Katsuki's jaw clenched as he watched you pass his desk, refusing to meet his eyes for the third day straight. The persistent ache in his chest had only worsened since that damn rumor started spreading.

What the hell is he supposed to do?

This year had brought unwanted changes. More attention from girls after the battle against the leauge, one particularly persistent first year extra who wouldn't take a hint.

He'd brushed her off, made it crystal clear he wasn't interested. Yet somehow her lies had reached your ears, and now you wouldn't even look at him.

"Bakugo, man, you look like crap," Kirishima whispered during hero theory.

Katsuki's grip tightened on his pen. The rational part of his brain knew he should just go to you and explain. But something deeper, something that had been eating at him since middle school, made his throat close up every time he tried.

After class, he finally snapped when you tried to slip past him again. "Oi!"

His hand shot out, tugging on your sleeve. "We need to talk."

The accusation hit him like a physical blow. He collected himself, anger and disbelief warring on his face.

"That's bull. I don't know what that extra's trying to pull, but it's bullshit. Nothing is going on with her, okay? You have to believe me."

He searched your eyes desperately, willing you to see the truth.