Chapter Text
✦ ・゚⋆✦。˚✧⋆。✦ : *✦
star of the day: antares
a red supergiant, fierce and unsteady, shining brightest just before it breaks.
✦ ・゚⋆✦。˚✧⋆。✦ : *✦
It was your choice to break up with him.
You were a U.A. student of Class 1-A—beloved in a way that felt natural, inevitable. Your grades were flawless, your presence easy, friendships forming around you like gravity, as if the world had quietly decided you were meant to be held by it.
”why the hell are you breaking up with me?”
You remembered that memory so vividly, your hotheaded boyfriend standing before you like a storm given shape, his words spat sharp and reckless, burning the space between you. You remained unmoving, arms crossed tight against your chest, a careful façade pulled over your features as if stillness alone could keep you from shattering.
”yn?” Bakugou softened his voice with a harsh swallow and wavering smirk, “don’t joke with me. It’s not the time, not right now.”
“I’m not joking, Katsuki.”
You locked your emotions away and met his fury with a cold, unflinching glare, even as his anger betrayed him—veins standing stark along his arms and throat, breath uneven, heat rolling off him in waves. He looked every bit as explosive as everyone feared, and yet that wasn’t what unraveled you.
”we’re finished.”
”why?” He started off soft until he scowled and shouted louder in annoyance, “why?!”
It was the heartache in his eyes that nearly undid you, the quiet, wounded disbelief flickering beneath all that rage. Your focus splintered under its weight, chest tightening as silence stretched thin—until you forced the words out, knowing they would land like a final blow anyway.
”I simply don’t love you anymore.”
”yn!”
You turned away and pivoted on your toes, the motion sharp and deliberate, as if leaving were just another step. Tears burned at the backs of your eyes, but you kept your head lifted, forcing yourself to look convincing even as your resolve trembled. You did not allow yourself to look back, not when doing so would have meant falling apart.
“If you walk away now, don’t ever fucking come back!”
Bakugou Katsuki stood at the center of your school life since the beginning, not just as your desk partner but as someone entwined in every second you shared. You trained together, studied together, moved in step so often it felt less like effort and more like instinct, a rhythm forged through proximity and fire.
“You guys broke up?”
”what? how come?”
That was why it came as a shock when it was discovered that you were the one to break the invisible string holding you together, the one who turned without warning and left him standing there alone. There was no slow unraveling, no visible fracture—just a sudden absence, a blinding end to something everyone thought unbreakable.
But you had your own reasons.
Fear.
You were an avoidant heart, shaped by self‑defense and quiet retreat, always bracing for the moment something would hurt too much to hold. You learned early how to keep distance disguised as control, how to leave before the leaving could be done to you.
Staying with him made that armor feel thin.
The boy with bright red eyes who set your world alight asked for closeness without meaning to, made joy feel vivid and dangerous all at once, like standing too close to an open flame. Even in his presence, your heart raced with the thrill of what you both could lose.
And the longer you stayed, the clearer the fear became—
not of him-
but of how deeply he reached you.
Loving him meant risking the very thing you had spent so long protecting, and you weren’t sure you knew how to survive that kind of brightness unscarred. It left you unsettled, unsure of how to hold yourself steady in a world that suddenly felt too intense to navigate.
so that’s why when you heard you were entering a big war, you did the only thing you spent 16 years of your life doing.
running away.
You didn’t want to risk your heart hurting more than anything, craving the quiet peace you had spent so long protecting. Every instinct told you to shield yourself, to keep your walls high and steady, even if it meant keeping distance from those you cared for most.
You were capable of enduring injury, of watching others fall in war, of bearing pain without flinching—but the bond you shared with Bakugou Katsuki was different. It burned too brightly, too intimately, and you knew your heart wouldn’t let it pass unscathed if you witnessed anything happening to him with the current love you had for him.
So you made the choice to step back, to break what felt unbreakable, and start rebuilding the walls that had always kept you safe. It left you unsettled, unsure of how to navigate the pull of what you were leaving behind, and yet certain that this distance was the only way to survive yourself.
“Yn,” a familiar vocal tone appeared above your supine body, almost like a bell as uraraka asked you, “are you still training?”
Training before the war became the only refuge during your private time, each movement a way to bury the swell of hurt feelings growing in your chest. Every punch, every sprint, every calculated maneuver was a shield against the ache that rose whenever his absence pressed close.
”yea.” You breathed out aimlessly as you laid out in the grass and your arm over your forehead, “just… just a little more practice is all I need.”
The hateful glares, the cold distance, the sharpness in the air when he ignored you—they carved into you more than any horrible wound you’ve received ever could. You told yourself it was discipline, focus, control, but your heart whispered a different truth beneath the rhythm of exertion.
And when quiet moments came, when the world paused and left you alone with your thoughts, it was his absence that struck hardest. Missing Bakugou Katsuki was a weight you couldn’t outrun, no matter how precise or relentless your training became.
The war was more terrifying than anything you’ve ever witnessed.
It was the most intense thing you had ever faced as a U.A. student, a challenge that stretched every limit you thought you knew. You had endured battles before, fought alongside friends when villains infiltrated the city, survived the chaos of work studies—but this was different.
This war against All For One and the League of Villains pressed down like a weight you couldn’t shrug off. The stakes were higher, the danger more personal, and each decision carried consequences that felt too heavy for anyone to bear alone.
You questioned your preparedness constantly, wondering if all your training, all your instincts, all your careful planning would be enough when the moment came. Fear and anticipation twisted together in your chest, and even the strongest parts of you felt the tremor of uncertainty.
“Yn Chan! Watch out!”
And yet, despite the doubt, despite the awareness that this was beyond anything you’d faced, there was a fire inside you—a stubborn, burning need to survive, to protect, to face it all even if you weren’t completely ready.
It was too late for you to hesitate now.
all of that training you did- you will not let it go to waste with this useless fear.
The screams of your name tore through the chaos, a piercing alarm that made your head snap toward the danger coming towards you. Instinct took over before thought, and your hands flared with light as your quirk ignited—a Supernova Pulse, energy coalescing into glowing, spinning stars that shimmered like fragments of the cosmos. Each pulse shot forward like a comet unleashed, streaking through the air with a brilliance that seared the shadows around you.
“Fuck!” you grunted as a sharp slice cut through the air toward your face, instincts flaring as you twisted just barely in time to avoid the deep cut, “Fuck—fuck!”
The words tore from your throat, ragged and urgent, echoing over the chaos as adrenaline ignited every nerve. Your body moved on instinct alone, heart hammering, as you barely evaded the strike, the danger grazing too close to be ignored.
You moved with precision, carving paths between debris and enemies alike, stars arcing from your fingertips in rhythmic bursts. The ground trembled beneath your power, sparks scattering and crackling against walls as the air itself seemed to hum with the force you wielded. Every strike radiated both beauty and danger, the glow of your quirk painting the battlefield in luminous streaks of gold.
Yet even as you pushed forward, the assault came in waves, relentless and unyielding.
A sharp impact caught you off guard, sending you sprawling across the rubble-strewn floor, stars flickering and fading in your grip. Pain radiated through your side, breath coming in ragged pulls, your body trembling from the force of your own power and the enemy’s strikes.
the pain was so vivid that till this day, you still remember it.
You laid there, chest rising and falling, glittering sparks slowly dying in your hands, still breathing though every muscle screamed in protest. The battlefield blurred around you, light and shadow spinning together, and though exhaustion weighed heavy, there was a fragile thread of resolve that kept you from going under completely.
”that fight made me feel a little bad for you kiddo.”
A boot slammed into your chest, forcing the air from your lungs in a dizzying rush. Pain spiraled up your body as they twisted their heel, and the metallic taste of blood filled your mouth while you coughed, vision blurring at the edges.
“It was almost too easy!” They cackled, laughter cut through the haze, cruel and sharp, echoing in your ears as if the world itself had turned against you.
“Shall I give you the present of living?”
their voice crooned, sickeningly gentle as it slipped through the haze clouding your mind. Your pupils followed them with unfiltered hatred, vision swimming yet sharp enough to bare your defiance, even as your body failed to obey you.
They noticed, of course—they always did. A pout tugged at their lips, feigned and mocking, as if your glare were a personal slight rather than the last thing you had left to offer.
“Well,” they sighed, tilting their head, “if you look at me like that, it’s hard to be nice…”
The words lingered, heavy and cruel, settling into your chest alongside the pain. You lay there trembling, breath shallow, consciousness fraying at the edges, knowing they were savoring this moment—the power, the choice, the way you still refused to break even now.
“Answer me.”
Blinking in and out of focus, you felt their hand twist into your hair, yanking you upright with a force that made your skull reel. A cold, razor‑sharp knife scraped along your cheek, dragging fire across your skin and leaving a sting that burned far deeper than any wound. Stars of light flickered in your vision, the battlefield spinning, each breath a ragged gasp against the crushing weight of pain.
“….-you.”
Through the clamor of battle, your voice barely rose above a whisper, fragile and strained against the storm of fighting around you. The villain’s brow furrowed in confusion, eyes narrowing as they leaned closer, tilting their head.
“What was that?” they asked, curiosity laced with irritation, unaware of what was about to come.
Then, with a sudden feral energy, a wide, defiant smirk spread across your face. You spat the blood that had pooled in your mouth directly onto their face, the warm, coppery taste marking both your defiance and their shock. A laugh tore from your throat, raw and jagged.
“Fuck you!” you roared, letting your fury echo over the battlefield.
The villain’s reaction was swift and brutal. They slammed you to the ground, pain exploding through your ribs and side as you grunted, every breath jagged and uneven. The floor beneath you felt unyielding, rough against your skin, yet the spark of defiance burned brighter than the pain that tried to pin you down.
“You-!” The villain wiped their face in a rush, angered flaring through them, “you disgusting little bitch, I’ll kill you!”
Even as your body shook and trembled, bleeding and bruised, your eyes still flashed with fire. Every gasp and heartbeat was a small rebellion, a reminder that even when overpowered, even when the world pressed down against you, you forced yourself to cling to the fragile thread of consciousness.
“I’d love to see you try,” you cackled, “I’m not giving up that easily!”
Breathing came in shallow, desperate pulls, your heart hammering in time with the distant sounds of chaos, and though every fiber of you screamed surrender, you still survived—fragile, bleeding, and painfully aware that you had not yet fallen.
You were in the midst of the fight, every sense screaming as you unleashed your quirk, dodged attacks, and fought for every inch of ground, when a sudden thought pierced through the storm.
Bakugou katsuki.
The boy who had captured your heart so completely appeared in your mind, unbidden, sharp and vivid, and for a fraction of a second, everything else faded. You didn’t know why his image surfaced now, mid‑air and mid‑battle, but the memory struck like a flare.
Then it became more than memory—a flash of blonde lying on the ground, rimmed with red, still and lifeless, stole your focus entirely.
“Katsuki?”
Two heroes crouched at his side, their faces etched with fear and urgency, and your breath caught in your throat. The battlefield blurred around you, attacks coming too fast, too violent, and your concentration shattered under the weight of what you saw.
Are you okay?
katsuki, what are you doing?
why are you just laying there, get up you idiot!
A blow slammed into you with brutal force, your head snapping against the floor, vision cracking at the edges. Pain exploded through your skull as the villain’s strike landed squarely, and you crumpled to the ground, dazed, trembling, still breathing, but utterly disoriented.
You were curled on the floor, arms drawn close, holding back the flood of tears that threatened to spill. The world around you felt suspended, heavy with pain and chaos, until the slow, wobbly footsteps of the villain drew your attention like a dark tide.
“don’t you dare get distracted while fighting me…”
Your emotions surged so violently that you barely noticed your own heartbeat racing, pounding against your ribs with a ferocity that mirrored the tension in the air. Fear, anger, and desperation coiled together, sharpening every sense, making each moment stretch until it ached.
”look at me you brat!”
Before their hand could reach out to you, something within ignited. Your body flared with blinding light, stars and sparks bursting from your hands and skin as if the universe itself had decided to fight alongside you.
You looked up at them with a choking shrill, “Don’t touch me!”
Energy erupted in small explosions, shimmering and crackling around you, scattering shadows with every pulse. The brilliance forced the villain back, if only for a heartbeat, and in that fleeting moment, the chaos around you seemed to bend to your will, luminous and unstoppable.
it all seemed to blur at that point.
You don’t remember much after that night, only fragments of brilliance and chaos swirling together in a blur. The villain had practically disintegrated before your eyes, their form shattered into nothing, leaving only the echo of power and the ringing silence that followed.
You lay on the cold floor, body trembling and losing alot of blood, counting stars that seemed to float in your vision as your mind drifted in and out. Each blink carried fragments of light, scattering across your consciousness like distant, cold constellations, and yet nothing could fully anchor you.
Amid the haze, one image clung with unbearable clarity: Bakugou Katsuki, your number one drive, lying there, defeated, his red eyes dimmed, losing that spark that you loved to see in his eyes every time he fought a strong villain.
“K-Katsuki…”
Even as your body quivered with fatigue, your mind refused to let go of the memory of him. The twinkling stars around you blurred, shimmered, and burned in silent witness to the way your heart clenched, torn between the relief of survival and the terror of what you had seen.
You can’t die.
katsuki, you can’t die like this.
You have so much waiting ahead for you.
You liked to think that as you lay there, pouring every ounce of your energy into wishing upon the shooting stars above, someone—or something—was listening. Each flicker in the sky became a fragile thread of hope, and your chest ached with the desperate longing that your wishes might somehow reach the right place.
”fireworks…?”
You weren’t sure if you were dying or simply suspended between moments, caught in a haze where pain and light collided. The remnants of your quirk—tiny sparks and glowing fragments—still lingered in the sky, drifting like distant stars you had sent into the void.
But among them, new colors flickered, strange and alive, weaving in with your own scattered light. The sky seemed impossibly vast, both beautiful and disorienting, as if the universe itself had become a canvas for something you couldn’t yet comprehend.
”who's playing with….”
Your eyes widened as much as they could, pupils dilating in disbelief, when the first spark of orange and gold shimmered among the stars you had sent your hopes toward. It began small, delicate and hesitant, twirling with a warmth that made your heart skip, intertwining with the stars that had been yours alone.
Then the spark exploded, a brilliant cascade of light that erupted into a spectacular display of explosive fireworks, dazzling and alive, painting the sky with impossible beauty. Each burst carried a rhythm you knew intimately, a signature you could recognize without question—a presence that filled the void in your chest with sudden, blinding clarity.
You’re alive.
You knew, without a doubt, that this was him—the boy you had thought lost—sending back life, warmth, and a reminder that the bond between you had not been broken. The stars danced, the colors burned brighter than ever, and your heart, still trembling from fear and pain, swelled with the undeniable truth of his existence.
thank god, you’re safe.
It felt strangely calming as your blurry eyes slowly drifted closed, the chaos of the battlefield fading into a soft, distant hum. Above you, the explosives bloomed in brilliant bursts of light, painting the night sky with golds and oranges that danced like fire and stars combined.
Through the shimmering display, you could see him—still fighting, still strong, pushing for victory, a beacon of defiance and life above the wreckage. The sight anchored you, letting the storm of pain inside you ease just enough to breathe freely.
With each pulse of light, the agony subsided, and for the first time in hours, you felt a fragile peace settle over you. You allowed yourself to sink into it, to finally let go, cradled by the luminous sky and the unwavering strength of the boy who will always have your heart.
You trusted that he would win.
because bakugou katsuki never loses.
When you woke up the next week after the small comatose, the world felt soft and muted, a fragile quiet after the storm. You found yourself surrounded by many other classmates and heroes who had stayed longer, all resting in the hospital, their breaths slow and steady, the chaos of the war were now reduced to memory.
“Yn ln san, glad to see you awake.”
The doctor and a few familiar teachers stood beside you, charts in hand, their faces soft with relief as they took in the sight of you awake. Bandages wrapped you from head to toe, a patchwork of protection that marked both your survival and the battles you had endured.
Their smiles were gentle, carrying a quiet gratitude that filled the room, and for a moment, the weight of pain and exhaustion eased from your chest. You returned their gaze, weak but sincere, the smallest curve of your lips breaking through the haze of discomfort.
“I’m glad to be alive,” you murmured, voice trembling yet steady, each word a fragile affirmation of endurance.
“Umm… doctor…,” You decided to cut the chase, fingers fiddling nervously as you squinted at the adults through your blurry vision, “what are my injuries?”
“Let’s see…”
The injuries you carried were permanent, small reminders of how close you had come to losing everything. Your right eye bore a slight blindness, a lingering effect of your quirk’s overwhelming backlash, and your arm grip had weakened, making every motion a careful effort.
Yet the worst had been avoided, the scars that could have marred you beyond recognition spared. Only the one on your cheek remained, a delicate trace of pain etched into your skin, a silent testament to the battles you had survived.
Even in the mist of recovery, there was a strange peace, a gentle acknowledgment that despite the injuries, despite the exhaustion, you had endured—and lived to see the stars once more.
”yn chan!!”
The door slammed open, light and motion flooding the quiet room as multiple classmates poured in, their faces bright with relief and excitement. You recognized them instantly, those who had been awake before you, rushing toward you as though the world itself depended on your survival.
“You guys!” You choked up, “is everyone okay?”
Tears pricked at the corners of your eyes, unbidden and warm, as they closed the distance between you. Each step they took, every eager smile, carried the weight of care and unspoken worry that had been held tightly while you lay unconscious.
“Why are you worrying about us,” yaoyorozu momo scolded you through her tears, “you need to heal up soon! You gave us quite a scare taking so long waking up…”
“we missed you!”
They came bearing flowers, tokens of love and hope, hands outstretched toward you, and the room filled with the shimmer of laughter, paper, and warmth. Your heart ached in a new, tender way, overwhelmed by the sheer intensity of being wanted, being remembered, and being alive.
Recovery was a slow painful process.
The years passed strangely, swift yet heavy, as the slow recovery became a rhythm you had learned to live with. First-year friends became second- and third-year memories, faces and laughter drifting past as time wove itself around the quiet pulse of your days.
Your arms had regained full strength, every movement precise and sure, but your vision remained a blurry mess, stubborn and unpredictable, a constant reminder of what had been lost. Tasks once simple required focus, patience, and the soft persistence you had learned to carry like a shield around your heart.
Bakugou Katsuki drifted farther with each year, interactions few and strained, limited to the cold necessity of projects or group work. His distance, once painful but manageable, had become a wall you respected and never tried to scale, too scared to step into the space you had shattered between you.
And so you let the years pass, the quiet ache settling deep in your chest, a constant echo of the boy whose red eyes had once set your world ablaze. You watched from afar, unsure, too wary of reopening the wounds that still ached, guarding your own heart with the same careful vigilance that had saved you once before.
”yn, you look so pretty!”
you giggled, grinning lopsidedly, “thanks, ochako.”
It was graduation day, the culmination of three years steeped in hard work, battles, and tireless dedication to your dreams. Each step along the path to this moment had been marked by struggle and triumph, and now the weight of it all settled in your chest like a quiet, radiant pride.
You had earned your place, and the future waited with open arms—an agency internship, an official sidekick position offered, and the thrill of what was to come made your pulse quicken. The anticipation hummed through you, a current of hope and eagerness that made even the nerves in your stomach feel electric.
You bit down on your lip, hands messing with your hair that Ashido styled for you, “I’m super nervous… what if I trip?”
Uraraka smirked at you as she threw an arm over your shoulder that made you grunt, her laughter filling the area, “then I’ll catch you, yn!”
”stand tall, we’re graduating today!”
Dressed carefully for the occasion, your hair curled gracefully down your back, you caught glimpses of yourself in the windows as you guys walked together, each reflection a reminder of the journey that had shaped you. Shoulders squared and heart racing, you braced yourself for the next step.
student to graduate,
from dreamer to hero.
And now, standing at the start of the pathway, the familiar weight of nerves and exhilaration mingled as you took your first step forward. Every breath felt like a quiet declaration: you had survived, you had grown, and you were ready to meet the world beyond U.A. on your own terms.
”please welcome, our third year graduates. Class 3-a.”
Walking alongside your friends felt lighter than you remembered, each step buoyed by laughter, cheers, and the bright glow of accomplishment. Faces from other classes and teachers alike turned to celebrate you, their applause a recognition of the battles you had endured and the sacrifices you had made.
It was widely understood, the role you all had played in the war, the courage and strength that had carried you through moments no one else could survive. Now, finally, they could see you as the heroes you had fought to become, heroes who had earned every moment of this day.
Your chest fluttered as you continued along the pathway, the joy of the moment mingling with a quiet, lingering tension you hadn’t expected. Your gaze swept across the crowd, and there he was—Bakugou Katsuki—walking with his own group of friends, focused elsewhere, unaware, yet his soft smile made your heart skip regardless.
Instinctively, you turned your head, though the proud smile stayed on your own face, fragile yet genuine. Even after all the distance, all the pain and time apart, that single smile reminded you of the affection that had never truly faded, even if words could not reach it.
That was three years of your life in a nutshell.
Life after high school unfolded like a new, uncharted world, each day offering lessons you had never faced before. You learned to grow, to stumble, to explore the limits of yourself, discovering strengths and weaknesses you hadn’t known existed.
Sometimes you were fully present in the company of your closest friends, laughing and sharing moments as you always had, and other times you drifted inward, absorbed in your own thoughts and ambitions. The balance was delicate, but you carried enough care to maintain the bonds that had shaped you, even as you carved out space to truly know yourself.
The days were relentless, full of new challenges, responsibilities, and discoveries, each one adding layers to the person you were becoming. You moved through life with focus and quiet determination, learning to navigate both the mundane and the extraordinary with resilience.
Nine years passed in what felt like the blink of an eye, leaving behind a trail of growth, memories, and accomplishments. You emerged from the blur stronger, wiser, and more yourself than ever, carrying both the lessons of the past and the promise of all that was yet to come.
”hey, are you going to the reunion?”
You had just arrived home from a long day at work, the weight of the day still pressing lightly on your shoulders. Your purse landed on the counter with a soft thud as you opened the fridge, reaching for a cold beer, phone tucked between ear and shoulder.
The crisp chill of the drink met your lips, and you hummed thoughtfully as you took a long, satisfying chug, letting the tension of the day ease just a little. The golden liquid fizzed and settled, grounding you in the comfort of this quiet, familiar space.
“Yes, Mina. I’ll come to the reunion,” you said, voice steady as you balanced everything. You added with a soft chuckle, imagining his relentless enthusiasm, “If I didn’t, Eijirou would probably drag me there anyway.”
Through the phone, Ashido’s laughter rang out, bright and infectious, lifting the last remnants of your workday weariness. For a moment, the world felt light, safe, and warm, tethered by friendship and the simple joy of a shared joke.
”At the 82nd street… at 7 pm right?” You asked her with furrowed brows as you tried to clarify details. Placing her on speaker as you went through your phone calendar, “is there a dress code I should be aware of?”
“Nope!” She responded cheerfully, “and yes, 7 pm. Some of us are coming later due to nightshift patrolling, but I don’t think anyone has said no out of the whole class.”
“Hmmm.. alright.”
You sank onto the couch, letting your body collapse against the armrest, fatigue settling into every muscle. The weight of the day pressed against you, and for a moment, the world narrowed to the quiet rhythm of your breathing.
“Ochako said she was going to come early and get us tables, I think kyoka said she’d join her too. I can’t since I have to go home straight after my evening patrol.”
You nodded along as Mina shared the details, her voice drifting through the phone. Your hair cascaded down your back, brushing lightly against your skin, and you let out a sigh slightly from the stillness of the room. You focused on her words, letting them anchor your attention and quiet the buzz of everything else around you.
”I’ll probably stop by early to help if I don’t have anything scheduled…” you picked at the dirt under your nails as you thought about your own plan before the reunion, “I have some things I want to pick up from the pharmacy though…”
“No worries! Um-”
Silence stretched for a few seconds, and you wondered if Ashido had hung up on you, the quiet pressing in like a weight. You lifted the phone to see she was still on call, pressing it back to your ears as your mind drifted, replaying the last words she’d said, searching for meaning in the pause.
“Mina? You there still?”
Then her words came, abrupt and jarring, almost bursting your ear drums as you winced and had to pull the phone away. The sound of her voice cut through the stillness, leaving your mind spinning with questions you weren’t ready to answer.
“Hey, did you know Katsuki just broke up with his girlfriend?”
“uhh…”
You sat there staring at the dark TV, its black surface reflecting your face back at you, lips parted slightly as you licked them. Thoughts drifted and tangled, your hands moving without direction to twirl the pieces in your face while your mind tried to make sense of the sudden news.
”Mina…” you sighed with the roll of your eyes. You tilted your head back to look at the ceiling, controlling the wavering in your voice with raised eyebrows, “this concerns me… because…?”
”well…”
You could hear the way she struggled with her words, stuttering and stammering quietly through the phone as if each syllable weighed more than the last. Finally, a deep exhale came through the speaker, slow and deliberate, a soft release that carried more meaning than words ever could.
”nothing,” ashido eventually responded, weakly adding, “I just thought that, you know, maybe that you’d want to know…?”
“mmm..”
Silence stretched across the phone, heavy and awkward, filling the space between you with a quiet tension. You closed your eyes and took another slow sip of your beer, letting the cool liquid settle in your chest. The hum of the fridge and the faint sounds of your apartment became the only background, grounding you in the stillness.
”I think I’ll end the call here, Mina,” you yawned exaggeratedly and stretched your arms above your head, “I’m tired after tonight’s patrol. Is there anything else you want to tell me?”
Finally, you made your decision, letting a quiet resolve settle in. You didn’t want to talk anymore, tired in body and mind, and ready to let the phone rest on the counter. You realized that the energy it took to keep speaking was more than you had left in you tonight.
”no… goodnight yn.”
”night Mina.”
You hung up the phone, and immediately felt the tension in your muscles begin to melt away, each fiber finally letting go. The tightness in your shoulders, the clenched jaw, the restless grip on the phone—all eased as you sank deeper into the couch. For the first time in a long while, you allowed yourself to simply exist without effort.
The apartment was quiet now, the only illumination coming from the soft, natural glow of the night spilling through the windows. Shadows stretched and shifted along the walls, painting the familiar space in muted, comforting tones.
You breathed slowly, letting the darkness cradle you, and closed your eyes for a moment, savoring the peace. The world outside could wait; there was nothing demanding your attention here. In that soft, quiet night, you finally felt a fragile serenity settle over your mind and body.
”thanks a lot for bringing him up, Mina.”
It was a little annoying, you thought, the familiar topic creeping into conversation yet again. No one really wanted to hear about an ex, especially one whose name seemed to float through your life every day. The repetition grated at the edges of your patience, though not harshly enough to spark real anger.
Still, you found yourself listening, more curious than irritated, letting the words wash over you in quiet observation. There was something comforting in the routine of it, a strange reminder of the life you and others continued to live beyond the past. The annoyance softened, folding into a more subtle awareness of how much time had passed since it had truly mattered.
You weren’t entirely mad about it, not really, even as your mind wandered to memories and half-forgotten feelings.
You hadn’t seen Bakugou in person since graduation day, and part of you was certain he had probably forgotten about you entirely. Time had stretched between you like an endless chasm, and you could only guess at the person he had become.
Bakugou katsuki.
its been years, do you remember how you used to hold me?
You wondered how much he had grown, how the years had shaped him beyond the memories you carried of him. Would he still carry the same fire in his eyes, the same intensity that had once set your heart racing? Or had the world tempered him, molded him into someone unrecognizable from the boy you once knew?
The only pieces you had of him now were fragments from the past and snippets of current-day news, fleeting glimpses that painted an incomplete picture. Still, they were enough to stir the pull of curiosity, a quiet need to see the truth for yourself. You found yourself holding onto the thought, letting it drift in the space between longing and wonder.
“I guess we’ll see tomorrow.”
You pushed yourself off the couch, muscles stretching with a quiet ease as you stood. You took a deep breath, letting the anticipation for tomorrow fill you with gentle anticipation. Tomorrow was a new day, a chance to see all your friends again, and you felt ready, small smile still lingering, carrying you quietly into what was to come.
the reunion is something you found yourself looking forwards to.
A/n
i did it.
I folded to do the pregananxy bakugou fanfic. I love writing bakugou so much. Don’t get me wrong I love Todoroki but… I love bakugou. My whole page is a fan page for him. Sorry. LOL
I hope to build an update schedule soon. I’m wanting to finish up Warmth of flowers while maintaining this story. But I’m also balancing school and work, so I gotta see how that’s gonna go soon.
I hope you enjoy this story.
PREGANANT reader! Time skip bakugou. Reader is a pro hero this time. Her quirk is supernova stars yay! I don’t really use quirks in my stories but it sounds cute doesn’t it? Lol! Reader this time is. … I try to do different personalities but idk haha I think this yn is gonna be more interesting to write, gonna try to make her actually hero-like, more straight forward haha. We’ll see how that goes, I don’t want a shy reader this time!!
this one is a filler, ik filler for first chapther is weird, but this is just the build up of your background. You guys are exes that never truly hated eachother, just babies put into war. I hink this is a fun concept.
Thank you for all of the support. I hope you guys give this one as much love as my Todoroki fic. If this is your first time here, then check out my todoroki fic! It’s fun there too.
https://www.ao3.icu/works/74860001/chapters/195561466
thank you <3. Everly out <3
