Room 209. Room 210.
He could hear the shift of her movement—
Rhythmic. Familiar.
Stretching, probably. Like always. Even now.
He wondered if she was sore.
Wondered if she was thinking about the fight too.
Not in a sentimental way.
Just tactically.
Analyzing.
> Did I push her enough?
Did she hold back?
Did she let me land that last hit?
His brow furrowed.
The ceiling didn’t offer answers.
His fists curled against the sheets.
Not in anger.
In calculation.
---
The buzz in his hands still hadn’t stopped.
It wasn’t energy. It wasn’t adrenaline.
It was her.
It was the echo of the moment she bent around his blast like it was hers to redirect.
The way her smirk had curled the second she said “No one can move faster than a walk,” and his whole body had obeyed like she’d put a leash on his spine.
The worst part?
He didn’t hate it.
---
Room 209 was still sharp. Controlled.
Gloves on the wall. Wraps hung to dry. Desk cleared.
Nothing out of place.
But he was out of place.
Sitting on the edge of his bed, towel hanging off his neck, breathing like he’d run a marathon in his own damn chest.
He’d fought harder matches before.
Taken hits worse than hers.
Burned longer, crashed harder.
But nothing had left him like this.
Like he was vibrating at the edge of something.
Like she was still there.
In his head.
In his muscles.
In the air between the fucking walls.
---
He stood.
Didn’t put on a shirt.
Didn’t care.
He walked.
Right past the training logs.
Right past his boots.
Right past the gloves still sitting outside, picking up her scent.
> Starfruit and fire.
He hated that he recognized it now.
Hated more that he liked it.
It clung to his uniform after drills. Stuck to the mats. Stayed on the sparring gloves she passed back without comment.
She always smelled like she fought clean.
Like she fought honestly.
Like she didn’t flinch from fire—she turned it into strategy.
---
He stepped onto the shared balcony.
Didn’t glance over the divider.
Didn’t have to.
She was there.
He could feel it—
Not her Quirk.
Her presence.
YOU ARE READING
Point of Impact ?Katsuki Bakugo?
FanfictionLegacy isn't inherited. It's earned. And in a world still recovering from war, everyone wants a symbol. Aurelia Ayana Rosier never asked to be a legacy. But when her mentor-Cassie Rosser, America's strongest hero-dies alone over Japanese airspace in...
