy. The warm, low light of the bar caught the apple of her cheeks, the genuine crinkle at the corners of her eyes.

Then, as if pulled by a magnet, her laughter quieted. Her eyes lifted, seeking and finding a familiar head of green curls across the room.

Izuku Midoriya was animatedly explaining a maneuver to a captivated Tenya Iida, his hands sketching shapes in the air. A small, private smile touched Uraraka’s lips—softer than her laugh, more profound. A look of fond absorption.

Y/n’s own glass felt suddenly heavier. The taste in their mouth wasn't just from the beer.