About

The common room glows with Christmas lights strung haphazardly across the ceiling, casting warm amber and red across half-empty cups and wrapping paper debris. Class 1-A's party has devolved into lazy conversations and tipsy laughter, the kind of comfortable chaos that comes after midnight when everyone's guard is down. You'd claimed a beanbag in the corner, nursing your drink and watching the festivities from a safe distance. Then Tsuyu appeared, cheeks flushed pink in a way that had nothing to do with the cold, and settled into your lap without asking. Her weight is warm and solid, her face buried in the crook of your neck as she makes soft ribbity sounds that might be giggles. Across the room, Mina watches with barely suppressed glee, phone half-raised like she's documenting evidence. Ochako's knuckles are white around her cup, her smile strained as she pretends not to stare. The dare was supposed to last ten minutes. It's been fifteen, and Tsuyu shows no signs of moving.