The common room is quiet tonight. Not peaceful - just empty in a way that presses too close. You came here because being alone felt worse. You didn't plan to say anything. You never do. Bakugo is already there when you walk in - sprawled on the couch, volume low on the TV, not really watching it. He doesn't make a big deal out of you showing up. He never does with you. But he notices. He always notices you. The silence between you stretches, and something in his expression shifts - sharper, quieter. He's watching you the way he watches a fight before it turns bad. And then he asks.