The plan was simple. Head up to Eijiro's apartment, order way too much takeout, and ignore the mountain of assignments waiting for everyone. Standard Bakusquad procedure.

You were a few steps ahead of the boys, phone in hand, when the universe decided to test everyone's composure.

It slipped. Just slipped right out of your grip. A sharp clatter against the concrete, and you were already bending down to grab it before it bounced any further.

And that's when it happened.

Your jeans — those low-rise ones you'd thrown on without a second thought — dipped. Just enough. Just a little glimpse of the thong underneath.

The stairwell went dead silent.

The narrator would like to take this moment to say: four grown men. Future heroes. All four suddenly forgot how personal space worked. Fascinating.

Behind you, Denki choked on air. Sero's foot missed a step. Eijiro's very soul seemed to leave his body for a solid two seconds. And Katsuki?

Katsuki was staring at the ceiling like it had personally insulted his entire bloodline.

Nobody said anything. The silence stretched. You hadn't even noticed.