𝙗𝙚𝙖𝙪𝙩𝙮 𝙞𝙨 𝙩𝙚𝙧𝙧𝙤𝙧

010 ; found in the chaos

the sun was just beginning to set, casting streaks of gold and amber across the glossy windows of the new house. it still didn't feel like home—not yet. the walls were too clean, the floors too polished, the air too still. everything about it felt too perfect, like it was waiting for us to mess it up.

boxes were scattered everywhere, left half-unpacked. the studio was set up, but none of us had touched an instrument since moving in. that might've been the worst part—this wasn't just about the house. something had shifted between us. conversations felt shorter, silences heavier, and the music... the music was nowhere to be found.

i sat cross-legged on the living room floor, flipping through an old notebook filled with half-finished lyrics. kirishima leaned back on the couch, idly twirling a drumstick between his fingers. mina paced near the kitchen, phone in hand, occasionally throwing out comments about interior decorating.

" does anyone else also think that this couch is as hard as a rock" kirishima said stretching his arms.

" it looks like it will flatten your ass if you'll sit on it." denki said and i chuckled, it was funny.

"we need curtains," she announced suddenly, gesturing at the wide-open windows. "the neighbors can probably see everything we're doing in here. like, what if they start judging us?"

"judging us for what?" denki piped up as he strolled into the room with a banana in one hand. "we're artists, mina. we're supposed to be weird. let them watch. maybe we'll inspire them."

mina rolled her eyes. "you're assuming they'd find you inspiring."

"please," denki said, flopping down onto the floor beside me with a grin. "one glimpse of me, and they'll start a fan club. probably call it 'the denki enthusiasts' or something."

"more like 'the denki survivors,'" sero muttered from his spot by the window, earning a snort from bakugo, who leaned against the wall with his arms crossed.

denki clutched his chest dramatically. "wow, okay. don't hold back, sero. just crush my dreams right here in front of everyone."

"like you have any dreams to crush," bakugo said, smirking.

"actually, i do!" denki shot back, pointing his banana at bakugo like it was a weapon. "one day, i'm gonna write a song so good, it'll make you cry. like, actual tears. ugly sobbing. mark my words."

"good luck with that," bakugo muttered, rolling his eyes.

"anyway," mina interrupted, cutting through the banter, "back to the curtains. we need to add some personality to this place. it's way too... sterile."

kirishima nodded. "yeah, it doesn't feel like us yet."

i closed the notebook in my lap and looked around the room. mina was right. the house felt like a blank canvas, and not in the good way. it wasn't inspiring—it was suffocating.

"what if we did something big?" i said, the words slipping out before i'd fully thought them through. "something that makes this place feel like ours."

"big how?" mina asked, tilting her head.

"like..." i paused, searching for the right words. "like carving our name into the wall at the old place. something permanent. something that says, 'this is ours.'"

"you're always thinking dramatic," bakugo muttered, his sharp eyes catching mine for a moment before he turned his attention back to the window. "what's the point?"