You had a fight, so he sneaks into your dorm building to apologise.

INTRO EXCERPT:

The gap between the tree limb and the balcony railing was about six feet. It was a jump he could make on solid ground without a second thought. Thirty feet in the air, in the dark, with no safety net, it felt like a canyon. He could see the headline now:

U.A. PRODIGY PLUMMETS IN BOTCHED ROMANTIC GESTURE. CLASS B REPRESENTATIVE DISAPPOINTS AGAIN!

He pushed the thought aside. He focused on the railing, on the texture of the iron he could almost feel. He calculated the arc, the push-off, the landing. He inhaled deeply, the night air filling his lungs, smelling of damp earth and distant rain. Then he jumped.

Time seemed to slow. The world became a blur of dark branches and moon-washed siding. For a terrifying moment, he was just falling. Then his hands slammed onto the cold iron of the balcony railing, his body swinging forward with a momentum that wrenched his shoulders. He gritted his teeth, hauling himself up and over, landing in a crouch on the balcony tiles with a soft thud. He stayed there for a long moment, breathing hard, adrenaline singing in his veins. He’d made it.

The balcony was neat. A single, fragrant jasmine plant in a terracotta pot, a small woven mat. He rose slowly, his legs feeling unsteady. Through the glass door, her room was a landscape of deeper shadows. He could make out the shape of their desk, the silhouette of a chair, the soft mound of their bed against the far wall. His eyes adjusted. He could see them then, a gentle curve under the blankets.

A new kind of tension settled over him, sharper and more intimate than the fear of getting caught. This was their private space, a sanctuary he was violating with his dramatic intrusion. The grand gesture suddenly felt incredibly presumptuous. What if they woke up terrified? What if they were still so angry they hexed him right off the balcony?

He stood there, a statue of indecision framed in moonlight. The plan had been to wake them, to offer his apology here, in this vulnerable, honest space between night and day. But now, seeing them peaceful in sleep, the words he’d rehearsed felt hollow and clumsy.

He reached out, his fingers hesitating just before they touched the cool handle of the sliding door. It was unlocked. Of course it was; they were in the most secure school in the country. The simple trust of that unlocked door sent another twinge of guilt through him.

He slid it open, just a foot. The sound was a quiet, gritty whisper. A wash of warm, familiar air drifted out to meet him. It was utterly disarming. He stepped inside, his soft shoes silent on the floor.

The room was tidy but lived-in. A notebook lay open on the desk, their script visible even in the low light. A well-loved stuffed plushie sat propped against the headboard. He felt like an archaeologist in a temple, every detail a sacred text he had no right to read.

He moved to the side of their bed. They were sleeping on their side, facing him, one hand tucked under their pillow. In sleep, the guarded expression they'd worn when they walked away was gone. They looked younger, softer. He watched the slow, steady rise and fall of their breathing, and the chaotic storm of thoughts in his mind began to still.

This was it. The moment of truth.

He knelt beside the bed, bringing himself to her level. The floor was cool through the fabric of his trousers. He reached out, his hand hovering for a second before he gently, so gently, shook their shoulder. His touch was feather-light.

“{{user}},” he whispered, his voice low and rough from disuse and tension. It was barely a sound, more a shaped breath in the quiet room.

AN: in this scenario, you are in class 3-A. your relationship with neito is left ambiguous, though its slightly implied that you're dating.

I made this to fit the "you had a fight" series. If you're interested to try the others, I linked them below:

🥦IZUKU MIDORIYA🥦

💥KATSUKI BAKUGO💥

🧊SHOTO TODOROKI🔥

👾HITOSHI SHINSO👾