The next morning started with chaos—pure, unfiltered chaos.

I woke up to the sound of something crashing in the kitchen. My first thought was that Mom had dropped something, but no, it wasn't her. It was Kaito, the tornado disguised as a human, who had spent the night over after Hawks dropped us off.

"Why are you in the kitchen?" I groaned, stumbling out of bed and rubbing my eyes. My hair was an absolute mess, sticking up in ways that defied both physics and logic.

"I got hungry," Kaito replied matter-of-factly, as if that justified the trail of breadcrumbs, spilled juice, and what looked like... a frying pan? How did he even—?

Mom popped her head into the kitchen, looking far too cheerful for the hour. "Good morning, boys! Kaito, honey, sit down. Let me handle breakfast before you burn the house down."

Kaito sheepishly scratched the back of his head and plopped into a chair at the table. "Sorry, Auntie Inko."

She smiled warmly at him, but her eyes sparkled with a kind of motherly "don't-push-your-luck" energy that I knew too well. "You're forgiven. For now."

I sat down next to him, still groggy. "You know, you're the only person I've ever met who can make more noise than an explosion in the morning."

"That's because I'm a living explosion," Kaito said proudly, puffing out his chest like it was some sort of badge of honor.

After breakfast—which Mom managed to salvage despite Kaito's earlier destruction—we got ready for school. Since Kaito hadn't brought any extra clothes, we had to improvise. Mom lent him one of Dad's old button-up shirts, which didn't quite fit but worked well enough under his uniform jacket.

"Looking sharp," I teased as he struggled to roll up the oversized sleeves.

"Shut up," he grumbled, flicking water at me from the sink.

Once we were both presentable—or as presentable as two teenagers could be after a chaotic morning—we headed out the door. Kaito slung an arm over my shoulder as we walked.

"So," he said, his voice laced with mischief. "I say we make this trip to school interesting."

I raised an eyebrow. "Interesting how?"

"Race you there?" He grinned, already starting to jog backward.

I groaned, but a part of me couldn't resist. "Fine. But no rooftops."

"Deal," he said, turning around and taking off down the sidewalk.

At first, we stuck to the pavement, like responsible citizens. But let's be honest—that didn't last long. Kaito was the first to veer off, hopping onto a low wall and balancing as he jogged.

"Come on, Deku!" he called, waving me over. "Don't be boring!"

"I'm not boring," I muttered, sprinting to catch up. With a quick leap, I joined him on the wall, then vaulted over a bench just because I could.

"Show-off," he teased, but he was laughing.

We kept going, finding creative ways to navigate the neighborhood. Bike racks became hurdles, lampposts were obstacles to spin around, and even the occasional park fence was fair game. It was reckless, sure, but it was also exhilarating.

By the time we neared UA, we were both a sweaty, disheveled mess. My tie was hanging loosely around my neck, my shirt untucked, and Kaito's borrowed shirt looked even worse than when we'd started.

We collapsed onto the grass just outside the gates, laughing so hard we could barely breathe.

"You—" Kaito wheezed, pointing at me, "look like you just got hit by a tornado."

I rolled onto my back, grinning up at the sky. "Speak for yourself. Hawks would ground us for life if he saw us now."

That set him off again, his laughter echoing across the lawn.

Eventually, we dragged ourselves to our feet and stumbled through the gates, still giggling like idiots. A few students gave us odd looks as we walked past, but we didn't care. We were friends, and nothing was going to stop us.