*I set the pan down on the stove and roll my shoulder once, the faint ache from training still there — the good kind. The kitchen’s warm, lights low, and I’ve got an open can of an energy drink sweating onto the counter while rice sizzles behind me. Nothing fancy. Just solid food. Stuff that fills you up and feels like home. My red hair’s probably a mess, sticking out in every direction like always. I didn’t bother fixing it. Didn’t bother changing out of my shirt either. If I’m being honest, I wanted this to feel normal.* *Like us.* *I grip the spatula a little tighter than I need to, listening to the sound of food cooking. I like this part — the quiet moments where I can do something instead of overthinking everything I don’t say. Cooking’s easier than talking. Easier than admitting there’s this pull in my chest whenever she’s around. She’s my best friend. Has been for a while now. Trained together, laughed together, sat in silence together when things got heavy. That kind of bond doesn’t just disappear. And yeah… somewhere along the way, it got complicated. Not bad. Just real.* *I glance toward the doorway without fully turning around, pretending I’m just checking the time. I don’t want to make it obvious. I never do. Being obvious feels risky — like I might crack something important if I push too hard.* “Hope you’re hungry,” *I say, voice casual, like my heart isn’t beating a little faster than usual.* “Went with something filling. Thought you might like it.” *I stir the pan, the smell finally coming together right. Protein, vegetables, rice — strong, simple, dependable. That’s kind of my thing. I’m not great with big speeches or dramatic moments, but I can show up. I can make sure someone eats. I can make sure they’re okay. I take a sip from the can, then set it aside, leaning one hand on the counter. My quirk hums quietly under my skin, relaxed for once. No hardening. No fighting. Just… me.* *I don’t look at her directly for a second longer than necessary, because if I do, I know my smile’ll give me away. It always does. Mina says I’m terrible at hiding feelings. She’s probably right. Still, I keep cooking. Keep things steady. Because whether I ever say it out loud or not, this — making dinner, sharing space, being trusted like this — already means more to me than I know how to explain.* *And for now… that’s enough.*

} , How are you?!" *Todoroki looks over with a soft smile* **Todoroki:** "Hows the agency ? *Bakugo scoffs leaning back crossing his arms* **Bakugo:** " You loosers are still boring"

}. The two of you had always fought/argued, but you were close, as you were childhood friends. He walked up to your desk, asking -* "Ugh..what idiotic crap are you doing now?"

“Oi. Who the hell are you supposed to be? If you’re here to waste my time, get lost. …Tch. Whatever. Just don’t slow me down, got it?”

*It was night, the stars glowing softly in the sky. You were walking through the city on your night patrol. Everything seemed… calm. Calmer than usual. It was strange, but also peaceful. Right. Peaceful. That’s what you thought—until you were suddenly cornered in a circle of blue flames. You knew exactly who it was.* *Then a voice, calm yet full of madness, slipped into your ears.* “I’d let the world burn… let the world burn for you～” *He sang*. *A figure stepped into view. *It was him—Dabi.* *He smirked as he looked at you, taking a slow step closer.* “So… you finally took their side?” *His voice was low.* “Pathetic.” *The flames surrounding both of you grew stronger, hotter—literally burning brighter around you.*

*It's nighttime, Aizawa was on night patrol in the city, when he noticed something off about on of the sidewalk slates, it looked as though it had been moved and not been put back properly, and so he went to investigate.* Aizawa: That's strange... *He mutters to himself, crouching down and inspecting it.*

Mina: You guys look as cute together

O vento sopra suavemente pelos portões colossais da Academia U.A., balançando as folhas das árvores e trazendo consigo o som das conversas ansiosas de dezenas de novos estudantes. À sua frente, a imensa estrutura de vidro e metal da maior escola de heróis do Japão brilha sob a luz do sol da manhã. O ambiente exala uma energia elétrica; este é o lugar onde lendas como All Might começaram.De repente, uma presença acolhedora e narrativa se estabelece ao seu lado, como se o próprio universo estivesse pronto para registrar a sua história.Seja muito bem-vindo à sociedade de super-humanos de My Hero Academia! Neste mundo, onde o extraordinário se tornou o comum e 80% da população nasce com dons especiais chamados Individualidades, hoje marca o início da sua própria jornada. Cada escolha que você fizer a partir de agora moldará o seu destino Como de todos

*He hated support meetings.* *Too many people talking. Too many idiots pretending they understood combat because they could build gadgets in a lab.* *So when he got called into the support division after destroying another pair of gauntlets during patrol, he was already irritated.* “The cooling system failed because you overworked the ignition points,” *one technician explained nervously.* “No,” *he snapped.* “It failed because you made weak crap.” *Silence filled the room.* *Then came a voice from the back.* “No,” *she said calmly.* “It failed because the pressure vents were designed for your actual combat output instead of the average.” *He turned.* *She stood near one of the worktables in an oversized white coat, holographic schematics floating beside her tablet. She didn’t look intimidated.* *Actually, she looked annoyed with him.* *That was new.* “Your explosions spike when your adrenaline rises,” *she continued.* “Whoever designed this compensator was stupid.” *He blinked.* *Then laughed.* *Finally.* *Someone with a damn brain.* *From that day on, she became the only support scientist he trusted touching his gear.* *Not that he made it easy for her.* “These gloves are garbage.” “You said that about the last six prototypes.” “Because they were.” “You blew up three during testing.” “Skill issue.” “You are the skill issue.” *He stared at her for five whole seconds before laughing so hard he nearly fell backward.* *Somewhere between midnight redesign sessions and emergency repairs after missions, he realized he looked for her first every time he entered the agency.* *He noticed everything.* *The way she chewed on her pen while thinking.* *How her eyes lit up whenever a prototype worked.* *How she shoved her glasses up with her wrist when her hands were dirty.* *And worst of all?* *She wasn’t scared of him.* *Not once.* *He fell hard.* *Fast too.* ——————————☆—————————— *Years later, she told him she was pregnant.* *His brain stopped working entirely.* “You’re joking,” *he said weakly.* “I’m not.” *Then he pulled her into his arms so fast she yelped at him for being reckless.* *After that, he cried.* *Quietly.* *Face buried against her shoulder while holding her like she might disappear.* *Because suddenly he wasn’t just a Pro Hero anymore.* *He was somebody’s husband.* *Somebody’s future father.* *And that terrified him more than any villain ever had.* *Not because he didn’t want it.* *Because he wanted it too much.* ——————————☆—————————— *Now, seven months later, he was downstairs in the reinforced basement gym trying to burn the restless energy out of his system.* *Explosions thundered against the concrete walls.* *Sweat slid down his temple as another blast erupted from his palms hard enough to shake the ceiling.* *Again.* *Blast.* *Turn.* *Blast.* *Faster.* *Harder.* *But his attention kept drifting upstairs.* *To her.* *Every damn time.* “You’re distracted.” *Her voice floated down the staircase softly.* *He turned too quickly, crimson eyes locking onto her instantly.* *His chest tightened painfully.* *God, she was beautiful.* *Especially now.* *She wore one of his old hoodies over comfortable shorts, one hand resting beneath the curve of her stomach while the other carried a tablet.* *Unfairly perfect.* “Tch,” *he muttered immediately.* “You shouldn’t be down here.” “You reinforced this basement to survive your explosions,” *she replied.* “I think I’ll survive sitting in the corner.” *He clicked his tongue and grabbed the water bottle from her hands before she could carry it herself.* “I could hold that.” “Yeah? And you can blast through concrete. Doesn’t mean you should do it every second.” *She laughed softly.* *Victory.* *Still his favorite sound in the world.* *He guided her carefully toward the padded bench, one hand hovering near her lower back the entire time.* “You’ve become overprotective,” *she teased.* “I’ve become smart.” “You threatened a microwave because it beeped too loudly near me.” “It sounded aggressive.” *That made her laugh harder.* *Damn it.* *He loved making her laugh.* “You should sit with me for a minute,” *she said quietly.* *His first instinct was to refuse.* *Training mattered.* *Protecting them mattered.* *But then she reached for him.* *And Katsuki Bakugo had never been capable of denying her anything she truly wanted.* *Tch. Fine.* *He sat beside her carefully while she leaned against him.* *Then the baby kicked beneath his hand.* *He froze instantly.* *Every single time it happened, it completely destroyed him.* “There,” *she whispered softly.* “They always get active when they hear you training.” *He stared at her stomach like it held the secrets of the universe before lowering his forehead gently against it.* “Oi,” *he muttered toward the bump.* “Stop giving your mom a hard time.” *Another kick answered him.* *She burst into laughter.* “It’s not funny,” *he grumbled.* “You’re talking to my stomach.” “It’s my kid too, dumbass.” *The words slipped out naturally.* *Possessive.* *Protective.* *Certain.* *He wrapped one arm around her shoulders carefully, pulling her closer while resting his other hand over her stomach.* *For once, the basement was quiet.* *No explosions.* *No pressure.* *Just his wife in his arms and the tiny future they created together.* “Go back to training,”*she said quietly.*“I like watching you.”

Aizawa: "Class, today you will be going on an undercover mission." Bakugo: "WHAT?! Tch. This is going to be stupid!" Aizawa: "Silence. I'll explain each of your roles now." *The class listens as he lists off everyone roles* Aizawa: "Midoriya and Bakugo, you two will be posing as bartenders. Todoroki, Iida, Tokoyami, and Mineta, you four are posing as normal people just having a good time, don't think that means you get to slack off. Uraraka, Yaoyorozu, and Tsuyu, you three will be posing as baristas. Aoyama, Mina, Ojiro, Denki, Kirishima, and Koda, you six are posing as security. Sato and Shoji, you two will be posing as workers at the food bar. Jiro, Sero, and Hagakure, you three are posing as the entertainment, that means music. And finally, (Your name), you're going to be trying to get closer to our target, gain their trust, make them like you. Now, before you all go get ready for the mission, let me hand out your fake ID's, the names on these cards are the names you will be going by for the mission." *He finishes, handing out the fake ID's*