The night patrol had started like any other.
Y/N and Bakugo moved through the alleyways of downtown Musutafu, their boots echoing against the pavement, the air thick with humidity and the scent of distant rain. The city was quiet, too quiet — the kind of silence that made your skin crawl.
Bakugo walked ahead, eyes sharp, palms crackling faintly with heat. Y/N followed, pulse steady, senses tuned to every shadow.
She didn't speak.
She didn't need to.
Their rhythm was instinctive now — a silent language built from months of training, stolen glances, and nights spent tangled in whispered confessions. But tonight, something felt off.
Y/N felt it first.
A flicker of movement on the rooftop.
Then the ambush hit.
Three villains dropped from above, quirks flaring. One launched a barrage of smoke bombs, filling the alley with choking haze. Another manipulated sound, distorting their voices and disorienting their senses. The third — a gravity manipulator — went straight for Y/N.
She was slammed against the wall, breath knocked out, ribs aching.
Bakugo saw red.
He tore through the attacker, explosions lighting up the alley in bursts of fury. "Don't touch her you ugly bastard!" he roared, voice raw, eyes blazing.
Y/N staggered to their feet, heart pounding. "I'm fine," She gasped.
Bakugo didn't hear.
Or maybe he didn't care.
He was already on the second villain, blasting through the smoke, his rage a living thing.
Midoriya arrived seconds later, eyes wide. "Bakugo—what was that?"
Bakugo didn't answer.
Y/N stepped in, voice steady. "He was protecting a teammate."
Midoriya's gaze lingered. "Right."
But the way he looked at them — the way his eyes narrowed, calculating — said he didn't believe it.
—
Back at U.A., the med bay was quiet.
Y/N sat on the edge of the cot, fingers curled around a cup of water, ribs wrapped in gauze. Bakugo stood beside them, arms crossed, jaw tight.
"You okay?" he asked.
Y/N nodded. "You?"
He didn't answer.
Just reached for her hand.
Midoriya watched from the doorway.
And the static between them was no longer subtle.
It was screaming.
—
The next morning, the tension was unbearable.
Whispers followed Y/N through the halls. Mina gave them a knowing look. Kirishima raised an eyebrow. Even Todoroki, usually unreadable, seemed to be watching them more closely.
During combat class, Aizawa paired Bakugo and Y/N again.
"Let's see if you've learned to control your emotions," he said, gaze pointed.
Bakugo bristled. "I'm fine."
Y/N swallowed. "We're ready."
The match began.
They moved like fire and thunder — explosive, precise, devastating. But the tension between them was no longer just chemistry. It was history. It was memory. It was everything they'd been hiding.
Then Bakugo slipped.
Just for a second.
Y/N caught him — not with a move, but with a hand to his chest, a whisper of his name, a look that said I've got you.
And the class saw it.
All of it.
The way Bakugo looked back at Y/N — not with annoyance, not with rivalry, but with something softer. Something real.
The match ended.
Silence fell.
Aizawa stepped forward. "Anything you two want to share?"
Bakugo's jaw clenched.
Y/N's heart pounded.
Then Bakugo turned to the class, eyes blazing. "We're together."
Gasps echoed.
Mina squealed.
Kirishima blinked. "Wait—like, dating?"
Bakugo nodded. "Yes."
Y/N stepped beside him. "It's been a while."
Aizawa sighed. "I suspected. You've been sloppy."
Bakugo bristled. "We've been careful."
"Not careful enough," Aizawa said. "But I'm not here to police your feelings. Just your performance."
Kaminari stepped forward. "Why didn't you tell us?"
Y/N looked at him. "We didn't want it to change things."
"It already has," he said quietly.
—
Later, in the dorm lounge, the reactions were mixed.
Mina was ecstatic. "I knew it! I knew it! You two are like magnets!"
Kirishima clapped Bakugo on the back. "Honestly? Good for you, man."
Todoroki said nothing.
Jirou raised an eyebrow. "So... how long?"
Y/N smiled. "Since the villain trap."
Mina gasped. "The pressure chamber? That's so romantic!"
Bakugo groaned. "It was a nightmare."
Y/N laughed. "It was the beginning."
—
That night, Y/N sat on the rooftop, legs dangling over the edge, the city lights twinkling below. Bakugo joined her, silent as ever, his presence grounding.
"You okay?" he asked.
Y/N nodded. "Relieved."
He sat beside them. "I hated hiding."
"I hated pretending."
Bakugo reached for her hand. "We're not pretending anymore."
Y/N leaned into him, head resting on his shoulder.
And for the first time, the silence felt like freedom