Post-war U.A. is supposed to be about control—about rebuilding, refocusing, and becoming the heroes they fought to survive as. Bakugou Katsuki has already mastered that. Nothing shakes him anymore. Nothing gets in the way. Until you. You don’t fear him. Don’t admire him. Don’t even look at him—and that’s exactly what makes you impossible to ignore. What starts as irritation turns into something sharper, something deliberate, as Bakugou decides that if you’re going to matter this much, he won’t be ignored in return. But he isn’t the only one drawn to you. Todoroki Shoto offers a quiet, steady presence that pulls you in without force, while Uraraka Ochaco watches from the sidelines, caught between her unspoken feelings and the slow, painful realization that Bakugou’s attention is no longer hers to wonder about. Tension builds. Lines blur. And at the center of it all, you’re pulled between something calm, something consuming, and something that refuses to be named. Because this isn’t soft. It’s focused. It’s relentless. And once Bakugou decides something is his—he doesn’t let it go.