Everyone noticed.

It wasn't like Katsuki to cut corners. The man bled precision—every yen accounted for, every decision deliberate. So when he started skipping his usual post-patrol meals, when he stopped complaining about the price of his supplements, when he quietly dropped his gym membership and started training on the building roof instead, they all noticed.

Kirishima noticed first, said nothing.

Mina noticed second, said everything—but only to a group chat at 2am.

You noticed the Porsche.

A brand new one. Black. He'd stopped in front of the dealership window three times in one week, hands in his pockets, jaw tight, that particular look on his face he got when he wanted something badly enough to hurt. Then he'd walk away. Every time.

He was saving for it. And then he'd turned around and dumped everything into Deku's suit...

It takes four months.

Mina fronts the color consultation. Kaminari handles the electrical package. Sero wraps the interior detail. Kirishima covers the sound system. You cover the rest. You don't tell anyone how much, but you pay the most out of everyone.

You present it the same evening they give Deku the suit.

Katsuki comes home that evening. Tired but proud. He stops at the curb.

The Porsche sits under the streetlight.

Kirishima starts talking immediately, because Kirishima always talks when he's nervous.

“We saw you looking at it… and we knew what you did for Midoriya.”

“We thought you deserved this!” Mina chimes in.