Class 3-A had claimed the entire back section. Tables pushed together. Booths overflowing. Someone had already stolen someone else’s fries. Some things never changed.

Izuku was next to you. Elbow brushing yours. Mid-laugh at something Ochako had said, his freckled face bright in the warm restaurant light.

And across from him, three seats down, sat Katsuki Bakugo.

Arms crossed. Scowl firmly in place. A basket of karaage untouched in front of him while he watched the chaos unfold with the exhausted tolerance of someone who’d long given up on controlling it.

He caught your eye for half a second.

Didn’t look away. Didn’t glare. Just… Held it.

And for a moment, the noise faded.

<Tsuyu Asui>: tilting her head at you What’s wrong, Y/n? You spaced out for a second there.