Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Third Person POV:

"Now, it's come to my attention that there's... some tension amongst this group."

Mina Ashido stood planted in front of the coffee table like she was delivering a TED Talk on Friendship Maintenance. Her pink curls bounced as she gestured dramatically, her brows furrowed in uncharacteristic seriousness.

Behind her, a whiteboard—clearly dragged all the way from the study room—read "INTERVENTION" in pink bubble letters, outlined with highlighter and covered in glitter stickers that sparkled menacingly under the overhead light.

It was sparkly. It was threatening. It was very Mina.

Sero tilted his head from where he lounged sideways on the couch, one leg dangling over the armrest like he lived there. "Aw man, I thought we were just doing movie night..."

Katsuki Bakugou made a noise like a dying engine from his isolated corner of the room. Arms crossed, legs spread like he dared someone to say anything, he looked about one word away from incinerating the couch. "This is fucking stupid."

Mina spun to face him, her stance shifting into battle mode. "No, it's not," she snapped, stabbing a pink-painted finger in his direction. "And you are literally one of the main reasons we're having this, Blasty."

Bakugou's eye twitched like it might explode off his face. But to everyone's mild surprise, he didn't bite back. He just scoffed and sank lower in his seat like a pressure cooker with a jammed valve.

Kirishima, caught sitting beside him like he'd accidentally been cast as the emotional mediator in an indie film, scratched nervously at the back of his neck. "This is gonna be a lot," he muttered, eyes darting from Bakugou to Mina like he was stuck between a grenade and a pink chainsaw.

Mina sighed like she'd been holding it in for days—weeks, even. And honestly, she had.

She'd noticed it. The tension. The silence. The side glances that used to be jokes but had stopped being funny. The way game nights ended early now. The way Bakugou left rooms when certain people entered. The way Kirishima looked tired all the time.

The vibes? They were off. And no one was doing anything about it.

Until now.

"Okay, first order of business—wait. Where the hell is Denki?" Mina spun in a full circle, scanning the room as if he might be hiding under a couch cushion.

Bakugou clicked his tongue. "Told you this was a waste of time."

"Kat, please," Kirishima muttered with a tired sigh as he dragged his hand down his face.

"I thought Denki was in his dorm?" Sero sat up a little straighter and pulled out his phone. "Didn't he say he was just gonna change shirts?"

"I told him to meet us in the common room for our friendship intervention!" Mina whined. "How are we supposed to fix our issues when one of the main perpetrators is AWOL?"

"'Friendship intervention,'" Sero echoed flatly. "That's what we're calling this now?"

Mina put her hands on her hips. "Yes. And it's serious."

"Can I be exempt?" he asked. "I thought I was vibing just fine."

"You are," Mina said quickly, then jabbed a finger in his direction. "Which is exactly why I need you to be the middle man."

Sero groaned and let his head fall back dramatically against the couch. "I hate being emotionally well-adjusted."

"Alright," Kirishima said, standing up and stretching like he was heading into combat. "I'll go get Denki, and then we can... just start this thing."

Bakugou scoffed again. "This is a fuckin' waste of time."

Without missing a beat, Sero muttered, "Yet you're still here."

Bakugou growled low in his throat—a real, primal noise—but didn't move. Mina raised an eyebrow at Sero, who just shrugged innocently.

While Kirishima disappeared up the stairs, Mina slumped onto the couch beside Sero with a long exhale.

"Did you do the English homework?" she asked suddenly.

Sero squinted. "Which part?"

"Uh... all of it?"

He blinked. "Yikes. You need it?"

"I would love you forever."

He opened his mouth to reply, but just then—

CRASH.

It came from upstairs, followed by the chaotic thumping of feet and the unmistakable sound of someone screaming like they'd just walked in on a crime scene.

"WHAT THE FUCK!?"

"KIRISHIMA!?"

"OH MY GOD I'M SO SORRY!"

Everyone downstairs froze.

Sero slowly turned toward the stairwell. "...Do I even want to know?"

The thundering footsteps grew louder, closer, faster—and then, with all the grace of a redheaded freight train, Kirishima tripped on the last step and faceplanted onto the carpet in front of them.

"Dude!" Sero rushed to help him up. "What the hell happened?!"

Kirishima was red-faced, panting, and wide-eyed like he'd just barely survived a natural disaster. "D-Denki... h-had... his door... o-open..."

And like a scene straight out of a teen comedy gone wrong, Denki Kaminari bolted down the stairs a second later. His hoodie was half-zipped, his blonde hair askew, and his face bright pink. His neck looked like someone had gone at it with a pack of wild, lipstick-wearing vampires.

"Kiri!?" Denki sputtered. "What the hell, dude!? Don't you knock anymore?"

Bakugou, who had already been halfway out of his seat, now stood at full height. His expression could only be described as incandescent with disgust. "You gotta be fucking kidding me."

Sero blinked. "Dude..."

Denki tugged his hoodie higher, like maybe—just maybe—it would somehow cover the visible battlefield that was his collarbone. "What? It was just a little kissing—"

"KISSING?!" Kirishima shrieked, still shaking. "THERE WAS TONGUE! AND CLOTHES WERE—WERE—" He grabbed a couch pillow and screamed into it.

Mina slapped her forehead with a groan loud enough to rattle the windows. "This! This right here is why we need this intervention. You horny bastards are derailing the group dynamic!"

Bakugou muttered something that sounded suspiciously like "fucking toddlers" before turning on his heel.

"There's no need for this wack-ass intervention," he growled over his shoulder. "Because I'm done."

"Wait, Kat—!" Kirishima reached out reflexively, but Bakugou was already halfway up the stairs, boots thudding with a fury that echoed.

Mina let out a breath that was part frustration, part pain, and all exhaustion. "God dammit."

It wasn't just about Bakugou storming off or Denki's mid-level PDA scandal. This had been brewing for days. Weeks, maybe. All the quiet tension, the awkward silences, the way people hesitated before speaking—before laughing.

Their group used to be chaos and noise and warmth. Now it felt like walking barefoot through broken glass just to have a conversation.

She turned slowly toward Kirishima. Her tone softened, gentler now, but still carrying the weight of everything she'd been holding in.

"Kiri," she said. "We need to talk."

The redhead blinked, still flushed from the trauma upstairs, his shoulders tense and eyes wary. His walls weren't up yet, but the bricks were in hand. "W-What's up?"

Denki and Mina exchanged a glance, both then turning to Sero. The tape-user was already groaning like he'd been sentenced to read everyone's therapy journals aloud.

"Why me? Why do I always have to be the mouthpiece?" he complained, gesturing broadly at the emotional minefield in front of him.

Mina elbowed him—not hard, but pointed.

Sero gave her a long look, then sighed and sat up straighter, rubbing the back of his neck like he was trying to work up the courage to be honest.

"Look... mi amigo..." he began, voice softer now, more careful. "We love you. Like, a lot."

"The most," Mina chimed in, no sarcasm, just sincerity.

"You're the big red glue that holds us together," Denki added brightly. "Like a jacked-up friendship Elmer's bottle with abs."

Kirishima blinked. "That's... sweet? I think?"

There was a beat of laughter, short and a little strained. Then Sero's smile faded.

"But..."

And just like that, Kirishima's body went still. Tension returned like armor being strapped back on.

"But we gotta be honest with you," Sero continued. "Bakugou's been... off. Like, not just regular Bakugou off. Worse. Sharper. Meaner."

Kirishima's brows drew together. His eyes flicked from Sero to Mina to Denki, searching their faces for something—an out, maybe. A joke. A sign this wasn't going where it was clearly going. "Wait—what?"

Mina gave him a look full of sympathy, but not softness. She wasn't coddling him. "He's been lashing out at people, Kiri. Everyone. Constantly. And it's not just bad days anymore—it's all the time. The common rooms clear out when he walks in. People are literally timing meals to avoid him."

Denki held up a finger. "Kouda asked him to pass the salt last week. The salt, Kiri. And Bakugou told him to 'grow a spine or eat bland.' The dude almost cried."

Mina grimaced. "He did cry. I saw him in the hallway with Tokoyami giving him a literal pep talk about seasoning."

Kirishima's jaw twitched.

"And then there was Momo," Mina continued, her voice low. "All she said was, 'Your shoelace is untied.' That's it. Not rude. Not smug. Just helpful. And Bakugou blew up at her. Snapped something about how he could tie his own damn shoes without the extra commentary. Momo was genuinely upset."

"Mi amor was pissed," Sero muttered, nodding. "And you know Roki doesn't even get mad usually. He was ready to lay down a dissertation on basic decency. And you know Roki doesn't raise his voice unless someone's on fire or disrespects a library."

"And me?" Denki cut in, quieter now. "He's been dragging me through the mud over stuff from last semester—every time we're together. Group hangouts turn into roast sessions. Like he's waiting for the vibe to lighten up just so he can drop a ten-ton insult out of nowhere."

Kirishima was quiet now, lips pressed into a hard line. There was something behind his eyes—conflict, guilt, confusion. The kind of emotional whiplash you only get when you've been blind to something you should have seen.

Mina let the silence stretch for a moment before stepping in again. "We're not saying he's a villain, Kiri. He's still your boyfriend. He's still Bakugou. But something's wrong. The vibe's broken. People are walking on eggshells. And we're not going to keep pretending it's normal."

Sero placed a hand on Kirishima's shoulder—not heavy, but grounding. "We know how close you are to him. We're not asking you to pick sides. We love that he makes you happy."

"But maybe," Mina said, "he doesn't have to be a part of everything right now."

There it was.

Kirishima's chest rose like he was about to defend him—say something fierce, loyal, loud. But instead, he exhaled. Slow. Controlled. His hands rubbed over his knees, like he was trying to stay steady.

"I didn't..." His voice cracked slightly. "I didn't know it was that bad."

"It's not your fault," Sero said immediately. "You've been stuck in the middle for months, trying to keep things from falling apart. That's a heavy job, man."

"And it's burning you out," Mina added gently. "We see it. You're tired. You're quieter. You don't light up when you walk in the room anymore."

"I thought..." Kirishima hesitated. "I thought I could keep the peace. Make it work for everyone."

"You shouldn't have to play referee every single time we hang out," Denki said, looking up. "You're not a middleman. You're not a shield. You're our friend. You deserve peace too."

Kirishima looked down at his hands, voice cracking a little. "So what—you guys don't want to hang out with me anymore?"

"No! No, Kiri—" Mina immediately scooted closer, grabbing his hand like it was the most important thing in the room. "That's not what we're saying."

"We love you," Denki added quickly. "It's not about kicking you out. We just... need some space. From him."

There was a pause. Kirishima didn't pull his hand away, but his shoulders slumped.

"I just... It's hard. Everyone else gets to bring their boyfriends around without a problem. Why is mine different?"

Mina raised a brow. "Shinso doesn't even want to hang out with us. That man is a full-time introvert with a sleep schedule so weird he's basically nocturnal."

"None taken," Denki muttered, raising a hand like he was surrendering on Shinso's behalf.

"And my boyfriend," Sero added, "isn't setting people's emotional well-being on fire with his vibes."

Kirishima opened his mouth again—ready to argue, ready to defend—but he stopped. Closed it. The air in the room sat heavy around them.

Silence.

Finally, it was Sero who broke it.

"Okay," he said slowly. "What if we compromise?"

Everyone looked at him.

"No boyfriends at hangouts. Just for one week. No exceptions. Just the four of us. Like the old days. We reset. Laugh. Heal. See where we're at."

Denki blinked, then nodded. "That's... actually fair."

Mina gave a thoughtful pause, then smiled softly. "Yeah. It is."

Kirishima didn't answer right away. But something in his face eased—only slightly, like a crack in a dam. After a long, weighted silence, he nodded once. "Okay. Deal."

And just like that, something shifted in the air.

The tension didn't vanish, but it broke. Like steam leaving the room. Like a burden they'd all been holding finally exhaled with them.

Denki leaned forward, practically bouncing. "So that means we're going out this weekend, right? No emotional trauma. Just vibes."

Sero leaned back against the couch, grinning. "Already got it mapped out."

Mina narrowed her eyes suspiciously. "Define 'mapped out.'"

Sero smirked, wide and shameless. "Karaoke, spicy wings, and a potentially illegal amount of cotton candy."

Denki fist-pumped. "YES. My organs are not ready, but my heart is."

"Your pancreas is sobbing," Mina muttered, already pulling out her phone to start planning outfits.

But Kirishima... Kirishima just sat there for a moment, taking it all in. His smile wasn't big. It wasn't loud. But it was real. Warm. Honest. The kind of smile that creeps in when hope starts to crawl back from wherever it's been hiding.

And for the first time in weeks, maybe longer, he felt something return to his chest.

He felt like he could breathe again.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"I can't be with you anymore?"

Sero flinched like the words were physical, like Todoroki had reached out and flicked a switch that made the entire world colder. He blinked, caught off guard, heart lurching like it had just missed a step.

The way Todoroki said it—quiet, flat, almost gentle—somehow hit harder than yelling ever could. Like he wasn't angry. Just... done.

"Mi amor—" Sero started, voice cracking at the edges, half whisper, half plea.

"That's what you said, Hanta." Todoroki didn't raise his voice. Didn't accuse. But the distance in his tone was worse. He stood from the edge of the bed, arms folding in tightly against himself, a quiet sort of defense. "I'm just repeating what you said."

Sero dragged his hands down his face like he could scrape the guilt off, but it clung stubbornly. "Mi amor, I said the others—"

"Kirishima," Todoroki cut in sharply, his tone finally shifting—colder, edged like ice under pressure.

Sero winced. "Yeah. Kiri. He and the others... thought it might be fair. Since we all agreed to take a breather from Bakugou, we figured maybe some space would help everything calm down. Help us reset."

Todoroki's head tilted just slightly, his expression still unreadable, but the judgment behind that quiet stare was razor-sharp. "And that includes me, apparently."

"It wasn't meant to." Sero's voice was quick, stumbling, defensive. "Look, things with Bakugou have been tense. Like... 'Midoriya flinches when he opens his mouth' tense. Like Denki pretends to scroll his phone just so he doesn't have to make eye contact tense. Like Kiri's got stress headaches from clenching his jaw too hard and won't admit it."

Todoroki didn't smile, but something in his eyes flickered—amusement maybe, or maybe just recognition. It didn't last.

He nodded once, slowly. "So the solution you all landed on was... exclusion."

"No." Sero exhaled. "No, it was more like... strategy. We weren't trying to exile anybody. We just thought—if we all took a little space, if we weren't feeding into every spark, maybe Bakugou wouldn't feel so cornered. Maybe he'd cool down without anyone lighting the fuse."

"And the cost of that strategy," Todoroki said, voice low, "was me."

Sero's throat tightened. "I didn't mean to make you feel that way."

"But you did." Todoroki didn't say it unkindly. It wasn't a weapon. Just a fact.

He stepped forward, arms still crossed, the corner of his mouth twitching—not a smile, but the ghost of one, bitter and brief. "You all act like Bakugou's some kind of bomb with legs. Like he's going to explode any second and take down whoever's standing too close. But maybe—just maybe—if the people he actually cares about didn't start vanishing, he wouldn't be walking around looking like a live wire."

Sero's mouth opened. Closed. There were so many ways to respond—defensiveness, deflection, excuses—but none of them felt right in the face of Todoroki's calm clarity. It was like arguing against the wind: pointless, quiet, and still somehow capable of cutting right through you.

Instead, he muttered, a weak smile tugging at one corner of his lips, "...You sound like Iida."

"That's a compliment," Todoroki replied instantly, deadpan, without so much as a blink. The way he said it left no room for argument—just pure conviction.

Sero chuckled, rubbing the back of his neck, a little sheepish. "Yeah. Yeah, I guess it is."

Todoroki didn't uncross his arms, but the shift was there—the faint loosening in his posture, the way his shoulders sloped down a little, like something in him had unclenched.

His gaze wandered to the floor, landing somewhere just past Sero's shoes. "Still... Bakugou's been on edge. At the agency, he's even more volatile than usual. Shouting. Snapping. Barking orders like he's on a battlefield, not a mission."

Sero stepped in, slow and careful, like approaching something fragile. Not because Todoroki was, but because Sero cared enough to treat his feelings like something precious. He brushed their fingers together before gently lacing their hands.

"Speaking of," he said softly, "how's work been? With your dad, I mean."

Todoroki was quiet for a few seconds. Not withdrawn—just thoughtful. Like the question needed space before it could be answered. Then he exhaled, the sound low and deliberate, as if he was releasing something heavy through it.

"My father..." he started, voice a little softer now. "He tries. He'll ask about my day. He offers tips like he's some kind of mentor-slash-dad hybrid. Sometimes it's helpful. Sometimes it's... weird. Like he's reading from a manual titled 'How to Talk to Your Estranged Son in 10 Easy Steps.'"

Sero smiled, but said nothing. He knew better than to rush him.

"He hesitates now," Todoroki added, eyes far away. "Like he's trying not to trigger something. Like he's walking through a house he used to burn down and suddenly realized he wants to live in it again."

"That's... poetic. Sad. Accurate," Sero said gently.

"I'm trying too," Todoroki continued. "Not because I've forgiven everything. I haven't. But... I want to be better. I don't want the pain to win. If I let that bitterness control me, then I'm still living by his rules."

Sero smiled, warm and proud, brushing his thumb along Todoroki's knuckles. "You're doing good, mi amor. That's more growth than most people manage in a lifetime."

Todoroki nodded slowly, but his lips pressed into a tight line. "Still... something feels off."

Sero tilted his head. "Because of Midoriya?"

There was a beat. Then a nod.

Sero's expression softened with concern. "Mi amor," he said quietly.

Todoroki's shoulders shifted again, like he was trying to shake something off—shame, maybe. "He's kind," he said. "Too kind. He's always looking at me like I might break. Tries to make things easier. I can tell he regrets it—telling my dad about us. He's overcompensating. And I want to let it go, but..."

He trailed off, looking away. His next words came out hesitant, like they'd been sitting in his throat for a while.

"I didn't get a say. About when or how or if I was ready for Endeavor to know about us. About me."

Sero stepped in again, closing the last of the space between them. One hand cupped Todoroki's cheek, thumb brushing gently across the faint flush rising there. His touch was warm, grounding.

"You feel conflicted about how you feel about him?" Sero asked, voice quiet, like it was just for them.

Todoroki met his gaze, eyes softer now. "Yeah... that. Exactly that. Some days, I think it's okay. He was trying to help. Then other days, I'm angry. Because it wasn't his decision. It was mine, and he took it from me."

Sero nodded slowly, understanding flickering through his gaze. "That kind of trust is hard to rebuild. You don't owe him instant forgiveness. And it's okay that it's messy."

Todoroki said nothing for a moment. Then, he leaned forward slightly, resting his forehead against Sero's. The touch was featherlight, but it steadied him.

"You always know what to say."

Sero smiled faintly. "Nah, I just love you enough to try."

Todoroki's lips curved into a rare, small smile, and he kissed Sero softly, lingering just long enough to say what words couldn't.

When they pulled back, Todoroki sighed. "Still. I can't pretend the group's decisions didn't hurt. I don't want to be isolated. I want to be part of this. With you. With everyone. But not like this. Not by cutting people out."

Sero gave him a sly smirk, playfully nudging his hip. "Oh? Is mi amor upset he couldn't cuddle me for a week?"

Todoroki raised one unimpressed eyebrow. "Not at all. In fact, I'm thinking of helping you commit to that decision... by sleeping in my own room tonight."

Sero blinked. "Wait. What?"

Todoroki turned toward the hallway, slow and deliberate. "Just supporting the plan you all agreed to."

"Mi amor—hold up." Sero rushed in front of him, arms out like a wall. "You can't seriously weaponize my own dumb decision against me!"

Todoroki regarded him calmly, arms crossing again. "Is my love upset about sleeping alone?"

Sero narrowed his eyes. "Oh, so we're in full mischievous ice prince mode again, huh?"

Todoroki tilted his head. "You missed it."

"...A little," Sero admitted, grinning. He looped his arms around Todoroki's waist, hugging him tight, cheek pressed against his the top of his head. "You're right. About everything. I'll talk to Kiri. And the others. Hell, I'll even try with Bakugou. We need to fix this... not just patch it."

Todoroki's fingers threaded into Sero's hair, gentle. "Thank you, Hanta."

"...After this weekend," Sero added quickly.

Todoroki raised a brow. "What's this weekend?"

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"No."

"Guys—"

"No!"

"Come on, dudes—"

"NO! What the actual hell, man?!" Kirishima practically launched himself off the beanbag chair, his face redder than his hair, fists clenched like he was about to throw hands. "We had ONE RULE."

Sero stood in the center of chaos, arms thrown up in surrender like a man surrounded by pro-heroes with bad news. "Okay, okay! Look—before you all collectively stab me with eyeliner and betrayal, hear me out—this is not entirely my fault."

"It kinda is," Mina said, turning halfway around in her vanity chair. Her half-curled hair bounced like she was starring in a shampoo commercial, curling wand still clutched like a weapon of judgment.

Denki sprawled like roadkill across Mina's fluffy pink comforter, his legs dangling off the edge. "Nah, she's right, bro. You definitely blew up the plan."

Kirishima stormed closer like he was about to deliver a speech at a betrayed boyfriends' support group. "We made a pact, Sero! No drama, no partners, no weird emotional explosions—just a Main 4 Night of wings, video games, and singing! What part of that screamed 'invite your emotionally complex boyfriend' to you?!"

Sero threw up his hands like a man caught mid-crime. "Okay! Yes! I may have altered the terms of our agreement, but listen—mi amor's been on my case about being 'reckless' lately and I didn't wanna sneak out again and start another fight, so I told him about it. He's worried, okay?! He thinks we're doing a heist or something!"

Denki's jaw dropped. "You narc'd?!"

"It wasn't narcing! It was strategic relationship communication!"

"Also known as narcing," Mina deadpanned.

"Also," Sero quickly added, holding up one finger like that would save him, "he brought up a solid point: maybe excluding Bakugou wasn't the right move."

"That was your plan!" Kirishima snapped. "You're the one who cooked up that 'one week detox' crap! You said 'Bakugou would ruin the chill vibe with his aggressive energy and emotional screaming!'"

"I know!" Sero wailed. "But I panicked! And—honestly—this is kind of your fault, Mina!"

"WHAT?!" Mina shrieked, nearly flinging her curling wand across the room.

"You told me I was the 'middle man'!" Sero flailed dramatically. "I was just the messenger! I didn't sign up to be a romantic hostage negotiator!"

"You absolute coward," Mina muttered, whipping a scrunchie at his head with Olympic-level precision.

Meanwhile, Denki let out a slow whistle, still unmoving. "Man, this is why we can't have coordinated emotional evenings."

Kirishima groaned and stomped across the room like an angry dad. "So let me get this straight: not only did I ditch Bakugou for the sake of Bro Night Peace, but now I gotta show up at karaoke and watch you and Todoroki make heart eyes over mozzarella sticks?!"

Sero winced. "There's gonna be curly fries too."

"UNBELIEVABLE."

Denki stretched on the bed, popping his back like someone bracing for an emotional car crash. "Well... since we're all airing our sins... I kinda invited Shinso."

Silence.

Silence so heavy it could crush mountains.

Kirishima froze. Mina gasped so hard she choked on her own glitter mist. Sero looked like his soul had physically left his body.

"You did what?" Kirishima hissed.

"I just thought it'd be, y'know, fun," Denki shrugged, far too nonchalant for someone confessing to social treason. "Figured you'd cave eventually, Sero. Plus, Shinso's cool. And cute when he pretends not to care about karaoke."

Sero pretended to sniff dramatically. "Wow, that hurts."

Kirishima facepalmed as Mina let out a groan so long and so dramatic it echoed like a soap opera wail through the dorm.

"You guys are such simps," she muttered, reaching for her glitter highlighter like it could save her from the disaster unfolding around her.

Sero flopped back onto the bed like a drama king. "Kiri, wait—wait, what are you doing?" He sat bolt upright as he saw Kirishima swiping aggressively on his phone.

"Calling my boyfriend," Kirishima said with absolutely no remorse. "If we're doing this, I'm not going down alone."

"Kiri, no—" Denki groaned.

"Kiri, yes!" Kirishima beamed as the phone rang.

Mina, Denki, and Sero all groaned in synchronized emotional pain like a tragic Greek chorus.

"Hey, babe?" Kirishima said sweetly into the phone, his tone flipping like a switch. "Yeah, I know we said we weren't doing anything tonight, but there's wings. And nachos. And karaoke... Yeah? No, I know... but like, for me?...I know but it'll be fun. Especially with you Kat...Please?"

Mina gave him a long stare. "You're disgusting."

Kirishima stuck his tongue out before he went back to his conversation, " Babe I know...Listen if you come I'll sing your favorite song to you."

Denki faked gagged as Kirishima grinned triumphantly as he hung up. "He's in."

Sero stared at him like he was watching his life flash before his eyes. "You just doomed us all."

Kirishima folded his arms. "What? I'm not about to be the only boyfriend-less one there while you and Todoroki reenact a rom-com in the middle of the dance floor!"

Denki stretched, popping his back. "Honestly, if Shinso slow-dances with me, I'm not even gonna pretend to be sorry."

"Meanwhile, I'm still single and emotionally available for chicken tenders and nobody's appreciating it," Mina huffed, flopping onto the bed beside Denki.

Sero sighed, dropping dramatically into a beanbag. "This night was supposed to be Switzerland. Neutral territory. No fire. No angst. No couple energy."

"You mean no Bakugou yelling," Denki corrected.

"Same thing."

"And now we've got three couples, karaoke, unresolved trauma, and at least one person with literal explosives for emotions," Mina said. "We're basically a live-action soap opera."

"I told you," Kirishima muttered, pacing again like a general evaluating battlefield logistics. "I told you this was gonna spiral."

" Yeah and I know that Shinso is quiet, but if Bakugou yells at me in front of him, oh man when he gets pissed, he gets pissed."

Kirishima groaned, " This is going to be a shit show."

" More drama...hey at least I have something to talk about in Girl's Night," Mina giggled.

"Okay, okay," Sero said, sitting up and clapping his hands together. "New plan. We go to the karaoke room. We dance. We snack. We try to keep it chill. Then—after—we sit everyone down and we talk. Real talk. Get it all out. No yelling. No fire. Just... therapy but make it casual."

Denki raised a hand. "Can we have snacks during this talk? Like... emotional buffer snacks?"

Mina sat up with renewed hope. "I vote mochi. Or cheesecake bites. Emotional support cheesecake."

Sero nodded solemnly. "I will bring cookies. The gooey kind. Homemade."

"Fine," Kirishima muttered before pointing at Sero. "But if Bakugou explodes anything, I'm invoicing YOU for my dry cleaning."

"Fair."

"And no weird karaoke couple songs. One per duo, max."

"Define weird," Denki said. "Because Shinso and I already picked a sad boy acoustic remix of 'Careless Whisper.'"

"Oh god," Mina groaned into her glitter bag.

Kirishima clutched his head. "What is our life?"

Sero just smirked and threw an arm around him. "Teenage chaos, bro. And you know you love it."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Hey, babe~"

The words floated through the dorm common room like a cheesy love song, and Bakugou's eye twitched before he'd even turned his head. He didn't need to—he already knew that obnoxiously cheerful voice.

Sure enough, when he glanced over, there stood Kirishima, grinning from ear to ear, red hair pushed back with extra gel and dressed in a jacket that sparkled obnoxiously in the overhead lights.

Bakugou's scowl deepened.

Around him, the room was already buzzing with activity. Sero sat relaxed on the couch, legs crossed casually, one hand intertwined with Todoroki's.

Todoroki, dressed in a clean-cut button-up and black slacks that screamed I'm not trying but still look better than all of you, blinked slowly at the chaos unfolding.

Denki had just burst in with Shinso in tow—Shinso looking vaguely annoyed but begrudgingly stylish in a dark turtleneck and slacks. Mina skipped in behind them, wearing a glitter bomber jacket, glitter boots, and glitter eyeliner. She practically sparkled like a disco ball come to life.

"What the fu—" Bakugou began, already regretting not locking himself in his room.

"Sooo!" Denki interrupted dramatically, throwing his arms up like a conductor at an orchestra. "Who's excited? Because I'm so excited!"

"Oh hell yeah," Sero said with a stretch, bouncing his knee. "I've been dreaming about good food, singing my head off and spicy wings all damn day."

"Don't forget, Hanta," Todoroki chimed in, his voice calm and steady. "Curfew is 11:00."

"Yes, mi amor, I know," Sero replied dramatically, clutching his chest as if Todoroki had just broken his heart in front of everyone.

"Siiiimp," Mina and Denki teased in perfect sync, practically collapsing into each other with laughter.

Sero flipped them both off with zero hesitation.

Kirishima clapped once, rallying the group like they were about to storm a battlefield. "Alright, team! Let's move out—train station's not gonna wait!"

"Party time! Party time!" Denki and Mina began chanting in a rhythmic beat, bouncing on their heels as they skipped toward the door.

"I already fuckin' hate this," Bakugou growled, rubbing his temples.

Kirishima leaned in and gave him a quick kiss on the cheek, grinning like Bakugou hadn't just threatened bodily harm. "You'll warm up to it."

Behind them, Shinso and Sero followed close, with Todoroki walking in measured steps, the very picture of elegance and disinterest. The group spilled outside of the dorms, noisy and chaotic.

"Okay!" Denki called out, spinning to walk backward, arms swinging. "Here's the plan: we hit the arcade, THEN get food at karaoke—or we hit the arcade and go straight to the club after."

"Oh my god, that club? The one downtown?!" Mina gasped like she'd just seen a celebrity. Her eyes lit up like she was ready to abandon all responsibilities. "We haven't been there since, like, ever!"

"The one with the neon burgers," Kirishima added with a wide grin. "Glowed under the lights and probably gave us radiation poisoning."

"Correct!" Denki beamed proudly, like he'd just named a historic landmark.

"Isn't that the one you had fake IDs for?" Shinso asked dryly, raising an unimpressed brow.

Denki paused. "...Maybe~"

Sero, feeling a familiar tug on his hand, glanced over to see Todoroki giving the group a slow, deliberate look. His expression was subtle, but the message was clear.

Sero gulped.

"I don't think that's a good idea," Todoroki said, voice low but firm.

Denki and Mina both groaned dramatically.

"Come on, ShotoBaby," Mina whined, clutching his arm. "That place was iconic! We danced all night! It was amazing!"

"Yeah, and that's why you idiots got detention for months," Bakugou muttered, hands shoved in his pockets.

"And you," Todoroki turned to Sero with a raised brow, "lost your weekend privileges."

Sero sighed deeply, "Okay, yes, but if you think about it philosophically—"

"Don't," Todoroki deadpanned.

Sero immediately shut up.

"Yeah, okay, karaoke it is," he muttered in surrender.

Denki and Mina rolled their eyes in sync.

"And besides," Kirishima added brightly, "I don't think Kat's ever been to karaoke with us before, right Kat?"

"It's a goddamn waste of time," Bakugou muttered without missing a beat.

"Yet here you are," Mina sing-songed with a wink.

"Shut the hell up, Raccoon Eyes!"

Mina giggled as Sero leaned over to Todoroki again, a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips.

"Mi amor," he purred. "Have you ever been to karaoke?"

"No."

"Then clearly," Sero said, flipping his hair like a diva, "you haven't lived until you've had the Hanta Sero karaoke experience~"

Todoroki raised a single skeptical eyebrow.

"Dude, please," Denki snorted. "You suck at karaoke."

"I do not!" Sero exclaimed, scandalized.

"Last time we went, the waiter thought you were dying," Mina laughed so hard she had to grab Kirishima for support.

"You KNOW my throat was sore that day!" Sero protested, blushing furiously.

Kirishima, Denki, and Mina were full-on wheezing now.

"You know what?" Sero barked. "Y'all are some fake ass friends. I can sing!"

Denki and Kirishima exchanged a look.

"Then prove it," Denki smirked. "Karaoke battle. Winner takes glory."

Sero's eyes widened. "Bet."

"But we need judges," Kirishima added, wagging his finger. "HONEST judges. None of this 'I vote for my boyfriend' nonsense."

"Mi amor is the most honest person I know," Sero declared, placing a hand on his heart. "Right, mi amor?"

"I guess so," Todoroki replied blandly.

"Boom. Case closed!"

Kirishima rolled his eyes. "Hey Kat, you wanna be a judge?"

"No."

"Come onnnn—"

"No. Fuck off!"

Bakugou didn't even look at him.

Denki whined dramatically and flopped against Shinso, who looked like he regretted every decision he'd made that led to this.

Mina, ever the problem solver, shot up with her hand raised. "I'll be the head judge! Shotobaby and Shinso can be my co-judges."

Shinso groaned. "Why did I agree to this?"

"Because it's fun and romantic," Denki said, wrapping his arms around Shinso's shoulders like a koala. "It's basically karaoke date night!"

Shinso turned beet red and cleared his throat violently. "R-Right."

Denki looked way too pleased.

Mina clapped her hands like a game show was about to begin. "Let's get this party started!"

And just like that, the chaos machine roared to life.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Oh my GOSH, these wings are so good!" Mina moaned dramatically, eyes squeezed shut as if she'd just tasted a culinary miracle. She dipped a finger into the fiery buffalo sauce, then slowly licked it off like savoring the last drop of liquid gold. "Like, honestly, why don't we eat wings every day?"

Denki, sitting beside her, nodded emphatically with wide, shining eyes, his mouth already full of a messy, saucy wing. "I needed this," he mumbled between bites, barely pausing as he reached greedily for another. The buttery smell of fried chicken mingled with the tangy spice, and the whole table seemed to hum with the warm, greasy comfort of good food and louder friends.

Mina and Denki clinked their wings together in mock celebration, like delicate champagne flutes at a royal banquet. "Cheers!" they laughed, then dove back into their feast with gleeful, sauce-slick fingers and zero shame.

Across from them, Shinso sat with quiet composure, the exact picture of subtle restraint. One hand propped under his cheek, eyes never leaving Denki's animated face as he talked and chewed, his soft, private smile betraying how much the blond's childish enthusiasm actually made him happy.

Every now and then, Denki's eyes flickered over, flashing a goofy grin mid-chew, and Shinso had to bite back a smile, feeling his heart flutter even as he tried not to let it show.

At another corner of the table, Sero was methodically working through his basket of wings. He was way less messy than Denki—careful, calculated—but his eyes weren't on his food. They were on the boy beside him.

Todoroki sat quietly, as always, with a plate half-full of fries and a carefully half-eaten chicken sandwich. His posture was impeccable—napkin folded perfectly over his lap, hands surprisingly clean despite the chaos of the room. He nibbled cautiously, as if the whole concept of 'group dinner' was something he was still trying to figure out. His usual cool detachment gave way to a slight softness as his gaze drifted toward the others.

Sero scooted a little closer, their shoulders brushing lightly. Lowering his voice to an exaggerated sing-song, he teased, "Mi amor~"

Todoroki turned his head just enough to meet his eyes. "Hm?"

Leaning in with a mischievous grin, Sero whispered, "Remember the boyfriend tax~?"

Todoroki blinked slowly, head tilting in confusion. "The... what?"

Before Todoroki could process the question, Sero stealthily plucked a few of crispy fries from his plate and popped it into his own mouth with a satisfied crunch. He laughed softly as Todoroki blinked, caught between mild betrayal and amused resignation.

"Remember," Sero grinned through the fry, "boyfriend tax." He winked cheekily and stole another fry, fingers nimble and quick.

Todoroki narrowed his eyes, the faintest twitch of a smile playing on his lips. "I think you just made that up, Hanta... just to steal my food."

Sero gasped, clutching his chest like he'd just been wounded by a sharp truth. "Wow. Wow. Mi amor, I am wounded—emotionally and spiritually—"

Todoroki's eyes widened, genuinely concerned now. "A-Are you okay?" he asked, sitting straighter, voice soft and unexpectedly tender.

Sero blinked, then threw back his head and laughed—a full, warm sound that filled the room with easy joy. Even Mina paused mid-wing lick to glance over, smiling.

Pulling Todoroki gently into a loose side hug, Sero kept chuckling. "Please don't ever change, mi amor."

Todoroki blinked again, unsure for a moment, then caught the warmth in Sero's eyes—the small crinkles of happiness that softened his usually guarded face. Slowly, without a word, he leaned over and reached onto Sero's plate, plucking a wing right off his basket.

Sero's jaw dropped. "Hey!"

"Boyfriend taxes," Todoroki said flatly, chewing with zero remorse.

Sero gave him a slow, mock-betrayed glare, but the corner of his lips twitched in spite of himself. "Wow."

Todoroki snuggled closer against Sero's side, still munching his stolen wing, and Sero couldn't stay mad. His arm wrapped around Todoroki, fingers tracing lazy circles on the boy's back. His head rested gently against Todoroki's temple as he just listened to the hum of the room—the soft teasing between Mina and Denki as they argued over the best dipping sauce, the occasional burst of laughter from across the table.

Meanwhile, a little farther down the long, cluttered table, Kirishima sat quietly, his fork idly nudging a pile of untouched food. He smiled, sure—but it was one of those smiles that didn't quite reach his eyes, the kind that barely masks the unease bubbling beneath the surface.

His gaze drifted slowly across the table, taking in the small, effortless moments of joy happening all around him.

There was Sero and Todoroki, curled up in their own peaceful little bubble, exchanging soft smiles and quiet words only they could understand. Their hands sometimes brushed lightly, a language of touch without pressure or expectation.

Denki, animated and bright, was giggling uncontrollably, feeding curly fries to Shinso. Shinso, who looked vaguely overwhelmed but also strangely fond of the teasing blond, blinked rapidly as he tried not to show just how much Denki's antics had wormed their way under his skin.

Kirishima swallowed hard, a tight lump catching in his throat.

He was genuinely happy for them. Truly.

But when he turned his eyes toward the figure sitting beside him—his own boyfriend—he felt a sudden, sharp pang of something darker. Off. Uneasy.

Bakugou sat with his shoulders hunched, lips pressed into a tight line, glaring silently at his plate like it had personally offended his entire bloodline. His hands were clenched into fists on either side of his tray. He hadn't spoken a word since they sat down.

And Kirishima found himself wondering, with a growing weight in his chest: would he ever speak again tonight?

He loved Bakugou with everything he had—loved the fire in his eyes, the stubbornness, the fierce pride—but sometimes, that love felt like grasping at shadows.

Not when Bakugou was being himself, loud and aggressive and full of life. But when he sat there, shut down and distant, Kirishima wondered if it was enough.

The others leaned into each other, laughing, teasing, stealing fries, and sharing glances. Meanwhile, Kirishima sat quietly beside Bakugou, feeling smaller with each passing minute, questioning if maybe he'd said something wrong. Or if he'd done too little. Or too much.

Jealousy wasn't something Kirishima liked to admit. Not to himself, certainly not out loud. It felt too messy, too vulnerable. But here, now, he couldn't deny it.

He wished he could pull Bakugou out of that quiet storm.

He wished he could make him laugh the way Denki made Shinso giggle until his cheeks turned pink.

He wished he could coax more genuine smiles out of Bakugou, the kind that lit up his entire face like the one Sero always seemed to pull from Todoroki.

He wished—more than anything—that Bakugou looked at him the way those others looked at their partners: with warmth, with softness, with a kind of joy that made Kirishima's chest ache.

But instead, all he got was silence.

The scrape of a chair broke his thoughts. He looked up, startled.

Bakugou was standing.

"Where you going, Kat?" Kirishima asked, voice low, careful.

"The fucking bathroom," Bakugou muttered, not meeting his eyes as he stalked past him.

Kirishima watched him disappear down the hall, heart tightening as if pulled by invisible strings—like a rubber band stretched too far, ready to snap.

"Dude, are you okay?" Sero's voice came softly from across the table, his usual easy tone tempered with genuine concern.

Kirishima blinked, quickly forcing a smile. "Y-Yeah. I'm good."

"You sure?" Mina leaned forward, brows knitting. "You look... down."

There was a heavy pause before Kirishima exhaled shakily, shoulders slumping just a bit. "I'm sorry. I'm just... I'm having doubts."

The table quieted instantly, as if the air itself had thickened.

Denki blinked, voice small. "About what?"

Kirishima hesitated, eyes falling to the plate in front of him, untouched.

"I love Katsuki. Like, really love him... but sometimes, I feel like maybe I'm not enough. Maybe I'm not making him happy. Maybe I'm holding him back."

The silence grew heavier, the only sound the distant hum of chatter and clinking dishes.

"Why would you think that?" Mina asked softly, her voice gentle, without judgment.

Kirishima exhaled slowly, his knuckles white where they clenched around the edge of the table. His voice was raw, barely above a whisper but cracked open with emotion.

"Because when I look at you guys... I see couples who want to be together. Who enjoy being with each other. You laugh, you talk, you tease each other like it's second nature." He let out a shaky breath, unable to look anyone in the eye. "But lately, Katsuki doesn't even seem to want to be with me."

His voice trembled, and the room quieted like it was holding its breath.

"He just... sits there. Glaring at everything like it's done something to offend him. Barely talks unless he's yelling. And when it's just the two of us... it's fine, I guess. We train, we run, we do the same stuff we always do. But it's like we're going through the motions, y'know? And I just—"

The crack in his voice turned sharp, the words catching in his throat.

"I wish I could make him smile like you all do. I wish I could make him laugh. Hell, sometimes..." He finally looked down, fingers curling into fists in his lap. "Sometimes I wonder if I'm even enough for him."

A heavy silence fell over the group, the kind that clung to skin like humidity. No one rushed to fill it. No platitudes. No nervous laughter.

Just listening.

Then, from across the table, Todoroki's voice cut through—quiet but strong, like the calm right before a storm.

"Kirishima."

He looked up, startled by the sound of his name spoken with such calm certainty.

Todoroki's eyes met his, steady and clear, as if offering something he hadn't even known he needed.

"You shouldn't compare your relationship to ours," Todoroki said, each word chosen with care. "Every relationship is different. Yours isn't less than mine and Hanta's. Or Kaminari's and Shinso's. It's just... yours. Unique."

Kirishima blinked, the truth in those words hitting deeper than he expected. Like a soft hammer to the heart—gentle, but leaving cracks that let the light in.

"What matters is that you care about Bakugou. But you also deserve to know he cares about you too. Relationships can't be carried by one person. They're not supposed to feel like a battle you're fighting alone."

A beat.

Then Todoroki added, softly, "Hanta taught me that."

Sero, who had been quietly sipping his drink, nearly choked. His face went pink as all eyes swung his way.

"Aw, man," Denki teased with a grin. "Todoroki's out here quoting love wisdom like he's writing poetry on a mountaintop."

"I—what? I just said you don't have to do everything yourself!" Sero protested, flustered, hands flailing.

"And it stuck," Todoroki replied plainly, like it was the most obvious thing in the world.

Mina sniffled, wiping under one eye with her sleeve. "Okay but... that was so unexpectedly emotional. Like ugly cry levels of emotional."

"Respect," Shinso added, arms crossed but voice low and sincere.

Kirishima gave a watery chuckle, his chest tightening—but this time, in a way that felt oddly comforting. Like maybe, for the first time in a while, someone actually saw what he'd been carrying.

"Thanks, Todoroki. I needed to hear that."

Todoroki nodded, thoughtful. "And I do think Bakugou cares. He just... doesn't show it in the same ways. He's like a cat that bites you to show affection. It's... confusing, but not impossible."

"That's the most accurate description I've ever heard," Mina whispered, eyes wide.

Kirishima glanced down again, the ache in his chest dulling as warmth crept in. He wasn't fixed—but he felt a little less broken.

And then—scrape.

A chair dragged loudly against the tile floor, pulling everyone's attention.

Bakugou was back.

He held a soda in one hand and a plate of fries in the other, pausing as he caught the wave of silence and all the eyes staring at him like he'd just walked into his own intervention.

"...The hell are you all lookin' at?" he snapped, his voice low and defensive, scowl firmly in place. But there was a slight hesitation in his step, like even he wasn't sure if he'd just walked into a trap.

Sero leaned back in his seat, a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. "Nothing, man. Just... appreciating uniqueness."

Bakugou's gaze snapped to him, sharp and suspicious. "The fuck does that mean?"

"You figure it out," Sero muttered with a shrug, already reaching for his drink.

Bakugou's eyes narrowed further, jaw tightening—but before he could go on the offense, Kirishima moved.

Subtle. Gentle.

He didn't make a big gesture, didn't make a sound—just slid his arm around Bakugou's shoulder with practiced ease, his fingers curling warmly against the fabric of his hoodie.

Bakugou froze.

Only for a second—but for someone like him, even a second was monumental. His grip on the plate shifted. His eyes flicked downward to where Kirishima's hand rested on his shoulder, then up to Kirishima's face.

And then...

He didn't pull away.

Didn't curse. Didn't shove him off. He just stood there, quiet, eyes unreadable—but not angry. Not annoyed.

Something softer shimmered behind that rough exterior for the briefest of moments.

Finally, with a quiet, barely audible tsk, he lowered his plate onto the table and slid into the seat beside Kirishima. His ears were flushed red—bright against his ash-blond hair—and he stared at his fries like they were the most fascinating thing in existence.

He didn't say a word.

But he stayed.

Kirishima let out a slow breath, barely a smile tugging at his lips. It wasn't big. It wasn't showy. But it was real.

'He's trying, in his own stubborn, explosive, Katsuki way... he's trying.'

Then—

Denki practically launched to his feet like a firecracker.

"Okay, who's done?! Because I'm officially ready to sing my pain away with badly timed falsetto!"

Mina threw up her hands like she'd been waiting for the cue. "Yes! Karaoke time! Dibs on singing 'Hopeless Romantic' with Shinso!"

"Not if I unplug the mic first," Shinso muttered, but there was a slight curl to his lips.

Sero leaned slightly toward Todoroki, who was silently picking at a piece of his chicken sandwich with absolute concentration. "You ready, mi amor?"

Todoroki paused, he gave a slow nod. "Yes. But..."

Sero smirked, already reading him like a well-worn book. "...You want more wings."

Todoroki blinked once, then nodded again, expression so perfectly neutral it almost made it worse. "Correct."

"You're lucky you're cute," Sero sighed dramatically, pushing himself up with a long groan. "I'll get you more wings. But I swear, if you eat my leftover wings—"

"You just guaranteed I will, my love," Todoroki said smoothly, not looking up from his food.

Sero stumbled over his own laughter on the way to the counter, muttering something that sounded like, "You menace," but with way too much fondness.

Todoroki leaned back in his seat, peaceful in a way that was rare for him in public. His hands folded in his lap. His expression serene.

Then he noticed the four grinning faces watching him.

"...What?" he asked, utterly confused.

Silence.

Laughter exploded from the table like a dam breaking. Not mocking. Not cruel. Just warm, ridiculous, affectionate chaos.

Denki and Kirishima wheezed. Mina wiped tears from her eyes. Even Shinso let out a soft chuckle, head bowed slightly.

Todoroki looked at them all, blinking again. He tilted his head faintly, expression thoughtful.

"...Was it the wings?"

Cue more laughter.

Kirishima watched the scene unfold through a haze of quiet joy, his eyes drifting back to the boy sitting beside him. Bakugou was staring straight ahead, jaw tight—but not from anger. His expression was more complicated than that. Like he wasn't sure how to exist in this kind of space. Like he'd forgotten how to relax.

But he wasn't leaving.

And when Kirishima leaned just a little closer, his shoulder brushing Bakugou's, the blond didn't move away. He didn't even flinch. Just muttered something under his breath—something that might've been "shitty extras"—and shoved another fry into his mouth like it owed him money.

Kirishima's smile grew a little wider, a little braver.
Not fixed.
Not perfect.
But real.

Yeah.
Maybe we aren't perfect.
But maybe... just maybe... we're still worth it.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"AND I WILL ALWAYS LOVE YOU!"

Denki and Mina howled the final chorus like it was the championship round of My Heart's Got Talent, voices cracking gloriously off-key in a symphony of beautiful disaster. Arms flailed overhead in uncoordinated drama; Mina even dropped to one knee, as if proposing a passionate vow to the ceiling above.

Denki pointed at random friends scattered around the room like they were the loves of his life, eyes wide and sparkling with pure, unfiltered joy. Their karaoke mics screeched in protest, feedback bouncing off the walls—but that only fueled their wild abandon.

Sero and Kirishima, on the other hand, were utterly lost in hysterics, slumped against each other on the couch like survivors of an epic ordeal. Kirishima's laughter broke free in a sudden snort that sent a spray of soda up his nose, causing him to cough and nearly choke, tears streaming down his flushed face. Sero dabbed furiously at his eyes with the back of his hand, breathless from laughter but utterly unable to stop.

"Make it stop," Kirishima wheezed between claps. "Oh man, my ribs... I think I'm dying."

Across the room, Shinso lounged like the king of dry sarcasm, arms folded and giving the chaos the driest, most unimpressed stare known to mankind.

But no one could hide the faint, almost imperceptible smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth—or the subtle blush crawling up his neck when Denki caught his eye and shot him a cheeky finger heart mid-scream. Shinso tried so hard not to look affected, but Denki's infuriating charm was working its magic nonetheless.

Meanwhile, Todoroki remained the stoic observer, the calm eye of the storm. He cradled a cold canned tea to his cheek with the serene composure of a retired emperor witnessing a circus. His half-lidded eyes shimmered with quiet amusement, lips twitching just enough to betray a fondness for the madness surrounding him even if he feels slightly overstimulated.

Bakugou, by contrast, looked like he was plotting arson. His foot tapped out a furious rhythm against the floor tiles—one that had absolutely nothing to do with the music's beat—and his arms were crossed so tightly his biceps looked ready to burst through his sleeves. The vein on his forehead throbbed in time with his brewing rage, an unmistakable sign he was close to losing his temper.

"THANK YOU!" Mina shouted as the last notes of the song faded, throwing her arms into the air like she'd just been handed an Oscar.

"This one goes out to all my adoring fans," Denki added with a dazzling wink, pointed directly and shamelessly at Shinso.

Shinso rolled his eyes but the blush on his cheeks deepened. "You don't have fans," he deadpanned.

"I do now," Denki shot back, flopping onto the seat beside him with enough theatrical flair to almost knock over a half-empty cup of soda. "Besides, you loved that. Don't lie. Your soul totally left your body and soared."

"I think my soul died," Shinso muttered, but he didn't pull away when Denki leaned his head lazily against his shoulder.

Mina bounced on her toes, clutching her mic like a royal scepter. "Okay, okay, who's next? We're not stopping now! Chaos is the theme, people!"

Sero cracked his neck, standing like a champion about to step into the ring. "I got this."

"Oh nooo," Denki groaned, dramatically sinking back into the couch as if Sero's performance was a form of cruel punishment. "Someone stop him before he unleashes the forbidden notes."

"Shut it, Pikachu," Sero grinned, flipping him the bird as he strutted confidently toward the mic stand like it owed him money.

"Go off, king!" Mina cheered, twirling her mic with all the pomp of a drum major.

Kirishima whistled loudly. "Give us those dulcet tones! Make us feel things!"

"Make our ears bleed!" Denki added helpfully, grinning like a man who knew this was going to be hilarious.

Sero waved them off, eyes scanning the glowing karaoke screen with the practiced confidence of someone who absolutely had a meticulously curated playlist in his notes app. The screen's colorful light danced over his face, igniting the mischievous gleam in his eyes.

Nearby, Kirishima leaned toward Todoroki, elbowing him gently. "Be real—can he actually sing? Like, are we about to be blessed... or cursed?"

Todoroki blinked slowly, calm and contemplative. "I think he can. He hums beautifully."

Denki gasped. "Humming doesn't count! I hum all the time! We're talking power vocals here. Whitney Houston. Adele. Beyoncé-level belting!"

Todoroki tilted his head, sipping his tea with perfect composure. "I like his voice. It's warm."

Mina squealed. "Awww~ You're such a softie, Shotobaby! You're gonna make him melt!"

Bakugou gagged audibly from his corner, but no one paid him any mind.

Then, with a dramatic spin and mic in hand, Sero struck a pose so outrageously over-the-top it could've been ripped from a concert poster. He grinned, the karaoke machine's multicolored LEDs spotlighting him like a true star.

"Okay, mis amigos," he announced in a swoon-worthy voice, placing a hand theatrically over his heart. "This next one's close to my soul. It always reminds me of a certain red-and-white-haired heartthrob... also known as my charming, freezing-hot boyfriend~"

The room erupted instantly.

A collective Oooooooooh~ bounced off the walls—half teasing, half absolutely delighted. Denki let out a breathless gasp, grabbing Mina's arm like he'd just witnessed the plot twist of the century. Kirishima's grin widened, lighting up his entire face like a kid told he's getting the best birthday present ever.

Todoroki froze.

His face went bright red, the flush crawling up his cheeks and over the tips of his ears like someone had turned the thermostat to emotional overload. He turned toward the wall with the same intensity he used when planning battle strategies—focused, overwhelmed, hiding the barely-contained smile threatening to break through.

Sero, unfazed and fully owning the moment, winked and shot a finger gun at Todoroki with zero shame.

Then, with a confident flourish, he hit play.

The screen burst to life, glowing with the title: "Hero" by Enrique Iglesias.

"Oh my godddd," Mina whispered, clutching Denki's arm like they were watching the climax of the most dramatic telenovela ever made. Her eyes were wide, sparkling with a mix of excitement and disbelief.

Sero inhaled deeply, his chest rising like he was about to leap into the abyss. The soft instrumental intro began, filling the room with gentle, stirring notes that felt almost like a warm breeze.

Suddenly, everything shifted.

The usual chatter, the nervous laughter, the restless shifting in seats—all of it quieted like a spell had been cast. Even Bakugou, who had been mid-eye-roll just moments before, paused and blinked in surprise as Sero's voice rose softly.

It wasn't loud. It wasn't flashy or showy.

It was gentle.

"Would you dance... if I asked you to dance..."

Sero's voice was raw, honest, carrying a quiet strength beneath the softness.

Every word he sang felt like a small, private confession whispered into the air. There was no irony, no hint of sarcasm—only sincerity and warmth that wrapped around the room like a comforting embrace.

"Would you run and never look back...
Would you cry if you saw me cryin'?
And would you save my soul... tonight?"

The entire room was still.

Denki, mouth slightly open, who was usually quick with a joke, just mouthed a silent whoa in awe.

Even Bakugou stopped mid-sip of his drink, lowering his cup slowly, brows lifting.

"Would you tremble... if I touched your lips..."

Todoroki, still flushed from the earlier teasing, slowly turned his head toward Sero. His wide, shimmering mismatched eyes locked onto the singer's with an intensity that made the moment feel suspended in time.

And for once, he didn't look away.

Something new was there, something raw and unguarded—like a crack in the usual stoic armor. His lips parted, as if to speak, but no words came. Instead, he drew a shaky breath, caught somewhere between surprise and something far softer.

Sero was singing to him.

Not the room. Not the friends, the flashing lights, or the kitschy karaoke machine.

Just him.

"Would you laugh... oh please tell me this...
Now would you die... for the one you loved?
Hold me in your arms tonight..."

By the time the chorus hit, Kirishima and Denki were swaying with wild abandon, throwing in dramatic flourishes like over-enthusiastic backup dancers. Kirishima's eyes shone with pride, as if Sero was the star of his own personal concert.

"I can be your hero, baby..."

Mina squealed quietly, hands clasped beneath her chin like a proud aunt witnessing a first recital.

"I can kiss away the pain...
I will stand by you forever...
You can take my very breath away..."

Still, Sero's eyes never left Todoroki. His gaze was like a lighthouse beacon in the dim karaoke room, steady and unwavering.

Each lyric hung in the air like a delicate love letter, aching and sincere. Sero didn't need perfect pitch or show-stopping power. He only needed honesty, and in that moment, he had it in spades.

By the final note, the entire room had melted into a puddle of emotional goo, hearts collectively squeezed by the warmth radiating from the two boys.

"You can take... my breath away...
I can be your hero~"

The song ended to a thunderous eruption of applause, cheers, and whistles.

"OH YEAH SERO!" Kirishima bellowed, standing and pumping a fist in the air.

"That was so sweet!" Mina cried, dabbing at her eyes with the back of her hand. "I swear, I just watched someone propose and I loved it!"

"Super manly, dude!" Kirishima added, punching the air again as Denki did a dramatic slow clap.

Sero gave a playful bow, a triumphant grin lighting up his face. Then, cool as ever, he sauntered back to his seat next to a still quiet Todoroki. Their knees brushed softly as he sat.

"How did you like it, mi amor?" Sero murmured, voice low and teasing.

Todoroki's gaze flickered to Sero's warm chocolate eyes—the ones that made him feel steadier than anything else. The ones that felt like he was truly safe. His cheeks were still tinged with rose, but the nervous edge had softened into something deeper, glowing with quiet affection.

He didn't say a word.

Instead, he leaned forward and pressed a gentle, deliberate kiss to Sero's lips.

Sero's eyes widened in surprise for a fraction of a second—then melted completely. His hand rose to cradle Todoroki's cheek, fingers warm and tender as the kiss deepened, slow and unhurried.

Behind them, the room exploded into cheers.

"OH YEAH!"

"LET'S GOOO!"

"SO CUTE," Mina squealed, fanning herself dramatically.

Kirishima tackled Denki in a joyful bear hug.

Shinso snorted with a smirk. "Gross."

Bakugou groaned loudly from his corner, crossing his arms like the world had officially lost its mind. "Fucking horny losers."

The couple finally pulled apart, laughing softly, breath hitching with the sweetness of the moment. Sero brushed his thumb lightly along Todoroki's jaw.

"I love you, Hanta," Todoroki whispered, voice barely more than a breath, as if saying it aloud still made him nervous.

Sero's grin was all teeth and light. "I love you too, mi amor."

Todoroki smiled—really smiled—and wrapped his arms around Sero's neck in a tight, wordless embrace.

Sero hugged him back, burying his face in Todoroki's shoulder, content to simply breathe him in.

Over their heads, their friends were making exaggerated kissy faces and blowing air kisses.

"Get a room!" Denki shouted shamelessly.

Sero stuck his tongue out at the crowd. "Shut up."

But the flush on both their ears said it all.

Neither of them stopped smiling.

And for once, in that messy, chaotic karaoke room, everything felt perfectly, beautifully right.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Oh come on! The night is still young~" Denki whined, his fingers tightening around Shinso's arm as if clinging to him might somehow tether Denki to the moment—the laughter, the warmth, the electric pulse of energy vibrating through the night air. His eyes gleamed with a desperate spark, refusing to accept the evening's slow winding down.

Shinso offered a half-smile, tired yet amused beneath his thick, dark lashes. His grip on Denki's hand was gentle but steady, grounding. "Dude, it's already 10:30."

Up ahead, Sero and Todoroki walked side by side, fingers intertwined. Sero glanced back with a soft sigh, the faintest crease forming between his brows. "And the bus back to the dorms takes about twenty-five minutes. We're cutting it close."

Kirishima, stepping in beside them, gave a sympathetic shake of his head. "Yeah, man. We gotta start wrapping this up. Big night tomorrow, remember?"

Denki's lower lip jutted out in exaggerated disappointment, his shoulders slumping dramatically. Shinso caught the look and chuckled softly, a low, warm sound. "What could you possibly want to do this late at night anyway?"

Denki's eyes sparkled with mischievous defiance, refusing to let go. "I don't know... maybe hit that club~"

A united and immediate "No." rose from Sero and Kirishima like a brick wall crashing down.

"Ughhh, so lame!" Denki groaned, dropping his shoulders like he'd been physically deflated.

Mina, the ever-bright spark of the group, giggled, then her eyes lit up with a new idea. "Hey! We should have a sleepover! Like a giant one! All of us!"

Denki's eyes grew wide, shining like stars in the dim streetlight. "That's so cool! I'm down! What about you guys?"

Sero hummed thoughtfully, squeezing Todoroki's hand gently. "I'm game. How about you, mi amor?"

Todoroki's reply was quiet but resolute, voice laced with exhaustion. "I'm going to sleep. I'm kinda tired."

Sero's grin softened, teasing. "Ah, mi amor, we drained you already~"

"Yes," Todoroki deadpanned, and the group burst into laughter at the brutal honesty.

Kirishima's gaze drifted over to Bakugou, who sat a little apart from the group. Arms crossed tight, jaw clenched, expression closed off—like a fortress nobody was allowed to breach.

"Hey, Kat," Kirishima ventured carefully, voice gentle, trying to soften the distance. "You wanna join us?"

Bakugou made a sharp tsk, shaking his head. "No thanks."

Kirishima sighed quietly, the familiar weight of worry settling on his chest. Denki frowned but quickly turned to Shinso instead, brightening as he shifted gears. "Would you like to come? We can play Minecraft or something chill."

Shinso hummed thoughtfully, but Denki's pleading puppy eyes were impossible to resist. "Please?"

Shinso blinked, cheeks coloring faintly under Denki's earnest gaze. "Fine..."

"Yay!" Denki cheered, throwing himself into Shinso's arms. Shinso caught him easily, holding him close with calm steadiness.

Kirishima watched the exchange, a soft sigh escaping him as he turned back toward Bakugou's scowl, fixed hard on the ground as the group moved forward.

Kirishima swallowed hard and tried once more, voice low and careful, "So, Kat... did you have fun?"

Bakugou's eyes flicked up briefly—cold, guarded, unreadable—before he looked away. "No."

The single word landed on Kirishima like a slap to the chest.

"How come?" he asked quietly, heart sinking.

Bakugou stayed silent, his foot impatiently kicking at a stray pebble with sharp, frustrated movements. The tight curl of his lips and the hard edge in his eyes spoke volumes more than words ever could.

Kirishima's shoulders slumped, the weight in his chest pressing down harder with every passing second. The laughter and chatter around them felt distant, like they were happening through a thick fog, a soft glow of warmth just out of reach. That lightness—so familiar, so natural with this group—now felt like a cruel reminder of the cold space between him and Bakugou.

His mind spun in a whirlpool of doubt and worry, each thought sharper than the last. Did I do something wrong? Was I not enough? The questions echoed in the silence he kept locked inside. He forced a small smile, a fragile mask to hide the ache that tightened his throat. But the sting of Bakugou's silent withdrawal cut deep, and Kirishima could almost feel the distance grow with every step they took.

"Oh my gosh, that whole solo with you, Sero, was so cute! I'm seriously jealous!" Mina's excited squeal shattered the heavy quiet, a sudden burst of color in the gray tension.

Sero's confident smirk spread easily. "You all doubted me, but what can I say? I'm the man with vocals—and love~"

Denki and Shinso exchanged a mock gag, exaggerated for effect, while Todoroki raised an eyebrow, his expression skeptical but amused. "Really, Hanta?"

"What!?" Sero feigned offense, laughter rippling through the group like a wave trying to break the stillness.

But Kirishima stayed quiet, lost deep in his own thoughts. Mina caught his distant gaze and tilted her head, concern flickering in her bright eyes. "You good, Kiri?"

He swallowed hard, forcing the words out. "Y-Yeah, sorry... karaoke was super fun." But his voice lacked its usual brightness.

Mina frowned, her bright energy dimming. She didn't push—it didn't feel like the moment. But Denki's eyes had already drifted toward the outlier in the group, the only one not laughing, not smiling, not even pretending.

Bakugou sat at the edge of the sidewalk, arms crossed like a barricade, eyes narrowed and distant beneath his ash-blonde bangs. He looked like a thunderstorm crouched in human form—too still, too tense, too close to breaking.

"Hey, Bakubro," Denki called, injecting cheer into his voice like it might melt the tension, "did you have fun?"

Bakugou's head turned just enough to lock eyes with him—and the glare that followed was like shrapnel. "No," he growled, sharp and venom-laced, "I fucking didn't."

The air froze. Even the night seemed to pause.

Mina hesitated before taking a careful step closer. "Why?" she asked gently, her voice softened now, as if trying not to spook a wild animal. "Did something happen?"

Bakugou scoffed, bitter and cold. "Y'all are too damn loud."

"It's karaoke," Sero said with a tight smile, his voice laced with forced levity. "It's supposed to be loud, man."

"I wasn't talking about the fucking karaoke, TapeFace!"

Shinso was on his feet in an instant, stepping in between them with practiced calm. "Okay. Let's all chill out—"

But Denki had already squared his shoulders. "Why did you even come if you were just gonna sulk in a corner and hate everything?"

Bakugou's eyes burned. "Why the fuck are you still talking to me?!"

Mina stepped forward quickly, tone firm, brighter than before but carrying an unmistakable weight. "No. We're not doing this. Not again. You've been on edge all night, Bakugou, and you've been wrecking the vibe since we got here."

Sero nodded, no trace of humor left in his voice. "Yeah, man. Seriously. You're bringing everyone down."

Bakugou's mouth twisted, eyes flashing. But beneath the anger, there was something else—something smaller. Flickering. Barely there. "I don't have to explain myself to a bunch of pathetic, fake-ass extras!"

Sero stepped forward, hands clenched at his sides. "No one's asking you to explain, man. But we've been trying. You keep pushing everyone away and acting like we're the problem."

Todoroki's voice cut in quietly, deadly calm. "Bakugou, are you okay?"

"I don't want to hear another word from your stupid mouth, you Icyhot bastard!"

Todoroki blinked slowly, the shift in his expression subtle but final. "You're being rude."

"You're being a dumbass."

The air snapped like a live wire.

"What the fuck is wrong with you?" Sero hissed, stepping fully into Bakugou's space now, no longer trying to keep the peace. "You think blowing up on people is gonna fix whatever this is?"

"You assholes don't get it!" Bakugou shouted, his voice cracking with something too painful to name. "You all act like you've got it together! But you're just a bunch of clueless dumbasses pretending everything's fine!"

Denki lifted his hands, the shock plain on his face. "Okay, seriously—chill the hell out!"

"I'm sick of pretending!" Bakugou's voice broke again, like a dam shattering behind his teeth. "You come back here acting like everything's normal and cool, but no one forgot the fucked-up shit you said—just because you think no one noticed doesn't mean I didn't!"

The group stilled. Denki opened his mouth to speak, eyes wide with guilt or confusion—

"What the fuck is your problem?" Shinso snapped, no longer calm, stepping forward with a bite to his voice.

But Kirishima was already moving, slipping in front of Bakugou like a human barrier, his voice tight with concern. "Bakugou, what's going on—"

"And you!" Bakugou turned on him like a whip crack. "You wanted to ditch me for a fucking week!"

Kirishima froze, blood draining from his face. "Wha—?"

Bakugou's voice shook now, but he pushed through it, the hurt bleeding into every syllable. "Yeah, I fucking heard. I'm not deaf. You want a break? Fine. Sorry I'm too much for you and your dumbass friends."

The silence that followed was not just quiet. It was devastating.

His breath heaved. His fists trembled. And without waiting for anyone to speak—without letting himself crumble in front of them—Bakugou turned sharply and stormed off into the night.

His footsteps were fast, almost frantic, echoing against the pavement like thunder swallowed by the dark. He didn't look back. He didn't slow down. He just left.

For a long moment, no one moved. The weight of what had just happened settled over them like thick smoke.

"...That did not go well," Denki finally muttered, the words flat and stunned.

All eyes turned toward him—some wide, some narrowed, some simply blinking in disbelief.

He held up his hands defensively, cheeks flushing, voice weak. "What? I mean—he started it."

But no one laughed. The tension lingered like the aftershock of a quake, and in the silence that followed, it was clear:

Something had broken.

And they weren't sure how—or if—it could be put back together.