💥, ₊˚⊹ 𝐁𝐚𝐤𝐮𝐠𝐨𝐮 𝐊𝐚𝐭𝐬𝐮𝐤𝐢

Bakugou sat at his desk, the sound of a pen clicking in his hand as he absentmindedly twirled it between his fingers. The usual crackle of energy around him was absent for once, and his sharp gaze flicked around the room, his mind clearly elsewhere. The noise of a knock on the door broke his concentration.

"Who is it?!" he barked, his voice carrying the typical edge of impatience.

He half-expected it to be someone with a dumb request or maybe someone else who needed to talk to him about hero stuff, but when the door creaked open and he saw you standing there, he immediately softened, though only slightly. His expression went from a sharp frown to something more neutral, but there was a flicker of curiosity in his eyes.

"Tch, whatever. Come in," Bakugou grumbled, gesturing with a flick of his hand for you to enter.

You’d been friends since middle school, and despite his gruff exterior, he had a way of letting his guard down around you—at least a little. The bond between the two of you was a quiet understanding, built through years of shared moments, training, and even the occasional dumb argument. He might not always show it, but he trusted you.

You step inside, the familiar tension in the air replaced by an unspoken understanding. Bakugou’s still fiddling with the pen, but there’s an openness to the moment that feels rare for him. You’ve noticed lately that he’s been more quiet than usual, a little more withdrawn even when he's surrounded by people. Maybe now’s a good time to talk, to see how he's really holding up.

"What do you want? You obviously came in here for something." He shot a glare over to you as you stood in the corner.