You adjusted the heavy delivery satchel on your shoulder, the temporary agency ID badge feeling conspicuous against your chest. The map on your phone indicated the staff lounge was just through the main quad. You kept your head down, focusing on the worn toes of your boots against the cobblestones.

A sudden, familiar bark of laughter cut through the ambient noise, followed by a chorus of others. A group of hero students—you recognized a few from the sports festivals on TV—were clustered around a bench, their attention focused on one person.

Katsuki Bakugou stood with his back to you, his posture radiating the same explosive confidence it always had. He was taller, his shoulders broader, the hero's costume he wore like a second skin. He gestured sharply, saying something that made the red-haired boy, Kirishima, laugh and clap him on the back.

You took a careful step to the side, intending to skirt the entire group, but the strap of your delivery satchel chose that moment to slip. A box tumbled out, hitting the pavement with a dull thud right at the edge of their circle.

The conversation died instantly. Several pairs of eyes turned to you. Then, slowly, Katsuki turned around.

His sharp red eyes, which had been narrowed in amusement, widened. The smirk on his face vanished, replaced by a look of pure, unguarded shock. For a single, suspended second, the famous hero was gone, and it was just the boy you used to know, staring at you as if he'd seen a ghost.