The Bakugo home was surprisingly normal.

  Located in a quiet residential neighborhood, it was a modest two-story house with a small garden that Masaru clearly took pride in maintaining. Nothing about it screamed "home of the explosive hero-in-training."

  "Guest room is upstairs, second door on the right," Mitsuki said as they entered, immediately heading for the kitchen. "Katsuki, show her where everything is. And both of you, wash up before dinner! You smell like smoke and sweat!"

  "We were just attacked by villains!" Katsuki protested.

  "And? Does that mean you can skip basic hygiene? Move it!"

  Katsuki grumbled but led Boa upstairs. The house's interior was warm and lived-in—family photos on the walls, comfortable furniture, the faint smell of cooking that suggested this was a home where people actually lived, not just existed.

  "That's my room," Katsuki said, pointing to a door covered in "Keep Out" signs. "Bathroom's there. Guest room's here."

  He opened the door to reveal a simple but clean room—bed, desk, closet, window overlooking the garden.

  "It's nice," Boa said. "Thank you for... for this. Inviting me."

  "Don't thank me. I wasn't gonna leave you alone after everything." He rubbed the back of his neck, suddenly awkward. "Besides, my mom would've killed me if I let you go back to an empty apartment."

  "Still. I appreciate it."

  They stood in the doorway, both aware they were alone in a house together for the first time, both uncertain how to navigate this new dynamic.

  "I should shower," Boa said. "I do smell like smoke."

  "Yeah. Me too. I'll go after you." Katsuki turned to leave, then paused. "Boa? I meant what I said. About us being together. My parents knowing. All of it."

  "I know you did."

  "Good. Because tomorrow, when the media storm hits and everyone's talking about the attack, they're gonna ask questions. About why I fought Dabi. About who was with me. And I'm not gonna hide what we are."

  Boa felt warmth spread through her chest. "Neither will I."

  "Okay then." He nodded, satisfied, and headed to his room.

  Boa closed the guest room door and leaned against it, processing everything. She was in Katsuki's house. His parents knew they were together. She'd fought a League villain and survived. Nothing about her life resembled what it had been a year ago.

  After showering and changing into borrowed clothes—one of Katsuki's old shirts and sweatpants that were too big on her—Boa headed downstairs to find the family gathered in the kitchen.

  Mitsuki was cooking with practiced efficiency while Masaru set the table. Katsuki was already there, also in casual clothes, his hair still damp.

  "There you are!" Mitsuki said cheerfully. "Hope you like spicy curry because that's what we're having!"

  "I'm not picky."

  "Good! Unlike someone—" she shot a look at Katsuki "—who complained about every vegetable for his entire childhood."

  "I didn't complain! I had preferences!"

  "You threw broccoli at the wall."

  "I was four!"

  Boa found herself almost smiling at their banter. This was what families were like—loud, loving, comfortable enough to tease each other.

  Dinner was chaotic but warm. Mitsuki asked a thousand questions about UA, the training camp, Boa's Quirk. Masaru was quieter but kind, asking about her costume design and whether she had any hobbies outside hero training.

  "I read," Boa said. "Mostly hero history and tactical analysis books."

  "All work and no play," Mitsuki said. "You and Katsuki really are a match. Both of you are too serious."

  "I'm not too serious!" Katsuki protested.

  "You organize your manga by publication date and color-code your training schedules."

  "That's called being organized!"

  "That's called being obsessive, honey."

  Boa found herself genuinely smiling now, the warmth of this family dynamic washing over her.

  After dinner, Masaru excused himself to his home office, leaving Mitsuki, Katsuki, and Boa in the living room.

  "So," Mitsuki said, her tone shifting to something more serious, "the attack today. Are you two okay? Really okay?"

  "We're fine," Katsuki said.

  "I'm asking Hancock. Katsuki always says he's fine even when he's not." Mitsuki looked at Boa directly. "You engaged a villain. Fought him. That's traumatic, even for hero students."

  Boa considered lying, maintaining her usual emotional distance. But something about Mitsuki's genuine concern broke through her defenses.

  "I was afraid," she admitted quietly. "Dabi's flames were stronger than anything we'd faced. If Katsuki hadn't been there, if we hadn't worked together, I don't know if I would have survived."

  "But you did work together. And you both survived." Mitsuki's expression was warm. "That's what partners do. They cover each other's weaknesses."

  This tale has been unlawfully lifted without the author's consent. Report any appearances on Amazon.

  "Mom," Katsuki said, his ears reddening, "can you not—"

  "I'm serious, brat. You two clearly care about each other. You fight well together. And from what the news is reporting, you saved other students from being targeted." She looked at both of them. "I'm proud of you. Both of you. But I'm also worried. The League of Villains is escalating, and you're both clearly on their radar now."

  "We can handle ourselves," Katsuki said.

  "I know you can. But promise me you'll be careful. That you'll look out for each other." Her voice cracked slightly. "I already almost lost you once at that USJ place. I can't... just promise me."

  "I promise, Mom."

  "Boa?"

  "I promise," Boa said. "We'll be careful."

  Mitsuki nodded, satisfied but still visibly emotional. "Good. Now, I'm going to bed. You two can stay up if you want, but keep it down. And Katsuki—guest room door stays open if you visit."

  "MOM! We're not—I wasn't planning—"

  "Uh-huh. Sure. Good night!" She disappeared upstairs, leaving them alone.

  Katsuki covered his face with his hands. "I'm sorry. She's mortifying."

  "She cares about you. About us." Boa sat beside him on the couch. "It's nice. Having someone worry."

  "You really didn't have anyone? Before UA?"

  "My father left when I was six. My mother died during childbirth. I've been alone since." She looked at her hands. "I told myself I didn't need anyone. That needing people was weakness."

  "And now?"

  "Now I realize I was wrong. Or maybe not wrong, but... incomplete." She turned to look at him. "You changed that. You and the class. You made me understand that strength can come from connection, not just isolation."

  Katsuki was quiet for a moment. "I never had to be alone. I've always had my parents, had Deku following me around—even if I hated it. But I still chose isolation because I thought needing people meant I wasn't strong enough on my own."

  "We're both learning," Boa said.

  "Yeah. Together." He reached over and took her hand. "Stay here tonight. Tomorrow, we'll figure out everything else. But tonight, just... stay."

  "I'm not going anywhere."

  They sat together in the quiet living room, hands linked, processing the trauma of the day and the comfort of being safe, together, with people who cared.

  Eventually, exhaustion caught up with them. Katsuki walked Boa to the guest room, lingering in the doorway.

  "If you need anything—nightmares, can't sleep, whatever—my room's right there."

  "I'll be fine."

  "I know. But the offer stands." He hesitated, then leaned in and kissed her forehead—gentle, protective. "Good night, Boa."

  "Good night, Katsuki."

  She closed the door and climbed into bed, staring at the ceiling. Despite everything—the attack, the danger, the uncertainty—she felt safer here than she had in her own apartment in months.

  For the first time in nine years, she wasn't alone in the dark.

  The next morning brought chaos.

  The League's attack on the training camp was front-page news everywhere. Video footage from security cameras showed villains attacking, students evacuating, and—prominently—Boa and Katsuki engaging Dabi.

  Boa's phone had dozens of missed calls and messages when she checked it: from classmates, from Uwabami's agency, from media outlets requesting interviews.

  "Ignore them," Katsuki said at breakfast, his own phone apparently experiencing similar bombardment. "UA's gonna make an official statement. We don't need to talk to reporters."

  "The Hero Public Safety Commission might want statements from us," Boa said, scrolling through official-looking emails. "We engaged a known villain directly."

  "Let them want. We gave our reports to Aizawa. That's enough."

  Mitsuki appeared with breakfast—a spread of rice, grilled fish, miso soup, and pickled vegetables. "Eat up. You'll need energy for whatever today brings."

  "What's that supposed to mean?" Katsuki asked suspiciously.

  "It means UA called. There's a meeting at noon for all students and parents involved in the attack. Mandatory attendance." She sat down with her own plate. "They're discussing security measures and next steps."

  The meeting was held in UA's main auditorium, heavily secured with pro heroes stationed at every entrance. All of Class 1-A was present with their families—except Boa, who sat with the Bakugos, and Todoroki, whose father Endeavor loomed nearby with characteristic intensity.

  Principal Nezu took the stage, his small form somehow commanding attention.

  "Thank you all for coming on short notice. I want to address several critical matters regarding yesterday's attack." His usually cheerful demeanor was serious. "First, the students. All of you showed remarkable courage and restraint. You followed evacuation protocols, protected each other, and those who engaged villains did so to protect their classmates. We're proud of you."

  A smattering of applause from the parents.

  "Second, security. The League of Villains obtained information about the training camp's location and timing. We're conducting a full investigation into how this breach occurred. Until we have answers, all off-campus activities are suspended indefinitely."

  Murmurs of concern rippled through the auditorium.

  "Third, and most importantly—the League has demonstrated specific interest in certain students." Nezu's gaze swept across the room. "We have reason to believe they're targeting students with powerful Quirks for potential recruitment or neutralization. Young Bakugo was explicitly named as a target during the attack."

  All eyes turned to Katsuki, who scowled and slouched lower in his seat.

  "As such, we're implementing enhanced protection protocols for at-risk students. This includes modified schedules, escort requirements, and in some cases, relocation to secure housing."

  "Relocation?!" Mitsuki stood up. "You want to take my son away?"

  "Not take—protect," Nezu said calmly. "And only if you consent. We're offering the option of UA dormitory housing with 24/7 pro hero security for students the League has shown interest in."

  "I'm not hiding," Katsuki said loudly. "If the League wants me, let them come. I'll destroy them."

  "Young Bakugo, that's exactly the attitude that concerns us," All Might said, stepping forward. "You're strong, yes. But you're not ready to face the League alone. None of you are. That's why we're taking these precautions."

  The meeting continued for another hour—discussions of security protocols, therapy resources for students experiencing trauma, plans for resuming classes. Through it all, Boa felt the weight of multiple gazes on her and Katsuki.

  They'd become targets. Not just students, but active pieces in the League's game.

  After the meeting, as families dispersed, Aizawa pulled Boa and Katsuki aside.

  "Both of you engaged Dabi directly. The Hero Public Safety Commission wants to interview you about the encounter—his tactics, his Quirk capabilities, anything that might help in the investigation."

  "When?" Boa asked.

  "Tomorrow, 2 PM, at commission headquarters. I'll escort you both." His expression was grave. "They're also going to ask about your decision to engage rather than evacuate. Be prepared to justify your actions."

  "We saved students from being abducted," Katsuki said.

  "I know. And I've stated as much in my report. But the commission is... concerned about students taking initiative in combat situations. They may push for disciplinary action."

  "That's bullshit!" Katsuki exploded. "We did the right thing!"

  "I agree. But the commission has to balance encouraging heroism with discouraging recklessness." Aizawa looked at Boa. "Your Slave Arrow technique was effective against Dabi. They're going to want to know exactly what it can do. Full capabilities, limitations, everything."

  Boa nodded slowly. Revealing her complete arsenal to the commission meant it would be on record, potentially accessible to anyone with the right clearance. But refusing would look suspicious.

  "I'll tell them what they need to know."

  "Good. Both of you—get some rest today. Tomorrow's going to be intense."

  As they left UA, Boa noticed several pro heroes shadowing them—discrete but visible protection. The League's interest had made them valuable targets in need of constant security.

  "This is gonna be our life now," Katsuki said as they climbed into the Bakugo family car. "Bodyguards, interviews, everyone watching us."

  "Are you okay with that?"

  "Hell no. But it's better than letting the League think they can intimidate us." His jaw set. "We keep training. Keep getting stronger. And when they come again—because they will—we'll be ready to end this."

  Boa looked at him—at his determination, his refusal to be cowed by threats. And she felt her own resolve strengthen.

  "Together," she said.

  "Together," he agreed.

  The League of Villains had made a mistake targeting them. They'd pushed two students who refused to break, who only got stronger when challenged.

  And eventually, that mistake would cost them everything.