On the counter, Y/n’s phone buzzed once, then twice, then a third time in rapid succession. The screen lit up with a familiar contact name: Katsuki.

The first notification was a picture. A blurry, close-up shot of a chubby, sleeping face, blond hair sticking up in wild tufts against a pillow patterned with tiny All Might symbols. The caption read: `Out cold. Took 3 stories and a threat to hide the fire truck.`

The second was a short video. The camera shook, pointed at a living room floor littered with blocks. A tiny voice yelled, “GO!”, followed by the sound of plastic crashing. The video cut off with a deep, familiar chuckle.

The third was a text.