C H A O S || Katsuki Bakugo x OC

Jiro's smirk lingered as she plopped down on the couch, earbuds dangling around her neck, a mischievous glint in her eyes.

 She stretched out, settling in as if she owned the place, while Mineta, frozen mid-scoop of cereal, gave an exaggerated squeal, nearly spilling milk everywhere.

"Hey! Keep it down!" Kaminari barked, eyes bright behind his glasses, clearly still half-asleep but annoyed enough to raise his voice. 

"Some of us have classes this morning!"

Kyofu crossed the room with a fierce glare, hoodie hanging loosely over her tank top, still tousled from a restless night, hair slightly wild. 

She shot Kaminari a teasing look.

"Relax, Dandere," she mocked, smirking. "We're just having fun."

Bakugo appeared behind Kyofu, arms crossed and scowl firmly in place, but a faint flicker of something unspoken passed through his eyes—maybe concern, maybe something more tender that he'd rather not admit. He cleared his throat loudly, commanding everyone's attention.

"Keep your mouths shut if you don't want a piece of me," Bakugo muttered, voice sharp but with an undertone of protectiveness.

Jiro chuckled, brushing a stray strand of hair behind her ear. "Relax, Bakugo, we're just joking."

Kyofu smirked, shooting him a quick, knowing look. "You look like you want to strangle everyone already."

Bakugo rolled his eyes but did not deny it. Instead, he crossed his arms tighter, trying to mask his unease.

"Sleepover land was... interesting," Kyofu teased softly, nudging him with her elbow. Her voice was light, but there was something more behind it—an intimacy born from shared chaos.

Bakugo's expression flickered for a moment, a tiny waver on his usual tough exterior. "Don't get used to it," he muttered, voice low.

Kyofu's grin widened, sensing his hesitation. "No promises," she said confidently.

Later, in the quiet of the evening—

Kyofu was walking back to her room, headphones in, lost in her own world, when her phone buzzed. She pulled out her earbuds and glanced at the screen:

a message from Bakugo.

Meet me on the roof. Now.

She smirked, feeling a flicker of anticipation, and made her way upstairs. Her heart pounded a little faster than usual, not out of fear but excitement. She was curious. Carefully balancing her bag in one hand, she reached the rooftop and pushed the door open.

The evening air hung cool and heavy as Kyofu emerged onto the rooftop. Bakugo, silhouetted against the city lights, spun around, his expression a volatile mix of frustration and barely suppressed emotion.

"What took you so long?" he barked, instantly negating the softer moment they'd shared earlier. "I don't have all night to stand around playing damsel in distress."

Kyofu's smirk vanished. She hadn't expected a declaration of undying affection, but the abrasive greeting stung nonetheless. She straightened, meeting his gaze directly. "I was walking, Bakugo. Not everyone sprints everywhere like they're about to detonate. You're the one who called me up here. What is it?"

He scrubbed a hand through his hair, pacing agitatedly. "This whole... situation. It's attracting too much attention. Idiots are starting to stare, speculate. It's a distraction."

"So?" Kyofu leaned against the railing, crossing her arms. "Let them stare. You're not exactly known for your subtlety either, Mr. Explodo-Kills."

Bakugo stopped pacing, his eyes narrowing to slits. "This isn't a joke, damn it! This isn't about whether I'm subtle. This is about us. This is about minimizing the bullshit we have to deal with. Are you even listening to me?"

"I am listening, Bakugo," she retorted, her voice hardening. "But all I hear is you worrying about what other people think. Since when do you care?"

"It's not about caring!" he roared, his voice echoing in the confined space. "It's about control! This isn't some game, Kyofu. This is about staying one step ahead. If people know too much, they exploit it. Is that clear enough for you, or do I need to spell it out?"

Kyofu felt a pang of disappointment, a dull ache in her chest. The vulnerability she had glimpsed earlier had vanished, replaced by the familiar, abrasive exterior. "So, what's the plan, then? We start wearing disguises? Stop talking to each other? Because that sounds real attractive."

He glared at her, his jaw tight. "Don't be ridiculous. The plan is... we manage this. We control the narrative."

"And how, pray tell, do we do that?" Kyofu challenged, raising an eyebrow. "By yelling at me on rooftops?"

Bakugo clenched his fists, taking a deep breath to control himself. He knew he was handling this poorly, letting his frustration boil over. He just... didn't know how else to process the swirling, conflicting emotions. "Fine," he growled, his voice lower but still laced with tension. "Maybe I'm not explaining this right."

He paused, struggling to find the right words. The silence stretched, thick with unspoken emotions. Kyofu remained silent, waiting, her expression a mixture of disappointment and a flicker of hope that the real Bakugo would surface again.