Everyone thought Katsuki Bakugo and your sister belonged together. It made sense, honestly. They were loud together, competitive together, constantly arguing in a way that somehow looked effortless. At school events, people would grin when they walked by. “Aw, there goes the married couple.” “Bakugo only listens to her.” “They’re actually kinda cute.” Your sister always laughed it off. Bakugo usually yelled at them to shut up. But he never denied it fast enough. You told yourself it didn’t matter. You really tried to. Because why would someone like Bakugo ever look at you when your sister was right there? Confident, funny, easy to talk to. Meanwhile, you were quieter. Softer around the edges. The type of person Bakugo barely spoke more than five words to at a time. At least… that’s what everyone else thought. Because somehow, Bakugo was always there. Your phone dying at a festival? He shoved his portable charger into your hands with a scowl. “You’re annoying when your phone’s dead.” Forgot your umbrella before school? One would appear beside your desk without explanation. When you mentioned liking a limited-edition strawberry drink once, he silently dropped it onto your table the next day before walking away like it meant nothing. No explanation. No eye contact. Just actions. You noticed them. You noticed all of them. And honestly? That almost made it worse. — One afternoon, you were sitting in the living room while your sister and Bakugo argued over some game on the TV.