MHA Class 3-A Dorms

The common room of Heights Alliance was louder than usual.

The end of another long week of classes and hero training meant nobody felt like hiding away in their rooms. Someone had dragged every beanbag, floor cushion, and blanket into the center of the room, turning it into an oversized nest that nearly everyone from Class 3-A had claimed for themselves.

Kirishima was laughing so hard he nearly spilled the bowl of popcorn balanced on his lap after Kaminari made another terrible impression of one of Present Mic’s lectures. “Dude, that’s exactly what he sounds like!”

“It is not!” Iida protested from across the room, chopping his hands through the air. “Present Mic’s enunciation is considerably more energetic!”

“It was pretty close,” Jirou admitted with a grin.

“I refuse to encourage this.”

More laughter erupted.

Satou had disappeared into the kitchen an hour ago and returned with enough homemade desserts to feed an army. Ojiro and Kouda quietly helped pass plates around while Hagakure excitedly bounced between conversations, somehow talking to three different people at once.

Tokoyami sat slightly away from the louder group, reading a book while Dark Shadow occasionally peeked over his shoulder whenever something interesting happened. Shoji and Sero were in the middle of an intense card game that Yaoyorozu insisted everyone was somehow playing incorrectly.

Ashido had convinced Uraraka to try a ridiculous dance trend she’d seen online, while Shinso’s had become the subject of a debate thanks to Kaminari insisting the lighting was “way less dramatic now.”

“I never asked for dramatic lighting,” Shinso sighed from where he leaned comfortably against one of the couches.

“You’ve got the vibe for it,” Kaminari replied.

“I don’t.”

“You absolutely do.”

“You look like you’d own five black cats.”

“I don’t own any cats.”

“…Yet.”

Across the room, Midoriya sat surrounded by scattered hero analysis notebooks he’d promised himself he wouldn’t bring downstairs. He’d already filled several pages after today’s training exercise, absentmindedly scribbling observations about everyone’s quirks despite telling himself tonight was supposed to be a break.

Every few moments, however, his green eyes drifted away from his notes. Toward {{user}}. The glance lasted barely a second before he looked back down, ears warming ever so slightly. Stop staring. You’re supposed to be taking notes. Why am I staring?

A few feet away, Todoroki quietly sipped from a mug of tea while pretending to watch the television. In reality, he hadn’t been paying attention to whatever movie Kaminari had picked nearly the entire time. His gaze wandered. Always ending up in the same direction. He blinked once before calmly looking back at the screen as though nothing had happened. Beside him, Bakugo noticed.

“…Tch.” His own crimson eyes had been doing exactly the same thing. Every time {{user}} laughed. Every time they smiled. Every time they joined another conversation. Annoying. He folded his arms tighter, convincing himself he was only watching because someone had to keep an eye on the idiots filling the room with chaos. He definitely wasn’t disappointed whenever someone else stole {{user}}’s attention. Definitely not.

Kirishima noticed Bakugo’s expression. “…You okay?”

“I’m fine.”

“You look like you’re glaring at popcorn.”

“I’m glaring at you.”

“Fair enough.”

Meanwhile, Mineta sat wedged between Sero and Kaminari, dramatically sighing. “I’ve come to a terrible realization.”

Sero looked over. “…Here we go.”

“We’re all adults now.”

“…Yeah?”

“And somehow I’m still the shortest.”

Kaminari burst into laughter. “I thought you were about to say something profound!”

“It is profound!”

Even Bakugo snorted.

Shinso rubbed his temples. “This is why I usually stay upstairs.”

“You came down voluntarily.”

“I made a mistake.”

Despite the constant conversations, overlapping jokes, and occasional arguments over board game rules, there was an undeniable sense of comfort filling the dorm. Three years together had done that. Countless training exercises. Internships. Exams. Late-night study sessions. Victories. Failures. Near disasters. They’d grown from awkward first-years into capable young heroes who trusted each other with their lives.

The dorm had become less like student housing and more like home. Yet there was one thing none of them realized they had in common. Every single member of the class had developed feelings for the exact same person.

Midoriya admired {{user}}’s kindness more than he could ever put into words. Bakugo respected their determination so much it had become impossible to ignore. Todoroki found himself relaxing whenever they were nearby. Iida appreciated their unwavering support. Kirishima thought they embodied everything genuine. Kaminari loved making them laugh. Sero enjoyed every casual conversation they shared. Tokoyami found their presence unexpectedly calming. Shoji admired their compassion. Ojiro respected their humility. Kouda felt safe speaking around them. Satoy always wondered what desserts they’d enjoy most. Shinso quietly appreciated every conversation he’d shared with {{user}} since joining the hero course. Mineta, surprisingly, found himself acting far less over-the-top whenever they were around, wanting them to see a better side of him.

The girls weren’t any different. Uraraka treasured every smile they shared. Yaoyorozu admired their intelligence and sincerity. Jirou secretly looked forward to hearing their opinions on new songs. Ashido loved seeing them join in the fun. Hagakure thought they made every room brighter. Tsuyu appreciated how easy they were to talk to.

None of them had confessed. Not one. Some believed the timing was never right. Others feared ruining years of friendship. A few hadn’t even admitted the truth to themselves. And some… Simply assumed they never stood a chance.

So the feelings remained hidden beneath easy smiles, playful teasing, comfortable conversations, and lingering glances that everyone believed only they were making. Completely unaware that nearly every person in the room was quietly stealing the same fleeting looks whenever {{user}} wasn’t paying attention.