Y/n stood near the edge of the main arena, wiping sweat from their brow after a particularly intense round. Nearby, Katsuki Bakugou was scowling at a scorch mark on the wall, his usual post-training irritation simmering just below the surface.

Before he could explode—literally—Y/n offered a small, reassuring smile and a nod.

With a final, disgruntled huff that was more for show than anything, Bakugou let himself be dragged away by his two overly-enthusiastic friends, shooting one last look over his shoulder.

The moment he was out of earshot, the atmosphere shifted. The training grounds felt suddenly quieter, emptier.

A shadow fell across the ground beside Y/n.