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Rosie sat at her desk with her feet tucked up on the chair, tongue peeking out in concentration as she carefully pressed a strip of lace ribbon along the edge of her Valentine’s Day box. The cardboard was already hidden beneath layers of pink and red construction paper, dusted with glitter that caught the light every time she moved. Tiny paper hearts, some perfectly cut while others charmingly uneven were glued along the sides, and a white satin bow sat proudly on the lid. She hummed softly to herself as she reached for another pinch of glitter and sprinkled it like fairy dust.
The door creaked open behind her. “That looks amazing, my little star.”
Rosie’s head snapped up, her face lighting instantly. Miyu stepped into the room, a plate of neatly cut fruit balanced in her hands of strawberries shaped like hearts, apple slices fanned out just so. She set it down on the desk beside the glue stick and scissors, careful not to disturb Rosie’s masterpiece.
“It looks so beautiful,” Miyu continued warmly, eyes shining as she took it all in.
Rosie beamed, shoulders straightening with pride. “I wanted it to be the prettiest one,” she said, voice small but determined. “So everyone knows it’s mine.”
Miyu laughed softly and reached out, brushing her fingers through Rosie’s long pink hair, smoothing a bit of glitter that had somehow found its way there. She leaned down and kissed Rosie’s brow, lingering just a second longer than necessary. “It’s perfect,” she murmured. “Just like you.”
Rosie’s hum picked back up, brighter this time, as she reached for another paper heart and her glue stick, carefully lining it up before pressing it into place.
“Have you finished making your valentines for your class?” Miyu asked, leaning against the doorway with an amused smile.
“Yes!” Rosie suddenly dropped the heart and glue stick, hopping down from her chair. She darted across the room to a paper bag tucked beside her bed and dragged it back with both hands. Inside were rows of pink cellophane bags, each tied with curling ribbon and stuffed with candied hearts, a mix of chocolates, a tiny folded card, stickers, and a stamp that sparkled under the light.
“I just finished them,” she said proudly, then added quickly, “and the ones for the kids outside my class too!”
Miyu’s eyes softened. “Of course you did. Did you make one for your father? He’d be sad if you didn’t make him one.”
Rosie nodded so hard her hair bounced. “I did! I even made one for you, Mommy!” Her grin stretched ear to ear, utterly delighted with herself.
“Aww, my darling girl,” Miyu said, crossing the room to pull her into a gentle hug. She kissed the top of Rosie’s head, breathing her in like she always did, as if memorizing the moment.
The next morning, Rosie sat at the kitchen table swinging her feet beneath the chair as she ate heart shaped pancakes drenched in syrup, a small pile of scrambled eggs on the side, and a tall glass of strawberry milk that left a pink mustache on her upper lip. Her Valentine’s Day box sat beside her backpack on the counter, already glittering before the sun was fully up.
She had just finished when the front door opened.
Her dad walked in, dressed sharply in a suit and tie, snow cold air clinging to him. In one hand he held a bouquet of flowers wrapped in pink paper, and in the other, a card.
“Happy Valentine’s Day,” he said, voice rough but warm.
Miyu turned from the sink, surprise lighting her face before melting into a smile. She stepped into him, kissing him softly. “Happy Valentine’s Day.”
Rosie watched them with quiet fascination. Her parents were always like this, all gentle touches, lingering adoring looks. Her dad might have been gruff and grumpy, tough with a no nonsense attitude, but he loved with the kind of devotion Rosie only ever saw in romance movies her Mom loved.
“Good morning, sunshine.” He turned toward her and pressed a kiss to her forehead. “Happy Valentine’s Day.”
“Happy Valentine’s Day!” Rosie chirped back. She hopped down from her chair and raced out of the kitchen, returning seconds later with a large, red and pink heart shaped handmade card and a small box of homemade candy clutched to her chest. She held it out to him with both hands.
“This is yours.”
Something in her father visibly softened. The hard lines of his face eased, his eyes warming as he took the card like it was made of glass. He cleared his throat, crouching down to her level. “You made this for me, huh?”
Rosie nodded proudly.
“It’s the best one I’ve ever gotten,” he said sincerely, pulling her into a tight hug. “I love you sunshine.”
“I love you too Daddy.”
As he continued to fret over her, Rosie just smiled as he rubbed his face against hers.
Miyu smiled to herself as she trimmed the flowers at the sink. “Go get your things, Rosie. I’ll take you to school this morning.”
“Okay, Mama!” Rosie wiggled free from her dad’s arms and scampered toward the door, slipping on her pink shoes, grabbing her backpack and her Valentine’s Day box with practiced excitement.
Her dad followed her over, crouched once more, and kissed her forehead. “Have a great day, sunshine.”
Rosie beamed, clutching her Valentine’s box to her chest like it was something precious and fragile. She looked up at her dad, eyes bright.
“Do you like it?”
He smiled. “I do. You’ve always been so creative,” he said, brushing a thumb lightly over the edge of the box. “You get that from your mom. She has always been like that.”
Rosie straightened just a little more at that, pride blooming warm in her chest.
The school looked like it had been dipped in love and glitter overnight. Streamers in red, pink, white, and purple draped the hallways, paper hearts taped to doors and windows. Bulletin boards overflowed with handmade cards and drawings, and even the lockers had little heart cutouts stuck to them. The air smelled faintly of sugar and construction paper.
Rosie fit right in. She wore a pink sweater with white hearts stitched across the front, a soft white skirt, and tights to match. Her shoes had tiny bows on them, and her cheeks were painted with small red hearts that Miyu had carefully drawn that morning. Rosie loved dressing up for holidays, it made the day feel extra special, like a storybook come to life.
She carried her Valentine’s box carefully down the hallway, the glitter catching the light with every step. Other students milled about, laughing and comparing outfits, clutching their own boxes and bags of treats. Rosie practically skipped, her excitement too big to contain, humming as she headed toward her classroom.
“Rosie!”
She spun around at the sound of her name.
Maerya, Akira, and Kanako stood together just outside their classroom, waving her over. They were dressed in festive reds, pinks, and whites too, Maerya with a heart shaped headband, Akira in a red sweater that was just a little too big, and Kanako with ribbons woven into her hair.
Rosie’s face lit up. “Hi!” she chirped, hurrying toward them, her box hugged close.
“Are you excited for today?” Maerya asked, bouncing slightly on her toes, her ribbons swaying with the movement.
Rosie nodded so fast her ponytail swished. “Yes! It’s my favorite day after Halloween.”
Every holiday followed the same rhythm at their school. The first half of the day was normal, math, reading, spelling. Then came lunch and recess, and after that, the best part was two whole hours of Valentine’s Day parties. They were allowed to pass out their valentines not just in their own class, but to friends in other rooms too, walking the halls like it was a celebration just for them. Then everyone would come back, eat sugar dusted cookies and brownies, drink juice until their tongues turned funny colors, watch movies, and make crafts until the final bell rang.
“I heard Ms. Larkin is letting us watch a movie while we decorate cookie bags,” Kanako said, eyes wide. “My cousin said her class doesn’t even get brownies.”
“That’s tragic,” Akira declared seriously. “Brownies are the best part.”
“Don’t forget to set up your box on your desk,” Kanako added, pointing toward the classroom. “Some people already started sending early ones.”
“Already?” Rosie gasped. “But it’s not even lunchtime yet.”
They followed her into the classroom together, the room buzzing with soft chatter and excitement. Rosie’s desk sat in the middle row by the window, sunlight spilling across it and making the glitter on her box sparkle even more. Each desk had been decorated with paper hearts taped to the corners, pink streamers draped across the whiteboard, and a banner that read Happy Valentine’s Day! in loopy letters.
Rosie carefully set her large Valentine’s box on her desk and slid her backpack underneath, making sure the slot on top was facing forward just right.
“I love your box,” Maerya said immediately. “The lace is so pretty.”
“And the glitter!” Akira added. “Mine just has stickers.”
“That’s okay,” Rosie said quickly. “Stickers are cute.”
Kanako leaned closer, lowering her voice conspiratorially. “Did you guys bring lip gloss today? I brought the watermelon one. It smells so good.”
Akira grinned and dug into her pocket. “I have the vanilla sparkly kind.”
Rosie’s eyes lit up. “Me too! Mama said cherry one would suit me better for today.” She smiled shyly.
Maerya giggled. “We should all put it on at recess.”
“Yeah,” Kanako nodded. “Girl power.”
That made Rosie laugh. “Like Sailor Moon!”
“Sailor Moon is the best,” Akira said firmly. “Sailor Jupiter could beat up anyone.”
“I like Sailor Venus,” Maerya said. “She’s pretty and brave.”
“I like Sailor Moon,” Rosie said, a little softer but just as certain. “Because she cries but still saves everyone.”
They all paused, considering that, then nodded like it made perfect sense.
As the bell rang and their teacher, Miss Misnight called them to their seats, Rosie glanced at her Valentine’s box one more time, already imagining it filling with colorful cards and treats.
During break between classes, Rosie went to her usual spot.
The stairwell was tucked away at the far end of the building, half forgotten and quiet, where the noise of the halls faded into a distant hum. Sunlight filtered in through the narrow window, dust motes drifting lazily in the air. It always smelled faintly of cleaning solution and old concrete.
She slowed as she reached the landing.
Katsuki was already there.
He sat on the step with his legs stretched out, one knee bent, his arms were crossed, expression sharp and impatient like he’d been waiting forever, even though she knew she was right on time.
“You’re late,” he said, scowling.
Rosie smiled. “I had to help my teacher.”
“Tch.” He looked away. “Whatever.”
She settled beside him, leaving just enough space to be polite, her skirt brushing the step. For a moment, neither of them spoke. They never needed to fill the silence right away, it was a comfortable kind of quiet, the kind that had followed them since elementary school.
They weren’t friends, but they weren’t strangers either.
It had always been like this between them, somewhere in between.
Rosie pulled a small book from her bag, flipping it open as she swung her legs gently. “I finished the one I told you about,” she said. “The ending was sad, but not in a bad way more like… hopeful.”
“Books are boring,” Katsuki replied automatically.
She hummed. “You say that every time.”
“And I mean it.”
Still, he leaned just a little closer to glance at the page.
She noticed and smiled. “I brought you a snack,” she added, digging into her bag and holding out a wrapped candy. “You get grumpy when you don’t eat.”
“I am not grumpy,” he snapped, snatching it from her hand. “…But thanks.”
She laughed softly, tucking her hair behind her ear. “You’re welcome.”
They sat like that, shoulder to shoulder, the quiet broken only by her soft rambling, about a song stuck in her head, about a cloud that looked like a rabbit, about how she thought the stairwell felt nicer when the sun hit it just right.
Katsuki listened.
He didn’t look at her much, but he always heard her. Every now and then he’d grunt, or argue, or tell her something was stupid, but when she leaned too close, he didn’t move away. When she sighed, he nudged her knee with his own like he was reminding her he was there.
“Hey,” he muttered at one point. “You’re cold.”
Before she could respond, he shrugged off his jacket and draped it over her shoulders, rough and quick like it was an afterthought.
Rosie blinked, fingers curling into the fabric. “Katsuki…”
“Don’t make it weird,” he warned, cheeks faintly pink. “Break’s almost over.”
She smiled anyway, soft and just for him.
The bell rang, sharp and loud.
Rosie stood, handing the jacket back reluctantly. “See you later?”
“Obviously,” he said, already on his feet. “Where else would I be?”
She laughed as they went their separate ways, the stairwell returning to its quiet.
It was during recess, while Rosie and the girls were taking turns pumping their legs on the swings, that it happened.
The playground buzzed with noise with kids laughing, sneakers scuffing against gravel, and the creak of metal chains. Rosie leaned back as she swung, the cool air brushing her cheeks, her shoes kicking toward the pale winter sky. That was when raised voices cut through everything else.
By the monkey bars, Monoma and Katsuki were fighting again.
Katsuki’s voice carried, sharp and explosive while Monoma gestured wildly, clearly enjoying the attention. A small crowd had already started to form, kids whispering and pointing as teachers watched from a distance, ready to intervene.
Akira slowed her swing, frowning. “Ugh. He is such a delinquent,” she said, shaking her head. “I don’t even know how he’s still in school.”
“I think he’s kind of cool,” Maerya shrugged, pushing herself higher.
Kanako snorted. “That’s because you have a crush on Katsuki.”
“I do not!” Maerya shot back, hopping off the swing and planting her hands on her hips. “First of all, I don’t even like boys like that yet.”
“Ew,” Akira scrunched up her nose. “He’s blonde.”
“So is Monoma,” Maerya shot back without missing a beat, “and you still like him.”
“That’s different,” Akira huffed.
Rosie stayed quiet, her swing slowing as she watched the argument unfold near the monkey bars. Katsuki looked angry, he always did when Monoma was around but there was something focused about him too, like he refused to back down no matter what. Rosie didn’t even realize she was staring unt—
Akira gasped. “Wait. Don’t tell me you like him!”
Rosie’s stomach dropped.
Her cheeks flushed a darker pink than the hearts painted on them that morning, and she looked down at her shoes, twisting the chains of the swing between her fingers. “I, no—I mean—” she mumbled, which somehow made it worse.
“That’s so cute,” Maerya cooed immediately, her voice soft and delighted.
Kanako giggled, covering her mouth. “Oh my god, Rosie.”
Akira crossed her arms, unconvinced. “Why though? He’s going to end up as one of those dropouts,” she said seriously. “He has a bad attitude, he’s always yelling at people, he insults everyone, and he gives them those mean nicknames.”
Maerya tilted her head, smirking a little. “Yeah, but not our little Rosie.”
Rosie peeked up at her, surprised.
“Think about it,” Maerya continued. “He’s always nice to her. He might raise his voice, but he never outright yells at her and his nickname for her?” She grinned. “It’s actually kind of cute.”
Kanako nodded in agreement. “It is. He calls everyone else mean things.”
Rosie’s heart fluttered despite herself. She hugged her knees to her chest on the swing, trying very hard not to smile.
“Still,” Akira muttered, glancing back toward the monkey bars where a teacher had finally stepped in. “He’s trouble.”
Maybe he was, Rosie thought. But as Katsuki stormed off, he glanced her way and for just a second, his scowl softened.
Rosie’s cheeks warmed all over again.
After lunch, the bell rang with a bright, excited trill, and the hallway doors were opened like it was a parade route instead of a school corridor.
Students poured out of their classrooms clutching Valentine’s bags and boxes, teachers reminding them to walk even as everyone practically floated from room to room. Rosie held her bag close, her Valentine’s box already heavier than it had been that morning, the slot stuffed with colorful envelopes and cellophane.
She headed down the hall to one of the other classrooms, peeking inside just in time to see Mina, Uraraka, and Momo sitting together at a cluster of desks near the windows. They were laughing, cookies already in hand, crumbs scattered across napkins.
Rosie stepped in shyly. “Are you… are you already done?”
Uraraka looked up and grinned. “Yeah! We were super fast.”
Mina nodded enthusiastically, pink fingers dusted with powdered sugar. “We wanted to finish early so we could just watch people put stuff in our boxes. It’s kinda fun.”
Momo smiled politely. “And the cookies were getting cold.”
Rosie giggled. “That makes sense.”
They chatted for a few minutes about which cookies were best, how many valentines they’d already gotten, and how Mina had decorated her box to match her horns. Rosie showed them one of her extra cellophane bags, and Mina gasped dramatically over the little stamps inside.
“That’s adorable,” Mina said. “You’re going to make everyone’s day.”
Rosie’s cheeks warmed at that.
Soon, she waved goodbye and slipped back into the hallway, moving from classroom to classroom, carefully dropping valentines into familiar boxes. She paused at one desk where the decorations were darker than the rest.
Tokoyami’s box sat stark and neat, wrapped entirely in black paper, matte and unadorned except for a single silver crescent moon on the lid. Rosie smiled softly and reached into her bag, pulling out the one valentine she’d made differently from all the others, a black envelope tied with a thin white ribbon.
She slipped it into the slot, feeling strangely proud.
Then she turned the corner and stopped. Katsuki’s box sat on his desk like it was daring anyone to touch it.
It was already half full, the top crowded with cards and candy, but the box itself was unmistakably his, painted in blazing reds and oranges, jagged explosion shapes bursting across the sides. It looked more like a battle crate than a Valentine’s box, more him than the holiday.
Rosie stood there for a moment, heart fluttering, her fingers curling around the last valentine in her bag.
Holding her Valentine’s box in her hands, she hummed to herself as she walked home.
That is, until she realized she was no longer alone.
Her steps slowed just a little as Katsuki fell into stride beside her, his own Valentine’s box tucked stiffly under one arm like he wasn’t sure what to do with it. The late afternoon sun caught in his messy blond hair, turning it almost soft.
“Kats!” she beamed.
He turned his head toward her, his usual scowl instinctively forming, only for it to falter the moment their eyes met. Instead of snapping right away, he squinted at her, suspicious. “Why the hell are you calling me that?”
Rosie blinked, genuinely confused. “I always call you that.”
“And each time,” he grumbled, “I tell you not to. It’s embarrassing.”
Despite himself, his cheeks and ears were tinted a very obvious red.
She smiled anyway, small and a little shy clutching her box closer to her chest as they walked. “Sorry. I just think it fits you.”
“It doesn’t,” he said immediately. “My name’s Katsuki.”
“But ‘Katsuki’ sounds so serious,” she replied, tilting her head. “You’re not serious all the time.”
He scoffed. “I am always serious.”
She giggled, the sound light and airy, like bubbles popping. Katsuki shot her a look, but it wasn’t sharp just flustered. “Tch. You’re annoying.”
“That’s not very nice,” she said softly, though her smile didn’t fade.
“…I didn’t say I hated it,” he muttered, staring straight ahead.
They walked in companionable silence for a few steps, their shoes scuffing against the pavement in sync. Pink petals from a nearby tree drifted lazily down around them, one landing briefly in Katsuki’s hair.
Rosie hesitated, then reached up on her toes and plucked it free. “You had something there.”
He froze. “…Don’t just do that,” he snapped, but his voice wobbled just slightly.
“Oh, sorry!” She quickly pulled her hand back, cheeks turning pinker than the petals. “I didn’t think—”
“It’s—” He stopped himself, clearing his throat. “…It’s fine.”
She peeked up at him. “You got a lot of chocolates today.”
“Tch. Obviously,” he said. “They’re just… obligatory.”
“Uh huh.” She smiled knowingly. “Did you get one you really liked?”
He glanced at her box. “…Did you?”
Her fingers tightened around the ribbon. “M-Maybe.”
That earned her a sideways look. “You’re weird.”
“But you’re walking with me,” she pointed out gently.
“…Yeah,” he admitted after a pause. “I am.”
They slowed near the fork where their paths would split, neither quite stopping, neither quite ready to go.
“…You can keep calling me Kats,” he said suddenly, eyes fixed stubbornly on the road. “Just… only you.”
Rosie’s eyes widened, then softened into a radiant smile. “Okay.” She hesitated, rocking slightly on her heels, fingers tightening around the ribbon of her Valentine’s box. Her voice dropped, shy but hopeful. “…Wanna walk me home?”
Katsuki stiffened like he’d been challenged to a fight. “Tch. Obviously,” he said, far too quickly. “It’s getting dark.”
Her smile brightened immediately, and she fell into step beside him again, close enough that their sleeves brushed every now and then. At first, she was quiet, until she wasn’t.
“So I checked out this book from the library,” she started, eyes lighting up. “It’s about a girl who lives in a moving house, and the walls change colors depending on how she feels, and oh! And I’ve been listening to this new song, it’s really soft but kind of sad? I like songs like that. Do you like music with lyrics or just loud stuff?”
“Loud,” Katsuki replied automatically.
She nodded thoughtfully. “That makes sense. But I think you’d like this one too. It’s loud and emotional.”
“…That sounds dumb,” he said.
“But you’re still listening,” she pointed out, smiling.
He clicked his tongue but didn’t deny it.
She kept talking as they walked, about the way she liked the smell of old books, how she wanted to learn guitar someday, how she was excited for springtime. Katsuki didn’t say much, but every so often he’d grunt in acknowledgment, or correct her when she got something wrong, or snort when she said something particularly silly.
Somehow, that was enough for both of them.
By the time they reached her house, the sky had turned dusky purple, porch lights flickering on one by one down the street.
“Well,” Rosie said softly, stopping at the gate. “This is me.”
She looked up at him, smiling. “Thanks for walking me home, Kats.”
“…Yeah,” he said, hands shoved deep into his pockets. “Whatever.”
She turned toward the door and suddenly, his hand shot out.
“Wait!”
Rosie gasped as he grabbed her wrist, not tight, just enough to stop her. Katsuki immediately looked like he wanted to explode.
“Tch, dammit,” he snapped, face burning red. “I— I forgot something.”
She blinked. “You did?”
“…Yeah,” he muttered, glaring at the ground. “I got you something extra for Valentine’s.”
Carefully, almost awkwardly, he took her hand in both of his. His fingers were warm, a little rough, and shaking just the tiniest bit. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a small plastic ring, the jewel catching the porch light.
He slid it onto her finger. It was red, bright and shiny and imperfect. “I tried to find a pink one,” he said quickly, words tumbling over each other like he wanted to get them out before he lost his nerve. “But they were all gone, and this was the only one that didn’t look stupid. If you don’t like it, you don’t have t—”
Rosie stared at the ring, her face slowly blooming pink. “I love it,” she said softly.
He froze.
“Red is a beautiful color,” she continued shyly. “And… it makes me think of your eyes.”
For a second, Katsuki looked like his brain completely shut down entirely.
“W-What the hell—” he sputtered, words tripping over themselves as heat flooded his face. “Don’t say stuff like that!”
Rosie didn’t laugh this time. She just smiled, soft and glowing, eyes bright like she’d tucked a little secret inside them. Slowly, carefully, she reached up and slipped the pink silk and white lace ribbon from her hair. Her curls loosened slightly as she held it between her fingers.
“Kats,” she said quietly.
He stiffened as she took his left hand, her touch warm and gentle. He watched, frozen, as she wrapped the ribbon around his wrist, the fabric smooth against his skin, and tied it into a neat little bow. It looked absurdly delicate there, pink and white against him but somehow… right.
Before he could say anything, before his brain could catch up to his heart, she rose onto her toes and pressed a quick, feather soft kiss to his cheek.
Katsuki’s entire body locked up, smoke might as well have come out of his ears.
“I’ll see you at school on Monday!” she said brightly, already stepping backward toward the door, waving over her shoulder like she hadn’t just completely ruined him.
He snapped out of it just long enough to blurt, “H-Hey! What’s the ribbon for?!”
She paused, turning back to him with that same gentle, sun warm smile.
“You’re my Valentine, silly.”
It hit harder than any explosion. He stared at her, face burning, chest tight, fingers curling slightly around the ribbon as if to make sure it was real. “…You’re mine too,” he said, quieter, but just as sure.
Rosie froze, pink bloomed across her cheeks, spreading fast as her smile turned shy and breathless. “Every year?”
“Every year,” he repeated.
She didn’t say anything, just nodded once, quick and flustered, before ducking inside and shutting the door behind her.
The porch light flicked on.
Katsuki stood there for a long moment, staring at the closed door, heart pounding way too fast for a stupid Valentine’s Day. Slowly, he lifted his hand, brushing his fingers over the spot on his cheek where she’d kissed him, then down to the ribbon tied around his wrist.
“…Dammit,” he muttered, voice rough.
He stared at the pink and white ribbon tucked just barely beneath the sleeve of his uniform. Instead of taking it off, he brushed his fingers over it and he didn’t stop smiling all the way home.