She saw him in the hallway.
That was all it was supposed to be. Seeing someone. It happens every day—people pass each other, notice each other, forget each other. It shouldn't have meant anything.
But it did.
The graduation ceremony had just ended. She wasn't supposed to care about that. First year student. Freshman. The seniors leaving didn't affect her, not really. Except the building felt different now. Empty in a way that had nothing to do with space. Like something that had been holding the place together was gone.
She'd cut through the main corridor because her dorm was on the east side and the crowd near the front entrance was too much. Too many people crying and hugging and taking pictures like, they'd never see each other again. Like phones didn't exist. Like they wouldn't all end up working in the same city anyway.
She wasn't paying attention to where she was going.
And then she was.
Katsuki Bakugo.
Great Explosion Murder God Dynamight.
Standing there. Just a few feet ahead. Talking to Kirishima—Red Riot—the one with the shark teeth and the smile that made everything feel manageable even when it wasn't. They were near the broken water fountain. The one that hadn't worked since orientation week. Bakugo had his hands in his pockets. No hero costume. Just a black shirt. Jeans.
He looked normal.
He didn't look normal at all.
She'd seen him a thousand times. More than that. She'd watched the footage from the War—the final one, the real one, the one they didn't show in schools because it was too brutal or too raw or whatever excuse they used. She'd watched it on repeat. She had his poster on her wall. The shirtless one from the magazine spread after he turned eighteen. The one where he stared at the camera like he could see right through whoever was looking and found them pathetic.
She loved him.
It sounded insane. She knew that. Celebrity crush. Parasocial. Delusional. Whatever word people used now to make girls feel stupid for wanting anything.
But she did. She loved him. Had loved him since she was fourteen and saw him at the sports Festival, screaming into the sky with his hands crackling, refusing to accept a victory he didn't earn. She loved him when he saved that kid during Jaku even though he was bleeding everywhere. She loved him when he cried on national television and somehow no one mocked him for it because even the worst people understood what it meant.
She loved him.
And he was right there.
She should say something. Congratulations. Good luck. Thank you for—for saving the world, for being the reason she wanted to be a hero in the first place, for existing.
Anything.
She didn't.
Her body locked up. Like her quirk had misfired even though that wasn't how it worked. Her mouth might have opened. She wasn't sure. Maybe she just thought about opening it.
He walked past her.
Kirishima was saying something about a restaurant. Bakugo responded—she didn't catch what. His voice was lower than it sounded in interviews. Rougher. Like he'd been shouting for hours.
He didn't look at her.
Why would he?
Her heart was sinking. That was the word, wasn't it? Sinking. Like an anchor. Like drowning.
And then—
She heard it.
His thought.
How, she doesn't know. Doesn't need to know.
She's cute.
She froze.
He kept walking. Didn't slow. Didn't turn. Kirishima was still talking and Bakugo was still half-listening and nothing about his expression changed. Nothing about the way he moved suggested he'd even registered her existence.
But the thought continued, blunt and unbidden:
Nice ass too.
That was it. The whole thing. He didn't think her name—he didn't know her name. He didn't wonder about her quirk or her year or whether she was worth his time.
Just: She's cute. Nice ass too.
Crude. Typical. So perfectly him that she almost laughed except her throat had closed up.
Then he was gone.
Down the hall. Around the corner. Kirishima's laugh bouncing off the walls.
She stood there.
Someone bumped into her eventually. She had to move.
She walked back to her dorm. Each step felt strange. Disconnected.
She sat on her bed.
The poster was still there. The shirtless one. The one where he looked like he could kill you or kiss you and you wouldn't know which until it was happening.
She stared at it.
And she decided.
Right there. In that moment. With her heart still doing whatever it was doing—sinking or racing or breaking or all three at once.
She was going to marry him.
Not someday. Not maybe. Not if she got lucky.
She was going to marry Katsuki Bakugo, and she wasn't going to date anyone else. Not until she did.
That was the decision.
She didn't care if it sounded insane. Didn't care if it took ten years. Didn't care if he never looked at her again, never thought about her again, never even remembered passing her in that hallway.
He thought she was cute.
He noticed her ass.
It was something.
It had to be something.
...
It had to be enough.