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Description
The door opens to reveal Eijirou’s grinning face. Katsuki hands him a bottle of wine with a huff before the redhead tackles him with a bear hug.

“Happy holidays, man!” Kirishima releases his friend and allows him into the apartment.

“Meh, whatever”, Katsuki responds unenthusiastically. “You know I’m not too high about New Year parties.”

“You say so because you’re lonely and miserable!” the redhead laughs as he closes the door behind them. Katsuki walks reluctantly into the living room, taking in the wave of people chatting animatedly in little groups. He scans the crowd, spotting familiar faces from their time in the UA: Minetta trying to chat up a girl that looked amusingly disgusted by his attempts; Sero and Kaminari laughing like idiots (like always); Yaoyorozu, Todoroki, and Jirou glaring at them annoyed; Midoriya and Uraraka sitting side by side, awkward red on their faces – Jeez, when are they finally hooking up?!

Katsuki sighs defeated. Every year’s the same; Kirishima is set on maintaining this stupid tradition of annual New Year reunions and no matter how imaginative, vague, or plain aggressive Katsuki’s attempts are at skipping them, the redhead will simply not have it. A sturdy hand slaps him on the back and Eijirou’s grinning face is once again too close for Katsuki’s liking.

“Come on, man! The party is waiting!” Kirishima laughs and urges him on. Katsuki clicks his tongue annoyed, but follows nonetheless. And then he sees her.

What is she doing here? Cold sweat runs down his spine as a train of chilling images of potential future trajectories flash in his mind. He manically looks around in search of an immediate exit strategy: the fire escape? the kitchen window? the walk-in closet that locks from the inside?

Brain gears on fire, he takes a couple of nonchalant backward steps, discretely trying to get out of her line of sight. Every step taking him a tiny bit closer to the safety of the front door, he mentally writes up the excuse that he will have to serve to Kirishima the day after. I guess I’ll have to go with an explosive case of diarrhea.

One last step and he turns to wrap his fingers around the knob that will grant him his precious freedom. But alas, he bumps into a familiar red-tinted face; Kirishima squints at his friend suspiciously.

“Are you going somewhere?”

Katsuki experiences an inner freak out. “Tch, I was just checking if the door was closed.” Eijirou raises an unconvinced eyebrow while Katsuki frantically thinks through a new series of potential exit strategies.

All in vain however, as the sound of his not particularly well liked nickname echoes across the living room: Kacchan!

Terrified, he turns around to face her; the bane of his existence; the UA teacher that made his life a living hell. She’s only mere inches away from him, her breathtakingly beautiful face filling his vision. Plump lips move and for a single moment he’s lost in that horrific sensation that he’s back in his desk in UA, his body trembling with a mixture of insatiable desire and downright defiance of authority – he would never admit any of these feelings though; emotional denial is his second name.

The sounds that roll off her tongue forcibly drag him out of his trance.

“Ah Kacchan, darling! Long time no see! Oh my, you’ve grown so tall and handsome!” Said silky lips morph into an appreciative smile and she grants him a cheeky wink. Blood rushes to his face and he’s about to explode – from embarrassment, fury, or desire, only the gods really know. He opens his mouth to at least attempt to protect whatever shreds of pride he’s got left, but her fingers wrapping around his biceps stop the words on his lips.

“Uh huh, you’ve grown some muscle as well, huh? Good job! Are you still producing those adorable sparks of yours?” Her grin grows wider and he moves one step closer to a raptured aneurism. He hasn’t felt this humiliated since Best Jeanist semi-permanently brushed his hair into a perfect side parting. Teeth grinding together, he lets out an incomprehensive growl. Honestly, this woman will be the death of him.

“Oh dear, you growled! You’re as cute as ever!” He can feel the blood concentrating in this temples; he almost wishes that that extremely dilated vein bursts to take him out of his misery. Her arms wrap around his shoulders and she smothers him against her body. Even though he’s much taller than her, he feels like a child. Her breasts press against his torso and his brain experiences the familiar dichotomy between being outrageously furious and having the biggest boner of his life. Definitely a 15-year-old.

In a last attempt to preserve his dignity, he pushes her away, dangerously explosive sweat covering every inch of his skin.

"You…!” he growls again, but once more he is devastatingly unsuccessful in delivering a death blow –even a tiny burn would be fine with him- as he notices a group of people, obviously with Kirishima in their midst, laughing their asses off.

That’s it. He finally reaches his limit and his hands move upwards without him even noticing. Tiny sparks light up his fingers and he lets the liberating explosion-

Katsuki woke up with a jerk and realised with immense relief that the terrifying encounter had only been an admittedly very bad dream. He got up and took the few steps to the kitchen, trying to steady himself. A quick look at the calendar confirmed that it was the New Year’s day: January 1st.

Recalling the unnerving dream, a single thought passed through his mind: hatsuyume. The first dream of the year is supposed to be prophetic. Superstitious bullshit. He wasn’t even invited to a New Year reunion party.

His thoughts were interrupted by something falling through the letter hole on the door and a fiery red postcard slipped to the floor. He picked it up with apprehension.

To Bakugou Katsuki.

The New Year reunion party will take place tomorrow night.
If you are a man, make sure to attend.

See you tomorrow.
Kirishima Eijirou.

The postcard fell from his hands and Katsuki slid to the floor, cold sweat running down his back, every hope for his future shattered.

Description
The door opens to reveal Eijirou’s grinning face. Katsuki hands him a bottle of wine with a huff before the redhead tackles him with a bear hug.

“Happy holidays, man!” Kirishima releases his friend and allows him into the apartment.

“Meh, whatever”, Katsuki responds unenthusiastically. “You know I’m not too high about New Year parties.”

“You say so because you’re lonely and miserable!” the redhead laughs as he closes the door behind them. Katsuki walks reluctantly into the living room, taking in the wave of people chatting animatedly in little groups. He scans the crowd, spotting familiar faces from their time in the UA: Minetta trying to chat up a girl that looked amusingly disgusted by his attempts; Sero and Kaminari laughing like idiots (like always); Yaoyorozu, Todoroki, and Jirou glaring at them annoyed; Midoriya and Uraraka sitting side by side, awkward red on their faces – Jeez, when are they finally hooking up?!

Katsuki sighs defeated. Every year’s the same; Kirishima is set on maintaining this stupid tradition of annual New Year reunions and no matter how imaginative, vague, or plain aggressive Katsuki’s attempts are at skipping them, the redhead will simply not have it. A sturdy hand slaps him on the back and Eijirou’s grinning face is once again too close for Katsuki’s liking.

“Come on, man! The party is waiting!” Kirishima laughs and urges him on. Katsuki clicks his tongue annoyed, but follows nonetheless. And then he sees her.

What is she doing here? Cold sweat runs down his spine as a train of chilling images of potential future trajectories flash in his mind. He manically looks around in search of an immediate exit strategy: the fire escape? the kitchen window? the walk-in closet that locks from the inside?

Brain gears on fire, he takes a couple of nonchalant backward steps, discretely trying to get out of her line of sight. Every step taking him a tiny bit closer to the safety of the front door, he mentally writes up the excuse that he will have to serve to Kirishima the day after. I guess I’ll have to go with an explosive case of diarrhea.

One last step and he turns to wrap his fingers around the knob that will grant him his precious freedom. But alas, he bumps into a familiar red-tinted face; Kirishima squints at his friend suspiciously.

“Are you going somewhere?”

Katsuki experiences an inner freak out. “Tch, I was just checking if the door was closed.” Eijirou raises an unconvinced eyebrow while Katsuki frantically thinks through a new series of potential exit strategies.

All in vain however, as the sound of his not particularly well liked nickname echoes across the living room: Kacchan!

Terrified, he turns around to face her; the bane of his existence; the UA teacher that made his life a living hell. She’s only mere inches away from him, her breathtakingly beautiful face filling his vision. Plump lips move and for a single moment he’s lost in that horrific sensation that he’s back in his desk in UA, his body trembling with a mixture of insatiable desire and downright defiance of authority – he would never admit any of these feelings though; emotional denial is his second name.

The sounds that roll off her tongue forcibly drag him out of his trance.

“Ah Kacchan, darling! Long time no see! Oh my, you’ve grown so tall and handsome!” Said silky lips morph into an appreciative smile and she grants him a cheeky wink. Blood rushes to his face and he’s about to explode – from embarrassment, fury, or desire, only the gods really know. He opens his mouth to at least attempt to protect whatever shreds of pride he’s got left, but her fingers wrapping around his biceps stop the words on his lips.

“Uh huh, you’ve grown some muscle as well, huh? Good job! Are you still producing those adorable sparks of yours?” Her grin grows wider and he moves one step closer to a raptured aneurism. He hasn’t felt this humiliated since Best Jeanist semi-permanently brushed his hair into a perfect side parting. Teeth grinding together, he lets out an incomprehensive growl. Honestly, this woman will be the death of him.

“Oh dear, you growled! You’re as cute as ever!” He can feel the blood concentrating in this temples; he almost wishes that that extremely dilated vein bursts to take him out of his misery. Her arms wrap around his shoulders and she smothers him against her body. Even though he’s much taller than her, he feels like a child. Her breasts press against his torso and his brain experiences the familiar dichotomy between being outrageously furious and having the biggest boner of his life. Definitely a 15-year-old.

In a last attempt to preserve his dignity, he pushes her away, dangerously explosive sweat covering every inch of his skin.

"You…!” he growls again, but once more he is devastatingly unsuccessful in delivering a death blow –even a tiny burn would be fine with him- as he notices a group of people, obviously with Kirishima in their midst, laughing their asses off.

That’s it. He finally reaches his limit and his hands move upwards without him even noticing. Tiny sparks light up his fingers and he lets the liberating explosion-

Katsuki woke up with a jerk and realised with immense relief that the terrifying encounter had only been an admittedly very bad dream. He got up and took the few steps to the kitchen, trying to steady himself. A quick look at the calendar confirmed that it was the New Year’s day: January 1st.

Recalling the unnerving dream, a single thought passed through his mind: hatsuyume. The first dream of the year is supposed to be prophetic. Superstitious bullshit. He wasn’t even invited to a New Year reunion party.

His thoughts were interrupted by something falling through the letter hole on the door and a fiery red postcard slipped to the floor. He picked it up with apprehension.

To Bakugou Katsuki.

The New Year reunion party will take place tomorrow night.
If you are a man, make sure to attend.

See you tomorrow.
Kirishima Eijirou.

The postcard fell from his hands and Katsuki slid to the floor, cold sweat running down his back, every hope for his future shattered.