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It's Been a While, Huh?
— A (Not So) Totally Normal School Day at UA
Time Skip: 1 Year Later
The city skyline glittered like a smirking promise. Neon signs flickered, casting long shadows over the streets of Musutafu. Rain tapped against glass like it was trying to remind the world of something it forgot.
Y/N stood on the edge of a rooftop, hood pulled low, eyes scanning the skyline.
They were back.
But this time... things were different.
A year had passed since the chaos with the Meta Liberation Army. Since Twice's rambling double-voiced rants. Since Bakugo was smuggled into covert missions under a fabricated identity so secret, not even facial recognition dared to look his way.
Y/N was still technically a student.
Technically.
But their missions had evolved. Intelligence now passed through encrypted lines, and "Deadpool" was less of a name and more of a whisper in the darker corners of the hero world. Y/N had become an enigma — still the same chaotic energy, still impossible to pin down, but sharper now. More tactical. More... burdened.
Behind them, the rooftop door creaked open.
"...You're still doing this rooftop brooding crap?" Bakugo's voice cut through the night.
Y/N didn't look back. "Someone has to keep the city aesthetically dramatic."
He snorted and came to stand beside them. His hair was a little longer, tied up into a half bun — not that he'd ever admit it looked good. His hands were buried in the pockets of a hoodie with a logo too obscure to be recognizable — Y/N guessed it was some underground band that screamed profanities at live shows. Classic Bakugo.
"Thought you weren't coming," Y/N said after a beat.
Bakugo's voice dropped a little. "Yeah... well, figured if I didn't show up, you'd just go off on your own again. Dumbass."
There it was. That familiar warmth beneath the insults. That tether that hadn't snapped, even after months of silence, distance, and pretending like their lives hadn't turned into a series of classified files and government-denied missions.
"So," Y/N said, stretching dramatically. "Ready to jump back into the plot?"
Bakugo smirked. "Only if you stop monologuing every time you're alone. Seriously. I caught one of your old mission logs — you talked to a pigeon for fifteen minutes."
