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The sun dipped low, spilling molten gold across the skyline as Bakugo remained quiet, fists buried in his pockets, head bent. His flame had dwindled, but not disappeared—it smoldered deep within like a tempest waiting to explode. Hikari was beside him, eyes soft as she watched his typically unyielding face wrinkle with something primal.
"Hey" she whispered, shattering the quiet. "You okay?"
A long pause. "Not really," he growled, looking away. "I don't wanna go home tonight."
Hikari didn't protest. She nodded once. "My place then."
Bakugo lifted his gaze, the tension in his jaw easing. "Tch. Thanks."
Behind them, the city thrummed with energy, but as they walked through the streets, all of it fell silent. Midoriya waved them off in the distance, worry etched into his smile. Hikari waved back, then inserted her hand onto Bakugo's arm.
"You don't need to pretend with me," she whispered.
"Who's pretending?" he growled. "I'm fine."
"You nearly died today."
"I'm still alive."
"Right," she said, a small smile playing on her lips. "Still too stubborn to admit when you need someone."
He glared down at her. "I didn't say I didn't need you."
Her heart skipped a beat, but she didn't let it show. "Good. Because I'm not leaving."
Her apartment was cozy and lived-in, softly lit and strewn with books. Bakugo collapsed onto the couch like a veteran returning from war. His shoulders slumped. For once, he wasn't angry, just tired. Hikari returned with snacks and put them out on the table. "You're lucky I know all your favorites."
"Tch. I taught you well."
She raised an eyebrow and threw a pillow at him. "You're impossible."
"And still the best.".
"Debatable." She leaned in and kissed his cheek. "But thanks for not dying."
His cheeks flushed right away. "What the hell was that for?"
"Because I felt like it," she teased. "And maybe because I like when you're not getting yourself nearly killed."
Bakugo tried to be upset, but the corners of his mouth crept up. "Whatever."
The tension eased as they spent the next couple of hours watching anime reruns and trash-talking each other over video games. Every time she beat him, Bakugo would loudly call it luck—every time he won, he’d gloat like he’d won the sports festival.
“Just admit I’m better, Ka-Chan,” Hikari smirked after a particularly close match.
“You wish,” he said, laughing for real this time. “You got lucky, Smartass.”
She popped popcorn at him. "You love me."
He caught it in his mouth. "Yeah, unfortunately."
Later, after a fierce round of playing together in the sheets of Hikari’s bedroom, the mood shifted. Sweat-dampened hair clung to Bakugo’s forehead, and for once, his fire had calmed. Hikari curled beside him, fingers resting on his chest, eyes on the ceiling. The silence between them felt peaceful heavy in a way that made her feel safe.
Then her phone buzzed on the nightstand. Hikari glanced over. The name on the screen curled her stomach into a knot.
Him.
"Ugh. Not now," she muttered.
Bakugo rolled over. "You okay?"
"Yeah," she lied, crawling out of bed and answering the call on the balcony.
"Why do you want it?" she snapped. "When are you going to get it through your thick head? I don't want a relationship with you. You're not my father. I have one. He's the Number One hero. You? You were always second best."
A pause.
"I found someone to inherit my power," the man replied quietly. "Your best friend. I thought you'd want to know. Meet us at Dagobah Beach tomorrow."
Another beat of silence.
"I wasn't good enough," he continued. "I thought leaving you would keep you safe. I thought you'd be better off without me."
She snorted. "You were wrong. I'll see you tomorrow. Don't make me sorry."
She hung up just as Bakugo strolled into the kitchen, shirtless and rubbing his eyes. "You really don't sleep, huh?"
Hikari leaned against the counter, trying to quiet her mind. "Not nearly so much as me. Want to go get food?"
"Yeah. Spicy, please."
Early morning, and Bakugo had disappeared off to his family, off pretending nothing ever concerned him. Hikari waited by the doorway for a few moments, then took a breath before grabbing her phone.
A name flashed on the screen. She hadn't messaged him in years. But something told her that now was the moment.
'Hi. I don't know what to write, so I'll just write this come meet me at our place. Don't keep me waiting like you did last time.'
She clicked send.
And waited.
ns160.79.111.222da2
