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Chapter Text

Somewhere between ten and twenty meters into the atmosphere, Bakugou Katsuki realized his helplessness. Perhaps his blasts could return him to a comfortable distance from the ground, but for that moment, he would have preferred to use that energy in a more constructive manner and aim it at his assailant - Uraraka Ochako. He should have put her in her place when he had the chance.

Then, Bakugou's eyes met with hers. Amongst the blonde's barking and the roars of laughter from his classmates below, the cacophony faded into his stark realization. Uraraka's smug smile shined up at him with a haughty taunt. She was in power from the moment she shoved him into the air, and there were few options he could do to give him the advantage in a fight. However, he envied her position, and as he stayed suspended, he wished for her advantage.

Explosions could not have possibly incited the degree of futility that anti-gravity did. Eventually, his opponents could more than likely find some kind of pattern, but this feeling - his stomach turned in his gut like some kind of painfully slow roller coaster.

Before teachers returned, she decided to give him relief - but not without the last laugh. When she increased gravity's pull on him with a simple hand sign, she made sure that he would be light enough to catch in her arms. And so, she did. "Sorry," she apologized, "you were pickin' a fight with Deku, so I had to do something." Naturally, the gesture earned another burst of laughs from her peers.

"I'm gonna blast your fucking face off, fucker! Put me down!" he shouted.

When Uraraka finally released him, she turned around to Deku who sweat bullets and put his hands up slightly below his chin. The anti-gravity girl always found his nervous gesticulations endearing. He was always modest and kind towards everyone - already, a true hero. She smiled, "Where do you wanna eat lunch today?" Surely, he could have handled himself, but she didn't mind having a bit of fun with his long-term tormentor.

Satisfied, the crowd that had swarmed the scene dispersed to their desired corners of the campus for food at the same time that a teacher noticed the commotion. Unfortunately, that meant that Bakugou had to refrain from seeking his revenge at that moment. Lucky for her, too! He would have destroyed her.

Midoriya didn't want to anger his former childhood friend. While he thoroughly appreciated Uraraka's heroic deed, he would have spared Bakugou the humiliation. Fortunately, the bellicose boy had remained pensive above the ground instead of attacking everyone in sight. While he had made headway with his integrity since entering U.A., that particular moment signified a profound mark of maturity.

Iida grinned and touted Uraraka's bravery as he patted her shoulders, "Your courage knows no bounds, Uraraka."

Whether or not Uraraka and Midoriya were aware, Iida like the rest of their class implored their relationship. Since they adored Midoriya, they wanted him to be with someone like Ochako - a sweet, delightful cutie that had been by his side since the first day of school. Within the insufferably chaste classroom, they yearned for the class sweethearts to realize their feelings for each other and take the plunge into a fruitful relationship.

So then, witnessing what they saw as a grand, romantic gesture only heralded the monumental confession that would cement a timeless romantic bond.

Well, everyone cheered for them except for Bakugou who had been indifferent up until that day, and, when grazed by the objectively endearing display, he developed an acrid taste of revulsion that stuck with him for the remainder of the day.

"Let's sit by the tree outside. It's a nice day, right?" suggested Uraraka to her group of friends as she led the way around the corner.

Her male companions gleefully followed.

Midoriya enjoyed the warm air that Uraraka carried with her. Her encouragement had nurtured him since his beginning as a hero-in-training. Without her, he was uncertain how he would have developed into the person he was at that point. Somehow, the rumors and sentiments of the class regarding his friendship with Uraraka hadn't reached him. Maybe he had been too wrapped in his personal goals to pay much heed to the future of their friendship.

For the time, he enjoyed the seconds one by one.

Bakugou mumbled and snarled under his breath since the infuriating incident. He incinerated his lunch before he could finish it, but that was FINE! He wasn't hungry anyway - not with the sickening image of that girl on his mind. In fact, her smarmy smirk burned into the foundation of his minds and exploded and expanded into his dangerous fixation.

Kirishima thought he could allow the rage to gradually leave Bakugou's body by staying quiet. For most of that year, the bomber man had made progress with managing his destructive anger. However, that day was different, and he had no idea why. Perhaps the most confounding mystery of his scuffle with Uravity was how he didn't put up much of a fight. True, they weren't on the battlefield, but typically, Bakugou would have put more effort into somehow retaliating.

Bakugou recalled the fluttering in his abdomen accompanied by the heated bursts in his chest as he stared down into her wide, brown eyes. And, no matter how many times he violently shook his head, the sensations clung to him. This situation had gotten out of hand and became more complex than he could comprehend in one sitting. Maybe, he had witnessed first-hand the helplessness that she could incite in a foe.

Then, his great epiphany arose from beyond the horizon of his despair and brightened his outlook. He had heard about the concept of quirk marriages - two people with quirks could conceive a child with an unprecedented quirk. Naturally, since Bakugou aimed for the best in every aspect of his life, marrying for power was the only option he saw at that naive stage in his young life.

Rejuvenated was his hunger but not for the lunch that he carelessly disintegrated. From that point, he mused over his fortuitous brush with fate and voraciously anticipated the inevitable.

That onset of humility and infirmity must have meant one thing and one thing alone - that anti-gravity power was destined to merge with his future.

He flashed his sinister grin as he unleashed a notebook from his satchel and slammed it to the table before him.

"W-What are you doing?" questioned Kirishima. There was a huge chance the blond couldn't hear him through the thick, malicious air.

Once his pen hit the paper, he didn't lift it for the rest of lunch period and the entirety of class. The logistics of their powers came together as he sketched out the sweet melody of raining destruction. Nebulaboom! Supernova Destruction! No, Starbomber! The ideas flooded pages of his notebook while he sat through the remainder of his lectures.

By the end of the school day, he had built the necessary resolve to share his intentions with Uraraka herself.

"Round-face," he addressed her immediately following the bell. "Meet me down in the courtyard of the dorms in an hour." Although he could have said what he wanted to in that instance, he had to explain his logical conclusion and that would require food in the interim.

Uraraka glanced over her shoulder and had to do a double-take to make sure that he was talking to her. "Uh, okay," she replied. Naturally, she assumed that he wanted a rematch of some kind. Maybe a respectable spar. However, there was an uncanny sense of calm about his aura that hadn't been present earlier that day. She shivered before she walked away with her group of friends.

He wasn't going to try to kill her, was he?

The rain had been falling all afternoon since lunch. Bakugou's soaked shoulders failed to slump as he waited from the time he retrieved a new, late lunch. She hadn't shown up yet. The weather may have dampened him and all his clothes, but it hadn't dampened his determination!

Soon, the rain paused and allowed for sunlight to pass through the tree that he sat beneath.

After having forgotten about the entire agreement, Uraraka spotted the angry young man through a window from the cozy, warm dorms. For some reason, she assumed the weather would have deterred him. Rain would have surely subdued his quirk. Didn't he need sweat or something? And, he wasn't the type to give her such an advantage. Either way, the rain had ceased.

She sighed and made her way down the stairs and to the courtyard against her better judgment. At that point, she would have understood if he lunged at her. "Sorry," she apologized. "I forgot that you said you wanted to fight. I don't really wanna get in trouble, okay?"

Uraraka at least respected Bakugou. She trusted him enough to ally with him in times of need, but she would never even trust him to watch her abandoned belongings. She wouldn't trust him with much information, either. Definitely, she knew that she couldn't trust him to treat Deku well. Maybe she could have also apologized again for sending him into the air. Everyone knew Bakugou's fragile pride could break under innocuous circumstances.

But, yes, she at least respected him - for whatever reason.

"I'm sorry for earlier, too. I won't do that again unless we're in a fight," she vowed with an unnerved smile.

Jumping to his feet, he disregarded every word she may have said and began, "You think you can prance around from here on out like I'm some pathetic wimp and juggle me like I'm one of your cheap, shitty circus tricks? Never again, round-face! You're going fucking down, and you're mine now, got that? From this day on, you focus on me because I'm not holding back, and you're not going to run away from me either."

What was he saying? She tilted her head after that vehement monolog. "Uh," stammered Uraraka, "So, do you wanna fight?"

"Give me a break," scoffed Bakugou. "This isn't some pathetic question. I don't know who the fuck you think I am. I'm telling you what's going to happen."

Was he saying that he wanted to fight later? She bit her lip and slowly backed away. He certainly was not being clear, or maybe, she didn't understand his language. "'Kay," replied Uraraka. "I'll see you later then?" She limply raised the palm of her hand to wave goodbye despite her uncertainty on what exactly he said.

When he didn't respond and remained still with his fuming nose in the air, she slowly shuffled off to the dorms.

"What was that about?" asked Midoriya when Uraraka returned.

"I dunno. I couldn't really tell what he was sayin'," she shrugged before they joined up with Iida.

So then, Bakugou knew that he had cemented his future and the vitality his lineage with ease. He could go back to training to become the world's top hero. However, he found her behavior following their encounter to be rather obnoxious. There was a fine line between overly chummy behavior and a flippantly distant demeanor, and on that fine line, was the satisfactory reaction that Bakugou expected.

Of course, if she thought his explanation meant they were suddenly friends, he would push her away from him. But, that never fucking happened even once. He didn't have the time or the emotional intelligence to contemplate his sentiments. Oftentimes, he'd assumed that he either felt anger or frustration. The possibility that he could have wanted her closer failed to cross his mind.

He wanted her under him. And, naturally, he was not capable of understanding that phrase as a double-entendre.

All in all, he expected a simple acknowledgment from time to time. Why did he expect that? He had no time to think about that shit all day. The fact of the matter was, she wasn't giving it to him!

The important and most angering aspect of this situation was the issue that she hung out with that damn dork and his nerdy friend day in and day out. A few weeks passed, and she repeated the same worn out joke of avoiding him. Was she taunting him yet again? Did she doubt his capability? No, she looked down at him and mocked his entire proposition! He didn't have the time or energy to dwell on this for too long, and so, he needed to address the issue as soon as possible.

Indifferent to his witnesses, Bakugou took a stand once Uraraka blew the final fuse one day by bumping into his desk without a simple apology. Accompanying the cry of the bell, Bakugou roared, "If we're going to get married, then you can't dance around with that nerd."

Of course, that spark of drama caught the eye of every one of his classmates. "Married? What are they talking about?" murmured various voices as they stopped to spectate the scene.

"What?" gasped Midoriya. Did he miss something?

"I don't know what he's talkin' about!" declared Uraraka as her face colored red. Where did that come from? And, why did he have to say something that stupid in front of Midoriya? She shivered beneath the gaze of everyone in class. Maybe this had to do with his outburst on that rainy day a few weeks before - but, thinking back, she couldn't remember anything that would have indicated marriage. "You've got the wrong idea."

"Don't you dare fucking play games with me, Uraraka," Bakugou growled each syllable of her name as he stepped towards the woman. "I already told you what was going to happen."

Iida stepped up first. "I am not sure what you're referring to, but we're all too young to get married."

"You butt out of this."

Everyone wanted to boo. Afterall, the degenerate known as Bakugou threatened the bond of 1-A's sweethearts. How characteristic of him to ruin a pure love between Midoriya and Uraraka - who weren't dating, mind you, but that was aside from the point. The potential of their loving relationship mattered the most.

Midoriya put a few fingers to his chin and tilted his head down to contemplate the situation. Bakugou often had difficulty putting himself in the minds of other people outside the battlefield, so this case must have hardly differed. Perhaps, he saw the advantages in reproducing Uraraka's quirk with his, so for that reason, he wanted to marry her. The potential of that happening sank Midoriya's stomach.

If Bakugou wanted to marry Uraraka out of love, then Midoriya could respect it. If that wasn't the case, then Midoriya had to decide if he should intervene. They were a few years away from being able to legally commit, so was the conflict worth a fight? There must have been something that Deku failed to properly detect. Meanwhile, the grief and shame in Uraraka's frown were enough to urge Midoriya to end the scene somehow.

Kirishima knew that he was the only one who could possibly quell the situation. He stepped in and blocked the trio of Midoriya, Uraraka, and Iida from Bakugou's line of sight to say, "Hey, you didn't tell me anything about this. We should talk about it when we study for that test tonight."

Right, they had an upcoming exam.

Bakugou could rationalize postponing this interrogation until he took care of his present affairs. "Yeah, okay," he mumbled before he exited the scene.

With that, the class collectively let out a deep sigh - everyone except for Todoroki who had something he needed to address with their class's infamous Katsuki Bakugou.

Chapter Text

Maybe if Todoroki could have left the troubling quandary alone, Bakugou would have retreated to his room for a quiet evening of studying. But, he foresaw sleepless night for allowing history to repeat itself. He felt like he had the responsibility of preventing the sins of his childhood from ever occurring again, and he had every right to be troubled.

Quirk Marriages should have been outlawed - in his opinion. At least, the masses should reject such a deplorable practice. While the fire and ice young man knew nothing about love firsthand, he knew the effects of a choleric marriage.

When he grabbed Bakugou's arm, he had to curb his violent urge and hinder himself from giving the lout the battle that he wanted back at the Sports Festival. He pulled him into an alleyway on campus and pushed him against the brick wall out of any teacher's line of sight. "What was that back there?" he demanded to know.

Bakugou's eyebrow twitched. He exclaimed, "What the fuck is this shit?" He couldn't understand why Todoroki of all people pulled him aside for a sudden confrontation.

"Marriage with Uraraka? You know you embarrassed her in front of the entire class," scorned Todoroki.

The only reason that Bakugou added to this conversation was so that Todoroki didn't mistake him for some kind of romantic, sappy softie. There was no way he'd let his reputation stoop to that level. He begrudgingly elucidated, "I shouldn't have to tell you, but it's not the fairy tale shit you might have been thinking. I'm marrying her for her quirk and nothing else - not that it's any of your damn business." As usual, his scowl did not betray him. He had nothing to hide.

"Yeah, I got that," scoffed Todoroki. His hands shook as he restrained the combustible kid against the wall. He had to contain a lot of disgust in order to prevent an escalated altercation. "That's repulsive. She's better than that, and she deserves more for her life. You don't even know what it means to marry someone for their quirk. Do you know what kind of life that leads to? Pain, neglect, abuse of power are the only things that come from a quirk marriage. Such an arrangement escalates from a legal convenience to an abusive tragedy - especially with someone as violent as you."

Bakugou snorted, "Ha. Spare me the emo dribble, half-and-half. I don't need a fucker like you talking down to me. I know what I'm doing, and I don't give a flying fuck how you feel about it." This trifling conflict bugged him. The destructive young man only spoke what was on his mind. He knew that his life was destined for greatness, and he needed to carry on that legacy with a person who could lend the most compatible genes.

Why would he waste an opportunity on sentimental crap when he could make kids that could make tons of floating bombs?

Maybe Todoroki needed some time to collect himself, for he felt his rage swell within both sides of his body. Even if he shared his past, he would not be able to quell the drive of Bakugou. He could hear his breath as he panted, "Your volatile personality will kill her inside before she ever gets to the age to marry you. Don't you get that? You can't force someone to marry you."

Was someone like this capable of love? Todoroki wasn't even sure if he was capable of such an affinity for someone else. They were all in the middle of their adolescence and had only been pubescent for a few years.

Daringly, Todoroki knew that if he glanced at Bakugou's glower, he'd feel the emptiness that his father often had throughout his childhood. However, when he raised his eyes to study Bakugou's, he had a glimpse of his wide, crimson eyes and neutral, relaxed brow. Sadness? No, vulnerability - that couldn't be it. Quickly, he turned his head around to see what his classmate saw - Uraraka.

The class prodigy slowly loosened his grip on Bakugou's collar. Those weren't the eyes of Todoroki's father.

Noticing the movement, Bakugou snapped back and shoved Todoroki away from him. "I got shit to do. Enough of this," he barked before he shoved his hands into his pockets and walked away from the scene.

Todoroki could properly calm himself. He took a deep breath before Yaoyorozu met up with him. "I had my doubts at first, but there's something about him that's different from the way my father looked at us. He's not dead behind the eyes - he's just difficult," he sighed and stretched out the tension from his arms.

"It kind of came out of nowhere, don't you think - this whole obsession? He probably doesn't know about the thing that Midoriya and Uraraka have for each other," she pondered out loud to him.

Of course, that didn't cross Todoroki's mind. He softly smiled, "They do?" Midoriya would be more than suitable as a romantic interest for her.

She wanted to tease him for his density. Yaoyorozu let out a deep sigh as she gazed at him. He had such a capacity for caring despite his stoicism. "They don't know about their feelings for each other, either. Well, Uraraka knows she likes him, but she doesn't know if he likes her because he doesn't know that either. And, he doesn't know how she feels. I probably shouldn't have told you that."

Why did something like that have to be complicated? He could hardly comprehend the drawn-out explanation. And, how does that count as liking each other if they may not even be aware of their feelings? "Anyone would make a better partner than Bakugou," decided Todoroki. He could still stand by that fact. Even if he weren't the worst for her, he definitely wouldn't be the best.

"And Mineta," added Yaoyorozu as she watched the kid fawn over one of the girls from their school.

"What does he have to do with this?"

Kirishima met up with Bakugou at the gate UA's campus. He noticed how late he was, but of course, he refused to say where he'd been. They agreed to get some fast food before heading back to the dorms. On the way to a burger joint, the red haired boy spotted Uraraka standing with a few of her female friends in front of some novelty toy store or boutique. The colorful lights illuminated her face, so there was no way that Bakugou could have missed her.

Since the best way to get to their destination would have been to cross the street, Kirishima stood at the crosswalk and patiently waited for cars to pass. He also wanted to avoid any conflict with the girls. Bakugou seemed a little more perturbed than usual. His rigid hands gripped the insides of his pockets.

A smirk rose to his face as Bakugou passed up the crosswalk to pass by the toy store. What could have caught her immature eye? Her wide eyes glowed along with her giant smile. The window displayed a green rabbit about the size of a cat on sale at half price. He would have just passed by, but the sight irked him. "What are you staring at that for? You look like a baby. What kind of high-schooler gets shit like that?"

"Bakugou, no," muttered Kirishima as he jogged up to the scene from meters away. If he kept harassing her, he'd get in trouble. On top of that, he would probably ruin his chances of being with her. Above all of that, he could hurt poor Uraraka's feelings!

But, she was strong. She could stand her ground in the face of petty adversities. "Leave me alone. I thought you were going to study," Uraraka complained.

Toru and Mina had gone into the store. They apparently failed to see Bakugou approach them, or else they would have stayed by her side.

"What? I already know the material. It takes me less than an hour to study," he explained, but then he shifted his attention back to the infuriating bunny. His blood boiled as his haughty demeanor surged. "Why don't you just buy it already? Are you stupid?"

Uraraka held her breath and tried with all her might to fight back the tears that welled in the corners of her eyes. If she uttered a single word, they'd probably spill down her face and reveal her weakness. She couldn't afford something like that to happen in front of him. Although the stuffed animal only cost a few coins above her budget, she couldn't bear splurging her limited allowance. "I have to go," she strained herself to say.

The instant that Uraraka turned her back to Bakugou, tears stained the pavement as she walked away from her tormentor and back to the dorms. He probably had no idea that he hit a nerve, but she would rather he never know her financial situation. A block away, she messaged her friends that she had forgotten something at the dorms. She wouldn't have been able to afford to do anything with them anyway.

Kirishima ran up to Bakugou who was still fuming. The rocky hero had difficulty balancing his stern sincerity with a tactful plea. Only the perfect medium would be sufficient after all. Gritting his teeth, he frowned, "Bakugou, Uraraka is poor."

"How the fuck am I supposed to know that?" spat Bakugou as he continued down the street. He didn't have much money on him either - enough to go to the shitty burger restaurant and play some games afterward. That particular location was mostly an arcade, so their food was cheap and legitimately mediocre. He burst open the glass doors before stomping into the facility.

Who would he be if he stopped to coddle Uraraka? He knew she could handle whatever he threw at her. Her resiliency was one of the characteristics he didn't despise about her. However, when she took it too far and became cocky, that pissed him off the most.

The explosive hero-in-training growled his order at the cashier before he trudged over to the prize bar while he waited for his food. He needed to calculate which games he should play for what prizes. Most of the cheap toys and accessories never appealed to him, but upon approaching the booth, he immediately spotted that grinning, green rabbit that Uraraka had fawned over earlier that evening.

An even 2,000 tickets were all it cost. How unfitting. That's about how much it cost at that toy store. At both locations, the dumb rabbit was insanely overpriced in his opinion.

"Do you see anything you like? Do you have a girlfriend? Maybe you see something she'd like," pitched the irrelevant booth operator.

Were women so simple? Could he win something like that to get her to quit crying and whining all the time? And if she were as destitute as everybody cried about, then that would make his objective a lot easier to achieve. Even though he didn't have a lot of money, he probably could buy more than she could.

She'd be at his mercy.

Now, Bakugou could not comprehend just how malicious his thought process truly was. Even if he knew, that probably wouldn't quell the drive that flamed in his eyes. "Win her over. Win her. Win," he thought to himself with a growing grin. That's what it came down to after all. Fortunately, he didn't think to go as far as Endeavor once did by approaching her parents with a lump sum of cash. That case scenario failed to cross his mind.

Regardless, he only had the money in his pocket.

Bakugou knew not to go too crazy with this investment. He had other shit to do.

Kirishima shivered. He felt the aura of fervency burst from Bakugou. As they walked back to get their food at their table, he nervously laughed, "You didn't tell me that you wanted to marry Uraraka. Aren't we kinda young?"

"We're not too young to plan for the future," he muttered without any inflection in his voice.

"Ah," he replied. "Yeah, I guess you're right. I don't even have anybody I like yet, and I'm already 16." Should he ask more questions? Did Bakugou like Uraraka, or did he have some convoluted plan that involved her? He couldn't tell.

With his mouth full of food, Bakugou set his classmate straight. He corrected, "Who said anything about liking her?"

Well, that was that.

Sweat slid down Kirishima's temple, and he sighed, "I think I'm just gonna play a couple of games and go back to the dorms. I just got an email that said the exam tomorrow is canceled."

Perfect. Such an occurrence was as if the world parted for Bakugou's destiny. He grinned as he chomped through his burger. At this point, he had to wonder if influencing her would even be a challenge. He knew just the game to play to win the most tickets - a game of chance, for he felt incredibly lucky.

Meanwhile, Uraraka reached the dormitory shortly after her encounter with Bakugou and had since cleared the tears from her eyes. She spotted Midoriya and kind of wanted to avoid him just in case he recognized that she had been crying. In front of him, she wanted to appear strong. When he approached her, she smiled, "Hey, Deku. What's up?"

"I thought you were going shopping with Tooru and Mina. What happened?" Midoriya asked. Hopefully, he didn't sound like he was accusing her of anything. As always, he was a little concerned. The scene from earlier with Bakugou was a little intense. He had a lot of guts, though, and after knowing Bakugou for a considerable amount of time, he had never witnessed the blond go out of his way for a girl or anyone for that matter.

Like she read his mind, Uraraka mumbled, "Bakugou's annoying."

Midoriya's eyes widened. He rose his head to see the irritation in Uraraka's knitted brow and frown. "What?" he said. Did something happen between them again when she went into town?

She continued as she stared at the ground, "He's selfish and really brutal and harsh. I wanna say that there's more to him, but sometimes, I don't know. Maybe he's just a bad guy."

If Midoriya had romantic intentions with a girl, he would have to go through a lot of effort before he talked about marriage. In a way, Bakugou was similar to him. They both had social inhibitions. For Midoriya, it was a lack of self-esteem that prevented him from getting close to others. And for Bakugou, his greatest hindrance was his egotistical thought process. "Kacchan isn't a bad guy. Every nice thing he says, he really means," he added. Inversely, he didn't mean every insult he threw at people.

Except, Midoriya figured that he meant every jab he slung at him.

Uraraka frowned. She hoped that Midoriya would just agree with her, but he was right. If he just agreed with everything she said, he wouldn't be the Deku that she admired. She took a deep breath and smiled, "Midoriya, you might see the good in people when it's not even there. You're really special like that. Maybe that's your other quirk."

He jumped and blushed as sweat rained from his head. "R-Really?" he stuttered. "You're okay, right, Uraraka?"

Gripping the air, she nodded, "Yup! I just came back to get something I left in my dorms." Maybe she could splurge every once in a while. "Thanks for talkin' to me." She went up to her dorm after waving back at her friend.

Sure enough, after Kirishima left the arcade, Bakugou wound up with the stupid green rabbit. He had slaved at some game of chance for hours. Naturally, he won the jackpot twice with minimal effort before going back and forth over whether or not he should waste his tickets on a stuffed animal. How could he go back to the dorms with such a piece of shit toy in his hands? It would attract attention. He glared down at its smug grin.

How could he give something like that to Uraraka? What was he supposed to say? Maybe he could just throw it at her or leave it at her desk. Everything he thought of sounded too uncanny and out of character. He had only given something to someone a handful of times, and typically, the gifts were more of a repayment than a token.

Token? What the fuck was this token supposed to symbolize? He gripped the cotton plushie by the neck and ground his teeth together.

No way! "I'm not going to give her shit!" he decided out loud as if to announce to the world that he wasn't a pansy. Initially, he thought that he had the advantage in the situation. By flexing his monetary muscle, he thought she was at his mercy. Yet, he was the one that spent hours of effort and time trying to win her a toy. For what? Was this the only way to get what he wanted? After all, he reveled at the idea that all the events lined up for him earlier that day.

Moreover, would she smile?

No, not fucking moreover! Who gave a shit about things like that?

Bakugou's eye twitched, and the image of a smiling Uraraka withered out of his mind just as quickly as it had faded into his thoughts.

All this contemplation disgusted him, and he needed to put an end to it. He was already thinking of the girl way too much. As he neared the campus, his grip on the toy steadily increased until he finally decided to blow it up. He planned to focus on other aspects of the future aside from marital opportunities until at least his third year of high school. And for the rest of the night, he didn't think of Uraraka once.

Not thinking of other people was one of his best talents.

Then, at school the next day, he spotted Midoriya holding the same stupid rabbit stuffed animal that he had destroyed the evening before. All the annoyance picked up where it left off.

Bakugou's fingers twitched at the knuckles as he stomped towards his former childhood friend. "Oi," he snarled, "Where the fuck did you get that? You can't give that to her."

"Oh, hey, Kacchan," greeted the All-Might protege. He wasn't too sure what Bakugou meant, but he figured he could easily clear up the confusion. "Uraraka gave this to me this morning." Although Midoriya assumed that he could read Bakugou pretty well, he had no way of knowing what went through his mind at that moment. Why did he care about Uraraka giving him a toy?

Then, he saw evidence of a flicker of feelings - Bakugou's glistening eyes. Of course, Midoriya knew that Bakugou wouldn't cry over something like this, and the tears wouldn't even well up in the corners of his eyes, but he'd seen such a look in his eyes before then. He was frustrated as if something he wanted but couldn't reach had swung in front of him and away from him without warning.

Midoriya felt guilty. He was about to apologize, but then...

Abruptly, blood shot within Bakugou's eyes as they radiated a demonic crimson glow. He couldn't believe the situation, the audacity of that girl. His anger swelled faster than he could think. "Where is she?" he barked as he stormed into the classroom. Even though no one knew the strides he made for the prize that he destroyed, he felt like his cards had been exposed to everyone in the damn class.

"K-Kacchan," stuttered Midoriya as he followed him into the classroom. Was it a blunder to reveal where he got the toy from?

Bakugou slammed his hand onto Uraraka's desk causing her to jump. "I'm going to buy everything for you after I become the number one pro hero. You got that? Don't be stupid and waste your money on nerds, and then, maybe I'll marry someone like you," he shouted. When he slowly lowered his head to see her response, he respected her to cower or cry or at least look away. Yet, she looked into the deepest part of him with a knitted brow and the darkest glower he had ever witnessed.

Something in his chest jumped even though he had his feet firmly planted on the ground, and then, she slapped him at his weakest moment.

"I'm never gonna marry you, and the fact that you think you can buy me makes you disgusting! I'll be my own hero, Bakugou," Uraraka barked back as she tried her hardest to keep him on the ground so that the teachers didn't see her delinquency.

The desk rattled as Bakugou gripped the sides of it to stay still until she forced him back to the ground.

She barked back despite the consequences. She readied herself for a fight as she got to her feet.

His eyes widened and dilated, and the redness somehow faded from his eyes, but at that moment of tension, he swore, his rage had grown tenfold. In a low grunt, Bakugou replied with nothing but dryness in his stare, "Motherfucker."

Midoriya ran up to the scene. Many other people prepared to defend her in this calm before a storm. "Kacchan," he began to challenge him with the utmost intention of ending Uraraka's sorrow.

Typically, Uraraka would have faltered to Midoriya's act of heroism, and while she found his gesture to be incredibly charming, she wanted to seize this opportunity to stand up for herself. She was her own hero just like she said. "I can handle this," she replied as sweetly as she could despite her frustration and determination in her shaking voice. Midoriya would stand up for himself, so she needed to, too.

Bakugou's hands had remained in his pockets. His fury grew by the second, but this time, it merged with a unique sentiment - undeniable intrigue. How bad could a good girl get? He wanted to test her limits.

He still wanted to fight her or someone.

Fortunately, Eraserhead entered the classroom and ordered everyone to their seats and tried to not pay attention to whatever over-the-top dramatic scene occurred. The class obliged.

Chapter Text

Did the tension sincerely settle down when Eraserhead entered? Midoriya studied the classroom and could feel the still air of the room. Bakugou typically took a long time to cool down after his surges of anger. Then, after class, how would the situation pan out between everyone? Would the conflict continue or wither? Also, Uraraka - was she upset or saddened by the sudden dramatic commotion?

In that moment of conflict with Bakugou, her pensive stare and lack of a smile had shaken the class.

Bakugou’s proposal was not simply some jibe. He meant every word he said, but why? Before yesterday, he never expressed any interest in Uraraka, and then, the innocuous revelation that she gifted Midoriya a stuffed animal nearly moved Bakugou to tears. To Midoriya, that meant that his old friend had his eyes, heart, and mind set on making Uraraka his wife or something like that. He couldn’t understand the details of the situation.

For Midoriya, the confirmation for this theory came when Aizawa told them to pick sticks for a project. Matching colors decided the teams

Uraraka drew red.

Bakugou drew red as well.

The wide, fiery eyes and the giant grin that grew on Bakugou’s face evoked Midoriya’s memories of when the combustible kid got an All Might sticker from a Gotcha game when they were younger. The rare expression may have only lasted for a second before his typical prideful smirk returned.

That second was enough to raise Midoriya’s suspicion of genuine joy in Bakugou’s heart. The shift from distraught frustration to rage to sincere delight only confirmed Uraraka’s yoke on him. Every minuscule movement of hers could jerk him for miles. Could Midoriya rest easily now that he sensed the sincerity in the situation? While Bakugou may have had selfish aims, there was something more to his intentions that had most likely gone undetected by him.

Uraraka tried to still her trembling frown as Bakugou marched up to her desk and slammed the matching stick onto her desk.

Midoriya failed to pay attention to who his partner was after intensely analyzing the circumstance between Bakugou and Uraraka.

Not far from his desk, Uraraka had to deal with her new partner. Maybe there was a way to get out of the situation. “H-Hey, Bakugou,” she greeted him and hoped he didn’t carry his grudge for that morning.

“Looks like we’re partners, round-face,” Bakugou taunted with his slanted, furrowed eyebrows. If this wasn’t fate, then he didn’t know what was. To him, this game of chance led to the confirmation of his insightful hunch. And, he relished the notion that fate worked in his favor. He savored the troubled frown that sank on her face and the raw fear that dilated her eyes.

Uraraka bit her lip and sighed. Being a hero required working in unfavorable positions, but she felt like she got paired with an undercover villain. How long was this project supposed to be anyway?

Sensitivity Training. She already knew they would probably fail based on such a premise. Bakugou had no sensitive bone in his body save for his fragile ego.

According to the board, they had to work with a kid on the other side of town and spend at least 2 hours a week with him for a month and write a reflection essay at the end. For their particular child, they had to tutor them. Activities would contribute to the rest of the necessary time.

Bakugou teased, “What? Are you scared? Better to be with the best than with some other loser.” While he didn’t explicitly point back at Midoriya, he enjoyed the fact that he won over him.

She held her tongue. Uraraka had to stifle any anger, but for how long? She didn’t want to fight and risk their grade for the sake of her grudge against Bakugou Katsuki, so she gulped down every reservation and drop of animosity in her head and beamed a gentle smile up at him. “Let’s work hard together, Bakugou,” she chirped as her eyes connected with his.

Insolence! How could she be arrogant enough to smile in a detestable situation? He bore his teeth and hissed, “What was that?”

Uraraka repeated with a giggle, “I said, ‘let’s hard work together.’” Lemons to lemonade, right? Though, she couldn’t quite determine the tang from such a standpoint. Maybe she enjoyed his intolerance of her resilience, and perhaps, she could play with the situation to her advantage. Hopefully, they could get a passing grade at least.

Bakugou’s eyebrow twitched as he nearly broke his craft stick, yet he held back his anger and shoved it into his pocket along with both his hands. “We start tomorrow, and we’re leaving at the bell, so you can’t shit around with your nerdy friends.” As much as he wanted to say that he had the advantage of their dynamic, he felt the power slip from his hands.

“'Kay, sounds great,” she agreed with a thumbs-up an unyielding grin. This project would be a long one, but she could endure it. Her smile grew a little wider when she noticed her partner’s eye twitch. Through the next arduous weeks, she absolutely could not lose sight of herself and allow Bakugou to dampen her enthusiasm and general optimism.

“Jeez,” complained Kaminari the next morning in class. He approached Bakugou who sat at his respective desk and flipped through a book. The bright classroom lit by the morning sun had nearly just opened, and so the only students were the two of them plus Kirishima. “You’re really putting the moves on Uraraka. Are you trying to ruin a happy home?” He poked fun at the idea, for he doubted that Bakugou would have any chance of interfering with the potential relationship of 1-A’s sweethearts.

Slamming his book closed, Bakugou growled, “What did you fucking say to me? I don’t know what the fuck you’re talking about, but it’s probably a load of bullshit.” His pride had split into two schools of thought. One-half disregarded anyone’s perspective on his marital interest in Uraraka; the other half despised the possibility that anyone knew anything of the proposition. Situations like Kaminari’s smug-ass question and Todoroki’s high-and-mighty confrontation lent to his inclination to the latter logical thought.

The kids in his class just couldn’t mind their own damn business, and if they interfered with his goals for the sake of their petty gossip, they’d have hell to pay.

Kaminari chuckled having had his fun and left to take his seat.

To attempt to remedy the situation, Kirishima approached Bakugou. With his tact and knowledge of Bakugou’s tendencies, he knew that there was a specific way to approach him. He needed to translate his advice in a way that would motivate his friend. “Some people are better at talking to girls than others. Not everyone can be that manly, I guess,” he suggested in the most roundabout way possible. “But, you can’t force a girl to marry you.”

“The hell I can’t!” shouted Bakugou - probably alerting everyone on in the hallway of his presence.

Kirishima let out a quick sigh. He had to muster through the conversation. There was no way he could leave Bakugou to believe that he could force Uraraka into an impossible situation. “It’s just no good if you don’t tell her how you feel, though,” he advised as he shooed the thought with his hand.

Tersely, Bakugou spat, “I don’t feel a damn thing except rage that Round-Face thinks she can lead me around like a dog.”

Knowing what he knew, Kirishima leaned over to remind Bakugou of what he told him in confidence. Maybe the brute didn’t connect the dots all the way, but he probably wouldn’t want other people to know. “Didn’t you say that your hands have been sweatier than normal?” he whispered. Backing away, he continued at a normal volume, “Well, that’s something, right?” He rooted for his friend to at least be honest with himself.

Love was pretty damn manly after all.

Bakugou glared at his wet hands when Uraraka entered the room with her crew. His bodily functions had betrayed his self-proclaimed stone facade. He lowered his voice more so than his last remark and muttered, “That’s none of her business or your damn business for that fucking matter.” Suddenly, he regretted spilling such a secret the night before and grimaced. His sweat fueled his quirk, and so, he should have been careful with sharing that information even if it was with someone he trusted.

“But,” implored Kirishima with a bright grin, “maybe it’ll be enough to tell her how you two as a pair can be more energetic or something.”

Watching Uraraka take her seat a few desk behind him, Bakugou corrected, “Synergetic.” Her skirt fluttered down on and around her chair like a billowing sunflower as she sat down, and her posture straightened as she bloomed a smile at the people around her. The sun that washed through the room somehow seemed to focus on her wherever she went. Such a realization might have amused most people, but the predicament made Bakugou gag.

Just how synergetic were they? In what way would she need him in a fight? Who was he kidding? Uraraka didn’t need him in a fight. She was tough, witty, and formidable on her own, and if he were ever honest with himself, her autonomy appealed to him.

“Hurry up! Get your ass on the train!” shouted Bakugou from the middle of a crowded train car.

As much as Uraraka wanted to deny that she intentionally delayed getting onto the train, she couldn’t. She loathed the idea of committing to him for such a long time and for an important assignment. Her racing thoughts kept her up the night before, and she had to force her foot across the metal bar that bordered the bottom of the train. With a gulp, she stepped forward and stood in the only empty spot available - centimeters away from her partner.

She exhaled hot air that bounced back off of Bakugou’s school uniform. Looking up at him would have been a bad idea. Would it be better to turn away from him at least? There was hardly enough space to rotate, but she did it somehow.

Suddenly, Uraraka felt vulnerable to an attack from him. Again, she sighed, “You can do this, Ochako.” Hopefully, no one could hear her quick pep talk.

Bakugou heard. His eyebrow twitched before he allowed words to slip from his mind as well. “I can’t believe this shit. We have to go to the other side of town just to tutor some elementary school brat,” he griped to no one in particular.

Why was he complaining? Uraraka had spotted the malicious smirk on his face the day before as he taunted her. He wanted this to happen with her. Something about his suddenly cynical and pessimistic attitude caused her hand to tighten around the strap that she clung to above her. She needed to calm down before she became too annoyed to relate to the kid that they had to watch.

Although Uraraka’s motivations for becoming a hero primarily benefitted her family, she enjoyed being happy and wanted to be kind to others. While she wanted to understand Bakugou, after the past couple of days, she began to lose interest. And if he acted unruly towards the kid that they needed to protect and tutor, she would probably become genuinely upset - if she wasn’t already.

To get through the day, she decided to pretend that Bakugou just really wanted to be her friend. Of course, that wasn’t true, but maybe if she saw the situation like that, her pounding headache would disappear. She sighed again.

“Why are you sighing? Don’t get a fucking attitude just because you’re sad you didn’t get paired with Deku.”

Maybe that plan wouldn’t work. Uraraka’s mouth twitched at the corners. “I guess I’m just tired,” she replied and then under her breath, she added with puffy cheeks, “of bein’ around you.” Why did she say that? There was no way that she could keep up the chore of being nice to him after the harassment from the past few days.

The audacity! He steamed from his ears and growled, “Fucker, don’t talk shit to me. Like I said before, you’re lucky to have me as your partner.” They could volley hostility back and forth all day, and he didn’t know what to do with his anger. At first, he reached out to attack her, but then he stopped himself. If this woman truly became his wife one day, he would want to avoid physically lashing out at her. Being entirely honest with himself, he could destroy her in more ways than one - mentally and physically.

None of the options that sparked through his thoughts included sexual destruction despite the connotations. If his mind ever matured to that point, then he would probably list that off as well.

Bakugou told himself that he wanted her to cower beneath his intimidating power, but he knew that she was too tough or stupid to respect his advantage. And as he wanted to deny before, her rare, tenacious glare drew him. When she darted her eyes back over her shoulders and up at him with genuine animosity, he grinned as he lifted an eyebrow, “What? Did I piss you off again?” His heart raced.

Right, she let her emotions get the best of her too often around him, and she tended to blurt out what she felt in the heat of the moment with him. Since that marriage proposal fiasco, her nerves had gotten more high-strung. “No,” she said as the anger faded from her body. Midoriya wouldn’t have lost his temper. She wouldn’t ever want him to see this side of her again. “I’m excited.”

No, excitement was what Bakugou was supposed to feel - the anticipation of her grief. She was supposed to be terrified and intimidated so that she learned her damn lesson.

Uraraka continued with that bright beam of a smile, “I can’t wait to meet her. Oh! Looks like we just have a couple more stops.” If she didn’t hold onto hope that there was something deeper to Bakugou’s intentions, then she’d lose sight of herself.

He could handle a glare, but not that stupid smile of hers.

“So you guys are heroes, right?” eagerly asked the child as she stood on the edges of her toes. Her wide, blue eyes stared up at her mentors through her dirty blond hair as her agape mouth widened into a smile. She had dreamed of the moment that she met her tutors all day.

Uraraka shook her head and politely corrected the kid, “We’ll be pro heroes one day.”

“I’m Kotone,” she greeted as she bowed. Dirty described more than just her hair color. Smudges spotted her white blouse and black shoes. If it weren’t for her skirt, they may have assumed that she was a boy. Maybe her short hair threw them off, but she was at least a tomboy.

Bakugou noted, “That’s a girl’s name.”

“I am a girl!” Kotone argued.

Did he not notice the skirt?

In lieu of Bakugou’s error, Uraraka apologized, “Sorry. He’s weird. So what’re your hobbies?” She would have to pick up his slack.

They began to walk in the direction of the kid’s house. Uraraka made some idle small chat with her while Bakugou checked his phone every two minutes. Ten minutes had passed since they left the school, and he already loathed the pace of the day. Traveling nearly an hour across town to walk a kid that lived half an hour away was overboard for an assignment. On top of that, he had to teach her basic concepts that he learned a long time ago. How was he supposed to talk to a kid? “What kind of shit do you need to work on? We’re just doing homework,” he interrupted.

Snapping away from her pleasant conversation about UA with Kotone, Uraraka frowned, “Bakugou, you shouldn’t use those kinda words right now.” Was he ever going to turn down his rage in front of her?

Annoyed that he would ever have to censor himself, he barked, “I can do what I want. I don’t give a damn what you think.”

“I wanna hurry up so that we can play video games,” cheered Kotone as she got out her portable Nintendo 3DS. “Can you help me beat my Kirby game, Bakugou? It’s really hard. I can’t beat any of my friends.”

“You can’t beat Kirby? That’s for babies compared to real fighting games,” he complained as he snatched the device from the kid’s hands. “Lemme see that shit.”

Well, at least they found something to do if she finished her homework early. Kotone lived in a massive estate that spanned at least an acre. Ornate decorations covered the yard. The bland, white house contrasted greatly. Her parents must have made a lot of money, so why did they decide not just to hire tutors as opposed to asking ordinary high school kids to do it for free?

Immediately, they got to work in the house’s study. Uraraka could handle that level of work, but Bakugou wanted to rush the situation so that they could play video games afterward.

Was he a good teacher or did Kotone simply have an adequate gist of the material at hand? Either way, Uraraka felt the distance as she tried to look harder at Bakugou. He had not chided the girl since they arrived. His typical scowl had left his face as he softened his crimson eyes to examine the assignment in the warm light of the study. Uraraka smiled, and he caught her in the act.

“What the hell are you looking at?”

“Nothing,” replied Uraraka with a slight giggle. Only twenty minutes had passed, and they had a few more math problems to go, so they had 40 more minutes to spend with her. While she wasn’t good at video games, she grew interested in seeing more of this softer side of Bakugou. For the time being, however, she felt useless. “Excuse me.” She excused herself to leave for the bathroom.

After Kotone had finished the last question, she mischievously smiled, “Why do you say mean things to Uraraka when you like being around her?”

Bakugou raised his head, and he tightened his fist until he broke the mechanical pencil in his hands. “She bugs the hell out of me,” he growled. For reasons unknown to him, he couldn’t bring himself to say that he hated being around her. “She thinks she can change everything with her cheesy smile, and she hangs out with Deku just to piss me off,” he listed out the reasons she annoyed him.

That was simple for him.

Kotone wasn’t sure who Deku was, but she understood that something about the way Bakugou tried to portray his emotions was dishonest.

On a separate sheet of paper, Kotone recalled the events over the past afternoon. She sketched sound waves that looked like something seen on EKG heart monitor. The line peaked and rhythmically rose until she stopped her pencil and finished the drawing with a smiley face. Pointing to the high points of the graph, she explained, “This is you when you talk to her. You get the idea, right? You’re really happy when you’re around her.”

“Shut the fuck up, brat,” barked Bakugou as he slammed his hand to the desk and got to his feet.

“It’s my quirk. I can hear people’s heartbeats. I don’t think you like-like her. You just like being around her. I’m sorry. I didn’t know I wasn’t supposed to say that,” apologized the girl as she bowed her head. Her parents told her how rude it was to read people’s thoughts, but even at that moment, she wasn’t afraid. She knew that Bakugou wouldn’t hurt her - he was just embarrassed.

Bakugou sat back down in his chair and ground his teeth. Of course, he still didn’t like that conclusion either. The entire analysis felt like she cut his insides open. A quirk like that would be nothing but trouble for him. “Your quirk?” he repeated almost like a question, but he didn’t care for her to continue.

Uraraka had run towards the room after she heard the commotion. She immediately glared at her partner. “Bakugou, what did you do?”

While Kotone could hear the incongruency in Bakugou’s heartbeat with his attitude, she could also sense Uraraka’s growing resentment. If Bakugou didn’t do anything about the way he acted around her, then he’d lose his chances of becoming her friend. “I’m fine, Uraraka,” she smiled. “Do you want to play with us?”

“S-Sure,” she replied after a deep breath.

Both Bakugou and Uraraka could sit on opposite sides of the empty train by the time they finished playing with Kotone. Uraraka had calmed down considerably and leaned forward in her seat as she allowed her cheeks to float into a smile.

That day, she saw a side of Bakugou that not many people had seen before. “You’re not a bad person,” she chirped before she bit her bottom lip. They played video games past the time that they were supposed to be there. He wouldn’t have stayed if he didn’t have fun. And, for the first time in a while, she could completely relax around him.

“What makes you think I give a fuck what you think about me?”

When she giggled, Bakugou noticed the sudden build up of sweat on the palms of his hands. He wiped them on his pants and groaned. Too many thoughts raced through his mind, and he hated that he suddenly became aware of idle bodily reactions like sweat.

That damn smile haunted him, and her giggle deafened his ears to the point that he could only see and hear her. He had tunnel vision in that train car but with tunnel hearing, too.

Why?

“You’re really good at tellin’ people how you really feel.”

Bakugou rose his head to lock eyes with her plain, startling browns. That wasn’t entirely true, but he was willing to listen to her absurd shpeal.

“You tell people when you’re mad when you’re actually feelin’ all kinds of emotions, but I guess that’s about it. And, I only tell people when I’m happy or confident when I’m feeling a storm of emotions, too! We’re opposites, but at the same time, we’re kinda the same. I bet we could help each other out lots, right? Like, sometimes you make me so angry that I can’t contain it, so, now, I have to make you feel happy. That’s kinda a good thing, right?”

Again, Bakugou had no comment. Rather, he suppressed any commentary he may have had. They would be back at the dorms within minutes. If he could simply silence his mind until then, he’d be okay.

“What’s that word? We’re synergetic!”

Chapter Text

Sometime before dinner one evening, Midoriya encountered Asui Tsuyu right outside the main building of the campus. She happened to be his partner for the sensitivity assignment.

What was interesting about Asui to him was the fact that no matter how nervous he became, she would react with her consistently stoic facial expression. Something about her insanely even temper put him at ease and brought him to a maintainable level of composure - almost. Would she be a good person to listen to his turmoil? Often, she said whatever came to mind, and so, she would at least be honest.

Before pouring out the circumstances in their entirety to her, he needed to recount what was appropriate for him to share.

"Midoriya?" she asked, and when he looked up, she continued, "I said that we should meet up tomorrow after class, ribbit."

"Oh, right, sure, Asui - I mean, Tsu. I was just thinking about everything that happened with Kacchan and Uraraka the other. It was pretty crazy, right?" Midoriya mentioned as casually as he could.

Asui tilted her head and asked, "Is that weird for you?"

He tried to look into her unchanging eyes and gulped, "I-I guess. I didn't think he'd ever be interested in a girl - especially like Uraraka."

She replied, "How do you feel about Uraraka?"

What? Where did that come from? Midoriya was unsure of how his feelings related to the topic at hand. Of course, he blushed, but he couldn't tell if that burst of emotions matched the general flutter of his reaction to other people. Oddly enough, he had yet to give much thought to how he felt about Uraraka. He knew her to be energetic and adorable and someone he could trust. However, after witnessing the fervor in Bakugou's eyes, he couldn't say his admiration could ever compare.

Uraraka and Iida were both his precious friends, too. He wouldn't want to jeopardize their dynamics for curiosity's sake. Or, was this more than just a simple curiosity?

Still smiling, Asui said, "You're already over thinking it, ribbit."

"Ah!" exclaimed Midoriya. "Sorry, I was just thinking about how Kacchan might feel about her."

"But, I asked how you feel about her."

Asui wasn't the first person that day to ask about his feelings for Uraraka. Iida implied that the romantic feelings might already be there. He got stuck in his train of thought yet again and put his fingers to his chin. "Uh," stammered Midoriya, "she's really fun to be around. I feel light-hearted whenever I'm with her, and she's always been there for me, too. I don't know what I'd do without her."

The fact of the matter was - Asui herself was not experienced enough with relationships to understand what it meant to have romantic feelings for someone. People of their class said that Midoriya and Uraraka loved each other, but if she were honest, she thought that was what they wanted to see as opposed to the truth.

Then, she had already heard the rumors that Uraraka had feelings for him. For her sake, she hoped that Midoriya reciprocated those feelings.

"If the feelings you have for her are unique, then you should tell her how you feel, ribbit," added Asui as she assumed that Uraraka would be satisfied with any level of adulation from Midoriya.

Midoriya scratched the back of his head and nervously chuckled, "Really? Well, I don't want to say the wrong thing. I guess I need to figure out how I feel about her first, then, right?" He saw all his friendships as unique. In general, he had a lot of difficulty talking to girls. However, sometimes he could easily share his feelings and thoughts with Uraraka. He had gotten accustomed to being with her. She had cut through his boundaries like butter with her bright smile and attitude.

However, that night, Asui did the same - only she armed herself with a blunt attitude and fixed curved mouth.

They talked for at least an hour. Midoriya's stammering and occasional stutters became less frequent as time passed. For the most part, they discussed the past events of class and exams. Maybe they mentioned stories about their past and future goals. Then by habit, perhaps, his mind jumped back to Bakugou's exhilarated smile after he found out Uraraka was his partner. "Do you believe in things like fate?"

"Sometimes we see the right things at the right time, and from there, we should follow our guts."

That idea would not leave his head for the next few days.

Midoriya excused himself, "Oh, I just remembered - I was supposed to meet someone somewhere! We'll talk later."

A few days after they met Kotone, Bakugou visited the gymnasium for a late afternoon workout before dinner. Uraraka was the only other person in the room when he entered. She listened to some pop song through her headphones as she continued her endurance run on a treadmill in the corner, so she probably didn't sense him enter. Although he had no reason to interact with her, he smirked at this chance encounter.

On most days and with most people, he would have completely ignored them and began his workout regimen. How could he? Her sweat upon her glistening skin caused a glare in the corner of his eye and distracted him. His big mouth allowed whatever surfaced to escape. "Where's your nerd?" he asked. His question had fallen upon deaf ears.

To selfishly pull her attention from her goal would have been sinful, but Bakugou specialized in sin. He approached her bubble, and when he neared the machine from the front, he suddenly halted to observe the intensity of her brow as she stared at the mirrored wall in front of her.

Bakugou jumped.

Fearless ferocity radiated from Uraraka's brown stare as the speed on the treadmill gradually increased by the second. For the first time in regards to anyone outside of battle, he thought - what is this person thinking? Was she running away? No, she chased something that wasn't physically there, but the way her fixated eyes stayed in place, her goal certainly lied on the horizon.

Then, she gasped when she noticed someone in the room. Her train of thought broken, she fell backward onto the floor. Unfortunately, Midoriya was not the guest that had appeared next to her. Regardless she smiled and carefully rubbed her sore bottom. Shame on her for letting her guard down to that level. "Oh, hey, Bakugou," greeted the girl as she got to her feet and dusted herself. Noticing his equally black and tanky tank top, she exclaimed, "We're wearing the same sweats! I guess we're fashion buddies."

Flowers had spouted in mid air around her face before Bakugou barked, "Fuck that! Black is my color. Start wearing something else."

"But, our costume designer is this same person, too, so you're gonna be trapped as my fashion buddy for a while."

Bakugou's eyebrow twitched in response, for he had no words to spit back at her.

Checking her phone, she realized just how much time had passed. She'd been training for nearly an hour! Midoriya said he'd be there around that time. However, maybe his absence benefited her, for she had a productive workout thus far. Again, she had to remind herself not to let Midoriya distract her from her goal. Instead, she wanted to only allow him into her thoughts when he motivated her.

Wait, was Bakugou ranting about something, or was he completely silent? She turned off the music to from her phone and beamed up at her project partner.

He wanted her to cut that smiling shit out, but he knew there was nothing he could do to stop her. "If you're going to be this fucking needy, then I might as well stick around. You can't talk about Deku, though," he complained as he jumped onto the only treadmill next to hers.

How did she seem needy? She glanced at the mirror behind her and blinked. In fact, she would have left if Bakugou hadn't shown up. Maybe she could get to know him a little better.

Taking a seat at a weight machine, Uraraka pulled down the lever and started reps to lift about 20 kilograms. "You're really strong and combative, you know," she began with a compliment as her fascinated gaze wandered to his sizable triceps and biceps. He would totally beat her in an arm wrestling contest. Most of her male friends could probably obliterate her based on their comparative muscle mass alone. That's puberty, though.

Every other aspect of her fighting style needed to be perfect if she wanted to climb the ladder to success and financial security.

She sighed and continued with a small frown, "Hand-to-hand combat and raw strength are still some of my weak points, but I think I'm gettin' a little better. I have a long way to go, though. If I ever want to be taken seriously as a pro, then I gotta try a lot harder."

"You're still lifting 20 kilograms?" Bakugou genuinely asked an easily condescending question in a flat tone. To increase the intensity of his workout, he bumped up the speed past his typical starting number.

He had been staring at her since he entered the room. When she had moved behind him, he watched her reflection gracefully leaned forward to lift the weights behind her. Her breathing - frequent yet controlled - pushed her chest out and retracted it as she spoke. Iridescent sweat still painted her pale skin and caught the fluorescent lighting in the room. Carelessly, he had voiced an observation.

"Oh," Uraraka laughed with a flustered blush on her cheeks and adjusted the weight to double it. "I guess I'm kinda tired now. I can do a lot more than this - especially if I lift stuff with my quirk. Let's do our best, Bakugou!" They could work well together. 

She felt like she could handle the weight she added despite her fatigue.

This light-hearted, casual atmosphere unsettled Bakugou. He wanted to avoid feeling helpless like he did on that train a few days ago. If Bakugou allowed this to continue, he would say words that he never thought he would say to anyone. "If you want to learn how to be anywhere close to my level, then you should train with me."

Uraraka gasped then nodded, "Really? Sure!"

Wait, he said that out loud? Turning around, Bakugou snarled and widened his bloodshot eyes. He spat, "Shut up!"

"Bakugou," she whined at his dogged rejection.

The door slowly opened, and Midoriya stepped into the room. He apologized, "Sorry, Uraraka. I stopped to talk to Asui about our project on the way here."

Uraraka's heart leaped as she smiled and shook her head. "It's okay. I haven't been here for that long," she lied. Why did she say that?

If Bakugou hadn't have said something stupid moments before Midoriya walked into the gym, he would have probably begun some kind of confrontation. However, embarrassed by his own words, he stopped the treadmill and stormed out of the room with an empty feeling of loss. He saw the opportunity to flee as the only way to save face.

Uraraka noticed how Bakugou didn't say anything to her on the train the next day. By looking at his resting frown, she couldn't decipher if he was upset after her eagerness to spar with him or because Midoriya entered. Did she say the wrong thing? She wanted to get along with him.

This train trip, she decided to face him if she thought of something to discuss. Maybe she could talk about Kirishima or school or fighting. Then, maybe one day, she could bridge the gap between him and Midoriya. Maybe their project inspired hope in her that he had a soft interior beneath his volatile personality. That possibility intrigued her as she looked up at his permanent glower. Was he lonely?

She certainly didn't want to go as far as to project emotions with that level of depth onto him. After all, he was definitely mean and belligerent for most of his interactions. However, the wall that he had around him was as vicious as an injured animal's hiss. Facetiously and persistently, she wanted to prod against it until something interesting happened.

The marriage proposal could have been him trying to avoid eternal damnation under the guise of an advantageous legal agreement. As soon the thought entered Uraraka's mind, she had to at least ask, "Why," she began but could not finish.

The sudden squeak of a noise snapped Bakugou's attention towards Uraraka. He instantly sensed the terror that piqued in her lustrous eyes. From their proximity, he could hear her tremble as she slowly lowered her head to stare at the ground. Time stopped as he analyzed the situation between his tumultuous heart beat. For a fraction of a second, her soft whimper reached his ears. That was fear, but if she didn't fear him, then who?

Over her shoulder, he spotted an arm angled in a way that ended near the rear of her skirt and began at the shoulder of some indiscriminate salary man. His appearance didn't matter, for, within moments, he would be dead. Bakugou slowly reached for the balding man's preoccupied face. Up until that day, he had never killed a man, but he swore that the forces of the heavens could not hold him back.

Then, Bakugou noticed Uraraka's eyes sharpen with an acerbic intensity that sliced through his plan.

"That's disgusting," she casually complained without a hint of fear in her voice. "It'd be bad if you touched a defenseless girl like that! Luckily, I'm not defenseless." Grabbing his arm, she turned around and forced his wrists together. Of course, she could overpower him.

Suddenly, Bakugou dug his free hand back into his pocket.

"Could you call the cops while I have him?" requested Uraraka.

Bakugou growled, "Call the cops? I'll just blast him." How could she not feel the same rage that he did?

"You can't do that on a train! We don't even have a license."

Who gave a shit about licenses at a time like that? He wanted revenge.

They could have gone back and forth all day over how to handle the situation with their respective styles of justice, but fortunately, a security guard escorted the offender off the train at the next stop. He thanked her for handling the situation professionally and properly before he left.

As soon as the culprit departed, Bakugou wanted to continue their argument. That was until he noticed Uraraka's reddened pout as he radiant tears welled up in the corners of her eyes. She still trembled. She almost whimpered. She was still stunned. While he would have criticized her further, he didn't want her to think that he had invested in the emotions of the incident.

Instead, he could only ground his teeth in silence as he cursed the missed opportunity under his fiery breath. "Shit," he scolded. Was she stupid? He would have handled him and then she wouldn't be crying over that asshole. That fierce look in her eyes must have been empty.

No, that wasn't false bravery. Bakugou couldn't revoke her courage. She managed to apprehend her offender after all that. Adeptly and successfully, she had saved herself and left Bakugou forever thirsting for vengeance.

His hand twitched.

Without a doubt, if anyone put their lecherous hands on her again, no one would be able to hold him back from blowing their head clean off of their bodies.

After a quiet evening of homework and video games with Kotone, Bakugou noticed Uraraka's spirit bounce back like a spring. The stress in her reddened face had long since faded and a bright smile replaced any lingering distress.

On the train that night, as they went through a tunnel, she hopped over to Bakugou's side and sat centimeters away from him.

Simple and addictive like bubble wrap, she enjoyed pressing Bakugou's numerous buttons. Since he had yet to kill her, maybe that meant she could continue.

Recalling Bakugou's wild, red eyes from earlier that day, Uraraka wondered if he wanted to save her. While she initially failed to believe her vision, she brushed away her denial and began to realize that he wanted to kill that man. There was more in his eyes - fear, possibly. Open, dilated eyes of terror behind his glare. Albeit faint, she noticed the notion as soon as she glanced at the assailant.

"No, you, get the fuck back to the other side," Bakugou scolded as he pointed to the place she had originally sat.

Instead of obeying him, she only giggled - genuinely and playfully, "Oh, Bakugou."

How sick. Bakugou wondered if this buddy-buddy stuff was a game for Uraraka. She must have known how effortlessly she could knock him off balance and disrupt his tightly-wound world like her personal lot of firecrackers.

He jumped up and walked over to the other side instead of waiting for her to do so. This coy, cutesy act annoyed him. He wanted her to be angry or afraid of him. In an attempt to look away, he turned to stare out the windows of the train. "You're annoying," he lamented aloud as he narrowed his eyes. Before a few weeks ago, they hadn't interacted, and suddenly, she talked to him like they had been friends for the past year.

Sticking her tongue out, she nodded, "I don't get you, either, but that's okay. I can try." Pressing the back of her finger to her chin, she pondered his personality. "Hmm, you're pretty heroic, Bakugou. You're kinda a rough and tough guy. And, even though you're violent, you wanna use your powers for good. We might have different outlooks, but I hope we can be friends."

She believed that. Maybe part of her wanted to show off her strength. If she had been with Midoriya, would she have been as strong? Or would she have relied on him to save her?

"Another one of those stupid analyses?" thought Bakugou. He resented her attempt to placate and read him. "Friends? I already told you that we're going to get married," he groaned.

In that peaceable moment, he just impulsively cut through the calm atmosphere with his selfish intentions. Uraraka frowned and mumbled, "Bakugou." Right, his pride in becoming her partner and the fact that he paid her any attention at all was so that his future children could inherit both of their abilities.

"What? Did you forget? Did you think we were on a fucking date or something?" he snarled as he spoke. "The only reason I gave a shit about that pervert was so that he and everybody else knows that nobody touches what's mine." When he glanced back over at her, he expected tears or distress and hopefully a glimmer of panic in her wavering demeanor. In fact, he would have preferred fear or tears over the placid and intrigued smile that caught his eye.

Maybe her exhaustion muddled her judgment, or maybe she was too much of an optimist, but Uraraka suddenly didn't buy the tough guy act anymore. Besides, his words couldn't affect her too much when her heart belonged to Midoriya. "Yeah, okay, Bakugou," she yawned and stretched. Rule number one in Bakugology: disregard his claims of detachment or anything he says for that matter.

When she fell asleep, Bakugou was at a loss for the second time that day. For a time, he watched her softly inhale and exhale. Her mesmerizing rhythm hypnotized him into a drowsy state.

He could imagine himself approaching her and caressing the perfect, round edge of her cherubic cheeks. He contemplated whether or not she would feel as soft as she appeared. Mochi cheeks. The sweet aroma of her hair would probably complement its silky texture. Her soft snores caused the corners of his mouth to twitch, and once he realized the sensation, he averted his stare elsewhere.

Why? Why? Why? 

Rubbing his temples, he tried to force the images from his mind and replaced it with the raw anger that he felt earlier that day. How could someone try to do something like that to someone like her?

The doors opened at their stop, and he got to his feet and back to reality. Easily, he could have and probably should have left her on the train by herself for facetiously snickering and smirking at him for most of that day. She deserved it.

But no, her parted lips and sprawled body gave off a vulnerability - the same vision that plagued him - that would attract others to attack her. Or worse. He kicked the seat beneath her and cursed, "Oi! Get the hell up before I murder you."

She wiped her eyes and looked up at Bakugou, "Okay. Wait for me, will ya'?"

"No." He walked towards the automatic doors with his backpack in his hands.

Uraraka whined, "Bakugou!" She hurriedly grabbed her belongings and ran out the doors after him. He woke her up so that she wouldn't be alone, didn't he?

Chapter Text

Bakugou opened the door to his dorm room, and on his bed, a matured, exceptionally voluptuous Uraraka lied curled up with her long, brown hair sprawled across the silky red sheets - waiting for him. She wore his t-shirt and his socks and his underwear! How did she even get ahold of something like that?

"Hey, Katsuki," she sang as she yawned.

What? Katsuki? Only his family called him that.

His body acted on its own as he lifted her shirt and pulled down her shorts. His hands began to roam her body with reckless abandon.

"Oh, Katsuki," she sang in a different pitch.

"Haha. You like that, huh?" He would never say something like that!

Her reddened cheeks and frequent, happy gasps made her look like an idiot to him. And as sweat dripped down her face, he followed each drop with his eyes down to her giant, open smile. Drool gathered in the corners of her mouth. Even as his hands wandered to squishy places, his stare fixated on her face before he lowered to kiss her with an astounding thirst. 

His hands wandered for certain spots.

Touching right there caused that kind of note.

And down there caused that kind of note in a different octave.

He played her like an instrument. As he groped her, her voice inched higher.

"You're the best, Bakugou," she managed to moan.

That situation escalated into new, rhythmic motions and from there into ecstatic sensations that he had yet to feel through combat with a fraction of the physical exertion that he ever put into training.

Then, he felt the most pleasurable explosion he had ever unleashed.

When Bakugou woke up from the apparent dream, he realized that he ruined his sheets. "What the fuck was that!?" he yelled.

Uraraka had tried to interact with Bakugou earlier the following day. She attempted conversations with him, and she even tried to compliment him. To no avail, he shot her down. He had shielded his face from her all day by either turning his entire body away or burying his head in his crossed arms. His actions caused her to check her face a few times in the mirror.

Midoriya may have done that a few times in the past, but he certainly never growled while doing so. Plus, Midoriya would always at least attempt conversing with her.

When she finally saw Bakugou's face after class, every inch had reddened to the hue of his crimson eyes as he twitched and convulsed with what she thought to be hatred. He must have been outraged with her. Following her glimpse of his profile, he about faced and walked in the opposite direction.

Before his shift in demeanor, they had civil interactions. On the days of their late excursions to see Kotone, they met in the gym for an even later night workout. Then, suddenly, he vanished from her routine. Maybe she complimented him too much, or maybe she poked fun at him too much.

She tried to replay the past few days to see what she may have done wrong.

By the time the weekend arrived, she had noticed her gut feel heavy and a bit emptier. When she passed by Bakugou's dorm room, she lingered near the idea of knocking and confronting him for a chance at rekindling their delicate friendship. If she waltzed up to his private quarters, then he'd almost definitely lash out at her for invading his personal space. That wouldn't work.

Since they lived on the same floor, she overheard Kirishima invite him to an arcade. While she could have brought Iida and Midoriya along, she knew that would be fighting the fire with oil. Bakugou hated them. Instead, she opted to go alone.

On the way there, she assured herself that she wasn't stalking Bakugou. Rather, she practiced some investigative field work to understand her allies. If she could somehow find a way to cooperate with the most stubborn and callous person in her class, then maybe she'd work towards an S-rank cooperativeness grade one day.

No, she didn't have to justify her actions. Genuinely, she wanted to be on good terms with her partner. Just a few days ago, she would tell anyone if they asked that she had made progress. 

Uraraka stopped to gulp down a lump in her throat. While she would not be as naive as to assume that she captured Bakugou into a friendship, she mourned his company.

Her family had sent her a bit of spending money. Putting aside the money that she bought had plagued her conscience. Plus, what if this was the wrong arcade?

Nearly an hour passed, and she checked over her shoulder every moment. Maybe she should have invited her friends. If Midoriya were there, then she wouldn't feel like she had squandered her money. However, as she dug through her bag for her final token, she held out hope that Bakugou would show up and make the entire effort worthwhile.

She climbed into an alien-killing game located in a secluded booth and began to load her last token before the black curtains ruffled and ash blond hair poked through. Her already alert eyes grew and glimmered as her heart nearly leaped from her chest. "Bakugou!" she cheered as she eagerly pulled his arm towards her.

A tingling sensation rose to her face as she grinned. All that waiting was worthwhile after all.

"What?" said Bakugou. Of all the games in the building, he played that one the most. And, of all the times he visited that cheap arcade, he had never seen Uraraka there before. "What the hell is going on?" This encounter had to be some intervention.

"Come! Play this with me. Don't tell me that you think I'm gonna beat you," challenged Uraraka as she pointed at Bakugou's face with her free hand just like she rehearsed.

Somehow, his depraved sexual dream dissolved into nothing when he laid eyes on Uraraka's untainted, rosy cheeks. A girl like that couldn't possibly make a face like the woman in his nocturnal fantasy. He sprang at the chance to banter back and mischievously smirked, "Beat me? At Planet of Devastation: Vile Panic Strikes Back? Think again, round-face."

Uraraka showed her teeth when she grinned until she could hardly see through her elated eyes. So then, they had regained their peculiar bond like nothing ever happened. If she could withhold her curiosity of why he acted the way he did, then she just knew that they would have a pleasant time.

Picking up her last coin, she pushed it into the slot. They could enjoy that one game together.

The game began.

A slight notion of doom settled into Bakugou's chest as soon as he sat down next to Uraraka. A unique type of nervous energy rattled his limbs for a few moments before he gulped. Their shoulders grazed each other, and the sudden contact beckoned for him to glance over at her black tank top.

Then, again their shoulders brushed when she leaned over to take a shot at an approaching virtual enemy.

Once more.

Bakugou would have destroyed the toy gun in his hand if he had any less restraint. Grounding his teeth, he cursed upon looking at the score, "Shit." If Uraraka had have worn something that didn't reveal the eye-catching cleavage of her feminine chest, then he would have won. He would have voiced that excuse if it weren't a potential future weakness of his that she could exploit. The fact that he gave a speck of a shit about her fashion choice endlessly irritated him.

By the images of his dreams, he knew what lied beneath that thin cloth anyway.

"Ugh," complained Bakugou. He acknowledged that he shouldn't have allowed his mind to wander back to his NIGHTMARE. Retracting his arm closer to his body, he attempted to keep an adequate distance.

Uraraka thought to herself with authentic disappointment, "I didn't think you'd hold back." A frown dropped onto her face.

Regardless, she couldn't even play a rematch, for she had spent her last coin.

When he didn't respond, she jumped at the opportunity to excuse herself. If she had to admit her poverty in front of him again, she'd probably die. Forcing a yawn, she said, "I was thinking about heading back to the dorms. I'm kinda tired, ya know?" She stretched her arms into the air. "Maybe that can be our rematch for the Sports Festival." 

If she wanted to go, then she probably shouldn't have said that.

Bakugou, who, at the time, withdrew into his thoughts to understand what went wrong decided that he rather cover her with his overshirt. And why the fuck did she have to stretch like that? Didn't she know that her breasts bounced when she did that? She pulled that shit in his dream, too. 

He shook his head to rid his thoughts and instinctually growled at the flippant remark. "This isn't a fucking rematch. I'm gonna kick your ass for saying that later. Plus, that win is bogus without another round," he grumbled as he shoved coins into the slots. "If you take this seriously, then stop yawning."

"Okay," she agreed as she bit her bottom lip and nodded with a small smile. Uraraka saw that he paid without any snarky remarks, and when the realization hit her, she didn't know how to react. She wouldn't be able to pay him back if he asked - maybe with the few tickets she won. If she thanked him, then he'd probably immediately jump out of the game.

Meanwhile, she noticed her heavy breathing as she glanced over at him with a buoyant heart and a glittery sensation in her cheeks. Maybe she needed to think a little less.

As he slaughtered her in the following round, Uraraka witnessed an amazing combo of 100 kills and joyously squealed, "You're amazing, Bakugou!"

He stopped pulling the trigger and froze in place as his eye twitched and mouth contorted into a tight frown. She moaned those words in his dream. Maybe the two Urarakas had more similarities than he initially thought. Shaking his head again, he reminded himself of the context, and when he narrowly escaped with a victory, he noticed her wide-eyed, obvious stare linger on his face.

Her eyebrows furrowed as she frowned once more. "Sorry. Was that too much?" she asked. "You keep making that twitchy face."

Taking off his black over-shirt, he threw it at her. "No! I'm fine! I just haven't played this in a while, and these cheapskates need to turn up the AC," lied Bakugou.

"Really? I'm actually a little chilly. I shouldn't have worn something so thin. So, thanks, I guess," replied Uraraka as she stuck out her tongue.

"Then hurry up and put it on!" he urged. His shoulders rigidly hunched with each word.

She jumped at the sudden gravity in his growl. "Wah? Put it on? Are you sure?" However, she dressed in his edgy, skull t-shirt. At least, she felt a little warmer. Pleasantly melting into her seat, she raised her eyebrows when she noticed Bakugou shove more coins in for another game.

"Best 3 out of 5, round-face. I'm going to murder you."

"Okay," she nodded as she stifled verbal gratitude and grabbed her toy gun.

Kirishima passed by a few games as he searched for Bakugou. He had suddenly disappeared. Over the past few days, he noticed that Bakugou seemed a lot more flustered and would lash out at anyone around him. Twitchy and boisterous, he even yelled at Kaminari the day before. Then, when they went out to the arcade, he kept his distance and played games alone for the most part.

Something changed, and when he spotted Bakugou across the room in a shadowed booth of his favorite game, he began to stride towards them. That was until he noticed his companion - a girl!

So that was why Bakugou ditched their sparring sessions for the gym on some nights. Maybe they worked out together. Kirishima honestly thought he had taken an interest in Uraraka, but he hadn't seen them converse all that week.

When Bakugou emerged from the game, Kirishima gasped and subsequentially ducked when he caught sight of the girl. She was Uraraka! Covering his mouth, he pumped his fist. "Alright, Bakugou!" he cheered under his breath.

Wait. Did they switch shirts?

Oh man, Kirishima invited Kaminari to come along, but if he wanted today to go smoothly for his friend, he would have to cancel. So, he texted him, "Hey, Bakugou bailed, so let's go to the shitty place closer to the dorm instead."

Meanwhile, Uraraka tried to think of an adequate excuse to get out of revealing her empty wallet to Bakugou. However, he pointed at game after game and shoved coins from his pocket into the slots. She figured that he enjoyed having a punching bag since she had virtually no talent with video games. Maybe something with hand eye coordination like Dance Dance Revolution would have been better, but she couldn't picture Bakugou playing something that embarrassing.

Bakugou heard Uraraka giggle to herself. Why would she giggle? Was she having fun?

He had no reason to pay mind to what she wanted to play. He had a strict routine of games that he played every time he visited that particular location, but he noticed how fast he burned through his stock of coins. Since Kirishima ditched him, he needed someone to help him get the maximum amount of tickets.

That would be his excuse for letting her stick around. Though, he curiously awaited every second they spent together.

They wouldn't be able to play his typical final game. He noticed her eye the skeeball. They wouldn't get a lot of tickets from that, but if she were good at it, then maybe they could get enough for an adequate prize.

Without warning, he loaded his tokens and turned back to her. "This is really fucking easy, so if you don't get any tickets, then I'll kill you."

Careful not to acknowledge that he willfully paid for her, she raised her eyebrows at his eagerness to play. What a success that day had been. They played together all day like friends would. Even though he cursed and swore at every opportunity, the atmosphere kept a smile on her face. With a spring in her step, she grabbed a ball with the palm of her hands and melodically rolled it up the ramp and directly to the center.

"Jackpot!" alerted the machine as it spat over 1,000 tickets out.

"What? Look, Bakugou!" shouted Uraraka as she jumped and grabbed his arm. "I got the jackpot on the first try!"

Their cheeks centimeters apart, Bakugou scratched his collarbone as he urgently smothered a growing smile until he proudly smirked. Allowing her to hang onto him for a few moments more, he wondered why he didn't want to attack her.

Racing heart, euphoria, and a bit of nausea - that's what he felt with Uraraka by his side.

His palms dripped with sweat. Although they certainly could not continue playing in their position, he failed to push her way and instead groaned, "Alright, round face, keep rolling. We're gonna run out of time."

When she separated from him, she hesitated to continue playing and pulled at a strand of her hair. Maybe she got ahead of herself, for she could have sworn that she saw him smile, too.

Uraraka nearly screamed and cried when she noticed the time on her phone. The cafeteria closed half an hour before. Desperate tears gathered in the corners of her eyes as they stood around the prize booth. Quickly, she wiped her face before saying, "Well, this was fun, Bakugou. We should do this again sometime. Maybe I'll actually beat you at something besides skeeball," she laughed before twirling around to the exit.

His firm hand gripped her shoulder and jerked her back. "Where the fuck do you think you're going?" growled Bakugou. "We're going to the same place."

She gasped and pointed to a green shirt that looked like the skin of green grenade. "Bakugou, that's perfect. Did you see that?"

Bakugou narrowed his eyes at the article of clothing and slammed his tickets on the counter. "Give that to me!" he demanded. The cashier handed the t-shirt to him with a lofty sigh. "Uraraka, hurry up and get something. I don't want to stay in this dump anymore."

"Me? Uh," Uraraka stammered. "Okay. I want that necklace with the star." Pointing to the yellow, Mario-esque, chubby star on a silver chain, she sucked in her lips to prevent a prevalent smile. She knew not to thank him.

The heroine's stomach growled on their way out the building. She dangled the chain in front of her face and gave herself a victory sign. A token a friendship and triumph hung in her hands. Not every day and certainly not everyone got a chance to befriend the class pugilist. Maybe she felt a little too excited. Her heart hadn't calmed for a while.

Then, again, she was probably just hungry.

As they walked down a darkening city street, neon lights shined on the various storefronts. If only she hadn't spent her money at the arcade, then she'd be able to at least stop at a street vendor.

Bakugou made a turn away from the direction of their school.

In turn, Uraraka stood at the crossroads and watched as Bakugou continued into the shopping district. He glared over his shoulder and said, "Stop standing there like a fucking idiot."

He would never admit this, but Uraraka had bonuses that came along with her useful quirk. He found appeal in the way Uraraka's hair curved around her round face, and the melody of her laugh pleased him as well. Her energetic and passionate adulation boosted his gaming performance, too. Their proximity gave him a rush especially on the off moments their arms bumped into each other.

As he walked, he enjoyed the warmth of her stare on his back.

Rubbing his neck, he figured he had many rational reasons to keep her by his side.

Uraraka sweat bullets the entire stroll to the restaurant of Bakugou's whim, and when she pointed out a familiar, Japanese restaurant, he scolded her for thinking she had any choice in the matter before he entered the traditional style building anyway.

"Don't tell me you're fucking broke. This is the cheapest damn place on the block. I guess poor people like you have to ask for food," Bakugou taunted as he pulled out his wallet that had just enough money to cover her as well. However, being the sadistic guy that he was, he wanted to hear her beg. After all, he already said that he'd take care of her one day. If she wanted to be stubborn enough to reject that offer, then he would have to push her until she came crawling.

Smirking, he glanced up and expected his intimidation to get through to her. Sure, sweat jumped from her glistening face, but her pensive stare furrowed in the direction of her bag. Her permanent blush at the tips of her cheeks paled in comparison to the fluster that he imagined. Why didn't his taunt affect her? He realized that she had run out of money back at the arcade.

A bright, toothy grin popped onto her face as she revealed her plan in the form of a small ticket. "It's okay, cuz I've got some coupons!" she boasted. In fact, she hardly heard Bakugou's rant about her poverty. Holding up two fingers, she added, "2 for 1. I got a whole bunch, so get whatever you want. I got one for a free dessert, too."

Bakugou then wondered how he could ever win over someone as independent as her. He censured with a scoff, "Fuckin' mooch."

Standing up, she dropped everything she held onto the table and lowered her head. "Bakugou," she muttered in a low, shaking voice. "I know you paid for the games we played together because I ran out of money. I was really happy that we could have lots of fun together. And, I know you said you'd pay for me when I got older. But, I don't want that. Quit bullying me for not being able to buy the things that I want."

When Bakugou witnessed her try to leave their booth, his chest wrung and he reluctantly blurted, "Don't tell me you dragged me to this shitty place just to leave me here." He had doubted he could debilitate her that easily, yet there she was - abruptly fleeing from him.

Even though she needed to wipe her face, she knew that doing so would let him know of the tears that fell from her eyes. "I'm trying to be a pro hero. I'm doing my best, and I'm gonna use this damn coupon," she demanded before she plopped back down into her seat.

That side was the girl that Bakugou wanted to see.

He smirked at the fruit of his berating. After all, how many people got to see the gutsy face of Uraraka?

When the waitress came around, Bakugou ordered, "Give me the mapo tofu."

"Me too!" added Uraraka before she corrected her urgent and passionate outburst. "I mean, me, too!"

"How plucky," thought Bakugou as he averted his gaze to the window beside them. He stared at her reflection instead, for looking at her directly on caused his heart to race too fast to the point that he hardly felt like stuffing food into his mouth. In fact, in that moment, he hungered for days like that with her over everything else.

"I'm sorry for blowing up like that," Uraraka apologized. "I should have thanked you earlier, but I was afraid that you'd get mad and leave."

Bakugou had no response. Her thanks meant nothing. Alone, her gratitude neither angered him nor pleased him.

"Now, I'm not gonna back down. I'll tell you whatever I'm thinking because no matter what you're probably gonna get angry, right?" Uraraka laughed as she sipped on the water that the waitress served to her. For that spicy meal, she would probably need a lot.

No, he felt obligated to pay for her as long as she stayed by his side. As she spoke, he shifted from side to side in his seat. He wanted to be with her because he found her company more enjoyable than exploding objects and enemies. These sentiments failed to come to fruition in his silenced mind. Instead, he focused on his growling stomach.

After they had finished eating, Bakugou abruptly snatched the coupon from under Uraraka's nose and threw it across the room while she chugged down the rest of her water.

The anti-gravity girl wondered if he harbored rancor against the ordeal after their "heart to heart." Maybe she held a one sided confrontation with him instead of the breakthrough conversation that she imagined. Bending down, she retrieved the small, crumbled ticket from beneath a table. When she returned, she asked, "Hey, Bakugou, why'd you do that?"

Quickly, he snatched the small sheet of paper from her, blew it up, and then rushed out the building with a frightening shade of blood red illuminating his face.

"What?" she shrieked. What was she supposed to do? That was her only way to pay. Maybe she had another coupon or enough cash to cover her part. She gulped as her trembling hands navigated the pockets of her bag. Why would he do something like that? This predicament was her fault for getting close to Bakugou.

If he used this whole day just to make a fool out of her, then she had no reason to hope for a better friendship. Her chest tightened as tears came to the corners of her eyes. The stress in her heart worsened over her thoughts and memories with Bakugou rather than her monetary dilemma.

The waitress approached her and bowed, "Have a good night."

"Wah?" Uraraka gasped, "I didn't pay."

"Your boyfriend paid for you," explained the waitress. "Young love is tricky like that I suppose."

Boyfriend? Did she mean Bakugou? Before she could think to correct her, Uraraka made eye contact with Bakugou through the window as a grin burst onto her face. He had been waiting for her. She carelessly allowed her residual tears to fall from her eyes as she watched him turn away. Darting down the aisles and out the door, she wanted to hug him, but she knew that would be a straight ticket to a sordid scorn.

Instead, she clasped her hands together behind her back and tried to catch up to him. She noted in a sing-song voice, "You waited for me, and you paid. Thank you a lot. Today was amazing! I had lots of fun."

He tried to pick up the pace so that she didn't see his heated face. "Don't think anything special is happening. I don't want to be seen with people that miss curfew. And," he stammered with a brief pause. "I only had that kind of bill, and I didn't feel like waiting for the change, so consider yourself lucky."

"You're the meanest good guy I know," Uravity pointed out as she stroked the star chain that hung around her neck.

"I don't give a fuck what you think."

Uraraka mused out loud as she looked to the sky, "I hope we have more days like this, you know? Only, next time I'll make sure I can pay for myself. Maybe I could even pay for a meal for you." Of course, she knew that she would have to ride the Bakugou rollercoaster a few more times before she could handle nausea and stress of it all. However, simply hanging out with him outweighed his volatile idiosyncrasies.

"You're never going to fucking pay for me! I already told you how things will go after we get," the blond began until he trailed off because, for some stupid reason, he felt as if reminding her of their future marriage exposed a desire that had dug deeper into his mind than he could handle. With all his might, as he panted and seethed, he could not force out the word "married."

Something inside Bakugou grew as he gulped, and he didn't know how to kill it. However, the next day he had a lot more gusto in his work out.

Chapter Text

"Oi!" Bakugou shouted from outside Uraraka's door as he pounded his knuckles against the wood. "Oi!" He had been doing this for a solid minute, and he swore that in a few more moments, he would burst down the door.

Kirishima who gently guided him to the poor girl's door regretted doing so. Sweat slid down his temple as he sighed, "Dude, she's probably getting dressed or something. Maybe you should give her a minute." While catching Bakugou and Uraraka at the arcade impressed him, he had second thoughts on whether or not Bakugou should continue to hang out with her.

"I don't have time to wait until she decides to do with her life. I gotta go eat, and this is about our project. If she doesn't come out in the next five seconds, I'm going to BUST DOWN THIS DAMN DOOR!" the explosive young man threatened. He had just finished his shower, so theoretically, he could have gone to finish getting dressed. After all, he only had on green shorts and a white undershirt. The fact that his partner had the audacity to ignore his knocking disturbed him.

When a pink pajama-clad Uraraka emerged with a cell phone that she held close to her ears with two hands, she had a small smile pop onto her face when she looked up at Bakugou.

Kirishima lifted an eyebrow. Did she enjoy their turbulent interaction? No, she must have had such a light-hearted expression because of the person she talked to on the phone. He wouldn't take her for a masochist.

Bakugou barked, "Are you makin' fun of me?"

To the person on the phone, she whispered, "Hold on, Papa, my study buddy's here."

"What the fuck did you just call me?" Bakugou growled as he tightened both of his fists. So that he could continue the ruse that what he had to say was urgent, he continued, "We're going to spend two hours at Kotone's tomorrow. Got that?"

The girl that defied gravity accepted Bakugou's request and nodded, "Yeah, okay. That's fine. We have that test on Friday. I think she'll understand."

"And another thing," added Bakugou as he leaned down to snatch her phone from her grasp. He held the cell phone as he twisted his body so that it was at the highest point possible while pressed against his ear so that she couldn't reach it. "Hey, this is Bakugou Katsuki. Just so you don't get the wrong idea, I'm going to marry your daughter at all costs - no matter what. From now on, I'll be the one to take care of her." Despite his need to cover his face as he spoke, he could finally manage to say the word marriage as long as he averted his eyes from Uraraka's round face.

Even if he couldn't immediately afford to take care of her, he'd find a way to find the money somehow. With that, he tossed the phone to Uraraka. He had no way of making his point more clear to her - he would not let her out of his grasp.

When Uraraka finally caught it after jumping and squirming beneath him, she staggered back into her doorway and narrowed her eyes up at Bakugou. "I can't believe you!" she whined before resuming her phone call. "P-Papa, that's not true. He's just joking around."

"I'm not fucking around!" Bakugou snarled as he flashed his teeth. For that short conversation, he kept his language as neutral as possible, too. Neutral as in not extremely disrespectful.

Damage control! Uraraka's conversation had spiraled out of control until she physically became dizzy. With a straight face, she assured, "No, he's not my boyfriend. He's my study buddy."

Kirishima could hardly handle the intensity of these two. "Dude," he muttered as he covered his face. If Bakugou wanted to marry this girl one day, even the inexperienced Kirishima knew that this tactic wasn't the way to do it.

Bakugou ranted at the audacity of such a title. He complained, "A study buddy? Are you kidding me?" Before he glared back down in her direction, he would have corrected her, but her direct stare halted his declaration as her deep, brown eyes made contact with him.

"Yes, don't worry. I'm safe - I can handle myself," sighed Uraraka on the phone as she closed the door in Bakugou's face. "Violent? No, he's alright. He's my friend, and he's protective of me." She paused before she mentioned his protective nature, for she had no better explanation for his behaviors. In a way, he had been protective of her in the past - or else, why would he want to escort her home or kill that pervert on the train? Of course, she couldn't mention those incriminating moments to her father.

Like clockwork, Bakugou began pounding on her door again.

Uraraka nervously laughed, "I'll call you back later, Papa. I promise to be safe. Don't worry." When she ended the phone call and opened the door, she reminded herself to let Bakugou know whatever came to her mind. Jerking the door open, she planted her feet firmly to the ground to compete in Bakugou's glaring contest as he huffed and puffed like the wolf that he was. "What do you want? Why did you have to embarrass me like that? My dad's gonna be super worried now!"

Crossing his arms, Bakugou thought he matched her resilience, "I just told him the truth."

"What truth? That's not the truth! I'm not going to marry you."

Her lack of acceptance had zero relevance, but when she uttered the word "marry," he had to turn away. "Don't shit around here all day like an idiot. Go eat breakfast."

"Yeah, I'm about to go with Deku now. I just gotta get dressed for school first. Thank you for caring about me," she muttered before shutting the door in his face. While she did not intend to provoke him by mentioning Midoriya, she certainly had a slightly haughty tone in her gratitude for his concern.

Bakugou's eyebrow twitched as he turned around and yelled, "Fucker! I don't give a shit about you! I don't want to be lumped in with idiots who skip meals."

Maybe Kirishima should have left earlier. This awkward scene between them was too difficult for him to witness. By association, he became embarrassed by Bakugou's awkward attempt at whatever kind of confrontation he just had with Uraraka's father. He began to lose faith that Bakugou liked her at all.

Upon recalling the expressions on Uraraka's face, he supposed that she could properly handle him, so he had no reason to worry.

On the other hand, Bakugou panted as he finally willed himself away from Uraraka's door. She mentioned Midoriya, and he only thought of his old, childhood friend for a split second upon the realization that Uraraka seemed specifically fond of him. A vein in his forehead twitched as he nearly connected the dots to deduce her crush on Midoriya.

"Are you okay, man? Let's go get something to eat."

Kirishima snapped him from his contemplation.

"Yeah. Yeah, alright."

Casual. And fun. Even when Bakugou argued with Uraraka, he anticipated more moments of her company - not in the romantic sense like some of the couples he noticed around the world as of late. He would rather die before he allowed another person to cling to him. Sure enough, he had quite the troubling Monday.

"Kirishima said you disappeared yesterday. Where did you go?" Hanta asked with his signature grin. They also invited him to the arcade. While Kirishima had eerily failed to question Bakugou's disappearance, both Hanta and Kaminari couldn't abate their curiosity.

Bakugou said nothing at his desk that morning. He continued reviewing his notes from the past week and avoided eye contact with whoever asked him about his whereabouts over the weekend. When Hanta repeated the question, Bakugou glared up at them and replied, "I didn't feel like being around you guys." This response had to be an obvious lie, for he was one of the few people willing to traverse the city for his favorite arcade.

Out of nowhere, his round-faced partner appeared in front of his acquaintances, and out of turn, she answered, "Where did Bakugou go? We went to a restaurant. I didn't know he was supposed to be hanging out with you. Were you guys at the arcade, too?"

Kaminari, the busy body, stifled a chuckle as his eyes watered. "You were hanging out with Uraraka, huh?"

Gritting his teeth and lowering his brow, Bakugou glowered and intended to pierce Uraraka with a furious, red glare.

Kirishima chimed in from the comfort of his desk. Matter-of-factly, he added, "Yeah, I knew about it. They had to work on some project stuff." He knew that would only be a temporary band-aid, but there was a chance that Bakugou was serious about Uraraka. He had to do something to help.

The anti-gravity girl shook her head. "No, it wasn't stuff for the project. We just bumped into each other and spent the day together," Uraraka corrected him with a smile as she stepped closer to Bakugou's desk. She failed to understand the message encoded into his glare, and she knew that his reasoning could be anything that happened. He probably didn't like the fact that people interrogated him that early in the morning. The least she could do was explain some discrepancies. "We had a lot of fun, too."

An uproar of laughter came from someone behind him.

"Shut your damn mouth, round-face," threatened Bakugou as he gripped the edge of his desk with sweaty hands.

Still laughing and spectating the scene, Kaminari chuckled, "Having fun, huh? Sounds like a fateful encounter."

"You shut the fuck up before I blow your fucking head off," Bakugou shouted. Every damn day with this bull shit. He grabbed his head and ruffled his already messy hair as he rued announcing his plans to the world. For some reason, his paranoia sky rocketed as he figured everyone hung on every word he said. Around the classroom, quieter classmates probably listened in on their conversation. His heart raced, and when he glanced up to glare at Uraraka until she somehow remedied the situation, but she left.

Midoriya had entered the room, so nothing else mattered to the anti-gravity girl.

"See? You drove her away."

That didn't matter if Uraraka fled for a time, for he would eventually drag her back to him. She seemed to respect him enough to hold a proper conversation, and at that time, that's all he could admit that he wanted out of their interactions. As his stare traced her every move, he complained, "Like I give a shit. That girl can do what she wants with who she wants."

That day he decided not to share his intentions with anyone else. Whenever he mentioned or even thought of marriage, his heart sank into uncertainty, and that weighted sensation could only hold him away from his goals. Much like his reasoning for expelling the word from his vocabulary, he wanted to avoid the public exposure of his vulnerability.

No, he had yet to find the words to articulate such a mortifying Achille's heel. In his mind and words, he rationalized his fear as a proper precaution to prevent others from misinterpreting his goals for offspring. He certainly didn't want for others to see him as insufferably maudlin.

Surely, he had been protective of his reputation in the past, but this kind of guarded pride differed in that he felt a limitless void of a risk.

Kirishima saw a lot over those past few days, and he already knew that Bakugou's fixation with Uraraka must have grown into a full-on crush. If everyone kept pushing him too much, then he would do something drastic and ruin his chances with her.

Uraraka would have had a quaint and peaceful lunch with her friends. Being near Midoriya was always enough to energize her for the days like that day when she didn't have any food to eat. Conveniently, she told them that she had a hearty breakfast which she also skipped.

Until she could figure a proper way to deal with her love for him, those lovely afternoons with their friend, Iida, would be all that happened. She solemnly smiled in their direction as the comfort of their company warmed her.

She deeply regretted not telling Midoriya and Iida about her weekend excursion with Bakugou. She couldn't figure out why. After all, she only met him for video games and food. Family members did that with each other, so doing that with an acquaintance should not have had any shame attached to it. By the time Iida asked her where she had disappeared to the day before, she hesitated to answer.

"Oh, I just went to the arcade with Bakugou," she raised a finger as if she suddenly remembered her whereabouts.

Iida and Midoriya both raised their eyebrows, but her quick friend was first one to interject, "Just Bakugou? Why?"

Her heart thumped. Uraraka knew there would be cautious curiosity. She explained, "You know, I just didn't feel like hanging out with anyone, really. Then, I ran into him by coincidence. We went to the arcade and to some restaurant."

Unbeknownst to her, the excuse she gave her friends minimally differed from Bakugou's.

Straightening her collar, she further concealed the star necklace that she had won alongside Bakugou. She also hid the fact that she literally staked out in the facility before he arrived. Eagerly, her ears perked to await her crush's response.

Midoriya smiled, "Did you have fun? That's pretty cool that you two got to hang out outside of class."

"Y-Yeah," nodded Uraraka. While she could ease her fear that she may have hurt Midoriya, she wished to know more about his opinion and sentiments. At least, he wasn't jealous.

Without hesitation, Iida voiced his concern as he pensively frowned. "Just be careful, Uraraka. If you get too close to him, then he might take advantage of your kindness. Don't forget that he had that vicious outburst in front of everyone a few weeks ago, and I have many reasons to believe that he's a danger to you as his target," he sternly warned her.

Before she could respond, Midoriya interjected, "I'm glad you guys are friends now. From what I remember, he's amazing at video games. Also, I don't think Kacchan would hurt someone like you."

"He already did," reminded Iida. He referred to the Sports Festival.

Midoriya remembered that nail biting spectacle that had him on the edge of his seat. He chuckled as he rubbed the back of his head, "Oh, right, but that was during a tournament. He did that out of respect."

Without a verbal response, Iida merely sighed.

Not only did Uraraka feel like she betrayed her crush, but she worried that she took an old friend of his that he still admired. "Maybe you two can be friends one day, too. I think you're way cooler than him anyway, so he'd be the lucky one. You're kinder than him and stronger than him and just an all around better person to hang out with - I'm sorry I didn't invite you," she apologized with a heavy blush at the tip of her cheeks.

Pausing to think, Midoriya chose his words carefully when he stuttered, "T-Thank you. You don't have to apologize. We probably wouldn't have gotten along anyway." He appreciated the adulation coming from such a cute girl, and while he could acknowledge his personal growth, he still felt inferior to Bakugou. The guarded Midoriya could only interpret his friend's applause as platonic respect at most, for he had a difficult time believing that such an attractive, wonderful girl would have any romantic interest in him. Despite her praise, a slight tinge of pain had shot through his racing heart when he heard that they casually met alone.

Guilt sank in as he hoped that she didn't pick up on that slight notion of disappointment in his gut.

Fortunately, she only saw an unyielding plaintive smile as he stared at the ground. To mask her true feelings, she wanted to dial back her compliments. After all, those sentiments impeded their goals as future heroes. "I'd never marry someone like him or even fall for him," she promised as her heart jumped. Oh no, hopefully, Midoriya didn't see that as an implication that she saw him as a future husband.

Husband? Midoriya as her husband? Why did she think of that?

"I've heard rumors that Bakugou just likes you because Midoriya hangs out with you a lot. You know how he is with him," Iida explained as he straightened his glasses.

"Wah? Bakugou doesn't like me. We're hardly friends," she immediately denied the slander as her fluster straightened into a distraught grimace. "Who said that?"

Iida smiled, "Yeah, I was aware. I heard it in the hallways." He half-way lied, for he had speculated that Bakugou had some attachment to his floaty friend.

Midoriya had his opinions on the matter, and he also believed that Bakugou had developed a peculiar and unique attraction to Uraraka. He never acted as he had with anyone throughout their lives. "He might not like her in that way, but he definitely respects you, Uraraka," he assured her.

However, she bit her lip and delved deeper into her thoughts as she reviewed their interaction a little earlier that day in class. If people talked about them in the hallways, then he would have been especially callous and under pressure. Her eyes further opened as she gasped. "I have to go," she excused herself. "I'll see you in the next period, 'kay?" She had to fix the conflict before Bakugou pushed her away again.

Knowing him, he probably resented such accusations as a threat to his strength.

Although Midoriya jumped at the urgent concern in her voice, he stayed still and watched her gather her belongings and dash away as he weakly raised his hand to wave.

After departing from her friends at lunch, she did not find Bakugou until class resumed. Before she reached his desk, the bell rang, and a teacher promptly entered. He didn't even look up at her when she passed by and grazed her knuckles along the edge of the desk like he hated.

He must have dashed out of the room when class ended as well, for she had to force herself through troves of people just to get a glimpse of his backside. On Mondays, he usually went to the gym earlier. So then, when she darted down to that facility and changed out of her school uniform, she nearly collapsed when she met him there. Out of breath, she reminded herself to keep a distance and allow him to sniff her hand like the wild animal that he was.

"You sure have a knack for stalking me, round face," Bakugou sneered from his treadmill. He noticed her shirt on backward and inside-out.

"I thought you were gonna run away from me again," she panted as she took a seat on a weight machine.

Once he saw her set up her machine, he knew that he wouldn't be able to get away from her that easily. "I never run away," Bakugou lied, for he had tried to avoid her for most of that day and last week for a separate reason. "Now, fuck off."

Beginning her work out, she continued as if they had an amicable atmosphere amongst them. Denying the glare in his crimson eyes, she explained, "I know why you were super strange this morning now. Don't worry - I know you don't like me. You just wanna marry me for my quirk. So, I won't get the wrong idea, alright?" She gulped as she strained herself to talk and work out. For some reason, she had to push herself more than usual. "Do I get in your way?"

Sometimes, she saw herself as a burden for Midoriya on the off moments that she allowed her infatuation to distract her from combat. A lot of her most contemplative moments revolved around him. Her turmoil centered on whether or not she had the right to hang out with someone else.

Keeping an eye on her reflection, Bakugou noticed her crooked hips and curved back - attributes unfit for such an exercise. Two noticeably dark semi circles bordered the bottom of her heavy eyelids. He snorted, "Ha, nothing gets in my way - especially not you." Truthfully, he had an impromptu early morning workout for the hell of it that morning where he surpassed every goal he put on himself.

"When I think about Deku, I feel happy and proud and invincible. He's someone I wanna be like, and I wanna be close to him, too. But then, he's all I think about. I don't want to get in the way of his dream, and I don't want my feelings to mislead me," she explained as she pulled the pulley and lifted the weights behind her.

Agitated at the fact that she would ever allow a dolt like Midoriya to get in the way of her aspirations, he stopped his treadmill and stomped over to her. Stress reddened his eyes when he pushed her cheeks together and growled, "Will you shut up about Deku? Look at yourself - look at what you're doing right now. Your posture looks like shit, and so do you. If you don't shut up and straighten yourself out, I'm gonna blow your head off."

Why did she let her guard down? Bakugou wondered as he seethed.

Uraraka said the one thing that knocked him off of his ego. "You're not gonna hurt me," she replied with dry eyes free of fear or emotion.

With a pause, he continued his rant, "Give me a break. Do what you want, and stop thinking about him. I thought you were better than this schoolyard crush bullshit, but you're drooling over him and fucking yourself over in the process."

A jolt of electricity pulsed through his body when Bakugou looked down into her endlessly brown and tearful eyes. Lowering his hands to her shoulders and the other down her back to her waist, he pulled her up to his chest. His nose, centimeters from her milk chocolate hair, inhaled her sweet scent as his heart pulsated as his face neared the succulent nape of her neck.

Bakugou obeyed his instinctual desire and brushed the tip of his nose down her soft, round cheek. His tongue slid out to graze her collarbone. Hungry, his teeth gradually followed and brushed the luscious surface of her wan flesh. Slowly, he pinched his teeth around her skin which failed to fully satisfy his voracity.

Uraraka could only hear her heart as her tears halted and dried beneath his thick, hot breath. The same current of electricity flowed through her as well. Her breaths took a tune of their own as she stared him down. How could such lurid behavior tenderly comfort her?

"Dammit, Uraraka," he groaned each syllable of her name or perhaps, he pleaded from his conscience for her presence to have mercy his primal passion. Begrudgingly, as his nose met hers once more, his hand gripped her waist and pulled her closer.

She hadn't had a single coherent thought pass through her mind since he pulled her towards him. The anti-gravity girl realized that the heat on her cheeks came from more than just his breath. As she parted her lips, she expected words to come out, but she stayed silent as Bakugou neared her face. Their eyes never left each other. Somehow, they remained entirely cognizant of each other - and only each other.

"Sorry. Did I - um, I can go. Sorry," apologized Midoriya after he walked through the door.

How long had he been standing there? Neither of them had noticed him enter the otherwise empty room.

Bakugou exclaimed, "Hah?" Despite the outburst, he unconsciously held Uraraka in the same position. Just then, she pushed him into the air with the tip of her fingers and freed herself to run out of the room. Grabbing onto whatever he could, he held part of the weight machine. "Fuck!" he cursed. That obnoxious girl used her quirk on him again. He hated that he let her get the best of him in more ways than one.

"Are you okay, Kacchan?" asked Midoriya as he would have helped him back down to the ground.

"What the fuck are you looking at me for? Go get her you idiot!" ordered Bakugou.

Midoriya hesitated before he ran out the door.

As Bakugou floated grabbed a stationary weight and attempted to pull him towards the ground, he listed out as many unbiased differences between him and Midoriya as he could. Then, he cursed to himself as he wondered why he lost control of himself.

As if amnesia stole his memories, he could not recall his intentions. Certainly, he could not fathom what he would have done if Midoriya never interrupted the scene. Nonetheless, lingering warmth called attention to his arms as he thought aloud, "She better not run away again." Even if Midoriya managed to steal her away, Bakugou would go to the ends of hell to drag her back to him.

Like a harsh reminder, gravity forced him back to the ground. She must have gotten away far enough.

On the way out of the gym and back to her dormitory, Uraraka wanted to puke, and if she saw her reflection embracing Bakugou one more time, then she would have. As much as she could ascertain from the recollection of the mirror's perspective, her fatigue claimed her memory.

Midoriya! He witnessed her thoughtless incident. Midoriya was the only person from that scene that mattered to her. What did he think? Hopefully, he didn't misconstrue the situation as far as to assume that she enjoyed what happened.

As Uraraka passed through the commons, Jirou casually approached her along with Ashido and Yaoyorozu. Unfortunately, they seemed to want to talk to her. The dizzy and despondent anti-gravity girl could hardly stand up straight.

"Hey, are you alright?" commented Jirou.

Ashido offered, "We were headed to the cafeteria. Do you want to come, too?"

"Yeah, I'm fine," answered Uraraka as she barely kept up with the polite concern. "I jogged on the way here. That's why I'm out of breath."

No one asked about her breath specifically, but now that they realized it, she seemed ill.

"Do you need to go to the infirmary?" Yaoyorozu asked as she reached out to touch her clammy shoulder.

Already sludging in the direction of her room, Uraraka shook her head. "Nah, I'm just really tired. Thanks." When she reached her bed, she plopped down and pushed her head into her pillow. A headache set in as her heart rate surged. She could still feel the sensation of Bakugou's tongue against her shoulder. Finally, tears built up in the corners of her eyes. "Deku will never be with me now," she lamented as she covered her reddened face.

Maybe the action itself would have been forgivable, but Uraraka knew that she yielded to the sinful excitement that beckoned her to yearn for more. When she had spotted herself in her reflection, she saw a girl without a trace of fear. Throughout her somnolence, she could not deny the insufferable intrigue that crescendoed in their moment together.

Rubbing that spot that he nearly marked, she loathed Bakugou for pouncing at her in a time of weakness. He probably did it to spite Midoriya. She'd be damned if she ever let him get that close again. They would have to have a long talk if he ever wanted to be friends with her again.

That's how she vowed to remember the occurrence upon awakening. Therefore, she had nothing to be ashamed of, or else, how could she resume their friendship?

Suddenly, she recalled planning to see Kotone tomorrow, but that would require seeing Bakugou. So then, she decided to text her student with trembling hands, "I'll have to push back our tutoring a little bit further. I hope that's okay. Don't worry, I'll tell Bakugou. We'll have tons of fun when we finally see each other."

Then, when she pressed send, she slowly descended into her slumber.

Chapter Text

Bakugou had some choice words for the anti-gravity girl that sent him into the air not once but twice. In class the next morning, he leered at the door and everyone who passed through it. The moment he heard it slide open, he snapped his head around to see who entered. And time after time when he failed to see her round hair, face, and cheeks, he growled.

Initially, he assumed that she feared an encounter with him because of her transgressions. When the clock neared the start of class and the bell rang, he grew sick of the game that she had forced him into playing. The tension that spanned from his spine to his fingers and coursed through his veins had all been from her relentless attack, hadn't it?

She would pay.

The shrill bell of the end of class snapped Bakugou from his thoughts, and he needed an outlet for his hostility.

Midoriya crossed his path, and Bakugou pounced to corner him outside meters away from the door. Immediately, the green haired hero bowed his head and apologized, "Sorry for interrupting the other day."

Interrupting? Come to think of it, Bakugou had no idea what transpired before Uraraka fled. Narrowing his eyes at the ceiling, all he could recall was a decent workout; Midoriya entering; Uraraka pushing him into the air; her trembling back as she ran. That was it. Hesitant to ask, the blond figured that particular word choice to be impertinent to the main issue. "Didn't I tell you to go after her?" he reminded him.

"I couldn't find her," answered Midoriya, for he searched around the pathway up until the dorms before he figured that she wanted some time to herself.

Had Bakugou known his classmate's reasoning, he would have exploded. Fortunately, he used the time to try to recall the fragments of memory that he'd forgotten - the embrace, the bite, the almost kiss. They had all conveniently slipped his mind. Perhaps, his immature thoughts could not properly handle the depth of the raw emotions he had felt in those moments. The behavior all contradicted his vows that his association with Uraraka had been purely legal and self-serving to his bloodline.

And when she left because of Midoriya, Bakugou felt more than simply anger - loss.

Lost in his thoughts, Bakugou wouldn't have heard anything Midoriya had said within the past few moments if he said anything. "Why didn't you fucking try harder to find her? Tell me where she is now. Do you have some kind of pathetic crush on her?" he interrogated and with each question, his hand tightened into a fist.

Where did that last question come from? Midoriya's face reddened as he shook his head. "I don't know where she is, and I don't know if I have a crush on her."

Who wouldn't? Surely, a sappy, sentimental kid like Midoriya developed feelings for someone like her.

Snarling, Bakugou sneered, "Drop the bullshit."

Midoriya had yet to put his feelings into words, but maybe his concern and interest in Uraraka had developed into some kind of infatuation at least. He gulped. That tightness in his chest stayed with him along with the picture of ecstasy and intrigue painted across her reddened face. As a hero - no, as her friend, he just wanted her happiness regardless of who she chose to be with. "I," began Midoriya.

Their confrontation had gained curious spectators from class 1-A. After all, Bakugou decided to interrogate him outside of the classroom.

Iida interrupted, "You know, she was fine before you began harassing her." He believed that. Over the past few weeks, he sensed stress in her tense features.

Exiting the classroom with Kirishima, Sero caught sight of Bakugou and failed to read the tension of the scene. "Hey, you okay, man? We were just kidding yesterday. I don't care if you hang out with Uraraka," he interjected in an attempt to mollify the hostility.

Too many nosy people swarmed the area for Bakugou, so he barked, "Fuck off! Everybody. You know what? This isn't some kind of grand spectacle for people to chime in their fucking opinions. I don't give a shit what you losers care about what I do. Forget this." He backed away while staring down Midoriya. "You two can be all lovey dovey for all I care, but at the end of the day, I'm going to take what's mine."

He huffed and puffed as he stomped all the way down the hall and out the building. Midoriya and Uraraka laughing like kids - that's what he saw in his thoughts as he went up to his dorm room instead of the gym like he had planned. They might as well have been laughing at him, for that pit he had felt all day exponentially grew when he observed Midoriya's wide eyes and reddened cheeks.

Easily, he could have confronted her, but something subdued his typical hubris. His frantic thoughts tossed him, and of all the times he had lost control, nothing beat that afternoon. So he confined himself. These feelings that had flown asunder were more than just rage, and he only dealt with anger.

Surely, a loser like Deku liked a girl like Uraraka - that little cheerleading cutesy act was right up his alley. And that angered Bakugou. The pride he had felt when he drew the stick that promised her to be his partner faded into doubt that any of his plans would happen. At the end of the day, he loathed the idea of a love affair between the two. Yet, he felt the trajectory of events and fate nearly missed him and ensured the future of Midoriya and Uraraka.

Midoriya and Uraraka. His thoughts stormed as a premature drowsiness took over. If they liked each other, then what could an outsider like Bakugou truly do to stop it?

He groaned and put a pillow over his face to stop his heavy breathing for a few moments. The tension he felt had spread from his gut to his chest and then to his throat. Pain replaced his anger until he slowly fell asleep.

Meanwhile, in the kitchen of the commons, Asui hoped to catch Midoriya by surprise with a vanilla sundae topped with chocolate syrup and a cherry. Whipped cream, too. She didn't know everything about Midoriya, but after witnessing his Bakugou harangue him, she knew he would stew in his conscience. Surely enough, he sat at the table and stared down at the glass filled past the brim with ice cream and decadent toppings.

Within seconds after Asui clinked down the glass, he jumped and squirmed and stammered all in one place - much to her amusement. In response, she placed a finger on her chin and asked, "Are you trying to stall until it melts? You must not like it."

"No!" he squeaked in protest. "I'm really happy and surprised." Why would a girl make him a sundae? He would have never have guessed how to properly react to such a gesture. While he knew a simple thanks would have sufficed, he hurried the ice cream down his throat with a spoon.

Asui blinked as she sat next to him. "Don't drink it too fast, or you'll get," she began to warn until she observed the faded hue of blue cascade down his face, "brain freeze."

Midoriya leaned forward and rubbed his palm against his forehead. "I-It tastes good," promised the hero as he tightly grinned. Maybe such a treat could cure the troublesome encounter he had with Bakugou. In fact, he had already forgotten about the tense encounter in the wake of Asui's kindness. As an intense headache faded, his grin melted into a smile. His shoulders yielded to the largesse gesture of his partner, and he inhaled.

"Ribbit. You are pretty energetic sometimes," commented Asui.

"Really?"

"You're all over the place at once," she noted as she gently stretched a finger towards his face. Residual turmoil hung between his eyebrows and the slight tremor of the corners of his mouth had never left. Even as he bit his lip, she could sense every ounce of tension that radiated through the rest of his rigid joints. "Even now, I can tell everything that you're thinking."

Covering his features with his hands, he replied, "All over the place? I didn't notice." Peeking through the valleys of his fingers, he reluctantly and slowly dropped his literal guard and placed a hand on his lap as he continued to spoon more ice cream into his mouth. How could something cold cause him to melt?

And, he had a cute personality, but Asui knew not to say something like that. With the mere presence of ice cream and a friendly face, he somehow sprouted a smile and could shift his mood as easily as her younger siblings. She watched him finish the dessert that he rightfully deserved as she leaned forward on her open palm. Her large eyes wandered to the corner of his mouth where a sizeable dollop of whipped cream sat. Was he unaware?

By habit, her tongue pushed against her mouth and emerged to clean the goop, but she stopped herself with a hand and pushed it back. Even someone as nice as Midoriya would probably get put off by such an odd gesture. Her face heated, and she wondered why she would be that bold. "You have something on your face," she muttered as she averted her eyes and hoped he didn't see.

Midoriya saw, but he interpreted the gesture a lot differently than she feared. "She must have wanted some," he thought as he frowned at the emptied glass. Wiping Smoothly as he could, he commented, "This was really nice of you, Tsu. I guess I'm still hungry after all of that."

"If you'd like, I could make you something else," she suggested as she got up to return to the kitchen area. Asui frowned at the absence of her usual equanimity.

Midoriya apologized, "Sorry, no, I meant, we should go somewhere. You're probably hungry, too, right?" Was that an intrusive thing to ask? Girls probably didn't like to talk about their hunger. He wasn't sure.

In accordance with her buoyant, beating heart, she smiled, "But, I like making food for you, Midoriya." Maybe for that day, she wouldn't press him for introspection. Whether or not he liked Uraraka hardly mattered. She simply wanted his goofy smile to stay on his face for as long as possible.

"Tsu," he whispered. His chin pressed to his palm, he leaned forward and knocked over the glass. Scurrying to catch it from falling onto the floor, he somehow found Asui's tongue binding his hand to the glassware. Midoriya apologized as his heart raced, "Sorry! I wasn't thinking."

Asui released him. "Ribbit," she muttered.

Bakugou made his way to the bathroom late one night. Surprisingly, he figured that he could sleep until the morning based on the heaviness of his eyelids and grogginess in his head. Maybe he had overdone it with his workouts that week. Yawning for the fifth time, he could hardly see through his blurred vision as he exited the boys' restroom. His drowsiness expelled the unpleasant thoughts of Uraraka from the day and his dreams until he saw her?

That cursed, revealing black tank top and those familiar navy blue shorts that she always wore to training had a different appeal for that time of night. His eyes shot open, and he had to use every muscle in his body to suppress the twitch of the corners of his mouth. Questions flooded into his mind. Raising a finger, he pointed and jeered, "Uraraka." However, he could think of no insult.

The curves of her face, thighs, and chest drew silence from his throat. The dramatic darkness of her squinted eyes would have been unflattering on most people, but on her, the contrast to her typically bright, brown and round eyes amused Bakugou. Where had that energy gone?

He stepped closer to her and tilted his head down so that he maintained an unbreakable stare.

"Bakugou," she whined. "I gotta go."

Bakugou slammed his hand against the doorway of the girls' restroom to block her way. No, he hadn't finished studying her yet. "Where the fuck have you been?" demanded he. He noticed that her face had regressed from its typical roundness and developed slight, deviant dips. If his audacity led him to survey the shape with his finger tips, then he knew he'd find an anomaly. He frowned as his eyes traced up to the tips of her paling, pink cheeks. Those had changed, too.

She jumped. "Bakugou," she repeated more shortly this time. "What are you doing?"

He dropped his train of thought and snapped, "Nothing."

"Come on," pleaded Uraraka as she squirmed and bounced in place. "Please, I can't take it anymore. I need you-"

Bakugou drew his hand back into his pocket and scowled, "Shut the hell up." He cursed his heart, for he enjoyed the desperation in her eyes a little too much. That jiggling dance she did definitely didn't help. Such desperation seemed all too familiar and evocative of a time they shared away in the dimensions of his dreams. His face grew hot with anger or something of the sort.

Without another word, she passed him. Instead of taking a step towards his room, he stayed still for more moments with her. As his observations gave way to his initial fury, he remembered just what had pushed him into a disturbed state of mind. He recalled watching her flee from behind in the gym the day before.

Fortunately, she returned and tried to pretend as if her tormentor had left.

"I'm not done with you! Why did you run away?" he growled.

Uraraka, without the energy to argue, reluctantly decided to engage in his interrogation. Her heavy head finally rose to meet eyes with his. She expected more of a hostile glare than a bitter, narrow-eyed stare. As she stood her ground, she could not recall the events leading up to her fleeing from the gym. "Run away? Didn't you tell me to leave? I've been sick," she answered both his questions as her chest heaved.

"Cut the bullshit. I didn't tell you shit."

Her shoulders slumped, and she finally admitted, "I don't remember."

Bakugou had few comebacks for that, for he had also forgotten. Earlier, Midoriya had claimed to interrupt something. "Deku showed up," he reminded her.

"I-I don't know what you're talking about," she lied as sweat jumped from her face, for of course, she remembered Midoriya. Taking strides away to her dorm room, she avoided Bakugou.

That reaction - the renewed blush on her face and glow in her eyes. Did that confirm her infatuation with that loser? He couldn't sleep or stand still with that as the conclusion to their discussion. Reaching out, he meant to stop her, but once his finger tips touched the cold, soft surface of her triceps, his eyes dilated and heat climbed up his hand to his body and engulfed his entire face.

Racing heart, sweaty palms, he snatched his hand back as if her skin were molten lava.

He remembered.

Without dignifying him with eye contact, raw rage grew in Uraraka's eyes. She suddenly remembered as well. Midoriya had seen everything, but it wasn't her fault. It was Bakugou's. "What you did was unforgivable and weird," she muttered loud enough for only him to hear. The spot on her collar bone where he had marked abruptly sparked a hot sensation that spanned her entire body.

She remembered, and she had enjoyed it.

Bakugou had no chide remark to spit back at her, for she was right. Searching the words of his vocabulary, his teeth tightened to hiss an unorthodox term that had only passed his lips a few times in his life. Of all the instances to say it, he would have said it in that moment because truly, and he wouldn't willingly allow himself to lose control like that again.

He watched as her head fell back, and her body fell towards the ground like a toppling tower. Without a second thought, he caught her by the shoulders. The light had left her face like a new moon. Her eyes had shut and became illegible. A frown mounted on her lips complemented the solemn serenity of her empty profile.

Grimacing, he scoffed away his tension. His roaring thoughts and heart had mostly calmed, and he focused his energy on finding a place to dump her unconscious body. Lacking the tact of the conventional hero, he began to drag her backward towards her dorm. Uraraka Ochako.

Bakugou kicked the door open with the bottom of his shoe and entered her austere room. While she had a few clothes on the floor, some might assume she kept her area neat. Her barren, blank walls and solid, tan bed sheets lent to a completely neutral feel. Save for a few objects designed for organization, she had the bare minimum.

Tossing Uraraka onto her bed, Bakugou would have immediately left if he didn't catch sight of a sheet of notebook paper on the wall with his name on it. He scowled and put his left knee on the bed next to Uraraka's sleeping body to lean forward and get a closer look. "Bakugou and Uraraka 100% Friendship Compatibility! Perfect Match," he read next to a drawing of chibi, anime versions of themselves happily standing next to each other. He noticed a full, brightly red colored meter at the bottom beneath a somewhat intricate time graph.

He scowled, "They must have done this behind my back."

A few days before the arcade trip.

Uraraka sat in Kotone's room playing Super Smash Brothers and miserably losing. She hardly put as much heart into it as Bakugou or Kotone for that matter. Rubbing the back of her head, she apologized, "Sorry, I guess I'm bad at video games." Nonetheless, she enjoyed the energy of the room, and she always delighted in seeing Kotone.

Bakugou had gone to the restroom for longer than usual, so Kotone turned to Uraraka. They obviously wouldn't have much fun playing just video games. "Can I show you something? I want to know what you think," she casually suggested after staring at the door for a few moments. Kotone stood up before hearing her response, for time was of the essence.

"Sure," responded Uraraka as she stood up as well.

Kotone pulled a sheet of paper from her drawer and laid it out on the desk. "I never told you what my quirk was," she began. "I can hear hearts, and that tells me a lot."

"That's really cool, Kotone," she cheered before she spotted the contents of the paper.

While the girl smiled at the compliment, she wanted to be quick. "Hearts tell me a lot about people. I can hear their fears, happiness, and their sickness. Sometimes, when I hear two hearts together, I can figure out their compatibility, so I drew you and Bakugou's chart."

"Friendship compatibility, right?" Uraraka corrected her.

Pausing, Kotone then nodded.

"Really?" Uraraka grinned. "Lemme see that." She saw the ups and downs of their rhythm like an EKG monitor. Smiling faces were drawn between certain points. Although the hero-to-be could not properly understand the correlations of her student's logic, a light and flighty sensation fluttered in her heart. "100%"

"You two are really happy when you're around each other," explained the girl with a soft smile and blush on her cheeks.

Furrowing her brow to read, she looked up to ask, "Bakugou's happy?"

Kotone's eyes widened at the sudden shift in Uraraka's heartbeat - a habit that she knew that she needed to suppress one day. People usually didn't like to hear the meaning of their own hearts, so any indication that something had changed could cause conflict. Regardless, she smiled again. "Yeah," she nodded, "And, so I mapped out your hearts when you guys are together."

"Wah!" squealed Uraraka. "This is amazing!" Pointing to the first happy face, she asked, "W-When did this happen?"

Thinking back, Kotone remembered, "That's when you helped me with my history. I think you answered my question before Bakugou."

"He was happy about that?" she asked, for, at the time, she figured her eagerness to jump in annoyed him. Eagerly pointing to the second smile, she asked again, "How 'bout this?"

"Uh," Kotone stammered to keep up with her zealous attitude, "That's when he handed the controller to you."

"Maybe I was nervous instead," Uraraka suggested. There were more times, too, but in that moment, she reveled in the fact that there were any happy moments at all. Not that she could admit that she was particularly happy around him. In fact, that was far from how she'd describe her sentiments. Maybe fascinated.

To say the least, Uraraka's slight denial disappointed Kotone. She thought that her mentor would readily acknowledge any bit of joy that she felt around Bakugou. One of them had to, or else nothing would come of such a wonderful tune.

Uraraka's eyes glowed as she continued to study their personalized heart map. Her cheeks full of joy, she continued to grin when she praised, "You have a really good memory, Kotone! C-Can I keep this?"

Kotone nodded and waved her hands like a music conductor. "It's nothing, really - like listening to music. Your hearts make catchy music," she giggled as she rose her head to reveal her blue eyes through her black bangs.

They both had more questions.

Upon closer inspection, Uraraka noticed small, simultaneous jolts on the graphs. "What are these?" she asked.

"That? Oh, um, that's just," Kotone began, but she wasn't sure what to answer without sounding too intrusive. After all, no one truly liked for her to expose their deepest thoughts and feelings. She often tried to merely scratch at the surface. Otherwise, she would lose friends and alienate those around her like she had already accomplished in her young life. Moreover, she respected Uraraka to the degree that she didn't want to dig too deep.

Fortunately, Bakugou slammed the door open. "What are you losers talking about?" he frowned.

"Our game strategy!" cheered Kotone as she stealthily slipped the paper into Uraraka's binder. "How about we team up against you - 2 vs 1?"

"That's fair. You're not gonna beat me without a handicap," responded Bakugou as he sat in a purple beanbag chair in the corner of the room. He stared at Uraraka despite the fact that she hadn't challenged him.

When their eyes met, she nodded, "You're on."

In her head, Kotone noted, "There it is." That was the jolt that Uraraka had noticed earlier. Whenever Bakugou and Uraraka exchanged glances, she could almost guarantee that she would hear that familiar downbeat. At the young age of 12, even she could deduce what that meant, for only few heart harmonies had such a rhythm accompany such a happy melody. Closing her eyes, she heard the chorus return, and she smiled.

In his project partner's bedroom, Bakugou seethed as he knelt on Uraraka's bed above her. Initially, he thought to grab the paper, but more effectively, he could grab her. His rigid fingers sprawled as he reached the center of her face. And when his palm met her nose and his finger tips grazed her forehead, he pulled back once again.

She was hot. Not in that way - well maybe in that way, but he hadn't thought of her like that yet. Her skin was hot in the way that warranted concern.

The girl must have been sick, and thus, she had become his responsibility.

All that time, she had been suffering in this room alone and sick. "How could you?" Bakugou cursed with a twisting tension in his chest and a contorted scowl on his face. He had felt that helplessness on the train before. Moreover, how could he be blind enough to overlook the withering constitution of the person he had planned to marry? Just how sick had she been?

His hand hovered over her arm as he thought to shake her from her sleep and admonish her and force her to the infirmary, yet upon witnessing her heaving chest and reddened skin, he reconsidered his tactics. Sweat collected on her forehead as she furrowed her brow and stirred. Dark circles under her eyes, she tightly shut them as she not-so-peacefully slept. This stupidly sick girl was in no condition to walk herself. Even the student hero that only thought about beating villains knew that.

Pulling her arm, Bakugou awkwardly and as carefully as he could, placed her over his shoulder. He had no idea how critical her condition had become, so he erred on the side of caution by slowly proceeding to the door. "Fucking shit. You better not tell anybody I'm doing this," he warned the unconscious girl in a low murmur. While Bakugou may have thought of her as a foolishly stubborn and robust, without knowing her exact ailment, he treated her limp body a bit more tenderly than what was conventional for him.

What a troublesome idiot.

Sometime later that night, he reached the clinic. According to Recovery Girl, she had a moderate case of malnutrition and dehydration. All in all, she would fully recover with enough rest, food, and water - essential stuff for daily life along with the nurse's quirk.

Bakugou fumed as he overlooked Uraraka sleeping peacefully with an IV feeding into her arm. The sight wrung his gut as he bit his lower lip. She probably spent her money on that loser Deku instead of food or something. Moreover, she had too much pride to come to him for help. He would have figured something out despite literally having just enough money to cover his meals until his next allowance.

Allowance.

Whipping out his cell phone, he dialed his mother's number as quickly as he could. "Oi, I need money," he tersely greeted as he shut the door to the clinic behind him. Leaning against a wall, he slid down to sit.

"Katsuki?" Mitsuki answered from the other end. She spoke considerably louder than was necessary. "It's 4 am. Are you okay?"

"Just give me some. It doesn't have to be a lot," he paused to still his gravelly voice. "I need it for the girl I'm going to marry."

She shortly questioned, "What?!"

"Shut up about it," Bakugou ordered.

"You're telling me that a girl is not only dating someone with your attitude, but she agreed to marry you? She must be pretty tough for that to happen," she said with a chuckle at the end of her tone. "Masaru!"

"Hurry up. Pl-" began Bakugou before he corrected himself. "Now." With that, he turned off his phone and buried his face into his hands. Uraraka was tough - too tough like overcooked chicken. And stubborn like an untamed steed. That was why he decided to not lose her to anything or anyone including the likes of Midoriya.

Chapter Text

One morning, Uraraka woke up with a heavy sensation on her forehead. She couldn't remember how she got there or anything from the night before. All she remembered was - she couldn't remember anyone. Someone must have brought here there, however.

The clinic? She knew that she had not voluntarily walked there.

"I came to see you, Uraraka," he greeted - her prince and possible savior, Midoriya. Surely he had brought here there. With a small smile, he took a seat next to her bed and rubbed the back of his green mop of a head.

Wiping the side of her face to check for any drool or misplaced hairs, she knew that even if she found something out of place, she had no more time to fix it. Clearing her throat, she replied, "Mornin' Deku."

He had heard that she somehow ended up in the clinic, but he had no idea why. One of his classmates said they saw here there after visiting for a stomach ache. "Are you okay?" he asked with the sincerest bit of concern in his voice. The fact that he could have missed enough information in his friend's life bothered him.

Her face dropped into a frown. So then, maybe Midoriya did not bring here there. "I dunno," she answered with a shrug. "I just remember going to the bathroom and ending up here."

Silence. They had more important matters to discuss.

As more memories settled in, she remembered what she needed to address with him. Pulling a strand of her hair back, she whispered, "What you saw the other day - it was a misunderstanding. I don't know what happened, but it probably looked bad."

Midoriya jumped once he recalled the incident. Of all the reactions to have, he decided to smile in an attempt to assuage her fears. "Yeah, I didn't think anything of it," he lied as he scratched his temple. He thought about the situation several times since. After all, over thinking situations happened to be his specialty.

Although she had her doubt, Uraraka decided to feel relieved until she couldn't deny the suspicion that he thought of it. After all, over thinking situations happened to be his specialty. What kind of friend would she be if she didn't have his trust? Frowning, a weight of guilt sank to her chest, and she smiled despite it all. Was there anything she could say when she hadn't had time or stamina to process the event?

Then, a scent of some kind of chicken dish caught her nose. She immediately looked to her left and gawked and nearly drooled at the wonderful display of chicken and brown, fried rice and tons of colorful vegetables all in a bright, blue bowl. It sat there. It teased her. She wanted it to herself. Hopefully, she could refrain from drooling in front of her crush.

Recalling the scene, Midoriya spoke without thinking. He explained, "Kacchan has a lot of sides to him, doesn't he?" After all the years they've known each other, he had never seen Bakugou look as weak as he did. The redness of his face, the dilation of his eyes, the sweat that coated every inch of his exposed skin - it was all new to him. The mood was completely illegible to his innocence. Given the circumstances, Midoriya felt like he walked in on something too advanced and mature for him to comprehend.

Snapping away from her lust of food, she straightened her back to glance at Midoriya's plaintive smile. "Ah, yeah," she answered. Bakugou penetrated her thoughts once again.

"Even though we're not friends anymore," he added, "I still feel like I know him." And, given that fact, he knew that he saw Bakugou's infatuation before he realized any feelings he may have had for Uraraka. He saw the agony on his face when he looked at that green stuffed rabbit, and he remembered the gleeful pride in his eyes when he found out she was his partner. By the time Midoriya figured that he himself may have developed a crush on Uravity, he felt it would be unjust to act on such sentiments.

Bakugou had her first.

Uraraka shifted on the bed as she could hardly avert her attention from the delectable meat dish that beckoned her from the table. Shaking her head, she explained, "Well, he might be good deep, deep down, but he's still mean to you." The anti-gravity girl held up her hands before waving a single finger towards her friend like Iida would do. "You don't have to be friends with people who are mean to you."

Nodding, Midoriya sighed with the notion that she could see the good in his childhood friend. Well, with that being said, maybe they could go to breakfast.

"He keeps people at a distance," she continued as she gripped the sheets of her bed and frowned. When did she get that IV in her arm? "Even people like him get lonely and hurt though, right?" What a troubling person - that Bakugou. How could people help someone like him?

Upon witnessing the genuine, gentle smile on Uraraka's face, Midoriya gulped. That kind of honesty didn't come easily to most, so he needed to bury his inhibitions and respect her with the truth about what he saw and how he felt. Telling the truth wouldn't be that bad. After all, knowing that she could enjoy Bakugou as readily as she did failed to inflict pain on him. He wanted the people he cared about to be happy. "Actually, Uraraka, I need to tell you something," he began.

Suddenly, the sheer, white curtains to their right drew and bunched up to reveal Bakugou Katsuki standing straight and tall and pissed as ever. Animosity tightened his darkened brow as he leered down at his two classmates. "What are you losers talking about?"

Chills shot up both of their spines before they turned to greet him with their terror-filled eyes. "Bakugou!"

"Ochako," Bakugou uttered for the first time ever, for he had been by her dorm the night before. "What the fuck are you doing awake?"

"Ochako?" Midoriya and Uraraka both repeated. Immediately following their exclamation, Midoriya covered his mouth and blushed. He didn't intend on saying her first name as well.

Poor Uraraka covered her face and tightened her knees to her chest. A headache shot into her head. Of all times, why did he have to start calling her by her first name in front of Midoriya?

Amidst Midoriya's empty apologies, Bakugou growled, "If you're going to be stupid enough to end up in the clinic, then maybe I should just marry someone else."

Marriage? Much time had passed since he mentioned that goal.

Right, the green haired hero understood - Bakugou wanted to mark his territory. If Midoriya got too close to the object of his rival's affection, then Bakugou would feel threatened. Deku grinned, "I think I'll go get some breakfast. I'll see you in class, right?" He grabbed his bag and stood without making eye contact with anyone.

"No, she's not fucking going to class!" barked Bakugou. "Get the fuck out of here."

"We're not getting married!" she protested to her crush's back. He only replied with a weak wave and a soft chuckle. "You know how he is, Deku." Uraraka frowned and pouted. Her heart ached as her stomach grumbled.

Bakugou scowled at the untouched food near her bed. Then he glared at her. He intended for her to wake up and eat and thank him!

If her arms had been free, she would have ran after her friend, but she let out another groan and leaned back onto the bed. "I didn't even get a chance to thank him," she lamented. After all, Midoriya went through the trouble of carrying her to the clinic. How could she opt to spend time with Bakugou over him? Her eyes stayed fixated on the door.

Running his fingers down his face, Bakugou muttered, "Shit." He connected the dots relatively quickly - she must have thought that idiot did all this for her. This was the perfect opportunity for her to come crawling to him with adulation and thanks. Unfortunately, he fell asleep on the bed next to hers. "He's not the one. I am."

Disregarding the gibberish, Uraraka glared back at her assailant. "What are you even doing here?" complained the girl as she crossed her arms. "You never cared about my name before, and I thought you dropped your stupid marriage idea."

Spicy feist in her sweet voice. That was annoying for that time and place.

Snatching the bowl from the table, Bakugou may have been able to anonymously save her, but in the face of her arrogance, he took a spoonful of food and shoved it into her mouth as he explained, "How stupid are you? I'm the one that cooked this stupid food for you. I'm the one that brought you here. Stop looking at that idiot! Look at me! Beg for forgiveness for being such a pain in the ass and skipping meals."

He stopped when she coughed.

"You?" asked Uraraka after she cleared her throat.

"I told you before, you're mine," he declared as he put a foot on the bed and continued force feeding food to her. "That hasn't changed. Stop whining over him like a pathetic dog. He doesn't matter." Stopping, he nearly dropped the spoon when he finally remembered aloud, "You like him, don't you?"

Quickly, she chewed her food as she shook her head. "No!" she protested. "What are you talking about? He's my friend." Uraraka lied. She had to lie. Bakugou couldn't know something like that. "We're just friends."

Bakugou understood that he had to beat Midoriya in this realm of their lives as well. He couldn't allow him to take everything from him. Shoving the bowl into her hands, he meandered back to the other bed with his hands in his pockets.

She shamelessly continued to eat and savored every bite as she had when he forced the food into her mouth. The silence failed to concern her. Although, she wondered, why hadn't he gotten angrier? She knew that she had a difficult time lying about her feelings for Midoriya. Even someone as self-absorbed as Bakugou could probably see through her. So then, why did he stop talking?

Oh, well. She wanted to focus on finishing the food, and if Bakugou had have seen the pure bliss that filled her cheeks and pulled a smile onto her lips, then maybe he would have felt a fraction of the angst that he did. However, he faced her back from the bed behind her and would never know how much she fancied his cooking that day.

"What does he have?" asked Bakugou after several minutes of silence had passed.

In fact, Uraraka had forgotten that he sat behind her. Without a second thought, she answered with her mouth full of food, "He's kind for one."

"I wasn't fucking asking you!"

"You just did," she argued and coughed again.

"Slow down when you fucking eat."

"You were just shoving this down my throat, and you're tellin' me to slow down?"

Did she like it? He wanted to ask, but as long as he lived, he never would ask if she enjoyed that blue bowl of oyakadon. "I'm going to class," he muttered, for he didn't care if she heard. "I'm going to see Kotone later. Recovery girl said you have to rest today, so I better not see you again."

"Did she really say that?"

"I'm not a fucking liar!"

The less prideful Uraraka wiped her mouth as she watched Bakugou collect his assets. Maybe if she thought hard enough, she could remember running into him last night, and so, she finally did. That place he put his mouth on her collarbone still radiated heat like some kind of infection.

Was it infected?

Putting that incident aside, she assumed he must have been there all night, and he must have made the food, too. Everything came pouring back into her memory. Even though she acknowledged Bakugou's depth, she wrote him off as a person incapable of affection or intimacy, but maybe, that's a side she denied wanting to see.

Before she could say anything, Bakugou spread his legs and stood firm and tall as he ranted, "What kind of person doesn't eat? Are you serious about becoming a hero or what? I thought you had perseverance and determination and power, but when you passed out yesterday, you did that because of your neglect. And, in the gym, you ran away with your tail between your legs like a coward and drooled in that nerd's arms the second you saw him like a shriveling fangirl. You've had a lot of sides come out, round face, in these last couple of days, but none of them have been the type of person I respect. Don't be a hero if this is the type of person you are."

Don't become a hero?

Uraraka had to say something, for, in that moment, she faced someone who respected her potential. "You're right," she said with a smile, "Bakugou. Thank you. I'll do better. I promise."

Bakugou couldn't look at her. His face was too red, and he knew it. He dragged his finger down the back of his neck. "Shut up and prove it," he finally replied.

Wiping her almost tears away, she smirked, "Just don't bite me again."

He froze and shivered. "That's never going to happen again, and stop bringing it up!" With that, he slammed the door closed.

Was that an apology?

Upon entering a house, Uraraka trudged down the running carpet and aimed to reach her bedroom wherever that might have been. Within the large, open living room, warm sunlight graced every surface and corner. The bright blond heads of her family.

A girl with her chocolate brown eyes ran up to her. Her circular orbs grew even bigger along with her toothy smile. "Mommy!" squealed the girl with joy. "You're home."

Home? This large, vivid and joyful place that spanned past the size of any apartment or house or dorm she ever location she had ever lived was her a room of her home.

Peeking from around the corner with a sizzling hot fire pan in his hands, Bakugou Katsuki grew his neutral frown into a grin within seconds of his crimson eyes meeting hers. "Ochako," he greeted before quickly serving the stir-fried contents onto a plate. He had grown all over except for his hair which was just as wild and blond as the day they met.

Time had passed - maybe ten years.

"Can you show us the surprise now?" requested the girl.

Bakugou turned off the stove in the kitchen and ran up to Uraraka, sweeping her down into a deep and passionate kiss. The sudden gesture caused her knees to tremble. "Dinner is done. I have something to show you before I go." He continued to kiss her as he caressed the circumference of her cheek. Unashamedly, he slid his tongue down against hers.

Go? Uraraka's heart sank for some reason. After all, they had only seen each other for a few moments, and already, he bid his departure?

"Ew! Daddy, stop kissing Mommy!" she complained and grabbed pillows to lunge at them from the couch. "Cut it out!"

Finally pulling away, he led her to the bedroom by the hand. In the way that he walked, he stomped with a jovial energy that she'd never seen before. His grin lacked any trace of animosity, and the vibe of the entire house had a contagious comfort ascribed to every item and corner and color. Despite her unfamiliarity with either of Bakugou or the girl, she wanted to stay.

Pushing her shoulders back, he smirked as she plopped down onto the bed. "Wait there. Hanabi, you stand over there while I go back and get what I wanted to show you," he instructed.

The anger had left the young girl's face as she smirked and nodded up at her father. "It better be good, Daddy!"

He dipped into the closet for a few minutes before emerging with a slightly altered version of his hero costume. In fact, upon first glance, Uraraka couldn't understand what he wanted to show her. "Um," she stammered. Then, she spotted it - the bright, red cape that complimented his red, green, and black uniform. Sweat trailed down her temple as he flexed his biceps not to the mirror at his right but to Uraraka. He must have valued her opinion.

"Wow!" cheered Hanabi as her eyes lit up. Jumping into his arms, she giggled, "You look really cool."

"You bet your angel face I do," grinned Bakugou as he caught her. "What do you think, Ochako?"

Who surprises their wife with an article of clothing they got for themselves? "You still look dangerous, but how much did it cost? And, how important is the cape?" Wife - they must have been married if they had a child. His embrace felt too natural, and their daughter looked exactly like a blend of both of them. She had no reason to deny the evidence. Although none of that made sense, for seconds ago, Uraraka was just a teenager, she quickly melted into the scene.

Temporarily, the pride and joy dropped from Bakugou's face as he scowled and glared back at Uraraka. "Oi," he growled in a low tone. The caustic shift of his stare failed to startle her, for a glimmer of warmth remained against the reds of his eyes. "What's wrong with the cape? You can't put a price on this level of badass." As he held his daughter, he gripped the air with his free hand.

"I don't know," Uraraka sighed. "They're kind of tacky these days."

Then, rather than anger or pride, his face finally dropped into a dejected grimace. "It's for our team attacks, though," he explained.

"The rocket of love?" asked Uraraka as she folded her hands together and smiled.

"Kaboom!" exclaimed Hanabi as she stretched her arms out. Her blushing red cheeks filled with her smile.

Uraraka giggled, "Then, it's perfect." Everything was perfect - her house, her daughter, Bakugou - yet, it all felt fleeting. By then, she had stopped questioning every aspect and lost herself to her whimsical life. Hot tears cascaded down her face.

Placing Hanabi on the floor, Bakugou urged, "Hey, angel face, go eat some dinner." Somehow, the headstrong child obliged with a concerned furrow on her brow. Bakugou lifted the black mask from his eyes, and he squinted to confirm the tears and started over to her as he tightened his teeth. "Did something happen?"

Shaking her head, her voice cracked as she replied, "No, I'm just really happy. We've been really busy lately, and I miss all the moments like this."

Bakugou bit his lip. "Don't scare me like that, and stop crying," he ordered as he undressed. "You know I can be late for you."

He pinned her against the bed by the wrists, and she failed even to flinch. As his face neared hers, her heart quickened in anticipation, for she awaited this pattern and prematurely weakened over an indescribable pleasure that sat in her horizon.

Perfect. "Kacchan," she whispered. The word naturally fell from her lips. So then, they could stay together for a little longer. She wanted to cry more. How did she become that fortunate?

By the time Uraraka woke up, she couldn't remember what she dreamed of, but tears fell down her face just as freshly as they did in her dream and she felt like part of her life had dropped from the face of the earth. Plus, an extraordinarily long tongue had wrapped around her waist and slowly pulled her down to the bed. "Tsu?" she asked in the presence of her closest female friend. Her heart heavy yet hollow, Uraraka's lower lip trembled before she gulped.

"Ribbit," replied Asui.

Adjusting herself on the bed, Uraraka got to her knees and took a quick glance outside the window, "When did you get here? What happened?"

With an unchanging expression, Asui responded, "I should ask you the same thing. Are you okay?"

Nodding, Uraraka wiped her cheeks and widened her eyes once she realized the tears on their surface. "Yeah," she muttered. For the life of her, she could not recall a single moment of her dream.

Asui had something to say regarding Midoriya until she heard the name that Uraraka had muttered and cried for in her sleep - Kacchan in the softest, sweetest tone she'd ever heard. That was Bakugou, wasn't it? From that alone, she began to suspect that her relationship with the brute had changed. To avoid rocking the boat, she refrained from mentioning anything about her evening with Midoriya. "I'm glad," she said as she sat next to her. "It's been a while since we've talked. Do you want to?"

"Sure!" Uraraka chirped, but she knew that she couldn't talk much about Bakugou. After all, she wouldn't want her to get the wrong idea. They were just friends.

So then, instead of talking about boys or guys or whatever they were, they talked about the stress of school and classes and whatever happened to be on their minds. Their common bond had always been their commitment to their families above all else. While Asui had to neglect her domestic responsibilities to become a hero, Uraraka had to affect her family's financial troubles. Their sympathetic friendship had always aided them through that faction of their lives.

Family - that term felt strangely relevant to her recent memories and returned the pit to Uraraka's chest before she sighed.

Asui peered at the sudden shift in mood. "Are you okay, Uraraka?" she asked as she pointed to her tightened lips.

"Y-Yeah! I don't know. I feel like my focus hasn't been on school lately. I really need to buckle down and study and train and work really hard!" Uraraka declared as she tightened her fists. Their discussion had rejuvenated her drive. "Nothing is going to get in the way of becoming a hero."

For her friend, Asui, that proclamation was yet another reason to refrain from mentioning her growing feelings for Midoriya.

Then, the door creaked open.

Chapter Text

Why can't you see?

Oh, how blind can you be?
Someday you'll see
That you were meant for me

Within meters of the gates at SA - Kotone's school, a boy with brown hair threw rocks towards the back of her head as she tried to pace quickly enough to the exit. A group of other kids from her class followed in tow. While she knew that the torment would not end there, she saw the mark as a checkpoint for her eventual escape. After all, days like these seemed to repeat again and again for her entire time at elementary school. Tears at the brink of spilling, she held her head low as her black bangs covered her eyes and kept a tight, unyielding smile on her face.

She checked her phone a few times to see if Uraraka had responded to her texts. They had spoken relatively consistently on days they couldn't see each other, and seeing her spirited messages and emojis always inspired her day. What were heroes for if they couldn't lift the moods of the people around them?

Before she set foot off campus, the rhythmic rocks stopped buffetting her skull, and a familiar beat entered the vicinity. Badump. Badump. Ba - "Bakugou!" she exclaimed before she turned around to see her blond-haired mentor holding the boy up by the wrist. Quickly, she wiped her face and hoped he hadn't seen any trace of shameful anguish in her eyes.

"Is he messing with you?" he asked as he shook the kid in midair. All the other children fled and screamed.

Her relief died quickly once she spotted the overflowing tears on her classmate's face. She frowned, "Bakugou, it's fine."

Tossing the irrelevant child to the side, he scowled, "Fuck off, kid, you're in my way." With that, the future hero caught up to his student as he pressed down on her head. His rigid knuckles gripped her from the crown, "I saw that shit you sketched out for Uraraka. Don't go putting stupid thoughts into her head."

After school, he came straight to Kotone's school without warning.

Holding up her hands, she protested, "It's not what you think! It's just a compatibility chart." Luckily, Bakugou couldn't read her heart, and hopefully, he couldn't even read her expression. She trailed him a few meters behind.

"I thought it said friendship compatibility."

"I-I can hardly tell the difference. You know, I hear hearts all the time," explained Kotone as she flailed her arms in the air. Sweat jumped from her face, and she tried to catch up to Bakugou. Sure, she had hoped for their hearts to mean more than friendship, but she had not witnessed true love before. Pink tinted her cheeks as she averted her eyes to the street that they walked near.

Bakugou narrowed his eyes as he bent over to study her flustered face. "What aren't you saying?"

In a higher voice, she squeaked, "I said everything! You two are good together."

He could accept that assessment. While he may not have entirely agreed with the phrasing, he smirked at the confirmation for his hunch of making Uraraka his. That bush haired dork probably wouldn't have scored higher than him with Uraraka.

Later, Kotone and Bakugou sat in her room and went over course material that she had already learned like fractions, Kanji, and different forms of energy. Unsurprisingly, they blew through the majority of her homework in record time granted the major distraction of Bakugou's beating heart. Something troubled him, and as she caught each glance he shot at the bed where Uraraka typically sat with crossed legs and a cute smile, she understood the correlation.

"You keep looking over to where she sits," she observed out loud. "Why's that?"

A revitalized grimace popped onto his face as he sat up in his chair near the lamp-lit desk. He shouted, "Shut up!" Then, he panted to regain the energy he expelled in the outburst.

His stress made sense. Uraraka last sent her a concerning message filled with typos and gibberish. "Is she okay? I texted her, but she didn't respond. And her last message didn't make sense." Pulling out her phone, she glanced back to spot his quirked eyebrow and a neutral frown on his expression as he curiously peered over her shoulder.

"She's sick," he said as he sank back into his seat and pulled the corners of his mouth into a pensive frown. Unconsciously, he glanced over at the empty, blue sheeted bed for the hundredth time that evening. His foot twitched at the ankle as he gradually slumped into a typical scowl. Her sickness had been from her foolishness.

Kotone nodded, for she already figured that much. "Bakugou will take good care of her, right?" she giggled.

"Oi, concentrate."

No denial. No yelling. Just a low, stern weight of rush urged from his direction. Then, of course, his heart pounded as he must have thought of Her. "Let's skip the video games today," she suggested. That way Prince Charming could get to his princess as soon as possible. At least, that's how Kotone saw the situation.

Lost in his thoughts, Bakugou made a delayed response. "Hurry up," he grunted as he bore his teeth.

Suddenly, Kotone regretted her light hearted teasing. If only she could spell it out for him, then maybe he could come around to accepting his feelings. He obviously worried about Uraraka, and based on the amount of lofty joy she inspired in him, Kotone could assume that he probably harbored deeper attachment.

In fact, she was nearly sure of it. However, she rubbed the back of her head and reflected on the torment she experienced earlier that day. Humans loathed exposure. They always want to hide.

So then, Bakugou's eyes wandered toward the bed for the hundredth and first time that day, but this time, he could easily state that a glimmer from a glass lens caught his eye. Upon closer observation, he noticed within a big brown teddy bear's bowtie, a camera stared back at them. "A camera?" noted Bakugou as he leaned over to grab the stuffed toy by the neck.

"Oh, my parents are kinda crazy. They watch me all the time. Did I ever tell you that they married each other for their quirk?" she ranted in a long, drawn-out breath.

Bakugou threw the bear to the corner of the room and contorted his face into a disgusted, tight grimace. He sighed, "Not my problem." In fact, he only picked up on the words crazy, married, and quirk.

"I'm one of their," she paused before she continued, "failed creations. Mom can't have any more babies, so my dad's been getting creative as he said."

Unfortunately, Bakugou had his attention elsewhere still. While he may have paid more attention in less strenuous circumstances, he preoccupied his idle thoughts with checking his phone.

Once Recovery Girl dismissed Uraraka, she finally got back to her room late that evening and stared at the mound of folders and worksheets that Midoriya had dropped off in front of her door. Sticky notes topped each section with polite and concise instructions for her slightly extended due dates. However, she knew about her exam the day after tomorrow. She lost track of what day of the week it was.

A heavy burden of what lied ahead pulled her back to the bed where she groaned and wept, for how could she finish 2 days worth of work and study for a moderately difficult exam. She hardly ever missed school for most of her life, and situations like these would serve as a harsh reminder as to why. Bakugou had a point -she did this to herself. Maybe she could collect herself and build a less pessimistic outlook and not think about that blond guy.

Suddenly, someone pounded on her door. She jumped and fell to the floor next to her bed. Trembling as she crawled on her knees, she tried to catch her breath as she reached for the cold doorknob. "You scared me, Bakugou," whined Uraraka with a shaky frown.

He forced the door open further before he stomped inside her barren room. "Straighten up," he commanded. "We're going to do shit together tonight since you're still being a fucking stick in the mud with my plans." Bakugou could put aside his pride and sacrifice his time to help her because he didn't want her to fail. And, he didn't want to slack off and allow someone like Deku to steal this opportunity. "I'm not going to lose to him, and I know he hasn't done anything romantic for you." The latter bit of his declaration came in the form of a collected yet hostile growl.

Romantic? Did that mean this sudden and invasive visit was his form of romance? She blew off his rant as she went back to her bed. "Go away," sighed Uraraka as she combed her hair back with her fingers. Everything Deku did was romantic - from delivering this burden of work to stopping by to see her before class. Seeing his emerald green eyes was enough to send her heart racing.

She covered her reddened, smiling face. Earlier, in her pleasant dream that she longed to return to, that intimate embrace must have come from none other than Midoriya. Who else could he have been? In her waking life, she immediately grieved such a fate.

Bakugou's eye twitched as he caught her sudden shift in composure. Was that because of his presence? About time! Invigorated by the accolades of Uraraka's fluster, he slammed down his binder to the table. "Since you're sick, I'll just be at your dorm," he announced before slapping his pencils against the surface.

Reality sank in, and she remembered her uninvited guest. She excused herself, "I have to study for the test in two days, so I can't hang out with you, Bakugou."

"The exam is tomorrow, dumbass," he reminded her as he snatched her pile of work and flipped through the material.

"What?!"

Leaning over the table with his elbows on either side of the folders, he reluctantly reiterated, "Like I said before, I'm not going to marry someone who fails. I'm going to force you to do better. If you fail, you'll embarrass me."

Immediately, she denied his assumption. "I'm not marrying you," said Uraraka with no inflection in her voice. Toppling over, she buried her face into her pillow.

Bakugou assumed that her denial was a mere guise to mask her true feelings. Fortunately, he had a card that would break down whatever act she tried to use in front of him. He smirked, "Since you're shit at taking care of yourself, you're going to eat the food I give you." With that, he pulled a neatly packed bento of onigiri and vegetables. Eagerly, he glanced over his shoulder and expected her glimmering chocolate eyes to shine back at him.

However, her dark eyes lacked any luster as her mouth dropped into a perturbed grimace. "T-Thank you," she replied with a startled stutter. For a split second, she had guessed that Bakugou may have developed some kind of attachment to seeing her and being with her and taking care of her. But, no. That wouldn't make any sense. Even though, she could almost picture warmth in his eyes and a soft, comforting tone in his gravelly, rough voice.

In fact, she could say that she remembered his capacity to care for her and express his love. Her frown softened as she desperately scanned the room for anything but him.

"Get your ass over here! I don't got all night," he demanded.

A study proposal? Maybe this study session could be a good thing. By the roaring flames in Bakugou's piercing glare, she could tell they had a long night ahead of them. And as she stepped across her floor, she neared him until she sat at the furthest possible side that faced away from her window. While the fire she spotted could not have been real, this side of her room was decidedly warmer than her cozy bed.

Bakugou ground his teeth and chided, "You're not going to learn shit by staring at the cover."

Gradually raising her head to finally study his irritation, her eyebrows twitched at the same rhythm as the corners of her miserably false smile. There was no way, right? Her heart sunk at the same speed as her stomach. That feeling of loss had left, and a sensation doom weighed on the top of her head. And yet. Bakugou had been the man of her dreams, and she knew it.

Man of her dreams? She shook her head. Not like that - only in the literal sense.

Like that, she could silence all somatic reactions and snapped her attention to the book in front of her. All the suppression she learned from liking Deku had come in handy for times like these where she could easily anguish over having romantic dreams of Bakugou. Unlike her supposed husband, this Bakugou made weird, contorted grimaces all the time. Surely, glancing at his grumpy expression would plunge her back into reality.

"History first," he instructed as he leaned over the table to flip through the folder to the oldest history assignment. "Then science. Then math."

His wild, light hair tickled her clammy forehead, and when she took a quick glimpse of his typically fearsome eyes, she spotted a glimmer of gentle warmth in his ruby stare. She gulped and fell back to breathe her own air.

Too close! That was true fear, right? Her pounding heart calmed once she looked up at his signature tight scowl. Those blond eyebrows furrowed as he showed more and more of his teeth as seconds passed.

Bakugou scoffed, "What's your problem? Don't back out now."

"Are you fucking stupid? Most of these are wrong! It's meiosis - not mitosis."

Maybe she shouldn't have wished for his volatile core to return. She leaned against the edge of the table to prevent herself from completely collapsing across the surface. Sighing, she realized only an hour had passed by the time on her phone.

Bakugou may have ranted for longer if he didn't catch sight of her accentuated bosom that bulged against the short table. Another thin, ebony tank top. Another clear view of the chasm of cleavage that he detested. Yet, if he detested it so, then why did the vision snatch his attention from his passionate rant and lecture? Bearing his teeth, he chided, "Have you been wearing that shit for the last couple days? Wear something else."

Widening her eyes, Uraraka jumped once she examined the clothes she had dressed in days ago. Hunching her shoulders and lowering her head to take a peek, she frowned, "Oh, yeah, I guess I should wear something else."

Just like in the arcade, Bakugou wanted to give her his shirt. The sight of her in his badass attire amused him. His signature on her. A collar of sorts. Placing the worksheet back on the table, he grabbed the inner sides of his gray uniformed blazer. A haughty grin grew on his profile. Then, he heard a dresser slide open. His smirk dropped into a neutral glower.

"I guess you gotta go if I change," she explained from meters behind her study buddy. There was no guessing to it, though. Uraraka would definitely not change clothes in front of him. "Oh, here's a t-shirt. I could just put it over what I have. I'm sorry. I don't stink, right?" Raising her eyebrows, she flashed a shaky smile, for she didn't want to offend her tutor with an obstinate odor.

Slamming his elbow on the table, he dug his chin into his open palm and grumbled, "No, just pick something. I'm not moving." He didn't know how to offer his clothes. Besides, he wore the school uniform instead of a less cumbersome t-shirt. However, he considered a quick mental image of Uraraka in his larger, loose-fitting uniform shirt. That distracting cleavage would probably be more apparent than it was in her tank top.

Why did he have to contemplate and analyze the logistics of her fashion choice?

Uraraka cheered, "Tada! I changed. I'm pretty quick, right? You were just staring at the wall the whole time." She twirled in her solid, pastel pink baby tee. Glancing down, she sighed at her sliver of exposed midriff. Time had passed since she last wore this shirt. The happy black bunny on the front looked too childish to ever wear in front of other people. "I guess it's gotten a little tight since I last wore it. You'd think I would get skinnier after fastin' for so long."

Every muscle in Bakugou's body tightened as he made a weak attempt to prevent himself from looking. "Hah?" he grunted. This choice was the worst possible outcome! Not only did he miss the opportunity to mark her with his apparel, but her new attire weakened him. He convulsed before snapping his pencil in half. His seething breath steamed in and out his nose. Through his teeth, he said, "You - Fuck. Whatever." No sound reason for her to change clothes crossed his mind, but he just knew this was an attack.

Suddenly, he became hungry despite the food in his gut. Brushing his tongue against the edge of his fangs, he contemplated how to quickly suppress the surge in tension. He rubbed his inner thigh to alleviate the familiar swelling in his groin and thought about her smooth, plump thighs. That round and full rack of hers aroused such an insatiable desire.

And, it was so simple, too. A t-shirt that did not properly fit her could not possibly inspire such scorching sensations in him.

"A-Are you okay, Bakugou?" she asked under his lethal glare. Cautiously and slowly approaching her seat once again, she took her graded work and skimmed over the considerable amount of red Xs. Between Iida and Midoriya, she knew that her knowledge and academic skills were average at best. If she got 50% of those science questions correct, she'd be surprised. "Is there anything good about me?"

He didn't answer either question. However, he finally relinquished to the overall tension in the room and allowed some of his muscles to relax.

"I want to be a good hero," Uraraka explained, "but I don't try as hard as Deku, and I don't have the dutiful spirit of Iida. I have nothing special about me, so I'm not sure how I can become a pro." She guarded the corner of her eyes with a few fingers and bit her quivering lip.

Oh, man, the many of faces of Uraraka sent Bakugou for a ride. "Dumbass," he muttered loud enough for her to hear, "why would I want to marry a shit person?" Bakugou admired several aspects of his supposed fiancee - her spirit, her tenacity, her expressive personas, and even her body. Of course, Bakugou himself would not admit to that last perk for a while. Not even to himself which probably lent to the pressure building inside of him. After all, there were too many positive qualities to muse over for him to focus on something as aesthetic as physical appearance.

Snapping out of her woe, she failed to catch Bakugou's passing roundabout compliment. A glow (that Bakugou mistook for a reaction to him) brightened her rosy cheeks and ivory grin. "Ah, Bakugou, I got this one right!"

"What? Are you saying I can't grade a bullshit assignment?" he snapped. Then, he realized her smile spawned from her stupid pride. He suppressed a smirk before snatching the paper from her hands. "Yeah, conception involves reproduction."

"No, no," protested Uraraka as she flipped through to answer section of their textbook. "It's intercourse." Without breaking a sweat, she proudly enunciated every last syllable of that word. "Reproduction is the whole thing. Conception is how the sperm and egg meet and make the embryo, and that needs intercourse."

Bakugou retracted back to his seat and kept a tight grimace on his face as he said, "Whatever." He had never heard the term intercourse, for he had never talked about sex. However, by the explanation of the book, he could connect the dots. It probably had to do with that thing or those things he did to Uraraka. Burying his face into his crossed arms, he remembered why he tried to suppress such cursed images.

The sweltering air thickened, and Uraraka, too, suddenly realized the raunchy topic of their conversation. She placed the book down and rubbed the back of her neck as she averted her eyes to the paper before her. She flipped it. "I didn't mean to talk about it so casually," she nervously giggled.

"I don't care if that's how you pop out brats. I just care about getting from point A," he began before he paused and peered into her eyes, "to point B." Tightening his fist, he wondered why he had such difficulty talking about such a subject. His breathing had become more labored than before, but that alone wasn't entirely out of character. The shame that attempted to forget his dream also wanted to hide his fantasy from the dream's star - Uraraka.

And, there hadn't been just that one. He had multiple that intensified since the first one. Scarcely, they spawned in his mind during the day. Only briefly.

Grabbing a pillow, Uraraka threw it at Bakugou. "Jeez," she cried. "Cut it out! You're gross." She should have used that pillow to cover her pink face. However, she could only use her hands.

Cute. He stared back at her - stoic and pensive. Would that be a word to describe her?

Bakugou grew impatient as he rattled his pen and ground his teeth. They should get back to work because there was no way in hell they could go back and forth over something like you know what.

And, she did get back to work for a short period of minutes. Then, dropping her pen, she stopped grinding her utensil against her notebook paper. In a soft, quiet voice, she finally asked, "Why do you want to marry me?"

"Quirk," Bakugou answered without delay. He would not want her other incentives to come to mind.

Uraraka confirmed her suspicion by asking. Her heart quickened as she looked to the window in the back of her room. However, a heavy feeling started in her gut as she gulped. Maybe if he had less selfish goals, then his desire would flatter her. "So you want to make babies with me, right?" she forcefully smiled throughout the question. If he could discuss things like that casually, then so could she. As she saw the situation, in a million years, they would never attain such a future.

For whatever reason, Bakugou mistook her smile for eagerness. Shifting his weight to his elbows, he stirred. He disliked that she lacked disconcert, but he also enjoyed her acceptance. He smirked, "What do you think?"

The anti-gravity girl failed to catch his taunt, so she truthfully disclosed what she thought, "I don't think I want to get married."

"What?" he exclaimed as he leaned further forward to stare at her. That answer especially piqued his interest. Most girls were into mushy, maudlin shit, and she was definitely conventionally feminine, but the juxtaposition of her aversion to weddings and marriage both annoyed and charmed him. He looked forward to the challenge yet hated her obstinacy. Then, sporting a full-on smarmy grin, he said, "It's not exactly your fucking choice."

Brushing her hair back, she somehow raised her lips into a smile once more. "Love gets in the way of things," she whispered. As she stared out the window, she remembered her vow to hide her feelings for Midoriya.

Bakugou tilted his head. Now, that especially confused him. She had been exceptionally mushy over Deku for a while. "Love?" he scowled and sat up straight. "Who said anything about love? I knew you were fuckin' playing games with me. You have no reason not to marry me."

If what she said were thoroughly true, then he'd be right. Uraraka bit her lip and confessed, "I would want to marry a kind hero if I did."

Kind hero? That might as well have been her epithet for Deku. All the subtle hints of interest coming from her must have been delusions on Bakugou's part. His chest imploded as his shoulders dropped. Interest or not, he'd get what he wanted. "Too fucking bad, Uraraka."

Closing her eyes, Uraraka slowly rocked back and forth and mused over her dream. With a giggle at the tip of her sentence, she said, "Maybe if I become a top hero, and make lots of money, I'll have a family." Midoriya would either dedicate his life to heroism or find a girlfriend by that point. Everyone liked him. The delight in her smile faded as she contemplated the reality of their future.

"With me," clarified Bakugou as he pointed to himself with a thumb.

Uraraka tried to avert her eyes to the papers on the table. There was no way that he could know of her dream of him. "Stop! How could you be so direct when we just talked about sex and we're in my room alone together," she cried as she flailed her arms.

Silence and tension and heat filled the small room.

"Shut up," spat Bakugou - his body temperature had surged. "You know what isn't going to happen anytime soon. I need to get my shit straight first, too."

Too? They had not made plans together! Uraraka whined, "Bakugou, nothing is gonna-" She paused, and by the small twitch of her mouth, she smirked, for the gravity-defiant girl noticed his sudden change in pigment and rigidly robotic posture. He could not even bring himself to look away from the blank space on that observation, she could get back at him. "You can't even say it, can you?"

Bakugou certainly did not appreciate the impish aura that raged from her side of the table. He wanted to rival it and beat her into a submissive state with his stare alone, and yet, he had to hesitate in order to finally meet with her deep, chocolate eyes.

To put her in her place, he slammed his hand to the middle of the table and leaned forward to leave less than a foot of air between them. He watched her courage melt into a furrowed brow and trembling smile. From that distance, he could spot each bead of sweat that built on her round face. Her subtle and sweet must had been far from offensive. He craved her scent as he inhaled the thick atmosphere that bound their tension. "Sex," he announced. "Sex, sex, sex." The stoicism of his blank face evolved into a passionate rage.

How dare she assume he was too weak to talk about the inevitable! And, when his heart pounded and his body simmered, he attributed those factors to the raw anger that built inside him.

Uraraka couldn't handle herself anymore. After he said it the first time, she had fallen back to the floor and covered her face. "Ahh," she squealed. "I get it you don't have to say it anymore." That last part needed to be clear, for he continued to repeat it. When he finally stopped, she peeked up at where he had been to see that he returned to his seat.

Then, she understood just how immature Bakugou could be.

She silently stuck out her tongue.

"Get back to work," he ordered as he shielded his eyes and leaned over the papers.

"You really think this is the quadratic formula? There's not even an imaginary number in this entire damn mess," he complained until he looked up to see Uraraka resting her head on the coffee table. If he yelled any louder, then he wouldn't be able to catch such a unique side of Uraraka. His shoulders dropped at his sides.

Light snores billowed wisps of her auburn hair. Beneath the incandescent lights, her skin remained clear and bright. Beauty, was it? What an enticing contrast.

Such a sight silenced Bakugou and brought his breathing and movement to a complete halt for a brief period. Such a sight deviated from her typically endearing and energetic demeanor. Such a sight bore a hallowed meaning that even he could not comprehend in that moment. Such a sight could absolutely not cease until it ran its course.

A knock came to the door.

"Shit," swore Bakugou before he jumped to answer the door. Slipping out of the door, he pushed past his childhood friend, Midoriya, and his sidekick four-eyes kid. "What do you shitstains want?" His alert and piercing glare pushed the green-haired hero back a few paces.

"K-Kacchan!" exclaimed Midoriya. "I was coming to check on Uraraka, but if you're here, then I guess she's okay." And he meant that in more ways than one. This encounter had been the second time in one day that he interrupted them.

"Keep your fucking squeaking down. Just say what you wanted to say to her. She's sleeping," he explained.

Although Midoriya stopped to take note of that verbal symptom of sympathy, Iida hated the entire set up. He lectured, "There's a curfew, you know. What are you doing around her when she's sleeping?"

A smarmy, sinister grin swiped across his face, and he haughtily answered with his nose turned upwards, "None of your damn business." They had no right to what went on in that room between them, but he saw their jaws drop. He relished their racing thoughts.

"You-You must have coerced her to allow you into the room. I find it highly unlikely that she invited you. Let me talk to her," Iida demanded as he began to push past the volatile hero.

Bakugou snarled and spread his arms to block him. "Nobody is entering this damn dorm!"

The door cracked open and pressed against his back as the sleeping princess emerged. Wiping her puffy eyes, she yawned, "Iida? Deku!"

A chill crawled up Bakugou's spine, and his initial reaction was to hide her. The vision of that shirt and how it hugged around every round part of her torso would probably be the kind of thing that incited raw desire in men. And, he certainly did not expect those two dorks to control their thoughts. If his self-proclaimed non-attraction to her led to hot, dirty wet dreams, then he wanted to ensure that they didn't get the same ideas. "Go back inside," he muttered.

She poked her head out from around the blond's side. Their proximity sliced her train of thought once she grazed against his warm body. "Um," Uraraka stammered to collect her thoughts, for she could not possibly comprehend her lack of composure. Her heart raced until she grew nauseous. The shift must have been from medicine or something. "Oh, yeah, thank you for coming to see me," she finally greeted as she pushed past her guard to approach her friends.

Bakugou lifted an eyebrow to see her gentle smile. A glow appeared in her eyes that gave the impression that the dork healed her. His wild chest wrung in sharp tension. That bubbly, cheerful smile only came out around Deku. Again, his face dropped all animosity and settled into a still and quiet frown. Such a sight was not meant for him, and possibly, it never would be.

"But I was here for her," Bakugou thought to himself before dressing her in his gray blazer - the collar as he would put it. If she continued to be reckless and wear thin clothes everywhere, then she would make her sickness worse. "I'm leaving. Figure the rest out yourself, Ochako," he announced before retreating to the room with his hands tucked into her pockets. He dedicated his entire night to her, and she only shined her most radiant smile at Deku.

While Uraraka would have protested and asked him to stay longer, she didn't want Midoriya to get the wrong idea. Knowing Bakugou, he probably would have held the ordeal above Midoriya's head. In fact, he probably already had spouted some lie to them. She sighed. This situation would be a lot easier if everyone were friends.

If Midoriya or Iida said something in the brief minutes that she stared at Bakugou's back, she would not have heard it. He hastily stuffed his assets into his bag, and her hand twitched to reach out to him and ask him to stay. Her furrowed brow ached as she studied his every movement and how he snatched various items of his to violently stuff them into his bag.

Her heart sank, and she swiftly turned her head back to Midoriya. "Ah! Sorry, Deku," she frowned. Whatever giddy feeling in her heart that caused her to bounce and bubble over suddenly submitted to a daunting weight of grief. She conversed with her friends, and when Bakugou passed by her, she blurted, "See you in class tomorrow. Thank you for helping me study."

Of course, he failed to respond.

For whatever reason, she heard Iida and Midoriya sigh in relief.

Uraraka glided her fingers down the chain of the star necklace from that night at the arcade. Her mind, heart, and soul sensed impending conflict in the near future. To think, she wanted to say that the awkward night brought them closer.

"He was really worried about you all day," explained Iida with a smile.

"Who?" she asked after a startle caused her to jump from her thoughts. Did he mean Bakugou? Because he just may have been.

"Midoriya," Iida clarified as he placed both his hands on her shoulders, and he hoped to the heavens that her mind had not strayed from the path of virtue.

The green hair student rubbed the back of his neck and smiled, "Yeah." At least she had Bakugou to take care of her.

Uraraka shook her head and focused on the young man in front of her. His concern and a sheepish smile warmed her heart. She blushed and hid her face, and her light-hearted smile returned with a vengeance. She wouldn't admit this for a long time, but the heat in her heart did not compare to the blazing warmth that Bakugou provided that night.

A/N: Jeez, that was long. I'm tired now. I know it was kind of a one-room chapter, but hopefully, there was enough going on between Uraraka and Bakugou that it made up for it.

Chapter Text

How does someone like Bakugou realize their romantic feelings for someone like Uraraka? He felt his sanity slipping from him like a wet bar of soap. Gradually, he understood the repercussions of growing an attachment to her. She dominated his thoughts without moving. In fact, her absence from his vicinity strengthened her stronghold on him.

Contrary to the past few weeks, Bakugou's performance dipped across the board. His sloppy workout resulted in sore shoulders that reminded him just how careless he became when lifting weights. Uraraka managed to shatter his concentration both in and outside of the classroom.

These sickening thoughts of her cycled throughout him and deadened every limb until he felt nothing. While he knew what infatuation looked like, he had never felt it before her.

His lungs collapsed when she walked into the classroom. As she approached him, his eyes stayed fixated on her. Two forces collided in his core - a light, flowery felicity and a dark, hostile resistance to that useless sentiment. Such conflict required an exorbitant amount of energy, so that must have been why the air became thick and gravity became too much for any human to bear. The temperature climbed like that sensation escalated up his spine.

For the past few days, he thought about where she was and what she did and how she did it. That repugnant clairvoyance haunted him. As he slept the night before, he could picture how she curled into a ball beneath her blankets. Drool sparkled from the corners of her mouth as her soft breath pushed past her lips. And, she probably smiled at her sappy dreams of Deku - not Bakugou. More than likely, his mere name never grazed her mind for that entire weekend.

Without fail, the image of the green-haired dork incited rage within Bakugou, but for that moment, as she cruised into the classroom alone, he only thought of her.

"Bakugou!" she greeted with an enthusiastic smile that Monday.

In her hands, she held a sheet of paper with black and red ink. Bakugou only knew that from his peripheral, for his blank stare lingered on her bright, toothy grin.

Uraraka's slender, smooth fingers pointed to the number at the center of the red circle. "An 86! I couldn't have done this without you."

Flipping his exam to the blank side, he lowered his head to shoot a softened glare up Uraraka. Even he could feel the subdued effects of its typical ferocity. "Fuck off," he demanded, but to him, the phrase came off as a plea. He couldn't look at her for much longer without giving way to her buoyant aura. Even his heart floated.

They had somehow received the same score. The observation disgusted Bakugou. He usually did much better than that.

Uraraka's spunky spirit failed to falter in the wake of his effrontery. She knew him, or so, she would claim to know him if someone asked. As she stood in his presence, her speechless mouth promptly dropped to stare at him in a few moments of silence as she decided to interpret his response as she saw fit for the typically genial tone of their relationship. "Right," she muttered as if to recall what he had said. She looked to the ceiling and then back at him. "That's just Bakugou language for 'No problem. Anytime.'"

When her lips spread into a smile, Bakugou placed a flat hand against the edge of his brow. He wanted more than that curt and cordial address, for he harbored more turmoil in a single syllable than he witnessed across her ebullient expression. Gulping, he wiped his sweaty palms on his pants as he contemplated a comeback- anything like "fuck you" or "shut up." Instead, he averted his stare to the blank sheet of paper on his desk for what seemed like hours.

By the time that he checked in front of him, she had absconded with another chunk of his sanity. Bakugou watched as she damn near latched onto Midoriya's presence when he entered the room. Deja vu. This scene occurred before. Uraraka would approach him. Bakugou would curse her away. She would run to Midoriya.

Finally, the stark realization entered Bakugou's world. He yearned to have her cling to his arm and feel every degree of heat between them. And, as he peered across the room, his body climbed in temperature and left him in a torpor of silence. Foolish of him to have sought perfection, for he found it in Uraraka Ochako.

Bakugou trembled in his seat as he shoved his fingers through his ash blond hair. His entire body tensed when he heard her soft giggle.

She was too perfect. The aesthetic of her deep brown eyes and robust, chocolate hair completely effaced him. Her hair and face and eyes curved without faltering to a single blemish. The balance between her sensitivity and stubborn tenacity intrigued and hooked him to a suffocating surface. To top it all off, her past and motivations and stories enticed him. She was like some kind of warrior fairytale princess - no, a Queen.

Just then, he realized a legal marriage would not suffice. He wanted more. He wanted her heart, mind, and soul. He coveted the timid desires she harbored for Midoriya. Bakugou wanted her to want him. He wanted her love as his queen.

Brushing his fingertips across his cheeks, he wondered if others could see the scorching heat that spread through his face and down his neck. To protect his image, he buried his head in his arms. "No," he thought. His precipitous performance stemmed from Uraraka. Therefore, he concluded that she had somehow become his Achille's heel. All he could see was red. His body continued to accelerate towards an alien zenith.

Steam billowed from his ears as he could clearly recall the nauseating scenes of romance between his parents. He grew up with a clear picture of a loving relationship, and, as his mother once put it, time would soon dictate that he would desire the same - kissing, cuddling, and embracing a girl. And as he stewed in his self-contempt, he dreamt of Uraraka as the object of that foreign affection. In fact, only she could satiate his newfound hunger of companionship. Therefore, he would have to sever the cords of attachment that bound him to weakness.

In the few minutes they had before class, Sero and Kirishima witnessed the collapse of Bakugou. They knew he had finally realized his feelings. After exchanging a look, they figured they had to do some kind of intervention to help their friend. Directly approaching him would probably not help, so they waited until after class to devise a temporary solution.

"You told Ashido?!" Sero exclaimed to Kirishima in the commons of the dorm that late afternoon. Even he would not have gone as far as to tell a curious chatterbox like her. Just that moment, she capered around the room, looking to witness Bakugou's infatuation first-hand.

Kirishima rubbed the back of his head. "I figured she could help. You know, girls know more about this sort of thing than we do," he explained as he gesticulated with his free hand. His eyes, however, stayed on Ashido's back. He made a noticeable grin when she turned around and returned to them.

Pressing her hands against her cheeks, Ashido cheered, "I can't believe it. Uraraka didn't really seem like his type, but I guess opposites attract." She interlinked her two index fingers and giggled along with her middle school friend.

Still skeptical, Sero tapped his foot before he interjected, "Listen, you can't tell anybody. That'll ruin everything." Typically, Kirishima would have sense enough to not tell anyone, but on those odd occasions when Ashido got involved, Sero had to pick up the slack. Then, depending on how mischevious Kaminari happened to be, he would be helpful as well, but he had clean-up duty with Jirou.

Bakugou entered the room donning a black t-shirt and dark blue sweatpants. He headed towards the bathrooms as he dragged his feet across the floor. His shoulders lowered when the trio of classmates crossed his path. He halted.

Standing on the tips of her toes, Ashido whispered into the blonde's ear, "I heard you like Uraraka, is it true?"

Sero jumped and prepared to flee until he realized that Bakugou failed to react at all. Instead, his dull eyes fixated on the door of the bathroom. Not a single twitch sparked in the corners of his mouth or on the span of his brow. His silence caused the pink girl to cover her face in excitement. Kirishima placed a hand on her shoulder in an attempt to keep her composed. Of course, she interpreted Bakugou's silence as a confirmation as her eyes filled with glossy light.

"She likes someone else," revealed Ashido without any padding for her statement, "but you should probably tell her. I can tell her for you."

Bakugou knew who Uraraka liked. He could put together the clearly defined pieces. Would Bakugou punch Midoriya in the face if he walked into the room at that moment? Probably not. His numb arms could hardly lift away from his sides. That wouldn't make Uraraka love him either. Shaking his head, he decided aloud, "There's nothing to tell. I've already decided."

Sincere concern furrowed Ashido's brows as she added, "What? I thought you wanted to marry her."

"Not anymore," he muttered as he pushed past the trio. If this putrid infatuation continued, he needed to distance himself from Uraraka as much as possible. The prospect of badass offspring could not interfere with his current goals of winning the title for the world's best hero. Yet, as soon as the thought of forcing a wedge between him and Uraraka entered his mind, his chest cringed in pain. Hopefully, that would fade.

All or nothing. That's how he lived. At least, that's how he had lived. If he couldn't jerk Uraraka's attention towards him with what he had already done, then he wanted nothing to do with her.

Emerging from the restroom, he meandered across the commons and past his friends before halting along with the thickening air. His heart raced ahead of him as he froze in place. Slowly, he turned his head to scan the immediate area before honing in on that familiar shade of chestnut brown hair. On the couch, meters away from him, sat the lovely Uraraka Ochako as she captivated her audience of Ashido, Sero, and Kirishima.

She gasped in a high-pitch voice like cold water hit her by surprise, "Oh!"

His heart dipped, he knew what was coming.

"Bakugou! I was looking for you."

A summoning. How presumptuous of her!

For some ungodly and impalpable reason, he marched towards her noxious atmosphere. Tucking his hands into his pockets, he decided to fixate a stare in any direction besides her. "What?" he asked.

Uraraka jumped from her spot and gripped the short sleeve of his t-shirt. "Can we talk?" she asked in a clear and soft tone. Then, even more tender than before, she implored, "Alone."

The grins of Bakugou's friends damn near made a glare in his peripheral. He jerked his arm away from the anti-gravity girl's clutch. "Get off of me," he scolded despite the fact that he wished for such a gesture earlier that day. Peering down into her eager and friendly eyes, he lowered his shoulders. Bakugou took a deep breath before relinquishing his circumspect tension to hear her out. Without another word, she walked away, and he pursued her.

She didn't even look back as she exited the building like she knew that her faithful study buddy would follow. And Bakugou heeled within a fixed distance as if she held the chain to his collar.

A collar. On him? No wonder he had a lump in his throat. He wanted to berate her for such arrogance, but instead, he silently tailed her like a dog. He needed to end this game that very second.

"I want a rematch. Is that okay?" Uraraka said against the wind on that blustery afternoon.

Despite the noise of the weather, he heard her as he always did. And, she captured him with a rare offer he could not refuse. "For what? Video games? I'd kick your ass," replied Bakugou.

Twirling around back to face him, she pressed her palms together and looked up at Bakugou. "No, I want to fight you again - just like at the Sports Festival. I'm a lot stronger now, and I want to see how much I've changed." That glint of determination sparked through her eyes.

Tightening his frown, he finally fixed his brow to glare at her. Still, he could feel that his fire had yielded to the nervous tautness that dominated his body. His breathing hitched, and he held his hot breath. He needed to tell her to fuck off before he imploded. Instead, he scoffed.

Uraraka's gleeful smile faltered. Earlier that day, she had listened to Midoriya rave about his time spent with Tsuyu. Her jealous heart could not forget the enthusiasm in his voice as he talked about going to the movies with her. Bakugou's presence mollified that anguish. Well, typically he would, but that day, she could sense an unusual demeanor about him. Uraraka's lip quivered as she reflected on anything she could have said to alienate him. "We could just have a friendly spar as friends today, ya' know," she suggested.

Bakugou despised that acknowledgment of a friendship. They weren't friends - they were betrothed. The mere word knotted his stomach. From his perspective, she had too much audacity to fear him, but inducing that aversion may have been the only way to push her away.

He snatched her wrist and pulled it towards the sky. With the slightest bit of more effort, he could have dangled her above the ground. "I'm not your friend, Uraraka," he declared with a smirk and yearned for fear to appear in her eyes or posture or movement, yet any hint of terror remained completely absent.

Her eyes widened back at his darkened glare. She met his leer after a chill went down her spine. Naturally, her heart rate sped, and she gulped, but he struggled to entirely subdue her. The exposure of her body as Bakugou lifted her arm brought a sense of vulnerability without the company of fear. His secure grip on her wrist and his fixated eyes assured her safety. Reminiscing about the Bakugou of her dreams, she failed to anticipate harm. Instead, excitement lit her curious stare and sparked a true grin across her face.

Uraraka nodded, "Okay." She didn't need the title of a friendship with Bakugou. She just needed Bakugou, or else her mind would dwell on her distance from Midoriya.

At the training arena, Bakugou stood frozen meters away from his sparring partner. He crossed his arms across his chest. How did he end up in this trap?

"How does your quirk work again?" asked Uraraka as she stretched her legs before whatever kind of exercise they would do for that day. She could not read Bakugou's guarded demeanor for the life of her. To her, he had been behaving oddly all that day with terse replies and aggravated outbursts.

"Dumbass! You should have learned that shit when you fought me!" he shouted - his hair may as well have stood straight from his head.

Focusing on the muscles in her arms, Uraraka reached to the ceiling and leaned back to stretch as much of her upper body as possible before exhaling and letting out a drawn-out sigh. "Sweat, right? And then, you know how my quirk works," she assumed before a sudden pause in their conversation. Ceasing her pre-workout routine, she took a small step towards her sparring partner and watched Bakugou take a full leap backward as if to dodge an attack. She nervously laughed, "What'd I do?"

Bakugou had formed an X with his arms to assume a perfect defensive stance. His hair hung in his face, but even that was not enough to shield him from her overbearing presence. He panted, "Your hands. You touch things with your hands." And, in his waking daydreams, the enchanting Uraraka had touched him. "No!" he shouted aloud to silence his risqué desires - red in the face. But dammit if that pink and black fighting outfit of hers never looked that enticing.

Every damn curve of her body. He could see how smooth it'd be to palpitate her legs, for even those were accentuated by her large, white boots.

Puzzled, Uraraka tilted her head to the side. "Bakugou," she whined and stepped forward - he leaped backward again. "What are you doing? I'm not gonna start fighting yet." Raising her hands, she revealed her raised, pink spots on her fingertips. Furrowing her eyebrows, she studied his tremors and wasn't sure what to make of them. Maybe he was sick or maybe it was part of his technique. Regardless, she suggested, "How about I touch you?"

He breathed through his grimacing teeth, "What?" That witch could read his thoughts and used that knowledge to her advantage. He just knew it. Clapping his hands together, he snapped himself out of his raunchy stupor with a sharp and controlled explosion.

The anti-gravity fighter stopped reaching for Bakugou's arm and hit her fist to her palm. "Oh," exclaimed Uraraka with an enthusiastic glimmer in her eyes, "I know - you can float with me. Let's do it together. That way you can see how lame it really is." She extended her hand after realizing that touching Bakugou wouldn't be the best course of action. After all, he was just like a stray dog. She had to let him come to her. So then, she tapped the side of her abdomen and drifted from the pull of the earth.

By that point, Bakugou managed to compose himself enough to not overreact to that innocuous double entendre of "let's do it together." He took a deep breath and bore his fangs. If he did not reach for her, then he would miss his chance. Her pleading, wide eyes peered down at him like an immaculate angel. As she strayed further from him, his heart sped until he finally reached to touch her fingertips before she floated too far.

"Soft." That was the last thing Bakugou thought before he abandoned the earth and joined her in the air. Every joint in his legs and arms bent to a 90-degree angle. He scowled up at her as she giggled to her heart's content. Had he thoroughly recounted what it would mean to throw in the towel and separate from her?

"Not even Iida floats like that," laughed Uraraka. "You're doin' it like a robot."

Bakugou failed to break their eye contact to observe his posture. He knew how he appeared. "I have to keep my body rigid when I fight or else I might fuck my arms up," he explained.

"Really?" she exclaimed. "But, we're not gonna fight right now, so you can relax."

"Nice try, I'm not going to let my guard down." Especially not around her. He repeated that in his mind until he began to recall the light and dizzy sensation of flying through the air without the binding of the earth. That was not to say that gravity had completely left him. In fact, he began to notice in the middle of the air that he gravitated towards the lovely light of Uraraka. His abdomen tensed as he realized that he spoke too soon - he had indeed slightly yielded to the supernatural relaxation of her presence.

He didn't like that she floated above him. She literally looked down to him.

Uraraka held her hands out for him once more and bit her lip. "What if you gave me some of your sweat and I made that float? Would that work?" As gross as it may have sounded, she could not stifle her penchant for their quirk harmony.

Of course, he had considered that, and he had plenty of fresh sweat that coated his palms. Sliding his hand against hers, he watched the nitrous oxide bubble up in the air. "Get back," he commanded firmly enough for her to hear and soft enough to not inspire an ounce of fright. Once she had backed away a distance, he flung glycerine to meet the nitrous oxide in mid-air.

The collision caused a crackling explosion a distance away. Orange and red light sparkled while suspended in the air.

"Amazing!" squealed Uraraka. She pressed her knuckled against her pink cheeks. "They're like fireworks!"

Bakugou only witnessed the interaction for a fraction of a second before his crimson eyes abruptly shifted to his "sparring partner." Her eyes glowed brighter than the chemical reaction, and he loathed them. Pressing a fist against his chest, he ground his teeth. Had he forgotten the euphoria she incited in him? The corners of his mouth twitched as he watched her cheer and beg for them to do it again.

Met with his silence, Uraraka's face slowly dropped into a frown. "Bakugou," she whispered before she knew what to say. She cursed her thoughts for straying back to that dream she had of her happy family life with Bakugou. As she floated - weightless and free from the burden of gravity - her heart fluttered under his softened glare. "There's gotta be somebody else that's better for you. Somebody prettier and with a better quirk. Somebody that you actually like, dontcha think?" Her accent had thickened at the tail of that question like it often did when she became unnerved.

That somebody that she spoke of simply did not exist. Her classic, simple beauty drew every last breath from him. She was the best. Therefore, Uraraka was the only one for him. In that moment, Bakugou could not fathom parting from her. While he had coined the plan to sever all connections to her earlier that day, he was far too close to her to think clearly. Therefore, he wouldn't waste his energy. "Do it again," he demanded as he stretched his arm to grab her hand.

She grazed his hand with hers before he gripped her fingertips with his.

Abruptly, he pulled her towards him, for he wasn't sure if he could reach. Accompanied with his somewhat limited knowledge of physics, she accelerated towards him to his surprise.

Bakugou caught Uraraka against his chest and in his arms.

And.

Terror faded the background to white.

And.

Instinct or fate or some force beyond gravity dominated them.

And.

Their hearts pounded against each other's chest. The flames of their cheeks bonded. Their moist, frazzled bangs intertwined. Eyes, completely awake, made an unbreakable connection. Bakugou's lips met Uraraka's. By the second, they set into their frozen shock and stayed embraced in the middle of the scorching atmosphere. The only course they could follow led to them yielding to their innate hunger for more.

Pitch black darkness possessed them as their eyes closed. They lost themselves and found each other.

Who slipped their tongue first? It didn't matter. Both would swear it was an accident in the aftermath.

The tip of Uraraka's tongue grazed the inside of his cheek in a way that excited his core. He gripped her waist.

She pushed away upon the sudden, additional contact. Pressing, her clammy hands together, she caught the smirk on Bakugou's mouth through the tears in her eyes before she beckoned gravity to bring them down to Earth. Did he plan everything? How could he be so smug after stealing something so precious?

They dropped to the ground - Bakugou fell on his back as Uraraka gracefully landed on the heels of her boots before she took off running.

Engulfed by the flames of the moment, the blond combustible fighter shoved fingers through his sweaty bangs and laughed. And laughed. And laughed. Fate had strung him through a hell of a lot, but now he knew that he couldn't give up. "I'm gonna kill that woman!" he roared loud enough to rock the entire arena. He could guarantee that the dork known as Deku had not gotten that far with her. He had successfully and accidentally reached a milestone that no man had ever been before.

Such a proper sign lit a beacon of hope for Bakugou. Uraraka was meant for him.

Chapter Text

I want to love you wildly. I don't want words, but inarticulate cries, meaningless, from the bottom of my most primitive being, that flow from my belly like honey. A piercing joy, that leaves me empty, conquered, silenced.

— Anaïs Nin

Vigor and vitality lit the flames in Bakugou's eyes. The same ember scorched his red face. The blinding fluorescent lights of the room dimmed and darkened as his classmates huddled around him as he lied flat on the floor. Even if they said something, their words did not matter to him. He had kissed Uraraka. Fate signaled itself and guided him back to her. Therefore, they were meant for each other.

Again, he rejoiced. Deku would never have the guts to do something like that, and he would never in a million years be able to take her first kiss because she only got one of those.

That was her first kiss, right?

Bakugou cursed himself for doubting her innocence. Of course, it was.

Although his nerves had settled into an elated and elevated sense of glee, his heart still pounded against his chest. A stirring in his gut erupted before he jumped into a sitting position and bent over - tossing his lunch in the process. Right, that was one of the adverse reactions of floating in zero-gravity with Uraraka. Nausea had not settled as louder commotion stirred in his stomach. Such a sensation resembled the daunting premonition of his instinct. Danger still lurked in the area.

Bakugou lurched up and straight past Kirishima and Sero. Wait, did they witness the kiss? He wasn't ready for that, for the combative hero had yet to assess his sentiment on the situation. He twisted his torso back towards their speechless, dropping faces. "Who put a stick up your asses?" he asked with his tight grimace. Stomping up towards them, he pointed at the space where he had laid. "You fuckers didn't see anything, did you?"

Such an incriminating line passed his tongue, but his internal hubris brimmed too brightly for any bit of critical analysis.

Ashido ran up to the scene of the crime as chipper as ever after a quick trip to the restroom. A disappointed frown dragged the corners of her mouth as she furrowed her eyebrows. "Did something happen?" she asked to Kirishima who she thought would spill the beans immediately. "Did Ochako beat him?"

Already, Kirishima developed a deep sense of regret for allowing the situation to escalate. Scratching the back of his head, he wondered where his mind had been to allow an innocent girl like Uraraka get caught up with Bakugou's selfish desires. His mouth hung in an open frown as he stared blankly at an empty space between his friends. If Bakugou showed shame, then Kirishima may have seen him as innocent. Instead, he glanced at the ferocious smirk plastered on his maniacal facade like a predator that had just captured a satisfying kill.

And, that's exactly how Bakugou felt - satisfied, but he did not calculate such a feat. The lack of premeditation failed to deaden his ego. He puffed his chest out like a cock and continued to stomp away.

Times such as those, Sero wanted to aggressively confront Bakugou, but he assumed that if he somehow became hostile, the tape hero would be in over his head. Turning to Kirishima, he knew they were both at or near the same level. In a way, the kiss was his fault. Sero's signature grin had turned into a grimace. "Dude," he lightly scorned. What had been done could not be undone.

"Tell me!" Ashido begged as she clasped her hands together. Surely, her good buddy, Kirishima would tell her. Light entered her dark eyes as she peered up at him.

Weakened, Kirishima took in a breath and opened his mouth.

Sero quickly taped it shut. "Nothing happened," he muttered through tightened teeth.

As Bakugou abandoned his friends, dreams of the future entered his mind. For the entire time that he had Uraraka in his plans, he had never envisioned their future together. Aside from the occasional wet dream or daydream, he kept his emotional attachment to her out of his fantasies. Yet now that fate had decreed for their betrothal, he allowed his desires to sprout into a lovely vision of Uraraka as his wife.

Would her pink cheeks redden when she tasted the glorious feast he prepared for her? Would her eyes sparkle when he proposed? How high would she climb in the rankings of heroes? In the features of their child, how much of her beauty would they inherit? Sunlight filled the darkest corners of his mind as thoughts of her drew weightless breath from his mouth. He covered his face and snickered again. How wide would her smile be when she realized that she had whisked the great and immovable Bakugou Katsuki into a whimsical, earth-shattering romance?

Bakugou would allow her to gloat but only for a few moments before he dipped and subdued her into a sequel to their passionate, cosmic kiss.

A flawless woman for his transcendental romance. Yes, even Bakugou could mold his pride to allow for such a detour especially if it catalyzed the sparking fervor that crackled through his body as he left to the locker room.

Could they skip to the future?

That night, he dreamt of her.

Bakugou's Dream

"Kacchan, wake up," whined Uraraka as she put pressure on Bakugou's shoulder atop a fresh, clean bed. She wrapped the white sheets around her head as she smiled up at him. "Guess what?" Donning a lacy, black pajama gown, she kneeled on the edge of the mattress as her wide eyes eagerly awaited for him to acknowledge her.

Instead lieu of words, he pressed his thumb upon her right, red cheek and pulled. The spots on her face were made for him after all - soft and molding to the slight force he applied much like the conforming mattress that they laid on. She smiled, for her confidence most likely led her to believe that he would never hurt her in such a setting. Only during sparring when she demanded that he not hold back would he ever lie a combative hand on her.

"Kacchan! It's serious," she pleaded.

Bakugou sat up and scanned her features for anguish. Any slight frown would send him into a defensive frenzy, for she surely knew by then that he would kill for her. That sly girl smirked in her own, innocent style with her eyebrows knitting to display her amusement. "What?" he answered after a sigh. He dragged his free hand down his face as he stared at her through the spaces of his fingers.

She looked like a bride with the cotton, white towel that she wrapped around her shimmering, wet hair like a veil. Her hair had grown past her shoulders. Time had passed since high school.

Boldly, she placed her tender, small hand on his chest and leaned forward with centimeters between their faces. After a pause, she whispered into his ear, "I'm a rankin' hero now."

"About fucking time," Bakugou grinned before he hesitantly gripped the sides of her waist and pulled her closer. "You shoulda placed after that Ice House incident, but they sure do take their sweet time." What was he saying? He had not made such memories yet.

But, the sentiment of pride in another - in Uraraka resonated with him. The agency she displayed as a hero, as a woman, as a fellow human had always been a quality he respected in her. While he may have revered senior heroes like All Might and respected fellow hero trainees like Kirishima and maybe Midoriya, he had pride in Uraraka. He valued her success almost as much as he did his own, so the grin that popped onto his face proved impossible to drop.

Uraraka blushed at the contact. She gazed down at him as braced herself over him before tenderly stroking the side of his face. "I'm just happy I got up there," she giggled before biting her bottom lip. "I was thinkin' now that I'm getting to be a more popular hero and I'm making more money and stuff - maybe we could finally get married."

Heat flooded his face and the rest of his body. "Eh? Hah?!" Gripping the air, he grunted, "Shut up. Don't be an idiot." He jumped up to sit on the edge of the bed and wiped the cold sweat from his brow and through his muted blond hair. Suddenly, he froze, for he finally realized the inappropriate taste of acridity in his mouth. Hesitant, Bakugou needed to assure that he did not annihilate the person he cared for the most, for if he inflicted the slightest tinge of pain on her, his heart would shatter. His brow furrowed before he peeked over his should at her pensive smile.

His brow furrowed before he peeked over his shoulder at her pensive smile. Fortunately, her brown eyes lacked the glimmer of tears. Even in his dreams, he could not identify sadness in her features. And that panicked him more than anything. He did not know whether to comfort her or correct himself or run away. He had never cared to that capacity for another person's feelings. His chest tightened before he tightened his hand around her forearm and pulled her closer to get a better look. Bakugou had never studied someone's face with the intention of sympathizing.

Even at that proximity, he could not read sadness or understanding on the surface of her reddened cheeks or the dark pupils of her round eyes. But, from that distance, his instinct drove him to act by carefully caressing up her arm to her shoulder where he boldly placed a kiss. Glancing up at her, he saw light re-enter, so he kissed her again but this time on the lobe of her ear.

"Ka," she moaned or maybe she said, "Ga."

Either way, he took that as a sign to continue. Their eyes met. A small, lively smile grew on her lips curious and pleased as ever. Bakugou gritted his teeth as he tilted his head against his shoulder and leaned in leaving less than an inch between their mouths. "Don't get things twisted, Ochako," he demanded, and there were more words on the tip of his tongue and the pit of his gut, but by each passing moment she drew air from his chest and left him breathless.

"Katsuki," she said in her sweet, soft voice, "I'll always understand you because I know your heart. Don't worry about me, I'm not going anywhere, 'kay?"

Did she know that that pitch and note and tone could instantly melt the core of heart to nothing? All he knew was that he needed to kiss her, so he did. He kissed her neck and cheeks until he found his way to her supple lips but before they could finally kiss, the world around him faded to darkness. Before he could scream into the void, the suffocating atmosphere silenced him.

owari

Bakugou woke up in a pool of his wretched sweat. He gasped for air as he sat up in his dimly lit dorm room. That was not the wet dream he typically experienced regarding Uraraka. Touching his face, his hands twitched as he identified the collection of hot water beneath his eyes. When he shut them, residual tears fell to his bed. "Fuck," he cursed. His chest still hurt as his heart still raced. He felt pain despite escaping the nightmare of losing her.

Right, her.

He panted and collected his thoughts. In waking life, he still had Uraraka at the center of his bright horizon. Within hours, he would see her once more and continue where they had left off the day before. He would leave earlier than usual that moment and truncate every activity in his routine just to see Uraraka a little sooner that morning so that he could alleviate his ache.

That loss haunted him in the still of that quiet dawn. Is this terror what love meant?

Uraraka felt like a coward that morning. She fled from Midoriya and Iida and Tsu the day before. She hid in her room the morning before class. While she could have left late enough to reach her desk seconds before the bell, surely her friends would come searching for her.

She did not want to deal with anything or anyone that day. The scene of Bakugou falling through the air and deliberately peering across at her had stayed in her mind and followed her into her dreams. While she may not have spotted any definitive trace of malicious intent in his demonic red eyes, she knew by the smirk on his lips that he obtained satisfaction from one of the most heart-wrenching tragedies of her young life.

Through the blustery, early autumnal atmosphere of the path to school, she walked alone and allowed her her thoughts to carry blur her surroundings. His tepid taste had lingered much like the dazzling sensation of his hands on her back and head. Surely, classmates, teachers, strangers would recognize his signature on her - especially her dear friend, Midoriya. Tears bubbled in the corners of her eyes once more as she gulped down a hard lump in her throat.

She slapped her cheeks a few times before wiping her eyes clean of any distress. Bright-eyed and joyful! That's the persona she had to plaster so that the world would never know. Even deeper than her intentions to hide the lurid activity, she wanted to bury and mask and burn any parcel of pleasure she derived from the event. In fact, any time the notion of past pleasure bobbed to the surface of her mind, she temporarily blacked-out.

Suppression! Every good hero needed a trait like that in order to be alert and dextrous at all times.

Tracing the cracks of the tiled hallways with her sturdy stare, she took a few deep breaths before sliding the door open. The room should have been empty at that time. A few meters down the quiet hall, Uraraka heard a few students. Without looking back, she dashed inside. If Midoriya happened to be in that group, she would die! There was no way she was ready to face him yet.

Once she shut the door, her cold, sweaty forehead dove forward to escape but instead collided with a warm, firm back. Firm yet giving like her pillow. Heated like comforting blankets had been that morning. Her knees trembled like her breathy, quiet apology. "Sorry," she said. She pulled back her disheveled hair to look up through her bangs to identify her unintentional victim.

Before she caught sight of the person, her heart twisted and turned and nauseated her before dipping towards her wringing gut. Her head shot up to peer up at the burst of muted, blonde hair. Bakugou of all people. She wanted to cry or puke or both. Why him?

"Oi! Who the fuck pushed me?" he burst as he turned around. Though he had such a volatile outburst, fear had shot up his back like a startled cat and stayed with him as he recognized the girl behind him. In the last of his breath, he could only say one thing. "Oh."

Somehow, Uraraka needed to keep walking, but she couldn't. Fight or flight needed to save her but she could only freeze in place. Furrowing her eyebrows, she thought, "No calling me Ochako? How nice of you, Bakugou." Sarcastically, of course. His possible, secret heart of gold was the last thing on her mind.

The background noise and people and images of the classroom had whited out from their perspective. They only saw and knew each other and what had happened between them.

However, fellow classmates clashed into the thick tension of the scene. Few words had been spoken in the moments that they entered one by one. The dense silence of the room made the single sounds of Uraraka and Bakugou's encounter loud and clear.

Bakugou's face dropped once he realized that Uraraka would not acknowledge him. Did that mean she would still be difficult? Did he have to try? He had no idea where to start to keep her near him or get her to admit that he had won her and had sealed the occasion with a kiss. They were basically officially betrothed to each other - promised by fate to marry and possibly even love.

Audible blood rushed to their reddening faces. Everyone could hear and certainly see it.

When Uraraka realized she couldn't move, a bolt of divine energy awakened her that morning. "Maybe you shouldn't stand in the doorway, Bakugou!" she retorted. A burst of audacity boomed from her small frame. "You think about other people for a change. Just leave me alone."

Fully turning around to face her, Bakugou smirked and nearly grinned at that plucky behavior. He witnessed just how his charcoal attitude scratched her innocent demeanor. If she wanted to play a game of wits, then he would oblige. He could talk to her easier that way anyway, and heaven knew just how much he wanted to see her that morning. "Little round face's got a chip on her shoulder this morning," he said as he turned his nose up. "Don't think we're equals."

By the seconds of silence, his knees began to rattle slightly.

She hoped he never mention the kiss, but she could see it replay in his eyes. Uraraka quickly sighed out her shortened breath. Eyeing the perimeter of the room, she woefully noted their audience including none other than Midoriya who held a protective hand to block his peripheral vision from watching her. Uraraka willed her legs to walk past Bakugou.

Nausea tainted his gut when he caught sight of Deku's dark green hair. He had feared that Uraraka would flee to him, but why? Things were supposed to be different that morning, yet at that point, she failed to even look at Bakugou. His fears bore fruit, and with that fear, he grabbed her shoulder as if to beg or plea, "Look at me."

Uraraka used her padless palm to shove him back into a desk. She did not give him the satisfaction of glance when he fell back on his ass. The chorus of laughter from the class neither pleased her nor mortified her. As if she never touched Bakugou, she pranced over to Midoriya's desk. "Deku, can I talk to you after school?" she asked with a trembling tension in her brow.

Too shaken to stand, Bakugou watched Uraraka's back with fresh, hot tears in his eyes. A fissure ripped through the meridium of his chest as he witnessed Uraraka's unwavering indifference. He never felt such weakness accompanied by such pain. The tears did not escape his eyes when he grunted, "Ochako!" He paused to clear his throat. "Did you forget?" he asked in a low, dry tone.

Everyone and everything froze. Not that they mattered. Uraraka cringed and shut her eyes to brace for his public revelation. Above all, she could hear the raw traces of pain in his shaking voice, and she put his pride or fragility or whatever it was above her own. Why was this so difficult for her? What had changed? She suddenly felt sympathy rather than fear that he would reveal their accidental kiss.

"We have plans."

Chapter Text

"We have plans."

Uraraka released her forced smile. She bit her lip before trying again with a toothy grin. "Sorry, Deku," she apologized with residual anguish straining her voice. The tears of Bakugou that she never saw stained her mind. The dizzying pace of the scene gave her pause before she continued, "Let's do something tomorrow maybe."

Any giggle or laughter in the tightening throats of the classroom came to a halt. The gravity of the situation suddenly alarmed the majority. They had witnessed how forcibly Uraraka pushed Bakugou after sudden contact,and they had to wonder how he could have pushed her to defensively resist his touch.

Uraraka was a good girl. She would never attack someone unless provoked. And the fear in her round eyes when he merely touched her shoulder led even Bakugou's friends to believe that he may have harmed her.

When Bakugou stood, all eyes seared his back as he tucked his hands into his pockets and dragged his feet to his desk. He kept his head low and weakly shuffled.

There had to be more to the story. Sero and Kirishima knew slightly more - the kiss. Then, Bakugou and Uraraka knew of the passion within the embrace, but only one of them could admit to it. The other forced the memory into the depth of denial.

The door slid open and caused a sharp clamor at the entrance. The silent classroom jumped in their seats or wherever they stood in the room.

Class started. Everyone scurried to their seats. That session, they struggled to concentrate as their imagination ran wild.

Bakugou replayed the dry glare that he thought Uraraka could only direct at an enemy. That was not the spark of defiance that piqued his interest, but an empty, lifeless glare. She looked at him like he hurt her.

And, in a way, their speculations and theories held truth.

Meters from the entrance of the school, Bakugou tapped his foot and checked his phone. He tousled his hair with his sweaty palms and grunted in an attempt to rid of the stress that heavily weighed on his chest. Only a few days prior did he finally come to terms with his infatuation or love or crush on his precious partner, but now he had to comprehend how she felt and why the fuck she had to do a 180 with her mood. He didn't do anything wrong! In fact, according to his guidelines, he had been nice to her. He wiped his forehead and his eyes, too, as he dragged his hand down his face.

Upon opening his eyes, he met Iida and the back of Midoriya who stood closely behind the blue hair representative.

"Okay, Bakugou, I'll allow you to explain yourself," began Iida. "I'm willing to take your perspective into consideration, but ultimately, I'll address Uraraka's concerns." He wanted to handle the incident formally. Given the context of the situation, with Bakugou's obsessive and primal proposal, he strained to keep himself from assuming the worst. Lowering his head, he maintained a sturdy stare.

Haughty as ever, Bakugou lifted his head as if he had esteem to spare. He smirked, "I don't have to explain a god damn thing to you, four-eyes. What happened is none of your fucking business." He wouldn't tell. He hung the knowledge of that sacred kiss above Iida's head, for he feared ridicule. People would confirm his deep-rooted fear that a kiss meant nothing if it were accidental. He wanted to believe in fate.

In the distance, a small branch snapped much like Iida's temper. His calf tightened, rearing to go, yet he used every bit of restraint to growl through his teeth, "Now."

Midoriya timidly checked over his shoulder to observe the escalation. "Maybe we should see what Uraraka has to say first," suggested the mediator.

Scoffing, Bakugou eyed the perimeter of the courtyard for his partner. He knew she would come. However, she had the privilege to take her sweet time because he was too caught up in his thoughts to pay attention to whether or not she followed. That entire day, he struggled to concentrate. Typically, he could at least remember the topics of each lecture, but that day he could hardly remember his teachers' names.

More people swarmed him. Their questions didn't matter. Girls of his class reprimanded him for what he allegedly did to Uraraka. His squad stranded themselves from the crowd in the distance as they awaited his plea or explanation. Everyone wanted to cross-examine him and prosecute him, but he didn't lay a finger on her.

By the shredding sensation in his chest, he could only think of how she hurt him. Louder than the clamor of kids, that vexing burden of empathy roared the loudest. What the hell did he do to her?

Yet and still, when she entered his line of sight, he could breathe through the suffocating cloud of classmates and persevered past them. Somehow, the root of his pain was the panacea for his anguish and everything that plagued him.

Did Class 1-A catch the trembling gait of Bakugou? Did they see that he strained to maintain his grimace in her presence? Did they hear his words scratch up his throat when he said, "Uraraka." The pain clouded his vision still, and his voice would not typically carry in the low, crackling whisper that he used.

Uraraka had shattered him.

Her ears perked up, and she rubbed her neck like a bee had passed her head. Gulping, she held her head down low when she asked, "Are you ready, Bakugou?"

The crowd of people parted as she walked up to him. If she consented, then how could they confront her? By her low, hanging head and abject despondence, they knew something was awry. However, for that moment, not a single person spoke up.

"About damn time," he chided or at least he tried to ridicule her lack of punctuality. His criticism came across like the prodding of a blunt spear.

The couple of classmates trailed off around the corner of the entrance abandoning an austere and speechless mass of people.

Uraraka followed him like a dog all the way out. While just yesterday he craved this scenario, he abhorred her plaintive submission. Hopeful for some miracle, his right hand dangled at his side with the mirage of a fantasy that she might reach her small, soft hand and grab his once more. He would rather some pathetic hand-holding gesture than have her pathetically trail behind him like a pet.

He wanted her by his side.

Once again Bakugou and Uraraka found themselves stuck in a train car, teeming with blabbering strangers. Against their thoughts, people, sounds and things cluttered their surroundings as screaming white noise. Still, it fell silent, and the bubble that grew around them muted the clamor to silence and whited the backdrop.

Even as he held his head straight and stared above the crown of Uraraka's head, the surroundings could not tear his fixation on her. Uraraka tightly squeezed her eyes shut as she clutched onto the cold metal bar to the side of her. Bakugou's heat consumed her like a blazing flame, or perhaps she felt the physical manifestation of her turmoil.

She gulped. Anger would have been easier to express, but something deeper and more primal roared louder than any other sentiment. To top off her putrid layered cake of anguish, her paranoia yearned to console him for some ungodly reason despite the fact that she felt like screaming. Their relationship - no, their friendship had tangled into a heap of complications.

Of course, she had not been able to expel the ethereal solace he had offered her in her dream from her memory. That mythical, soft side of him trailed her like a ghost.

"I didn't like that shit you pulled earlier," Bakugou said, cutting through the air with his sharp voice.

Uraraka jumped and squeaked, "W-What shit?" Covering her mouth, she realized her vulgar language.

Breaking character, Bakugou cracked a small smirk before regressing back into a grimace. The grief had certainly not left him, but damn was that slip-up cute.

The student hero knew she needed to at least apologize for shoving him and humiliating him, but for the sanctity of her conscience, she could not admit to even herself that she was the one that wrung the trembling pain from his voice. However, the scene continued to silence her in that moment.

Gripping the strap above his head, Bakugou snapped, "You fucking wanted it." He failed to search her expressive profile for a confirmation, for he knew that would cause his hostility to waver. Aside from that, he could bet his life that she found pleasure in that kiss. He licked his lip and bit down onto it until he nearly drew blood.

Uraraka fell silent. Her eyes shot open. Since the incident, she obsessed over whether or not Bakugou had criminal intent rather than pubescent lust. Until then, she had suppressed the morsel of a suspicion that she longed for Bakugou to grapple her like he did that strap. Slowly, she raised her head and caught a glimpse of his seething scowl. What would happen if he bit her lip like he did his own? She shivered when she muttered, "You sound like a villain."

He shouldn't have said that.

After taking a long, deep breath, he growled, "Why did you grab me? Huh? Why did you hold me? Why did you taste me like I was some snack for you to play with? Then you chicken out once you figure that you might actually like it. You don't shove your tongue down somebody's throat like that and call it an accident. F-Fuck you." Bakugou's shaking words trailed out until they had become a bitter whisper. His voice had betrayed him. It cracked and stuttered.

In a pathetic attempt to defend herself, Uraraka held back her tears to say, "B-But Bakugou, you were the one that planned it. You probably wanted to claim me like you did when you - you know." The bite.

"Planned it? What the fuck are you saying?" he nearly shouted. Bakugou knew that she knew that he regretted that pathetic bite he left on her.

Uraraka retrieved the scene of his stark, white smirk as they fell from meters above the earth. The buoyant sensation of the kiss's aftermath returned as if she relived the moment. "You smi- no, you grinned. That's why I thought you planned it," she faltered as her conviction wavered. If he lacked malice in that moment, then why where did he derive the satisfaction?

"Fuck me for being," he began before pausing. Happy. The once pleasant memory inflicted a jolt of pain through his chest. Bakugou knew he needed to drop it. He could be the bad guy. He could put the entire situation behind him and let her go for the last time. "It wasn't like that."

Just then, a loud, sharp screech of the announcement sliced through their bubble. The sound was not particularly high in pitch nor out of the ordinary, but it was enough to pop the tension of their conflict.

Upon looking up, Uraraka realized that she had clung to Bakugou's blazer, and he had attentively wrapped his arm around her shoulder.

"Watch it!"

"Excuse you!"

They pushed away from each other.

His reddened face exposed his humanity. Sadness and regret impeded Uraraka as she struggled to regain some level of composure. She watched as Bakugou's hand grazed the area of his chest where she had clung. His shoulders shrunk. Accompanied with the clear anguish in his frown, he gave the impression of a wounded animal.

What did a smile mean if the kiss were an accident?

Already, the empty, cold air chilled her, and she longed to near him once again. By the skill of her muscle memory, she had been flicking her tongue against her teeth in the same way she did when they kissed. Why?!

She shook her head and slapped her cheeks.

To consider Bakugou's humanity meant to consider that his only take-away was pure and innocuous felicity. She was the villain who had humiliated him and drew tears from his ponderous pride. The pain she heard could have been the resonating sound of his shattering heart. To continue about her day, she needed to remind herself that Bakugou only wanted to marry her for her quirk. That night of tutoring had confirmed it.

Right, she knew he didn't like her.

The constant pursuit of a quirk marriage rather than a mere friendship may have been her motivation for quickly believing he had ulterior motives and willed the kiss. While she knew not to be so foolish as to plan for her first kiss to be with Midoriya, she only had eyes for him. Someone as sweet and kind as he was probably deserved someone untainted by his tormentor's lips and teeth and hands. Before that day, she held out hope that she could one day be worthy of her beloved friend.

Wrongfully, she displaced that disgust on Bakugou. An apology! They could still be friends if she apologized and forgot the whole thing. She was surprised that Bakugou didn't suggest that himself.

The train halted, and she collided into Bakugou. Destiny dredged up the desires of her latent thoughts. Her cheek pressed against his chest. She took a deep breath, inhaling his musty scent and absorbing the warmth of his stiffening body.

He violently twitched like a current of electricity shocked him. "O-Oi!"

Did she rest her head for too long? She swore to herself that she only meant to stabilize. Straightening up, she sighed. "S-Sorry," she uttered a sole apology with no further context. That's not the way she had planned to apologize, but she felt that the opportunity had been lost after the sudden context of bumping into him yet again.

"Sorry for the inconvenience, but we'll be taking a slight detour due to a train wreck on the scheduled path. Thank you for your patience," announced the conductor.

She exhaled heated breath. Talk about a train wreck. This evening would last forever.

Closer to campus, that evening, Midoriya needed a breath of fresh air. He swore by the rays of the setting sun he had not been able to relax for the past 24 hours. Training had proved to be too difficult, too. After all, you can not even run a mile without stopping to breath. Maybe a brisk walk across town before curfew would be a more efficient workout.

Everyone in class claimed to dislike dramatic conflict, but Midoriya sincerely had a phobia of confrontation. He had not been able to look his close friend Uraraka in the eye all day - not for the reason she may have suspected. Rather, he sensed her misery along with the distress of Bakugou and figured he shouldn't get involved. Midoriya knew that Bakugou liked her, and he would probably want to resolve their issues without the input of everyone.

For some reason, he suddenly caught a whiff of rain despite the fact that no cloud hung in the sky. His classmate with long, dark teal hair idly sat on a bench alone several dozen meters away from campus. She gazed at a small stream and how it reflected the warm pinks, purples, and oranges of the sky.

"Tsu," he breathed before repeating, "Tsu!" His voice kind of creaked, for he had not spoken above a few decibels all that day.

Asui slowly turned her head around to look back at Midoriya before straightening her back and looking ahead. She wished she had not done that. How did he find her there of all places?

A cheery smile popped onto his face as he approached her. He continued despite the fact that she didn't respond, "I feel like I haven't seen you all day." When she stayed silent and still and stoic, his grin began to waver. Was everything okay? "Is something the matter?" He could never tell.

She shook her head yet kept her eyes staring at the myriad of colors surrounding the sun. "Ribbit," said Tsu. Maybe she would have fled, but out of the corner of her eye she could read the clear distress of Midoriya across his sweaty brow and trembling smile.

The green haired hero ruffled his mop of hair and took a seat next to his friend classmate, Asui. He asked, "Can I vent to you about something?" When she stiffly nodded and ribbited, he began. "Well, sorry if I'm bothering you, but I guess the stuff between Kacchan and Uraraka is still bothering me. Today was especially intense. Did you see what happened?" Pausing he, stretched his arms to signify the magnitude of the conflict. "I can't talk to Iida about it because he's already thinking about going to the teachers, and then, Todoroki doesn't have much to say at all about the situation. He's pretty sure Bakugou's different from his dad, though. Then, of course, I can't talk to Uraraka, so I'm so glad I found you!" After a few moments of silence, he caught his breath again.

Asui pressed a finger to her chin. "You should calm down, Midoriya," she advised. While partially, she wondered why she happened to be at the bottom of the chain of friends, she wished he had never gotten to her. Against her better judgment, she glanced at his nervous smile - sweat jumping from his face as he expressively explained his perspective.

"I knew you'd be a good person to talk to, but I couldn't find you after class," he clarified.

So then, he would have come to her first. Truth be told, Asui had attempted to avoid him for the past few days. She had been spending too much time with her, and by the seconds, her feelings for him grew. Watching the vivid colors of emotion shine through his face caught her eye more than the brilliant sunset before them. His voice sped her heart as she heard him slow his speech and relax.

Asui did not appreciate this turmoil. She very much valued her talents of stoicism.

"They both seemed upset, but I don't think it's something as simple as Kacchan going too far. Uraraka can handle herself, and Kacchan's a hero at heart, so he wouldn't go too far. I want to encourage him to go after her. I just hope it works out. She's a nice girl, and I think they'll be happy together," he ranted once more. The voluble Midoriya always had the proper insight of others. "When Uraraka sees his heart, there's no way she'd turn him down."

Asui was not too sure. While she could read surfacing emotions of people's body language, she hardly contemplated abstract concepts like love. That was - until now where life had thrust her into a tide of infatuation or something of the sort with her green haired classmate. She pulled her hair back and smiled, "You have a lot of faith in Bakugou."

He scratched his temple and sheepishly nodded, "Y-Yeah. Who wouldn't like a girl like Uraraka?" Midoriya didn't mean that most guys would appreciate her like Bakugou appreciated her but that she was simply a pleasant person to be around.

The froggy girl could not utter the question, "But, do you like Ochako?" She felt like she was pretty clear about that before, but even her blunt skills could not propel her to interrogate him to that caliber.

Midoriya yawned and stretched his arms to his sides and failed to catch Asui cringe and shrink her shoulders to avoid grazing his muscular biceps. He felt relief. "I feel a lot better. Do you want to go to a shop or something? I kinda feel like I owe you for listening to me," he offered and rubbed the back of his head.

Leaping to her feet, Asui shook her head and said, "I think I should go back to the dorms." Staying there would not be a good idea. Her temperature slowly raised. Uraraka liked him!

He clasped his sweaty hands together and swayed from side to side once he stood up as well. "Really? You're not hungry or anything?" inquired Midoriya. He had not expected her to flee so soon. There were still other issues he wanted to bring up.

She was hungry.

"We can get something to eat. What do you want?"

"You," Asui sharply answered. Immediately, she regretted such an answer. How could she be so blunt? By the heel of her foot, she tried to hop away.

Midoriya, the boy gifted with superhuman strength and speed firmly grasped her wrist. He could feel her pulse jump like his. Maybe that was too bold and forceful of him. He enjoyed the simplicity that she provided to his overcomplicated day, so his gut reacted before he did. Quickly, he released her. "A-Ah! O-Okay. Yeah. What? You want me? Um, does that - no. I - what? You're not saying that, right? Tsu?! Are you sick?"

She had already frozen in place. Her skin reddened against her light green t-shirt. Why did she have to say that? Cursing her filterless mouth, she prematurely mourned her friendship with Midoriya and Uraraka. "Ribbit," Asui groaned. She'd have to tell her as her friend. Her hand touched the side of her head, and she tried to keep walking.

Yet he did it again! The easily flustered Midoriya grabbed her wrist again and pleaded, "I want you to stay. Please. D-Don't leave if you unless you want. Let's go somewhere," he paused before he breathed and continued, "I want to stay with you a little longer."

Surely, he got ahead of himself. A girl like the intriguing and enigmatic Asui Tsuyu would not be interested in him in that way.

Kotone knew something was off about the solemn heartbeats of her mentors. Slow and mellow, they lacked energetic perk and irritation, respectively.

They arrived late, so she had already finished her homework by the time they showed up at her door. Bakugou took as much time as he could to check her work while Uraraka twiddle her thumbs on the bed. Unfortunately for her, her phone had died on the way there.

Kotone wanted to watch a movie. "How about a romance?" suggested the girl before covertly smirking.

"No way in hell!"

"I'm thinkin' I'm gonna pass."

That proposal got their hearts racing.

Uraraka did not care for gorey movies while Bakugou just liked anything with action. Since their young student already pitched the idea of a romantic movie for her favorite pairing, she thought she'd recommend the next best thing to bring two people together. Horror.

"How about a scary movie?" she chirped.

Bakugou barked, "It better not be shit!"

Rolling her eyes, Uraraka thought, "He's such a brat." Since the train ride, he had remained silent and feigned ignorance of her presence. Naturally, she did not completely object. She knew he required an apology, and the process would probably be more elaborate than one word.

The anti-gravity girl knew he deserved an adequate deed. However, she could not quite plumb how deeply she may have hurt him, for as far as she understood, she had only marred his superficial pride by publicly shoving him over a misunderstanding.

Amidst the negotiations over their potential movie pick, Bakugou sat on the edge of the bed before yawning and lying down. "Wait, go back to the last one with the werewolf and the witch," he commanded. "Let's watch that one." He liked werewolves.

Uraraka scooted back across the bed to the wall like Bakugou was made of lava. Why did he suddenly get on the same bed as her? "Bakugou," she whined. In order to get off of the bed, she would need climb over him in some way.

He wasn't moving. Yawning again, he ignored her.

"Okay!" Kotone agreed from the bean bag. Sweat glistened upon her temple. "I call the bean bag." She turned off the lights and started the movie as if she were completely ignorant to the intense percussion of hearts behind her.

Was Kotone not going to help? Was Bakugou not going to answer? Would Uraraka have to stay stuck there until the end of the movie?

Uraraka suggested, "I'm gonna turn on this lamp. It's kinda too dark." She got on her knees and crawled to the lamp near the foot of the bed. Out of the corner of her eye, she noticed that Bakugou failed to stir. Once she switched on the dim light, she noticed his hooded stare had fixed blankly ahead.

He lowered his head so that his wild hair hid his eyes. Lying in a slight curl, Uraraka stared a bit more unashamedly. He was still guarded, and he had never looked more human.

Apparently, the stillness of the room that amplified the intensity of the slow-paced movie meant something. Within minutes, Kotone had fallen asleep.

What was Uraraka supposed to do now? She wanted to ask Bakugou to move so that she could sit on the floor. The movie did not carry its weight, and after 20 minutes in, the werewolf was still human and blood had not been shed.

Right, Bakugou! They shared a bed at that moment, and she could feel him shift his body weight when he turned to lie on his back. Was he going to say something? She needed to speak first!

"Sorry for earlier," she apologized and bowed her head. Silence. Understandably, she'd probably have to do more to earn his forgiveness for not only ridiculing him but calling him a villain and assuming the worse out of him. However, Uraraka expected him to at least mock her.

Instead, she heard a light snore.

Perking her head up, she finally understood - he, too had fallen asleep.

Maybe this circumstance had turned in her favor. She leaned her back against the wall and took a few deep breaths as she gripped her own wrist while trying to concentrate on the mediocre film. The cheap effects underwhelmed her.

Suddenly, she heard a low, growl.

Was that Bakugou? He must have been saying something. Slowly, she crept on her hands and knees down the bed to where he rested his head. Not a single wrinkle disturbed his brow, and every muscle in his face had relaxed and released any slight grimace or scowl or smirk. Instead, he slept like a placid angel.

His blonde hair never looked so luminescent in the dim light. His growl never sounded so soothing, but what did he say?

"Rrr," he repeated. The sound struggled to escape his parted lips.

Uraraka strictly controlled her breathing so that she masked her presence, but somehow Bakugou latched onto her wrist.

She jumped and covered her mouth with her free hand. No, what would he say? There was no way she could talk herself out of this one. "Bakugou, I," she began, but then the young girl noticed that his growling continued while his eyes stayed shut.

"Ochako."

Her heart leaped from her chest. He used her first name again, but without the typical berating tone that typically accompanied it.

"Don't. Go."

Chapter Text

"At your best, you are love. You're a positive, motivating force within my life. Should you ever feel the need to wonder why, let me know."

"Don't. Go."

Bakugou's strong hand clutched her arm like she was his last resort. Uraraka could hear each breath he took in between her own until they became in sync. What did this mean?

Many questions bounced through he mind into the thickening air between them. She could have freed herself but instead realized the narrowing of their distance from each other. Magnetic.

Since when did Bakugou have such comely features? His quivering brow inspired endless fluttering from her stomach to her heart. Such serene slumber could draw tears from her eyes.

She sharply breathed.

Following the middle line of his body, she noticed how his buttoned shirt revealed his muscular and chiseled midriff. Did that appeal to her? She had never considered the appearance of Bakugou. While she did not consider anyone ugly, she did only considered the physical appeal of someone once she had grown fond of them.

Though his hand around her wrist caused her heart to speed and palms to sweat, she immediately realized that the fearless sentiment that rapidly consumed her. Instead of panic, his strong arm secured her safety by such a simple gesture as hand holding.

She leaned closer. Was this what it meant to find something irresistible? A guilty pleasure.

No, not pleasure. If she moved, then he'd wake up. He would never let her live this down.

Her head remained mere inches above his pillow as she pondered and contemplated how someone could change their appearance once they slept. Bakugou was handsome. Gravity pulled the girl more than it had ever burdened her before. And she wanted to give in.

Her elbow that supported her began to buckle.

Tears of confusion dropped before she did. Inevitably, she her head fell to the pillow.

Bakugou's eyes shot open. They widened before he understood the reality of the situation.

Closing her eyes, she apologized, "Sorry, sorry, sorry. I'm sorry for pushing you. And calling you a villain and being weird. Sorry."

Silence.

She anticipated his wrath - strident outbursts, huffing, or a scoff - yet his grip became no tighter than it had before. Slowly, she opened her eyes and expected a hot glare.

His inherently intense, scarlet eyes peered back at her. The gaze alone left heat on her pink cheeks until a burst of warmth developed in her chest. Not a twitch in his brow or a clenched muscle in his jaw, he blankly stared into her like he had seen the entirety of his life and future in her large, brown eyes. Awe written in bold letters across his face, his lips never closed from his slumbering state.

Her breathing slowed and calmed and settled as he held her with his eyes. Only for split seconds did he break their mutual gaze to blink. By the second, she melted into the pillow and the earth below them.

A quick sigh of relief escaped her lips, for she felt a strange familiarity with the man she lied next to. A resonating tune that transcended dreams. Surely, she must have attributed too much of that to this person.

Tears stayed suspended at the corners of her eyes and threatened to leak and long for a person like that mythical Bakugou.

Was he still sleep? Why didn't he say anything?

A sneeze came from the opposite side of the room. Then a yawn. Kotone. She brushed her dark bangs from her eyes and looked up at the TV. "Is the movie over? You guys gotta come back. This doesn't count." she asked as she stretched her arms.

Suddenly the room paused as Kotone's brightening cerulean eyes glanced up and around the room.

"Why is Bakugou on the ceiling?" she innocently asked as she placed a finger at the lobe ear.

Truthfully, Kotone had been awake for a while. No one could have slept through the deafening heartbeats of those two.

Bakugou crossed his arms with his back against the cement ceiling. He groaned, "Yeah, Uraraka, why am I up here?" Dry and free of rage, his red eyes loomed above her like blazing, red stars.

And she could not stop herself from staring into them.

Finally, Uraraka escaped from the bed and stood on the floor nearby. "My hand slipped. I guess I was starting to fall asleep," she lied. She frowned to stifle her smile, "I'll get you down." With a short exhale, she choked on laughter when Bakugou fell face first onto the bed.

Kotone begged, "Please stay a little bit longer."

They both knew they needed to leave. Though between them was an undeniable sense of complacency and security, a paradoxical danger of the unknown loomed above them. Why did they lie down together? How did they find forgiveness after a day full of conflict in silence?

Uraraka gulped. She knew that she needed to mask the events of the day and the mutable feelings that brewed in her core with an innocent friendship of felicity. After all she was Uravity the buoyant hero. She could befriend anyone.

On the other hand, Bakugou sank into his mattress. He dwelled on the intensity of his pure and unadulterated joy. "Anything to keep her," he thought.

On the way home, Uraraka wanted to ask - was he awake or asleep when he pleaded for her to stay? She thought the former circumstance to be impossible, but then why did he dream of her. From the train, she noticed his lethargic hesitation to cross the automatic doors.

"Oi, fucker," she chirped.

Bakugou jumped in place. He forced his rigid legs forward to chide, "What the hell are you saying?!" He did not know whether to fall for her all over again or curse himself for smudging her dialect. "Don't say that!"

She smirked, "That's Bakuology 101. Bakugou always says somethin' to cuss words." That woke him up.

Approaching her, he sprawled his fingers and placed a hand on her face to cover every round feature of hers. He took a deep breath as the train doors closed behind him. Those doe eyes shined their spotlight on him, and for the first time that day, he felt confident that he could make sense. "Yeah, okay. Fine."

He smirked at her. A true and smug smirk as opposed to her amused, sly grin.

That meant he accepted her apology, right? His palm pressed against her lips when she mumbled, "What are you doing? Why are you covering my face?" Uraraka knew not to dwell on his passing remark, but internally, she rejoiced. Could he see the energy that blazed from her soul?

"Because it pisses me off."

So then, that was it? Uraraka hoped she had gotten her wish that they had gone back to normal. That's all she knew that she wanted from him. Seeing the humanity in his intimidating, red eyes inspired a floaty glee inside her as she stood on the tips of her toes. "Move your hand," she whined.

That side of him. Maybe she wanted to see that glareless stare. Maybe she wanted to hear the tenderness in his voice. Maybe she wanted to feel his touch. That perfectly balanced temperature - maybe she wanted more of that.

They talked about how crappy the movie was for nearly half the trip before they realized that they had no reason to stand so close to each other on an empty train car.

For some insane reason, they stood inches away from each other like they had nowhere else to go. Perhaps this happened because of their earlier, routine commute.

Uraraka pointed it out. "Oh, I guess we can sit down," she noted as she backed away from the pole. Typically, she would have been bold enough to threaten to sit next to him. Now, she anticipated his pursuit.

The train rumbled and she lost her footing.

Bakugou caught her by the wrist once again and glared down at her. "What do you think you're doing?" he growled.

The girl blinked, "What do you mean?" Escaping!

Ditsy girl. "You're better than that."

Surely, he did not mean the fact that she ran. Or her bumbling balance.

When he pulled her up, their chests met - reminiscent of their passionate kiss. She touched her hot face before separating from him. He always had to shift the tides of the atmosphere - flaming the waters in his favor.

Bakugou merely quirked an eyebrow as he attempted to read the foreign language of her features. Frowning, blushing, fidgeting fear. All these social cues would have been easier for him to understand if he only looked at people more. "What are you going to do?" He asked. He was willing to learn.

"Sit down. I'm feeling kind of dizzy."

Was she sick? "You've been eating, right? Or are you on your - your?" What was that thing that girls like his mother experienced every once in a while?

"Stop!" she pleaded as she plopped down. Why did he always have to ruin everything?

Bakugou could not decide which side to sit on - hers or his own. So, instead, he chose to stand in the middle.

That made Uraraka stir, for she anticipated a decision the entire time. Biting her lip, she admitted, "I had fun today."

After all that shit? The fighting, the silence, the tears, the drama? "I didn't!" he declared. Though, any day with her was a good day - day he would not trade for anything.

But the night bore more gifts for the two - ribbons of destiny that would wrap them together.

...

Night of routine: gym, dorm dinner, pajamas, sleep. Then a reprieve from monotony. Uraraka could not sleep.

She tossed and turned until she nearly fell from her bed. That pure, ruby stare had stained her mind. As she crept into the commons, she figured moving around would aid her, but that decision only led her back to him.

"What are you doing?"

Uraraka didn't need to turn around to know that he stood behind her. Bakugou. Once again. "I can't sleep," she admitted.

He pivoted himself over the back of the couch and landed on the cushion to her right. "Because of that stupid movie?"

Stiffly, she nodded and kept her eyes on the floor.

"You're such a shitty liar."

She jumped. No way he saw through that. Glancing over at him, she stuttered, "W-what?"

"You said it didn't bother you earlier. Now you can't even sleep."

Fortunately, she could breathe a sigh of relief. Her shoulders leaned back into the couch. "Leave me alone," requested Uraraka. Maybe she was a little tired and definitely hungry. The stirring and ponderous nausea in her gut left little room for food at dinner time, so she only ate a small salad. Yet now, she felt audible growls erupt.

Without giving her shit, he stood up and trailed away.

Uraraka got to her feet and followed after him for a few paces before she asked, "Wait, where are you going?" She didn't mean for him to actually leave.

"I don't like being irresponsible by skipping meals. Unlike you." Well, he wouldn't be Bakugou Katsuki if he didn't criticize her a little bit. Maybe the night subdued his hostility, or maybe she looked damn cute in those bland, black pajamas of hers.

Uraraka did not know whether or not following him into the dark abyss of the kitchen would lead to her demise. However, she could not resist the pull of his strong, muscular back against his dark undershirt. As she stared at the way his large arms paced along with him, her head grew lighter, so she caught up to him and walked next to him to avoid the strange sensation. "Hey, that was complicated!" she finally replied.

He spat, "Keep your voice down."

If he were so damn intimidating, then why did she walk by his side?

Pleased, he covered his mouth. He'd rather die than allow her to catch the slightest twitch of his lips. But finally - if only for a moment, she was equal in pace and spirit to him.

The distance satisfied him as well. Though his free hand dangled at his side, he could deal with the absence of her palm.

She turned on the light to the kitchen,and Bakugou scoured the cabinets. Crackers, rotten lemons, stale bread, and crap like flour. Heroes loved their snacks - especially meat apparently. "Who ate my damn chex mix? I bet it was Kaminari. I'll kill him."

"Bakugou?" called Uraraka.

He jumped. Though, he hadn't forgotten she was there. That sweet, melodic voice graced his ears. "What?" he asked. Truly, he could listen to her all day.

"Are there any cookies or something? I had a little food earlier."

He silently continued to search. Flour. Butter. Sugar. Once he realized everything came together, he grinned.

Uraraka furrowed her eyebrows and placed a hand on his back. Immediately, he tightened, and she noticed his muscles tense beneath her palm. "It's okay. I can just drink some water."

He leaned over the counter to break their contact and groaned as he shoved his fingers through his hair. "If you want the damn cookies," he growled through his teeth, "then we're making some damn cookies."

Sweat slid down her temple and backed away. "O-okay."

Maybe they hadn't gone back to normal. She stared at her hand that had grazed the tension in his back.

Bakugou had opened himself up to try new things. He could not admit to Uraraka of all people that he'd never baked cookies. Of all his talents, surely he could accomplish it. Grabbing the measuring cups, he let out a quick, disgruntled sigh. Those were necessary, right?

"I'm not really a good chef because I never have all the ingredients I need, but I like sweets so I learned how to cook those at least. Plus, they're pretty cheap to make," explained Uraraka as she grabbed other ingredients like baking soda and vanilla extract. "Let's keep it easy and just do some sugar cookies."

She didn't want to embarrass herself either. Surely, he would judge her harshly or make a remark on how even Deku needed better wife material because that's how she felt. Asui could cook for her entire family. She sighed.

"Sugar? Don't all cookies have sugar in them?" Bakugou asked. Dammit. He shouldn't have. Late at night, perhaps, his guard had dropped.

"Oh, I know it by heart," Uraraka proudly smiled over her shoulder. "Could you pass me the eggs? 3 of them." Going into the pantry, she grabbed a frilly, pink apron by the mere force of habit.

Bakugou muttered under his breath about how he didn't like to take orders before he inevitably grabbed 3 of the 6 eggs from the fridge. When he turned around, he saw her. Cute and pink and frilly with a cloth of an apron that accentuated her oh-so-feminine bust and hips.

Boom. Crack.

The three eggs busted in his explosive hands. Running them to the sink, he cursed, "What? Don't tell me you're scared of getting a little food on you! What are you doing wearing that?!" His hot face steamed the water that he splashed onto his face before he went back to the fridge to try again.

Three eggs. He took a deep breath. He could handle that.

"Hey, you don't gotta be rude," complained Uraraka. Why did it anger him so much? "Just pass me some eggs. Do you need me to hold them?"

Instead of handing them to her like most boys would have with their crush, he pitched them like ping pong balls.

With her agility, she scrambled to catch each of them. "Bakugou!" she whined. "Cut it out!"

That's a hero for you.

Bakugou smirked, "Shut up! You got that stupid towel on you. What does it fucking matter?" A haughty snicker in his throat, he grinned.

Dashing for the sink, she grabbed the hose and aimed it at him. "I swear Imma shoot ya," she promised with a light giggle. What a jerk.

...

Midoriya lost track of time when he went out with Asui. He hadn't broken curfew since moving there. How could he be the number one hero if he missed curfew?

When they approached the corner near the kitchen, Asui pulled him back to hide. What were Bakugou and Uraraka doing at that hour? She couldn't let her friend see her return with Midoriya at that hour!

"Why are you hiding?"

Bakugou violently whipped a bowl of butter and sugar while Uraraka poured flour into a measuring cup. His elbow bumped her arm, and he barked, "Klutz!" Before laughing at her blunder.

She laughed, too.

Midoriya was not sure what that meant, but they looked like they were having fun. Although his old friend had moments where his body grew stiff, his sunken shoulders and relaxed smirk indicated a rare aura of happiness between the two.

Asui hoped that the scene meant that her relationship with Bakugou had improved. She wanted a clear and guilt-free pathway to build something with Midoriya. She could hardly say that she liked him, and he was too dense to understand simple implications.

"Tsu," he called.

She put her finger to his lips and blinked at him. Asui whispered, "Ribbit."

What did that even mean? Midoriya internally groaned until he realized the contact. His eyes widened and he straightened his back against the wall. "T-Tsu," he moaned.

Asui stared into his eyes for a few moments until the touching became too much for her to handle. Her racing heart and sweaty hands threatened to break her calm facade, so she released him.

She insisted on hiding.

No way! Did Asui like Bakugou? His heart sank until he decided to ask, "Do you like Bakugou?" He knew not to get his hopes up, but he wondered how that would affect their time together. Also, he probably vented too much about the blonde's developing relationship with Uraraka.

Before Midoriya could spiral down a whirlpool of doubt, Asui stopped him. "I like you," she admitted clearly and all at once.

She needed to drive the wedge, but she wondered if their friendship would collapse because of her tactless declaration.

Midoriya twitched and whimpered and panted in response. His red face complemented his dark, green hair. "Gah? L-Like a friend, right?" he assumed! He couldn't allow himself to jump to conclusions.

Twisting the metaphorical knife, she sighed, "More than a friend, ribbit." How many times would she have to confess before he understood?

His heart hopped from his chest as his panting quickened. "Hah? What? Asui, you couldn't be saying that," he cried. Literal tears dripped from his eyes. A girl - not any girl but cute Tsuyu - confessed to him like it was nothing. This had to be a dream. "Tsu, am I dead?"

Tsuyu sighed and rolled her eyes. He was making too much noise. She rolled her eyes, and pushed him back towards the exit. His answer hardly mattered. No matter what, they could not be together until Uraraka gave them her blessing. That's what having a friend meant in this love triangle situation. So, her trembling mouth did not fret rejection.

"Let's go," she suggested.

"W-Where? Oh, right, I have to answer." What would his answer be? The confession disoriented him. The only reason he had not thought of her as more than a friend was that he thought someone like him could only have girls as friends. What was love? Was it what Bakugou and Uraraka had?

Asui frowned, "No, you don't."

...

Cookies placed and baking in the oven, Bakugou sat on the counter while he watched Uraraka clean up the dishes.

"I wanna lick the spoon," announced Uraraka.

"And get salmonella? Don't be stupid."

Grabbing the spoon, she taunted as she waved it in front of her face, "I'm washin' the dishes, so I get to lick the spoon. That's how it works."

Bakugou snarled, "Shut up." His eyelids sunk as he watched her pink tongue caress the convex side of the black, silicone spoon. He pressed his tongue against his teeth.

"Yummy," she mumbled with her protruding tongue. Though the sweet dough satisfied her curiosity, stroking her tongue against the utensil in front of Bakugou had a new, lurid connotation. Uraraka frowned, "Dontcha think we should talk about the kiss?"

Bakugou nearly fell from the counter. Just in time, he jumped down and regained his footing on the floor. "What?" exclaimed the young hero with a tomato painted face.

How could she bring it up so easily?

Crossing her arm over her chest, she hugged herself and sighed, "I'm not mad anymore, and I know it was an accident. I just can't stop thinkin' 'bout it."

She only wanted to dispel the tension in the room. Why did licking a spoon in front of him have to feel conducive to his attention? Or, rather, seductive.

Bakugou silently cursed her audacity and bold demeanor. He marched across the kitchen to the sink. "I'm your first kiss, right?" asked the blond. That curiosity had been weighing him down ever since. He furrowed his eyebrows and averted his eyes when he asked.

Oh, why did he have to be such a weirdo? Slowly, she nodded, "Y-yeah."

With a thumb pointed to his chest, he declared, "And I haven't swapped spit with anybody else neither."

Uraraka looked at the tile floor as she leaned back against the sink. "So what are you sayin'?" asked the trembling girl. She held the spoon up to part their faces.

He slipped his tongue across his lips and stroked it against the concave side of the spoon. "It means something is there that can't be undone, alright? So get over yourself."

His crimson eyes melted her. As he leaned closer towards her, he stared her down to nothing. Every inch of her body heated under his leer and the pulsing of her heart rattled her to the core and beneath the rim of her short pajama shorts.

Ding.

Uraraka gasped and whacked Bakugou's nose with the spoon. "Cookies are ready!"

"Mother fucker. What was that for?!"

Opening the oven door, she hardly felt the wave of heat that pushed against her face. "What did he mean when he said 'don't go?'" she silently wondered. Without thinking about the safety of the situation, she reached for the cookie sheet with an exposed hand.

"Uraraka!" shouted Bakugou before he snatched her from behind by the waist. "Your hands are your future. What the fuck are you doing? You could have burned yourself, you idiot."

She panted. What did he mean when he said don't go?!

The anti-gravity hero didn't realize what happened until Bakugou pulled her back and released her. She touched her face before fleeing to the corner.

"What is your problem?" He complained as he dressed a hand with an oven mitt and retrieved the cookies.

"Sorry," she quickly apologized. Her hand dropped down to rub her abdomen where he had grabbed.

Bakugou scoffed, "Don't go losing your shit again." She scared him with her carelessness.

Neither of them said another word before they went back to the couch in the commons to eat. Bakugou had loaded the goods onto a bright red plate while Uraraka poured herself a glass of milk.

Bakugou figured she would have left by then. Cold sweat coated his palms as he held the plate of cookies. He felt like he would burst beyond a point of return.

Uraraka bravely or foolishly stuck around. She wouldn't have been able to sleep with the unanswered mysteries that heavily weighed on her heart.

The silence bothered neither of them. They could spend an entire train commute without even a word, but the strange current that rushed through Bakugou's thighs when Uraraka reached for a cookie from the plate startled both of them.

Naive as she was, the brown haired girl thought she could talk over the screaming tension. "These cookies are amazing! We make a good team," she hummed and chewed as her cheeks filled with joy. "I didn't know you liked cookies, too. Tough guys like you always complain about sweets."

Bakugou ground his teeth and dug his elbow into the arm of the couch as he shoved several cookies into his mouth. He grumbled, "Are you saying I'm not tough?!"

She sighed in return. Of course not, but there was no point in counteracting that. "Um," she stammered. "I'm glad that we can talk like normal. Maybe we can find fun stuff to do together on nights like this. Do you like board games?" she suggested. Tipping her glass, she drank cold milk.

Then part of her eager and alert chocolate eyes yearned to catch a glimpse of that enticing and phenomenal gentleness in Bakugou's face again. The perilous curiosity kept her glued to the cushion of the pillow.

Their eyes met.

There it was. The look of warmth that drained her breath and spiked the temperature of the room.

She gulped.

Bakugou could not resist her gravitational pull. The atmosphere between them anchored him to her. That kiss had to mean the world or nothing at all, and that night he set out to find her answer.

The ceramic plate dropped to the floor without shattering. Bakugou pounced Uraraka by pinning her down and across the couch.

Her glass of milk floated above them.

"Kiss me," she thought but did not say. And she cursed herself for allowing such a wish to cross her mind - denial of the strongest kind. A surreal serenity replaced the fear she knew she should have had as she slowly exhaled.

Somehow, he must have heard her. Perhaps his novice dexterity led to a slight hesitation, for all he knew was that he wanted her. Tasting the supple skin of her hot neck, he stroked his tongue up to the plump lobe of her ear.

Why was she so god damn sweet?

Her sharp, short moan sang from her lips. He never knew he waited his life for such a tune.

Pleading, she reminded him, "I love Deku."

"Yeah, I got that," he grunted into her skin.

Was she foolish enough to end up in this situation? Was crazy enough to go this far? Even if he calculated every step that led to this, she felt like she had reached her goal in a maze rather than wandered into his trap.

"You don't even like me." Was she more upset that she kissed someone that didn't like her? Or about Deku? The lines had blurred, and she could not clearly see. "You're just trying to take me from him."

He hungrily pressed his lips against the trail that his tongue had left until he got to her collarbone before he somehow halted to answer, "Last time I checked, he never had you. And he never will." A snide chuckle erupted from his chest as he continued through hot breaths to place kisses down her shoulders.

Just like he needed.

He deliberately and relentlessly continued kissing her as she softly moaned. Between the tangled signals and mixed up legs, he could only hope that her audible pleasure meant something deeper and mutual and fucking special.

His teeth graze but did not bite - he could control himself to that extent. Though, when he glanced up at her plump, moist lips, he understood the irresistible allure of her.

Uraraka pressed her hand to his chest. A place of interest and curiously dragged it down his body to feel the muscular rises and ridges. Tightening her thighs, she squirmed and gazed into his ruby eyes to send a clear message of desire.

So Bakugou gave into his temptation and hovered his lips above hers. Her short breaths cut across his skin.

She closed in the distance. She grabbed onto his back! This was all her, and he could not be happier. Inquisitively, she pressed her tongue past her teeth and his before meeting the flavor of him.

The tip of his tongue tenderly stroked hers.

Sweet. Warm. Hot. Soft. A deep craving she had had all day long. A need they may have had their entire lives only to indulge in that night.

Uraraka moaned and caressed his hot cheeks all the way up to his messy, blond hair. The massive and euphoric sensation dazzled her from the friction of them to the pressure between her thighs to the magnetic contact of their lips.

How could he make her so happy?

Sharply, he snapped awake to the hot tears that fell from her eyes against his cheeks. "What? You want me to stop?" he asked as he respectfully pulled away. "You were enjoying this a second ago." God knows he was.

"No, I wasn't," she protested in a shaky whimper.

"Fucking fine. Fuck off if you want to," he shooed as he sat up on the couch. How the hell did he get ahead of himself? If she never talked to him again, he'd understand. It didn't matter what he thought he saw, he obviously wasn't thinking straight.

"No, I wasn't," repeated Uraraka in a sob.

Bakugou slowly turned back to face her. Just who exactly was she trying to convince? "I don't give a shit what you say now. I stopped, okay?"

Uraraka just wanted a pleasant night of hot cookies and cold milk to forget about the humanity in Bakugou. But he always had to dig up the most heinous parts of her. She sat up and scooted to the opposite side of the couch. "Bakugou," she whispered.

"Hah?" he asked as he lifted an eyebrow. Why was she still there? Why had she stayed by his side for nearly the entire day?

"I just want to forget and continue being your friend. I thought because of earlier - you were different, but you still want to claim me."

Bakugou thought to protest, but he would say anything to keep her from leaving. He couldn't let go. "Fuck being friends," he declared. At least, not just friends. Under his breath and looking away, he said, "We're going to get married."

"Why did you do that just now?"

"I-If you want to forget, then you gotta stop asking questions. Let's change the topic," he convulsed and trembled as heat and sweat coated his skin.

If it were something as simple as he wanted to hurt her or get back at Deku, he would have claimed so and proudly. But, he was right, she needed to drop it. Rubbing her neck, she wondered why she didn't stop him. Why her body tingled like diamonds in the sky to that very second.

Why her shortened breath still pulsed from her chest like it did.

Why she closed in the distance.

Is this something she could forget? Thinking about Deku helped her. "We don't gotta be friends, but let's just go back to normal." The only way to get accustomed to him would be to be near him. "And don't try anything funny again. Promise?" To tame him.

Normal? He'd be fine with anything. "Hah? Funny? I don't joke."

Uraraka's special talent aside from resisting gravity was breaking the tension. "How do you make a hot dog stand up?" she asked before pausing even though she knew he wouldn't respond. "You steal its chair."

"Pft!" coughed Bakugou as he hid his mouth.

He liked that? "You laughed!" Uraraka cheerfully exclaimed. She needed to build a tolerance to his tumultuous personality or else she'd never be able to think straight around him or resist him.

"No, I coughed. There's a difference!" Bakugou protested. Looking at the girl, she didn't seem hurt at all. Her eyes filled with the moonlight from the window, and her cheeks radiated her healthy pink. The mood, her energy, seemed happier than before, in fact. Was she really that strong and resilient? Or did none of that affect her? Maybe he simply wanted to believe that she enjoyed their second kiss.

Uraraka glanced down at the cookies. "We made such a mess," she yawned. In more ways than one. Looking up, she gazed at the floating glass of milk and reached up to catch it and pull it back down to Earth.

He glanced over at her reach for the ceiling. Uraraka's arms stretched to the air as she hopped in place to grab the milk and return it to the coffee table in front of them. When she sat back down, she landed closer to him. He realized the warmth that he had longed for in those short moments apart.

She yawned again.

"Don't tell me you're going to fall asleep," he smirked.

Uraraka shooed the thought as she reclined back onto the couch and sighed, "No, I'm fine. I'm just going to close my eyes for a second."

Her ample chest heaved into a slower rhythm than before, but Bakugou did not find that arousing. Rather, he found it undeniably and incredibly beautiful. And as her eyes gradually closed, he took the opportunity to admire her. A tickling snore emerged from her pink lips.

When she slid to rest her head on his shoulder, he bit his lip and clutched his arm to prevent kinetic reaction or the slightest sound from escaping his throat.

Bakugou could study every inch of her face, shoulders, neck, arms, and he savored every bit.

Her pure skin. Part of him regretted tainting her. Was his body heat enough to warm her? Hesitantly, he put an arm around her. If anyone disrupted this moment, he'd kill them.

Someone sneezed. And it wasn't him, and it wasn't her.

So then, that someone would die.

Chapter Text

"Who is that?" Bakugou asked under his breath without turning around to see. He would not want his Uraraka to wake from her sleep. She had already adjusted and snuggled her head against his chest. Her small hand clutched his shirt as she uttered a low, soft moan.

He could have died - this sensation of having and holding her sent him straight to another plane of ecstasy which may have been what subdued his urge to kill. Did his thumping heart sound too loudly against her ear? His entire body stilled and stiffened to balance her serenity and keep them in that moment.

After much ado, he let out a short, controlled exhalation. Dammit. Why did he have to care who came into the commons? Why couldn't he just unashamedly be with her? Yet, Bakugou was reticent with revealing his deep, buried delight along with the untainted small smile on his face.

The person audibly gulped.

Uraraka squirmed more. Her arm slid down to Bakugou's lap. “Who's that?” she mumbled - still not cognizant enough to detect her incriminating position. She could only understand her undeniable comfort.

Bakugou leaped in his seat at the sudden intimate contact. His eyes shot wide open as he turned around to see the bright red hair of his friend, Kirishima.

Sitting up, Uraraka covered her face when she realized their position. How did she end up sleeping on Bakugou? And if somebody saw - she saw their visitor too. “It's not what it looks like!” Of course, her permanent blush grew to cover her entire face. She shut her eyes and covered her face.

“What?” exclaimed Kirishima. He didn't mean to interrupt. “I just walked in.” As he approached, he was not sure what to make of their position. With the milk on the table and the cookies on the floor, they looked to be having some kind of sleepover.

Moreover, was Uraraka okay? By the cozy, hugged in shoulders, he could conclude that she was at least comfortable.

Quickly, Bakugou retracted his arm from around Uraraka. He had forgotten that he placed it there! Calmly, he assured her, “You hear that? He just got here. You've got nothing to hide anyway.” Of course he did not forget to feign irritation.

She stumbled when she stood and yawned. Uraraka waved, “We were just studying. Do you want some cookies, Kirishima?”

Bakugou pressed his palm to his forehead. What an idiot. They had no books! “Uraraka,” muttered Bakugou. “Just fuck off and go to your room. It's late.”

Too tired to fight back, she could hardly hold her heavy head up to look at them. She stuck her tongue out at Bakugou before politely waving to Kirishima with a smile. “Goodnight.”

Her suitor watched her prance away with pleasure in his core. What a beautiful night with the best woman in his life. Bakugou smirked briefly before dropping to a frown once she left the floor. “What did you see?” asked Bakugou with a noticeably agitated growl. His eyes stayed fixated on the last place he saw Uraraka.

Kirishima shifted in place as he hugged his arms to his body. He had just wanted to use the restroom. However, perhaps seeing this helpless, adolescent side of Bakugou's personality absolved his friend of the guilt he'd placed on him earlier that day. Maybe he was just a desperate kid wanting attention from the object of his affection rather than the malicious monster that everyone painted him to be. He inquired, “Out of everything or just today?”

Bakugou darted at the red haired boy to grip him by the shirt. He snarled with his red wide eyes strobing, “Everything? What do you mean everything? “

“I saw you kiss her,” solemnly admitted Kirishima as he dropped his stare to the ground. He furrowed his eyebrows as he recalled the mid air kiss.

“Just now?” Bakugou asked to confirm as he tried to recount all that he did since and before that point. So much time drained to the heat and passion of the moment.

“You did it again? I was talking about when you guys were sparring!” exclaimed Kirishima in disbelief. How did he miss that? He figured he wouldn't want to interrupt a potentially romantic moment.

Both boys blushed and pulled away from each other.

Bakugou cursed, “Fuck!” He foolishly outted himself without understanding all that Kirishima knew. “Forget what you saw! Forget what I said! Forget everything, dammit.” For someone who displayed his affection in the commons, public awareness of that said affection flustered him.

How could Kirishima forget that kiss? He had only seen people kiss on TV! Kirishima ruffled his bright red hair and scowled, “Dude, I don't know. Did you do it on purpose? Don't you think you're going too far?”

Another stupid opinion that he didn't need to hear. “It was an accident,” he said with no inflection in his voice.

Kirishima wanted to ask about that night. Did he kiss her when she slept or something? That wouldn't be right. But, he somehow became too shy to continue his interrogation. All he could do was trust his friend and believe in the anguish in his flustered disposition.

Bakugou ground his teeth and gripped his arm as he stared at the ground. He had no experience with such conflicting feelings in the realm of romance. He just wanted her.

For her sake, people were better off not knowing, so the best thing he could do for her was deflect any curiosity about their interest even if that cost him. “I have millions of reason to marry her, but none of that matters if I make her miserable. So keep your mouth shut and tell everyone else to shut up, too. It's no one's fucking business. I'm not going to hurt her.”

Kirishima held up his hands. “Okay, okay,” he chuckled. “I believe you. But, you still don't love her, do you?”

Bullseye - he loved her more than anything, but she wouldn't want to know that. She wouldn't want anyone to know of the sensation in their kiss.

“Of course not.”

...

Kirishima valued his friendship with Midoriya as well. He had been so eager to see this novel side of Bakugou’s interest in a girl that he had neglected to take his other friend’s sentiments on the matter.

Unfortunately, his faith in Bakugou’s purity and innocence had wavered once he disclosed that at the center of all his motives and actions - the explosive hero was still a big, black hole.

For the brief time that Kirishima caught Uraraka together on the couch with him, he witnessed a strange level of intimacy that surpassed anything he had ever seen. Cuddling on the couch is something he had never even seen his parents do, and it wasn't something he could do with his old friend Ashido.

A crimson flush flamed his face as he staggered back.

Why did he think of cuddling Ashido?

That's how he knew something was strange between those two. Someone felt something for someone!

That Sunday morning when he woke up, he felt the burden of guilt for neglecting to stop the landslide of one sided romance. He at least needed to talk to Midoriya, so he went to his door first thing.

Yawning, Midoriya delayed answering the door to calm himself down. He, too had had a long night and broke curfew with his friend for the first time. “Sorry!” exclaimed the hero upon opening the door. He expected an authority figure to be there to reprimand him, so to see Kirishima standing before him was a pleasant surprise.

Kirishima tilted his head. “You okay, man?”

“Yeah, what’s the matter?” asked Midoriya.

“Uh,” Kirishima stammered as he glanced around the hallway. “How about we talk inside?” He needed to be cautious about spreading rumors, for he knew he had already allowed this wildfire to erupt. When Midoriya invited him inside, he stayed standing and still near the closed door. Scratching the back of his head, he wanted to cut to the chase.

Midoriya had no idea why Kirishima would want to visit him so early. “Is everything okay?” he again yawned after noticing the sweat on his brow.

Sure, everyone was safe, but he apologized, “Sorry, I wanted to ask you - do you like Uraraka?”

The green haired boy froze. This again? Maybe he could easily piece together the implications of affirming that question after Tsu’s confession from last night, so he decided to choose his words carefully. However, Asui’s face flooded his thoughts and left him speechless.

Kirishima feared that Midoriya’s frown and shrunken shoulders meant that he had feelings for Uraraka. There was his answer, so he changed the subject - slightly. “She and Bakugou have been getting real close, you know. I’m sorry I didn’t stop it,” he apologized again as he bit his lip. However, he could not possibly bring himself to reveal what he saw the night before and the kiss.

Did they like each other? Midoriya sighed, “Oh. Well, Bakugou is probably a better fit for her.” He figured that they liked each other, and he wouldn’t want to take something like that from him again like building a connection with All Might. The pain in Bakugou’s face still caused him to grimace and stir to that day.

Kirishima squirmed where he stood. He cut to the chase and blurted, “I don't think he likes her. I thought he did, but maybe he doesn't. He said he didn't, and she might-” He stopped himself. If Midoriya got any confirmation that Uraraka may have liked Bakugou, then he wouldn't listen to what he wanted being the nice hero that Midoriya was. Kirishima rubbed his head. This love triangle stuff was way too advanced for him. Shoujo manga never appealed to him.

Besides, he must have just been seeing things that night because she definitely always liked Midoriya. Ashido said that much was obvious.

While Midoriya braced himself for the confirmation that Bakugou and Uraraka shared mutual affection, he interrupted, “I know!” By the widened red eyes of Kirishima, he adjusted his volume. “I know.” He knew they liked each other and something about hearing it caused his heart to finally rest. This was good news, and he could redirect his infatuation towards Asui. His heart melted at the idea and caused him to blush.

Kirishima saw the blush and figured Midoriya knew that Uraraka liked him. He let out a chuckle of relief, “Haha, yeah, okay! You should probably talk to her about it, right?” That way Midoriya and Uraraka could get together and Bakugou could leave her alone.

Talk to her? He supposed he could give them his encouragement. “Yeah, I could do that,” Midoriya agreed.

“Alright, cool I'll see you later I guess.”

What a misunderstanding, but both boys walked away from the conversation with a deep sensation of relief.

...

Before Midoriya could text her to Meetup. She texted him! There it was. Before he could even eat breakfast and get fully dressed he had already started the next step of a relationship. At least, he thought everything would become more lucid and simpler for his future. She mentioned that she was outside his door at that very moment.

She stood outside his room in her pink pajamas with dark circles under her eyes. She could hardly look him in the eyes studying her glanced at the carpet below them. Midoriya lost his sense of relief suddenly. Something about her holding her arm tightly reminded him of a tense situation in battle. Her weary eyes concerned him as well. Truth be told, after realizing Asui’s feelings, he had similar turmoil in his heart, but that's had dissipated against the intense euphoria and promise of a fruitful relationship by her side. The thoughts kept him awake throughout the night.

He understood that it could go was a lot more complex. The enigmatic and capricious nature of his childhood friend could make anyone weary after a day. But, surely her euphoria outweighed whatever turmoil she had felt that morning.

Naturally, since Midoriya did not understand the full scope of the situation, he was unable to read the absolute shame that left her feeling empty. She thought that the cusp of her relationship with Midoriya had promise before last night.

Uraraka lifted her heavy head and wiped the corner of her eyes to implore, “Can I come inside?”

Another visitor, Midoriya silently noted before opening his door. His inchoate consciousness had only a few moments to develop after his last guest. “Is something wrong?” he asked before clasping his hands together. However, true concern remained absent from his question, for he could assume why she visited him - for disclosing her crush on Bakugou. He trailed back to his coffee table.

Before they had the opportunity to take a seat, Uraraka exclaimed, “I love you.”

“What?!” yelled Midoriya before covering his mouth. Eyes wide open, he couldn't turn back to even look at her. He didn't expect that!

She stared down at her feet and gripped the end of her shirt. Her lip quivered as hot tears threatened to spill from her eyes. Nothing in her body remained still. The heart that had been lithe and free hours before relentlessly pounded against her chest and weakened her with every strike. Her heart ached as memories of Bakugou flooded her mind and finally drew hot tears from her eyes.

Suddenly, the guilt of betrayal with Bakugou shifted to remorse over her current confession to Midoriya. No, she didn't regret it, but she wished that she didn't think of Bakugou in that moment.

Midoriya could not push a single word from his dry throat before he fell back to sit on his bed and rub his head.

If anything would come from this, she needed to grant transparency to the entire situation. So then, she revealed with a labored breath and clear voice, “And I kissed Bakugou. On accident.”

“Oh,” he replied with a slight perk and energy of relief. A smile curved onto his face. Midoriya did not have the audacity to ask if she enjoyed the kiss, but the additional confession certainly lifted a weight from his shoulders.

Uraraka had more to say, and so she added, “Then I kissed him again. I mean - he kissed. No, we kissed. Again.” She could not lay complete blame on him, nor could she deny her explicit consent to the heated moment. However, she could and would gloss over the raw passion and desire she held for him in every moment.

The tears that continued to cascade down her face carried the guilt of her confession to Midoriya rather than the kiss. As much as she wanted to disclaim her penchant for last night, she would not drag Bakugou's name through the ground and build her future with Midoriya on deceit.

Midoriya could finally smile at Uraraka with unabashed glee. His eyes nearly closed as he grinned, “That's awesome.”

Uraraka pulled her head up to witness the sincerity in his support. An ominous force striked her through her chest as her tightened lips dropped into an abject frown. Narrowing her eyes, she asked, “Awesome?” Was she too late in her confession, or did her honesty depreciate her appeal as a girlfriend?

Everyone assured her that a romantic relationship lingered on the horizon of their future, but now this. Upon her reflex, she stiffened to assure him that the kiss was behind them. She wanted to plea, but the smile on Midoriya's face silenced her. She retracted.

Then, Midoriya made a mistake.

“I think you and Bakugou work really well together, so I'm happy for you two,” he said which was what he planned to say if she disclosed her feelings for Bakugou to him. However, the timing could not have been worse. Without realizing it, he had completely neglected to respond to her love confession.

Uraraka finally lifted her head up and held up a peace sign. Her eyes stayed dry when she smiled, “I don't know what you're talkin’ ‘bout, but I love all my friends at UA. I love my school. I love my city. I love the world. That's why I wanted to be a hero.”

Oh, right. Love! For Midoriya, that word struck a cord, rang a bell, and finally jogged his memory to recall what Uraraka said when she came there. He had not even completely processed it. Instinctually, he apologized, “Uraraka, I'm sorry.” He didn't know what to say after that.

“Don't be. I'm fine. You're one of my best friends, Midoriya,” she said before turning around. “I wouldn't trade you for the world.” Uraraka knew the high pitched desperation in her voice betrayed the composure she had hoped to maintain, but as pathetic as she felt gravity buckle her shaking knees, she paced to the door and fled before she pleaded for him to reciprocate.

Opting to take the quiet stairway lit by dull, white fluorescent lights, Uraraka figured that she'd get a brief reprieve from the perilous, open hallways or the clustered, intimate elevator that would threaten to expose her weakness. Perhaps, she confessed too soon, or maybe, her added confession of her night with Bakugou damaged her chances.

Stopping at the foot of the 2nd flight of stairs, she softly sobbed into her hands. Why did a promise of a fruitful, enriching friendship with an amazing man hurt her? Step by step, she climbed up the stairs. Only two more flights until her floor. With every movement she put forth more effort.

Somehow, at the steady and slow speed that she traveled, she slammed into a rock hard wall mere steps before her floor. Coated by thin, black fabric, her fingers traced up the moist and musty surface before she opened her tearful eyes to that familiar, ruby glare. “Ah,” she gasped chilled air into her open mouth.

There he was - the man that marked her and set her heart ablaze. Terror filled her widened eyes, for she had finally discovered that in that grim hour, she wanted to see him. Her beating heart calmed and melted as she exhaled.

Tears halted and dried.

Bakugou froze. He hated to see her cry. “Break me one more time, why don't you?” He thought to himself before he even understood the back story. His fists tightened along with his grimace as he scoffed and scowled heated breath. “What the fuck happened?”

Suddenly, Uraraka darted back down the stairs to the base of the 4th flight. Bakugou chased after her without a second thought.

Of course he could catch up. His feet didn't touch a single step as he nearly leaped to the platform at the base in pursuit of his beloved classmate. Slamming his feet to the ground where he landed he hit the wall to block her from escaping. His wild, deadly stare followed her movement.

She ducked under his arm and ran down another flight to another platform and Bakugou stayed in hot pursuit.

His palm slapped against the cold wall behind her and he took her wrist and held it above her head. “Uraraka, stop fucking with me,” he threatened in a low, gravelly voice. Narrowing his eyes, he searched her brown eyes for the tears he knew loomed.

Bakugou released her arm and watched it limply drop to her side. He panted. While he wanted to avoid cornering her and restraining her and capturing her like a villain, he didn't know what else to do. If he didn't know why she cried, he couldn't figure out who to kill.

To fall forward into Bakugou would be like falling into fresh, clean sheets after a long day. Uraraka could have escaped and ran. His grip had left no discomfort. When she finally peered up at his furrowed brow and tight frown, she caught the clear, desperation in his dilated eyes. Such a desperation drew murmured pleas from her lips when she said, “Bakugou.” She pressed her forehead against his collarbone and gripped his thin, muscle shirt.

Bakugou hovered his hands above Uraraka's shoulders. What could he do? While he had a desire for her with the passion in his core, he craved to embrace her petite frame. The latter urge happened to be novel, and thus, he hesitated as he lowered his face to hers. “Just say it,” he whispered. “Spit it out.” With a slight tilt of his head, he could have silenced her with a kiss.

But a kiss wouldn't fix her anguish.

“I,” she murmured through a broken tune, “told Midoriya everything. How I love him and how I kissed you again and again.” Her voice weakened into a high, soft whimper with every word. She trembled along with her voice as her crystal tears bubbled at the corners of her brown eyes and she met eyes with him.

A single tear dropped to the floor.

Without another thought, Bakugou's hands came crashing down onto her shoulders and slid down the curvature of her back for a tight and secure embrace. How dare he allow himself to treat her like she was fragile? She was hurt but not broken. He held her closely to the point that they could feel each other's hearts. They could feel the shared shattering and the heavy thumping against their chest. They connected.

For some reason, through her sobs, Uraraka called his name once more, “Bakugou, I'm sorry. I'm sorry.” She apologized again and again. She felt like she wandered too far from him. Why did she feel such a leash of binding loyalty to him? Why did her heart break beneath the defiant betrayal that she didn't truly commit? Her breathing became shallow as her tears burst from her eyes.

Bakugou's hands trembled and clutched the fabric of her shirt. He pulled her closer.

She raised her head to touch the tip of her nose to his before tilting her head to the side like it was her second nature to do so. Parting her lips, she exhaled before nearing his lips. The fountain of comfort lied within him. Though she wept, she dared to test the depths of assuaging contact between their lips like they had last night.

Would just he quench her thirst? She wanted Midoriya, and Bakugou was only Bakugou. He grit his teeth and lowered his hands to her waist before sweeping her over his shoulder before he could yield to the temptation of a kiss. Immediately, he ran up the stairs without taking a break.

Snapping out or her despondent disposition, she exclaimed in a clear voice free of pain yet full of confusion, “Bakugou! Where are ya taking me?”

“You think I'm going to let other people see you cry? I'm taking you to your room!” he shouted as he dashed up to the girl’s side of the dormitory on the fourth floor.

Uraraka fell speechless. At that point, her tears had stopped once again. In fact, small chuckle built in her throat before a smile erupted to her face. Bakugou was funny. Why did he care if people saw her cry? “It’s okay, Bakugou. I’m fine now. I just need rest.”

Was she? His hand grazed his chest as he sighed, “I can still hear something weird in you voice, and it’s pissing me off, so just unlock your door.” Her voice was a pitch higher than normal. Bakugou grimaced as he thought of the green-haired dork two floors below.

Maybe killing him wouldn’t solve anything, but Bakugou could not wrap his brain around why him or anyone would reject Uraraka.

Uraraka dug in her shorts’ pocket for her keys as she dangled over Bakugou and hastily fiddled with the knob. If anything, she would be embarrassed if anyone saw them in such a position. “Okay, it’s unlocked now,” she noted before Bakugou barged through the archway and made his way to her bed. “Can you put me dow- AH!”

Bakugou not-so-gently flung Uraraka down to the bed. He bent over her like weeping willow to examine the tears he swore were there - but they weren’t. Instead, he round eyes peered up at him with her heaving chest and parted lips. He covered his heating face and frowned, “You don’t have to tell me what happened. Just go back to sleep or something.”

She combed through her messy hair with her fingers.  “But, Bakugou, I'm fine. Really, you don't got nothing to worry about,” she protested as she adjusted her leg by sliding her foot back and raising her knee. Then, she smiled.

Bakugou cornered her against the bed by crawling atop the springy mattress and bracing himself above her. He cast a shadow over her as gravity pulled his body towards hers. “Fuck, Uraraka. Stay here,” he commanded as he bit down on his lip to stifle the tears of distress that pooled over his red eyes.

She looked up at him like he was the moon during a complete eclipse of the sun - enthralled and protected by the harsh rays of light that hid behind him. Timidly, she drew her hand out and reached up to touch his flushed cheeks. “Bakugou?” she asked.

A comfort washed over her as she exhaled tension from her body. Something about looking up at him soothed her. She knew that someone heard her and listened and saw and so, she touched him.

Bakugou saw the vulnerability of her beautifully sprawled body. The arch of her back and the angle of her smooth, creamy legs enticed him like none other. And, he knew that if he dipped towards her face, their lips would meet without resistance.

In fact, she raised her head to near his lips.

Furrowing his brow, he felt his tears of frustration nearly spill. He didn't want to pluck her at her weakest like an unripened fruit. And moreover, he wanted her to shine that big, bright glare up at him rather than a soft, faint smile. Inhaling through his nose, he resisted her pull and stood to turn away from her. “I'm leaving,” he announced.

Uraraka knew she would have kissed him. “Did you not want to kiss me? You've already stolen so much from me. I don't know why I gave you any of it! You jerk!” she scolded. “Why did it have to be you? You said you don't even care about me.” Why was she saying any of that? Why did she have to take out her frustration on him?

It wasn't his fault. She had been just as responsible.

With a smirk, Bakugou slightly turned back to her to let her know. He would rather her yell than beg for his attention. “You're mine. And, you're right about one thing, round face. I'm one helluva jerk.” He tinkered with the brink of combustion in his fists.  

...

Midoriya just wanted a normal day. Before his clock struck noon, he had already had two visitors and no breakfast or extra sleep like he needed and he needed something. As he paced around his room, he knew he lacked skill with interpersonal relationships. Analyzing heroes was a lot different than analyzing relationships. He held his face.

Relationships.

Just yesterday he had two female friends, and by that morning, he found himself at the center of a love triangle - or whatever it was. He had a choice to make. Uraraka and Asui both confessed something important to him. And he had an unconscious inclination for one over the other that he hated to admit.

In fact, he hated to admit his interest in Asui if that meant hurting Uraraka.

A firm, persistent knock came to his door. Who could it be this time? It didn't stop. “Coming,” Midoriya answered as he stumbled over himself to reach the knob.

As soon as the lock clicked, the door flung open and Midoriya fell back to land on his bottom. Peering up at the blazing red eyes, he felt dread cascade down his face and neck.

Shutting the door behind him, Bakugou stood near the entrance of Midoriya's dorm with tight fists and flared nostrils. “Did she confess to you?” he asked in a rough, low growl.

Midoriya knew exactly who “she” was. “Yeah,” he replied. He did not fear Bakugou when he got to his feet. However, he added with a smile, for he thought Bakugou would be pleased to know, “But I rejected her.” The person his old friend harbored feelings for was Uraraka, right?

“You piece of shit,” cursed Bakugou in an uproar. “You rejected her? Why? Because I kissed her?” He said kissed so bitterly. A few seconds of silence passed and even that was too long. “Answer me!”

Midoriya could not find the words, but he blurted, “No, no, you said you wanted to marry her, so I was just stepping aside.” He smiled and waved his hands in defense.

"Oh, so you were pitying me like you usually do. You're going to let the best girl at our school slip by to take pity on me. You're lucky she even talks to you. I don't need your fucking pity because unlike you, I want to get her fair and square because I'm willing to fight for her,” he declared and on queue, hot tears surfaced from his turmoil. Bakugou wiped his face. He was sick of sitting around doing nothing.

Midoriya lost his sheepish smile and plaintively frowned as he hugged his arm to his side. “Fight?” he repeated. Was that the nuance of love? Did that shade of belligerent drive separate their sentiment for the anti-gravity girl? As Midoriya kneeled to get to his feet, he understood the chasm that distinguished their motivation. “I don't think I love her the way you do.”

He meant to mumble this to himself, but Bakugou understood every syllable.

Reaching for the fabric of Midoriya’s pajama shirt, his hands halted after he realized once more that he couldn't force him to feel something for someone. His fingers balled into a fist as he scoffed, “Fuck.” Ruffling his hair, he let out a heavy sigh.

His time. His hands. He. Would be more productive with her. So then, without another word, he left after slamming the door behind him. He ran up the stairs and to the door where his beloved princess rested.

Or. At least. Where she should have.

Despite his desperate knocks and demands of access, he received only silence.

That girl. Where did she run off to?

Chapter Text

With each drop of rain that hit against Bakugou's window, his heart pulsed and sped. The sun had dipped below the horizon and left him alone in his dark room to wonder if Uraraka had ever returned. He would feel intrusive to knock on her door another time - a third time that day, but his gut told him that time wastefully drained as he sulked.

“I lo-,” he began, stopping before finishing the short, single syllable word. The muscles of his mouth stretched to enunciate a mock confession. Her face remained clearly in his mind, so he might as well have been talking to the real girl. “Uraraka.”

Bakugou snatched a pillow from beside him and held it to his chest. “Fuck,” he cursed as his heart dropped and burned. She had to know that someone - Bakugou - thought of her as more than a vessel for divine offspring. Maybe knowing that wouldn't revitalize her perky spirit, but at least, she wouldn't get to wrong idea and assume that their association wasn't anything less than an earth-moving, sky-shattering, once-in-a-lifetime affair. The world turned and moved for them once their lips had met, and he had felt her quake beneath him.

Licking his teeth, he couldn't help but hunger for her for the second time that day. Of course, his desire for her surpassed mere physical lust.

His phone vibrated and shined white, bright light into his bedroom. Earlier, he had thrown it somewhere to resist checking and texting all day. He could spot it like a fog light from across his room and fell to his knees from his bed to crawl and reach it.

Opening his eyes to adjust his vision, he saw that Kotone had finally responded, “I haven't heard from her all day.” Upon clicking on the text from the homescreen, Bakugou anxiously read the rest. “She was supposed to hang out with me. I hope she's okay.”

Without a second thought, Bakugou snatched the closest pair of jeans and stuffed his wallet and phone into his pockets before darting and stumbling out the door.

Where the fuck could she be? If Kotone said they had plans to meet up, then what did that mean? Bakugou could be cautious, and he never knew himself to become paranoid. However, as he paced around the hall to the Uraraka's room, he could feel his imagination dive into the depths of despair.

Blood? Bruised? He gulped and images of the worst case scenarios flashed between each knock he unleashed on her dorm room door. Panting, he felt the drops of cold sweat cascade down his brow like rain as tears built in his eyes. She wouldn't just run away - she wasn't a coward. What if someone kidnapped her?

He couldn't even save himself - of course he wouldn't try to save her alone, and he could accept that; however, the desperation tore into him like red hot daggers.

Mina showed up after hearing the commotion from her room down the hall. “Has Uraraka come back yet? We were supposed to go to the mall earlier,” she yawned and crossed her arms across her cheetah print pajamas. She had not heard of any of the confessions that occurred over the past 24 hours, and Uraraka had hardly updated her on any news with Bakugou. As far as she knew, they'd just beat around the bush for a few years.

Bakugou turned his back to her to hide whatever kind of foreign emotion screamed in his weak, drooping eyes. He scratched the back of his head and asked in a low mutter, “Where is Kirishima?”

Surely no one could detect the urgency in such a monotone inquiry.

However, Mina was a social butterfly who paid more attention to changes in people's disposition than the average person. Bakugou never turned away from others unless he had something shameful to hide or something prideful to protect. Well, shameful according to his strict cool code. It probably had to do with Uraraka. “She talks about you a lot - Ochako, but she's kinda stubborn and always runs from difficult situations that get in the way of her goals. Sounds familiar, doesn't it?” she asked these questions in an abruptly boisterous tone as she leaned against her bedroom door.

Bakugou could have relaxed back into the tantalizing comfort of Uraraka potentially feeling the same as he, but that wasn’t what he needed. He just needed to see her face - her pink cheeks and bulbous, mahogany hair. “Ochako,” he repeated like a monotone zombie.

He should've kissed her again.

“Is everything okay, Bakugou? Where’s Ochako?”

Bursting from the boy's side of the floor, Kirishima dashed to the two as he pulled on his dark red jacket. As he dug through his pockets, he walked past Mina and muttered, “Hey, I got the tickets so l-...” Then, he collided with Bakugou’s back. Upon catching Bakugou’s glare from over the blond’s shoulder, he jumped. “Hey, Bakugou.”

“We’re going.”

“To the movies? I only got tickets for me and Mina,” replied Kirishima as he pointed back at Mina with his thumb. Although they were just going as friends, he would have truly preferred to take her instead of Bakugou. Bakugou was never any fun at the theater. He complained during the movies over realism in fighting.

Ashido placed a hand on Kirishima’s back as she furrowed her eyebrows. “Go with him to find Ochako. Bakugou is worried,” explained Mina. Since she lived closest to her, she was better off staying back until Uraraka returned.

As soon as the boys trailed off down the stairs, Mina turned the knob on her door and pushed through. Glancing up towards the ceiling, she spotted a mass of blankets rotating in mid-air. “He's gone,” she mentioned.

“Thanks,” echoed a whimper.
...

On the evening train to the other side of town, Kirishima nervously sweat under the persistent and repetitive leer of Bakugou who sat across from him. At first, his attention was interesting but after a while the even tempered hero stirred in the tense, awkward air. Would not be a good time to ask why Bakugou's foot twitched or why his voice strained with the few syllables he had uttered? He had never witnessed contained tension in his friend.

“I'm pretty sure she's alright,” Kirishima grinned.

“Then why hasn't she answered me?” noted Bakugou as he clenched his sweaty fist.

Staying on the brightside for everyone's sake, the red haired student replied with a casual shrug, “Maybe she forgot her phone.”

Bakugou barked, “Mind your business and shut up.”

For a second, that was enough to silence Kirishima. He shifted in his seat and looked out to the racing scenery of the mountainous, autumn outdoors. The train slowly approached the next stop. Bakugou looked over to Kirishima again. The setting sun shined a streak of a glare across his eyes. Widened, weakened, weary red eyes met the hardened hero’s curiosity.

This was where Uraraka must have sat. That's why Bakugou kept looking over at him. He realized this once he noticed that weird, soft expression across his furrowed brow.

Steadily staring back, Kirishima realized aloud, “You're in love with Uraraka!” He said this as the train screeched to a stop. Without stopping for a response, he stood up and excitedly repeated, “You're in love with her! That's why you kissed her and stayed with her and looked at her and that's why we're going to find her.”

Too weak to fight but too prideful to accept this fate, Bakugou responded once again, “Mind your mouth and shut your business.” Wait, that wasn't what he said before! “I mean!” Bakugou's face steamed and reddened as he covered its every feature with his left hand.

His frustration progressed to the “Grunting Stage” as his friends called it. At a certain point, Bakugou would stop using words and start to just grunt. Next would be the “Explosive Stage” if he wasn't careful.

For only a second, Kirishima sympathetically smiled back at the blonde before a flash of green entered his mind. Midoriya. Kirishima stood up. Gritting his sharp teeth, he muttered as he bowed his head. “Bakugou, I told Midoriya to talk to Uraraka about his feelings. Maybe he's out with her,” he explained before trembling guilt swept through his body. “Why didn't you tell me the truth?” He wouldn't have encouraged Midoriya if he had known of Bakugou's feelings.

Bakugou growled, “It wouldn't matter anyway. Uraraka can do and should do what she wants - even if that means running to Deku.” The fact that her lover would linger in limbo unrequited struck pain in his chest. She was probably hurting as well. Ruffling his hair, he said, “Listen, I just need to find her, alright? She's acting fucking stupid, and I just need to find her.” Someone like her doesn't just run away out of the blue. He brought his friend to assure that he could retrieve her safe and sound. That's what his stupid lessons taught him.

Kirishima heard every crack in the troubled boy’s shaking rant and saw every twitch in his frown and every sparkle in his watering eyes. “Okay, okay, don't worry, dude,” he sighed despite tension remaining within him. He had never seen Bakugou like this before. Sitting down, he checked his phone for any word from Mina. Nothing.

In a quick text message, he typed, “I guess you were right.”

Ten more minutes, and he'd get some answers. Until then, he'd have to take one moment at a time. The rain clouds followed them as the rain beat against the window behind him. “She's afraid of storms,” he noted.

Kirishima's ears perked up to listen.

“She smells like girly flower soap. I don't like sweet smells but I like her scent even after she works out for an hour,” he said in a low mumble before turning to Kirishima. “She hits hard and runs fast. Her guts rival mine, and her tongue is sharp when it needs to be. I've never wanted to look someone as much as I want to look at her. I can't get enough.” Glaring over at his peer, he continued, “Going after her was one of the best damn decisions of my life. I want her to be my wife, my girlfriend, and my partner because I l-”

The train stopped at their destination and Bakugou toppled over before he could finish his confession.

“What were you gonna say?” asked Kirishima as he got up from his seat in the most nonchalant way he could.

“Nothing!” yelled Bakugou from the floor.

...

Kotone answered the door like she expected Bakugou in her weekend black t-shirt and pink pajamas pants. Uravity inspired her daily outfits. The iconic hero in training had an inspirational grace in her fighting style. That night she missed her.

Pushing past the door, Bakugou hunched his shoulders and tilted his head up to scan to his dark surroundings like the fighter he was. He only saw a brown entryway table with an ivy plant on the top along with a few family photos. So then, there was no threat - yet, but Bakugou refused to let his guard down as he stomped around the white, tile floor towards the dining room.

If they could see Kotone’s eyes, they’d be able to spot the futility in her hooded gaze. She slumped over and groaned, “Bakugou, what are you doing here? I’m sure she’s fine. You need to calm down before you hurt yourself!” Unyielding, brash and ferocious - his heart rocked against his ribcage in a way that caused a literal, throbbing headache for the young girl.

Kirishima tucked his hands into his pockets and bent down to whisper to Kotone, “He thinks your parents might’ve kidnapped her. Maybe he’ll feel better if he looks around.”

“Kidnapped?” she gasped before placing three of her fingers over her mouth. “She’s-...ah.”

Just then, a clinking of ceramic plates erupted from around the corner. Kirishima and Kotone rushed to the scene to see Bakugou crouched on the long dining table decorated with an immaculate white table cloth and red, ornate dishes filled with cornish hen and an assortment of colorful vegetables.

Peering to the head of the table, he guffawed like a desperate man at the end of his rope, “I saw that camera you had in Kotone’s bedroom.” Raising the palm of his hand to be inches from the elder man with glasses and a white buttoned down shirt. “Where is she?”

In his mind, there was no way she wasn't okay. Something in his gut told him that the girl he loved endured arduous conflict as he spoke.

The man of the household stood up and adjusted his glasses before he said, “I'll call the police if you don't leave this instant. You'll get the failing grade that you deserve. I've kept an eye on you two and my daughter because I know you and that hick trash are still little teenage brats taking advantage of lack of supervision to fondle each other in bed.”

“Dear,” begged the mother with long, blood red hair and thick, rounded glasses. She cautiously stood and backed away from the table.

“What'd you call her?” Bakugou demanded clarification, for he had put his pride aside to defend Uraraka. Because no one slandered her name like that. Gripping his wrist to stifle his roaring quirk, he grit his teeth until he knew the absolute best opportunity to strike. Tears streamed from his eyes as he leered down at the seemingly meek man. However, he began to feel sluggish as he stared at the man’s palm.

“You two can't seem to keep your hands off of each other. You've got a good eye to want to reproduce with her. On top of her wildly compatible and moldable quirk, she has the maddening, child-bearing hips that are good in a mother.”

Kotone pleaded from a distance as she stood an arms length behind Kirishima, “Father.”

The blonde's arms felt too heavy to lift at that point. He knelt to the table.

“I don't judge you for your intentions of a quirk marriage. I've had six wives and produced over ten children. Some of them are already in school to become the most renowned physicians in the world,” explained the doctor as he folded his free arm across his chest.

Bakugou slowly turned his head to Kotone as he tried to figure out what had transpired. Someone had turned the temperature to an unbearably frigid level or so he thought. “Why is Kotone here?”

“She's about to go to an elite Science and technology boarding school once she graduates from elementary,” answered the man.

None of this mattered. All of this ranting mumbo jumbo failed to captivate him, for he could only feel the sickening hole in his gut that Uraraka was not okay. She wouldn't just leave like that just because of Deku’s rejection. Uraraka didn't run away that easily - especially not when he was there. “Uraraka is more than her fucking quirk. She's a god damn goddess on earth, and the only woman I want in this shithole planet is her. If you say her name one more time, I'll blow your head off,” Bakugou guaranteed with raw energy piercing from his red eyes. “Now, where is she?”

Kotone pleaded as she heard the rapidly ill heart rate of Bakugou longing for his beloved, “Dad, please!” Tears welled in the corners of her eyes as she clutched her chest through her black, wool sweater. “Uraraka said she had to go home. I'm sorry. I didn't mean to make you worry. She didn't tell me until after I texted you, and she told me not to say anything because she knew you'd follow.”

Kirishima ran to Bakugou's side as he grabbed his friend's arm before pulling back. His arms were covered in sweat. “What's wrong with him?” exclaimed the young man as he turned to the head of the house.

“His temperature,” explained the wife from across the room. “My husband is changing his body temperature. It's his quirk.”

Sweat slid down Kotone’s brow as she glanced over to her father. “Bakugou, it’s raining. I don’t think you should go out,” she warned.

“He'll be fine. Once he leaves my house, his fever will fade, and he'll receive the failing grade that he deserves,” declared the father.

The red haired friend softly smiled before hoisting Bakugou onto his shoulder, “It’s okay. He’s got me. I promised I’d help him get his princess back.”

Bakugou’s face reddened for the sole reasons of his sudden onset sickness, for had not a shred of shame regarding his sentiment over Uraraka. “What train station?” he asked in between panting as he got to his feet. Glancing over at the clock in the corner, he saw that it was already 7 in the evening.

---

Uraraka had purchased her train tickets out of the city. For the first time that day, she turned on her phone and held her breath fully expecting voice messages and text messages from Bakugou. Instead, her eyes met her inbox and only saw a message from Kotone pleading for her to text Bakugou and a message from her mother asking when she’d arrive that night.

She bit her lip as she felt herself tremble and pout. Covering her face with her hand, she sniffed and scolded her fragile dependency on that guy’s attention. In the bed earlier that day, she grovelled for his attention and revealed a desperate side of herself she never knew she had. The way he had glared at her with open eyes and shrunken shoulders -

Absolute loss of respect.

That had to be it. Silently, she sobbed and wept into her pink, zipped up jacket. All that day, she had fled from him to hide her true fragility, for Bakugou had always had esteem in her fortitude and strength. She feared the loss of his respect.

After all, she begged for him to kiss her that day like the foundation of her existence depended on his callous marking.

“He doesn’t love you,” she said to herself under her breath as a reminder that whatever concern or affection she received had to be misconstrued. It was all his animalistic need to mark the territory of his mate.

She stirred by crossing her ankles and shifting in her seat.

Her connecting train was supposed to leave at 7. This had been the longest delay in a while, but for what reason? All she could look forward to was crying in her childhood bed like the little girl she was, so maybe that’s why down at her core she had hoped that Bakugou chased her there.

Again, she scolded herself and crossed her legs tighter before remembering her pitiful state and how she couldn’t let him see her like this.

Her heart fluttered and her tears stopped as she took a deep breath. What was all this anguish about anyway? Rejection?

Midoriya would never abandon her. They’d still be friends. They would continue to eat at the same table and meet up for movie nights with Iida. Deku would never give up on her like she gave up on herself.

Would Bakugou? She had more doubt in him. Even if he saw her as a mere possession, the thought of her confessing to Midoriya probably hurt him.

Just then, she felt a tinge of pain in her chest.

What if all these tears weren’t about Midoriya but about her betrayal to Bakugou?! A wan flush washed color from her face. That wouldn’t make any sense, and yet here she was.

A muffled announcement came over the intercom, and she had only heard the tail of it. The pounding rain against the window by her ear distorted the little that she caught.

What did it say?!

At the edge of her seat, she prepared to jump at the slightest notion of departure. However, she restrained herself before reclining. Maybe this antsy feeling would fade.

Lightning flashed then boomed before she saw him in her racing thoughts. “Bakugou!” she exclaimed - fear and concern nearly pouring from her eyes. Was he alright?

The train played a jingle for departure as the doors began to close.

She sighed. There's no way he would have followed her there.

“U-ra-ra-kaaaaa!” he roared - his gravelly voice cut through the stormy ambience like thunder.

Terror cascaded down Uraraka's spine when she slowly turned her head to meet the glaring, bloodshot eyes of her suitor, Bakugou Katsuki clinging to the side of the train and pressing his cheek against hers through the window. She let out a shrill, muffled shriek. Her heart leapt from her chest just as she leapt from her chair and raced to the closing door without a second thought - messenger bag around her body.

The brown haired girl panted before pushing the red emergency stop button on the side of the automatic sliding doors.

The door opened before she stepped out to the wet platform. She turned towards Bakugou as he staggered towards her. After a reprieve of silence, she shouted through the pouring rain, “Dummy!”

He arrived like a genie as if her will had summoned him, so how could she not run forward to embrace him? She gripped the back of his shirt as a rainy autumn gust rushed around them. With their bodies so close, she could feel his chest heave and spotted the fatigue in his weakened stance as he weakly gripped the sides of her waist.

“Quit running, round face.”

Standing, she tilted her head up to kiss him and he dodged her! Uraraka's eyebrow twitched. “S-sorry,” she apologized. She should have known he wouldn't want to kiss her.

“Don't be stupid,” he chided as he stared towards a pillar. “If I knew I wasn't sick, I'd be ravaging you right now.”

A sob broke through Uraraka's lips as she trembled. Boldly, she pressed his cheeks together and put her lips to his.

She didn't care what he thought or why she needed it in that moment. She just took what she wanted as the tears rolled down her cheeks.

Bakugou felt his mind go blank. His body became rigid before a wave of warmth melted his core. He loved her. He gripped her waist with renewed vitality before a hand pressed down on his shoulder.

“What do you kids think you're doing?” barked a train security guard from behind them.

Chapter Text

In the security office of the train station, Bakugou used the outdated corded phone on the wall as the thunder roared from a window beside him. His fever had faded but a stinging sensation rushed through his cheeks and body. Rubbing the back of his neck, he gazed at the mop of nutmeg-brown-hair. She sat on a bench several meters away, staring up at the flickering fluorescent lighting above her as she kicked her feet like a wistful child.

"Are you listening, Katsuki?! I'm sending the money to you to get a hotel room. Don't blow it on games or whatever you've been wasting your time on over the past couple of weeks," his mother reprimanded.

Bakugou failed to listen: he was too busy staring at Uraraka doing something as mundane as kicking her legs. Why was she still there after the train security guard pulled him aside for disturbing the peace? They had stopped the trains because of power outages all along the route from the storm, so why would she stick around in this concerning situation?

As he scratched the back of his neck, he realized there was nothing but impatient silence over the line. "Did you do it yet?" he urged. "I don't got all day. We need to get out of here."

The scolding resumed. "Hold your damn horses. By the time you get there, you should have the money. It's across the street, right?" Mitsuki asked with a gut feeling that her son's mind had wandered elsewhere. For that night, she could let go of her typical "Be safe, alright? And, text me when you get there."

He hung up without a farewell and marched over to Uraraka. "Get up, we're going!"

"What are you thinkin' we should do? Maybe we can go to a diner until the storm stops, or maybe we can just walk to a bus stop," she gasped at her own idea. "Yeah! A bus stop." Cold sweat gathered on her forehead as she glanced up his stern and steady glare. She tried to think of what to say - maybe a joke - did he forget about the kiss? She hoped he did, for she wasn't sure if she could ever have the courage to repeat that.

However, if fate would have it, her latent urge would guide her to him like it had on that night on the couch. She attempted to hide her fluster behind her hands. Who was that girl that she became behind closed doors and beneath Bakugou Katsuki? He drew such a lurid and voracious side of her from her stubbornly cute facade. Who needed audacity with passion like hers in those moments?

For days, he recalled the sensation of her soft lips against his that night they stayed up and baked together. He could do that any night. The way his heart floated when she came within a few feet of him perplexed him and robbed him of sleep for hours, but now, he noticed a weight had lifted from his shoulders. However, tension remained at every joint in his body.

A single bead of sweat slid down Bakugou's temple. He would have gulped if he had less self-control, but instead, he grabbed Uraraka's arm and pulled her towards the door with him. "We're leaving. Now."

Thunder boomed and rattled the thick windows of the doors. He felt her tremble in the aftermath, but of course, he thought nothing of it at first. Bursting through the exit, he crossed the slick, empty streets. He never was the type to carry an only thing he held was Uraraka's arm.

The pink-cheeked girl had come with just a suitcase the size of a backpack for two days worth of clothes. Her only umbrella probably sat in her train seat without her. Otherwise, she would have come prepared for the storm they faced.

Thin shirts and moderately thick jackets protected them from the blustery chill of autumn, but nothing they had could protect them from the rain. No words - just silent resolution with reaching his destination.

As they walked, Bakugou's height blocked the windy rain from Uraraka's face. While she would have typically become frantically frightened by the roaring thunder, Bakugou's presence whited out the noise to a certain degree. She managed to feel the rumble at her feet, and so, she pressed against his body and shared a lengthy touch.

"Bakugou," Uraraka pleaded, "where are we goin'?" She kept her stare on the ground. Ignoring the fact that to the passerby, they probably appeared to be a couple that had been dating for years, she took a deep breath and focused on moving forward. Unprepared for inclement weather that day, she felt foolish; however, the reality of fleeing and drawing Bakugou out into the storm with her guilted her the most.

Left without an answer, she stared at his firm grip on her right forearm. "You know, if it weren't stormin' outside, I'd just poke you and send you up in the air," she joked with a passive-aggressive chuckle - anything to fill in the barren silence that left room for the chaotic uproar of the skies. Her furrowed brow didn't match her light-hearted words, and neither matched her strained tone as she tried to push words out without a whimper.

As she stared up at the darkening grey-blue clouds, she felt the cold rainwater drip down Bakugou's ash-blonde hair. She did not care where they went, but if he left her side for a single second, she might have shrieked. Such desperation soured her mood further. Anxious hairs would have stood on the back of her neck if water did not weight them down.

Bakugou had twitched as soon as she said the word "poke." Heat captured him once again from the hand that grabbed her all the way to his cheeks. "What kind of girl forgets an umbrella? If storms bother you so much, then just wear a raincoat," Bakugou complained. Her pace quickened as they walked in silence down the block to t he hotel. Tilting his head to avoid looking at her, he awkwardly and rigidly stomped through the automatic doors with his knees slightly bent like the delinquent he was. They tracked puddles behind them without bothering to wipe their feet on the welcoming red mat at the front. The heater could not work fast enough to comfort their shivering, soggy bodies.

Shifting her head around, she noticed the concierge at the dirty, grey front desk and a round bulb that hung above them for dim but not cozy lighting. A red rug led up to the messy-haired young man in a royal blue, polo shirt. Uraraka stuttered out, "B-Bakugou, this is a hotel. What are you doing?"

She heard the soft, jazzy music playing from the speakers above them. No way was she ready for this kind of step. She didn't even like Bakugou, but did they really have no other choice? Nearly whimpering as she looked back to the windowed doors, she gulped. The fear of lightning and storms had consumed her and drove her into Bakugou's arms.

That night, she would have to be sure to keep up her guard in order to protect her innocence. Bakugou may have been a responsible hero, but he wanted her. Projecting a maliciously perverse grin onto Bakugou's scowl, she cringed.

Bakugou had appeared to her like a shark swimming through the seas, and by some stretch of the imagination, she decided to ride off with him. Made vulnerable by rejection, she leaped into the arms of a tormentor like the north and south poles of a magnet. Attempting to deny and subdue the curiosity of her own, she rationalized that staying the night with him was the only way to have a safe night.

As much as he wanted to stay collected, he trembled at the thought of explaining his rationale for leading her there. "Don't get the wrong idea, alright?" mumbled the young, troubled teenager under his breath. Turning to the man behind the desk, he explained as he placed an open hand on his chest, "Me and her need a place to crash for the night, alright? The storm ain't getting better."

Such a brutally blunt request spewed from his diaphragm and rattled the desk like he demanded a night with his long-time lover, but it calmed the young Uraraka. She leaned towards him and away from the darkening windows of the storefront near the entrance. Brushing her bangs back, she allowed her hand to linger above her ear that heard the banging thunder of the outside. "Please," she added.

Bakugou slightly jumped along with his heart at her cooperation. He leaned over the desk and grinned, "You heard her." Slamming his credit card, he then watched as the older man swiped his card and placed it back on the desk.

"Pick a room, and I'll give you a key," answered the man as he combed his bright purple hair to the side and looked back down at his magazine of scantily clad women after pointing to the wall of TVs. Each screen showed a live feed of the hotel room and had a bright, red button beneath it. He failed to give any further interrogation.

That easy? Bakugou was not prepared for such a lack of resistance. He marched towards the wall of TVs and redness engulfed his face once again. Why wasn't every room just the same like in most hotels? And, why were there chains in one room and whips in another? And why the hell did every room only have one bed.

"Bakugou!" exclaimed Uraraka. "T-This is a love hotel, isn't it?!" She had never seen one until moving to the city.

His arm became stiff. "Love hotel?" Bakugou asked to confirm. He had a suspicion that something differed from the average hotel.

For a brief reprieve, Uraraka could take the time to freak out over something aside from her worst fear. She yelled in a hurried whisper, "A love hotel is - it's a place where this and that happen." Gesturing to her left and right side, she knew that her explanation added no clarification.

Her face reddened by the syllable.

Bakugou leaned in to examine the despair in her lustrous brown eyes. His eyebrow twitched as he caught onto what "this and that" must have been. Dragging his hand down his face, he heard his heart thump within his chest, so he took a deep breath to retrieve his composure. The nervous furrow on her brow looked irresistible - he wanted more of that desperation, but moreover, he knew bantering her might make her run away.

They had wandered into not just a hotel - but as he saw the various rooms and furnishing. How did he not catch that? Picking a loud, red and orange room with tiger-like stripes, the image piqued his interest almost immediately. One large, black bed with orange carpet sat in the center. Orange flames patterned the black walls and a shag, red rug covered the majority of the floor. He shouted several meters away back at the front desk. "I want this one!" he declared as he pressed the button.

Without looking up, the man at the front desk tossed keys to Bakugou and went right back to his magazine.

Uraraka said as she bit her bottom lip, "It has no windows, right?"

Frowning at how willing she became, Bakugou nearly sniffed for the moment where he would jerk this moment from beneath his nose. Moreover, he worried that Midoriya's rejection altered her judgment. Bakugou knew he was a dangerous man - especially around her.

"What's going on with you?" he mumbled in a soft voice and stopped moving. "Don't overthink this. We're just getting a place to crash - you don't think I'm that much of an asshole, do you?" Bakugou could promise he would practice restraint.

He feared any slight confirmation in her eyes, so he kept his stare on the ceiling. He could feel every tremble in her body, and it made him hyper-aware of her presence

Uraraka thought she feared the storm before she knew the anticipation that brewed within her. She had always been curious about the secret sides of Bakugou, but she also feared the face he'd reveal in a setting meant for lovers. The type of adrenaline that fueled her during a fight raced through her blood and sped her beating heart. "Let's just go to the room, please," she pleaded with an anxiously high pitch to her voice.

No way. He couldn't believe how she rushed him to their room, tugging him along. Sweat beaded on his forehead and slid down his face like tears. Silent tunnel vision lead him to the elevator. He could hear how in-sync their breathing had become. Every exhalation, every inhalation matched perfectly with hers, and he found that observation incredibly satisfying. Leaning against the dark walls of the elevator, he had difficulty holding his tongue. Many questions rushed through his mind, and he knew they'd burst through the seams.

Bakugou decided that if they engaged in something intimate like that all-nighter they pulled in the commons, he would have to make sure she knew the connotation. He could not let her get away with thinking he saw her as anything less than his fucking soulmate. "Don't rush me!" He blurted amidst the screaming silence.

Running his fingers through his hair, he tensed at the sudden chime of the bell for their fateful floor: 5. He marched with heavy feet and nearly ran to the door before he freed her from his clutch to fumble with the card key for the door.

Was he ready for anything more than a kiss?

"Are you okay, Bakugou?" Uraraka asked in her soft and peachy voice, but she knew he probably had something naughty on his mind.

Bakugou's hair spiked along with his blood pressure. He growled, "I'm fine, dammit! Why wouldn't I be?"

She giggled, and he heard it echo up from her diaphragm: soft and deliberate, like a song. Melting, he pushed the door open to reveal the black color scheme with bright, orange flames decorating the walls.

"Not bad," he admitted as he surveyed the room.

Uraraka continued laughing, "It's a Bakugou room, for sure, but why are we at a love hotel?"

"Stop saying that!" he barked. If he heard the term "love hotel" one more time, he would never be able to rid himself of the erotic mirages that he saw around the room. A young man like Bakugou had dreams, desires, and a drive to rip her clothes off where she stood. And, he could hear the arrogance in her laugh.

Bakugou wanted that dominance that composure provided.

With a smarmy grin, Bakugou tossed his soaking wet jacket to the side and stripped his black shirt that clung to his body without a second thought. Room. Wet clothes. Take them off. He failed to consider the girl in the corner of the room.

Thinking to jump in the bed, she kept her back turned to Bakugou as she heard his clothes splat on the carpet. Tightly closing her eyes, she squealed, "W-What are you gonna do to me, Bakugou?" Hugging her body, she remembered how soaked her shirt had become in the rain, but she had the decency to excuse herself before stripping!

A barrage of booms erupted in Bakugou's hands in rapid succession. "Nothing! Absolutely nothing! In fact, I'm not even gonna look at you. Don't get anywhere near me and sleep on the floor, you damn girl!" He shouted, despite the fact that she stood well within earshot of him. He needed to get over himself.

"Bakugou," his name flowed like a song from her mouth, "you don't gotta be mean to me all the time, you know?"

Leaning forward with his arms across his bare chest, he studied the smile grow on her face like magic, for just a few moments ago, she had lost all shine in her big, brown eyes and lost all luster in her round hair. However, all that had returned like the brightness of her had never left. The fact that her essence had left in the first place continued to gnaw at him. Tightening his fist, the sight evoked memories of that green bastard Deku. She must still be in pain for him.

Bakugou's eyes followed the zipper of her pink jacket down the center of her body. Her heavy jacket slid down her arms to the floor. Splat. He tilted his head as the jacket fell to the ground like the curious dog he was. His eyes glued to the puddle of rose-colored, cotton fabric on the floor as he hesitantly and slowly turned his head to look at her.

Hands on her hips, she expected his interest and frowned to stifle her smile, "See? You're lookin' at me."

"How the fuck can I look away from that?" exclaimed the volatile young man as he gestured towards her thin, wet shirt that shined like black paint from her body. Grappling the air with his rigid fingers that bent at the knuckles, he let out a low, frustrated growl. "That doesn't even look like a shirt."

Why did she enjoy his attention? She turned around and sighed, "Jeez, I just took off my jacket. Where's the bathroom? I'll go-" she stopped and squealed, for a small explosion erupted inches from her body.

Again, Bakugou melted around her. He held his arms around her without touching her. The hand that set off the explosion hovered above her belly. His other hand hovered over her heart. His chest pressed against her back as he lowered his nose to her neck. He could smell everything - her tantalizing sweat, her heated breath, the lavender soap she used that morning. What a fucking recipe for this chaotic sensation that burst between them.

She stayed still and failed to deny him. She wanted him as close as he had gotten - or possibly even closer. "W-What are you doin', Bakugou?" Uraraka stuttered. Another small eruption crackled from his hands. The sound satisfied her like fireworks shining in the summer night sky, and she watched with the same level of intrigue.

Her penchant for his abrupt idiosyncrasies dangled her and forced her to fear the pleasure that she chased in his eyes. Right, his eyes, where were they? She looked to her left shoulder and saw him staring right back up at her. Gasping, the sound muted against another explosion from his palms.

"What do you think?" He said without a trace of hostility in a deep and monotone voice. "I'm drying you off."

Nearly panting, she replied, "Then, why didn't you do that with your clothes?"

Uraraka closed her eyes knowing that she could acknowledge the change of clothes she brought with her for a stay in her hometown, but she tightly closed her mouth to steady her breathing.

Bakugou no longer suppressed his silent interest in her body. He could not deny that his eyes wished to wander about the surface of her body - beneath her paper-thin shirt and below her waist, too, but if he were being honest with himself, the view he had of her in that moment could satisfy him. Anything more would overwhelm him.

"Can't you see that I'm drying you off? I'm not gonna hurt you or nothing."

Red rose to his cheeks. His heart sped as heat overwhelmed him. When she leaned back onto him, he thought he would lose control. His body tightened and became rigid at the joints, but explosions persisted from his palms. Leering down at her, his tongue hung from his mouth.

"I know," she sighed, for she could feel the effects of his gesture. Not only had most of the water evaporated from her clothes but she enjoyed the moderate heat that grew between them.

Then, another violent boom erupted from the outside and snatched her back to reality. Right, the storm. Almost instantly, she twirled around and leaned into him, and like nothing had ever happened, she squeezed the water from her eyes and took another deep breath.

As they stood together in the strange silence of the room, she found endless comfort in his arms yet again.

He pulled her into an apprehensive hug. "Don't tell me you're scared of storms."

Her blushing betrayed her. Oh no! She didn't mean to reveal her weakness to him.

Bakugou's dismay surfaced because he had no idea how the hell he could protect her from nature. Dizzy and lightheaded, he stumbled back a bit before she pounced on him. They fell back onto the bed. His eyes shot open, but instead of waking up from this celestial dream, she had swooped him down for a kiss.

Uraraka had a deep desire that she could no longer deny: the endless warmth and comfort in her eyes mixed with the raging hormones of her adolescent state piloted her to him. If he embraced her and kissed her, then thunder and storms and rejection of the day failed to disturb her.

The stubborn teens could not find the words to express their thoughts and feelings. Instead, their hands found each other. Bakugou gripped her full behind as Uraraka stroked the ridges of her lover's abs. Each touch expressed pages upon pages of untold affection.

Pulling back, Bakugou groaned and stroked the tip of his tongue against her hot neck like a paintbrush and flicked at her earlobe. Their mouths did more against each other than trying to push out muddled phrases or sentences. Anything they intended to say streamed past their lips into moans.

"You're really fucking annoying, you know that?" Bakugou finally scolded under his breath as he bit his lip to devour an area of her tender neck with a passionate kiss. "Pushing me to the edge like this."

She teased, for she sat on top of him in more ways than one - superior and confident, she whispered, "You said you weren't gonna hurt me, right?" Her back arched and curved to conform to the arm that wrapped around her. A smirk appeared on her lips once she felt him cup her chin and tilt her head to meet him for another deep and passionate kiss.

Deeper, they delved into their wonderous and ever expansive world. Intimacy on this level surpassed anything they had ever experienced. The same tension that unnerved them also drove them to achieve the blissful zenith of ecstacy between them. Like a drug, each touch stirred a deep craving for more.

Courage, fear, desire, they felt it all equally, and somehow the forces all led them to that moment of a kiss.

Pressing her palm against his cheek, she pushed her tongue past his lips and spread her thighs to properly straddle him. Moaning, she slid her hand down his body once more and lower and lower towards his waist before he grabbed her wrist.

Thunder boomed and she trembled staring down into his red eyes. "Wha?" she gasped. There it was again - reality.

"What do you think you're doing? Do you know how much restraint it takes to not pin you down and have my way with you right now?" he growled as her abrupt gesture shattered him. "What's really going on, round face?"

A rush of tears poured from her eyes down onto him. She sat up and tried to wipe them away.

Those drops of salty tears felt like shards on Bakugou's skin. He gripped the sides of her waist, fighting back a grimace. "Stop crying and running away and just tell me who I have to beat up and what the hell is going on!"

Instead of replying with words, she shed tears and squeaked out apologies.

Sighing, Bakugou stood up and swept Uraraka over his shoulder. Grabbing a blanket, he marched over towards a door - the closet and sat her on the floor in there. He closed the door behind them. "You're a fucking mess, you know that?" he informed her as he sat slumped against the wall a half meter away. "You come here, scared out of your mind then all of a sudden, you're jumping my bones like you're trying to climb me."

"Don't say it like that!" Uraraka pleaded. She had grown to detest the nymph that emerged from her when he got her alone. Maybe this had been deeper than desperation, for she realized that she had not only forgotten the torrential storm outside but the turbulent grief that burdened her heart from Midoriya's rejection.

"What are we doing in here?" She asked as she got to her knees.

"Why did you come back?" muttered Bakugou to change the subject, but in the darkest corner of his honest mind, his curiosity haunted him. He was reluctant to rejoice in the fact that she stayed by his side instead of leaving back to UA with Kirishima. Too much of his heart had been invested in her whims to allow himself to assume that she developed an attachment to him. As he recalled her playfully kicking her feet at the train station, he wondered if she felt the gravity of their reunion.

What did it mean to her to be with him?

He must have been referring to when she got off the train and ran back to him - she assumed. "Oh, I had no choice. I had to stop you from making a scene."

She threw up her hands. In the dark closet, she somehow spotted the whites of his eyes as he shot his signature glare back at her. Scratching her head, she added, "Then the kiss - it was just because of the emotion. I don't know why I keep doing that."

Was she really not going to admit that after all these intimate moments, at the end of the day, maybe she simply wanted him?

Bakugou stirred, shifting his weight forward to pull her to his chest. Thunder erupted as soon as they made contact. He closed his eyes and spoke against the noise and directly into her ear. "You're fucking stubborn just like she said."

How could she react to something as trite as thunder when he pulled moves like that? Uraraka furrowed her brow and complained. "I don't know what you're talkin' 'bout."

"Alien girl."

"I told her not to tell you!" Uraraka shamefully buried her head into Bakugou's chest. Once she realized the innate reaction, she pulled away. Why did she always find repose in physical contact? She pressed her cheeks together with her sweaty palms and took a deep breath.

Bakugou covered the backs of her hands with his. "Stop running away from me. Why did you hide all damn day like a coward?"

Even in that moment, Uraraka lamented her fragility. Uraraka had too much pride to confess to Bakugou that the rejection shattered her and left her desperate for human touch. She had nearly begged with tears filling her eyes for Bakugou to embrace her, but as the night wore on, she realized she may have clung to him out of pure desire rather than despair. Given either option, she would rather remain silent.

Bakugou could not deny the frustration that stirred in his gut. Her impermanence unnerved him and caused him to shift his weight once again. Surely, she remained with him at that moment, but a strong breeze could whisk her away at any moment.

Strong, green breezes, like Midoriya.

And, Uraraka: she noticed during the flashes of lightning that pushed through the cracks of the closet door that she feared the celestial sensations that sparkled down her spine. Just by looking at him, she knew that she could no longer pretend that there was nothing between them but hormones.

She feared the storm within her more than she feared the thunder without.

Bakugou took a deep breath. He knew her answer would hurt, but he had no other idea how to make it clear how he felt. "Uraraka, I'm sick of making you moan my name like it is now. I'm sick of you leaving me dry every damn time. Do you know how crazy I went today? I thought you were kidnapped," he shouted in the closed in space of the closet. "Date me, and you won't even remember that green dork's name. I'll make you fucking happy," demanded Bakugou.

The loudest bang of thunder rang out after he said that, but Uraraka didn't move an inch. She sat across from him staring into his eyes through the thick shadows of the closet. What if Bakugou spoke from his heart? What if this was how he felt?

Chapter Text

A surge of adrenaline rushed through her blood. "Date?!" she screamed before the word settled into her like a brick into water. No way. Blanket wrapped around her head, she leaned in closer to read his expression. While she typically had confidence in reading Bakugou, she examined the vibrant fluster on his cheeks and the glossy frustration in his red eyes like she would view a painting at a museum. His strong jaw, handsome eyes, and reliable-looking shoulders all came together. He looked like a human rather than a Bakugou.

While she had never stopped to think of Bakugou as a lover sort of person, that did not mean that she could never think of him as a lover. In fact, a smile grew in her cheeks. She tried to stifle the felicity and freedom that captivated her once troubled heart, for she just knew that Bakugou could not possibly think of her in that way. This had to be some kind of power play. Up until that moment, he had just been talking about marriage and quirks and making her his, but this situation was different, right? Her cheeks burned, and if he could see the pleasant shock in her eyes, then maybe he could have stopped himself.

But his fear gave way to the pitch black darkness of the closet.

Bakugou was scared. Time was passing and she was not saying anything. By the time the lightning flashed through the cracks of the closet door once more, he had regained his bitter composure. Furrowing his brow, he stuck his tongue out and sneered his most delinquent and callous sneer yet, "Oi, you didn't actually believe me, did you?"

Don't.

"You really think I'd want to go on a date with you?"

What are you saying?

"You're 100 years too early to see someone like me get soft enough for that shit."

You love her. She makes you weak.

"Holding hands, sharing food, and confessing sappy shit - you didn't actually think that sounds like something a badass like me would do, did you?"

You're ruining it.

"All I want to do is feel you up and have you pop out some kids for me in a couple years. Marriage is just to mark my territory."

She doesn't deserve you.

"So don't get your hopes up."

Get away, Roundface. Run.

Pressing his hands against the sides of his head, Bakugou brought his knees towards his body. He panted after the acrimonious rant, and he expected to hear her sniff or cry or anguish, but instead he only heard more silence. Sliding his hands down, he covered his ears. He couldn't bear the wait.

Uraraka grabbed his wrist after leaning forward - their eyes inches apart, she failed to flinch. After all, they had been much closer than that before when they embraced one another under the sheets. "What's wrong? It's okay. I didn't think you were serious or nothin'," she assured him in a soft, even voice as if she were speaking to a child or an animal.

I don't deserve you.

Absolute horror speared through Bakugou's wide, red eyes. Tears threatened to pour as they glossed the surface of his eyes. Of course, she understood him. That was the worst response she could have given him. Pity? Sympathy? Understanding? Genuine concern for his pathetic state?

"You say a lot of stuff you don't mean, and I know you like to tease me," she smiled. "I also know that you like spendin' time with me, or else, you wouldn't be here with me right now, right? You came all the way to this town just to check on me." Despite her soft smile, she beared doubt about his attachment to her.

Bakugou didn't fool Uraraka with his scathing rant. By his primal instinct he wrapped his arm around the small of her back and brought her near him. However, the sensation felt rather depraved like he, a barbarian, forced her, a fucking celestial goddess, further into his trap. He would kill to have the guts to say, "I love you," but until then, he'd refrain from engaging in whatever this was.

Pressing her forehead to his, Uraraka smiled as she closed in the short yet passionate and hot kiss as she tasted the satisfying flavor of his sweet tongue before sharply pulling away. She gasped, "Bakugou! You're sick, aren't you?" The apparent heat had scorched her forehead.

While his face had reddened, she spiked his temperature further with that sudden kiss. He pulled away and got to his feet before opening the door. "I'm gonna step out. Sounds like the storm ended a while ago. I'll bring back some food," he flatly announced.

Uraraka clutched the plush blanket around her head like a bonnet. Intrigue and wonder filled her heart as she watched Bakugou's large, muscular back exit the closet. He evoked the image of a hunter going out for food for his wife and family which led the girl to ponder: what if she dated Bakugou?

Curling up into a ball, she completely covered her face and squealed, "Kyah!" He had rejected her faster than she could fully realize that maybe Bakugou was attractive, kind-hearted, and interesting enough to be her type. Perhaps, he met her needs.

Surely, shifting infatuation from Midoriya to his former friend and rival, Bakugou could not be an easy feat. Unless.

She liked Bakugou all along!

No. Silly. That couldn't be it. He would never like her in that way. Too many drama TV shows, too many shoujo comics, too much time with the brute may not have led her to believe his chide remarks about her, but her mind wandered too far from the light and deep into the shadows of Bakugou Katsuki.

She heard the door close behind Bakugou before she had a chance to ask to come along, but maybe she could use the time alone to think and calm her busy nerves. While she considered herself to be a confident and capable warrior, tonight she felt like a weak and helpless maiden that eagerly awaited her lover's return.

Although the storm had passed, she gulped at the thought of facing a prolonged bout of solitude. Alone with her thoughts.

Hours passed in the damned hotel room as Uraraka rolled around alone in bed next to the vibrant phallic objects that she had found stored around the room. With a heavy sigh, her mind wandered to her obfuscated admirer. Wouldn't the mattress be much more comfortable if Bakugou filled the cold spaces with his rigid and hot body?

Uraraka's heartbeat bled into the vacant room and filled every corner that Bakugou's voice had left absent. The room was only hot in temperature, but if she allowed her mind to consider his sensual physique of hardened arms and defined, sweaty abs, she could attest that with his large muscles and artistic definition, most girls should say that he was attractive.

Including her.

She panted before sitting up and crossing her legs on the black, satin sheets of the full-size bed. Her disheveled hair had grown wilder by the minute as she spent his absence twisting and turning throughout the remainder of the evening.

Where had he gone? She desperately yearned for his company once more - just to talk. The solitude bored her. Over an hour had passed and she could have sworn that the convenience store was next door, but she knew not to obsess too much. He could take care of himself.

Throughout her mixture of angst, adolescent hormones, and longing, she snapped away from her cycle to worry for Bakugou. He had a fever, and he had yet to return.

Grabbing her shoes, she got her stuff together and headed out the door.

The thick walls did their best to insulate the moans of pleasure, but Uraraka could still hear the echoes of sex as she paced down the maroon carpeted hallway to the stairwell. She recalled the streamline of pleasure that Bakugou fed to her like a smooth and captivating milky-way and how his volition truncated the madness on his whim. He left her not high and dry but down and wet once again.

Mixed with her anxious concern, innate resentment worked itself into her muddled consciousness. She would either save him or punish him. Either way, she had to find the man that made her heart explode with anticipation, fear, and desire.

"That could be us," said her adolescent mind before Uraraka slapped her pink cheeks and wept. Why did her mind go there? Of course, she wasn't ready, but she had been thinking about such a sensual activity as if it had been inevitable. The young, blossoming woman pressed her thighs together as she walked. This must have all been part of his elaborate plan to subdue her.

By the time she reached the slick sidewalk, she noticed how the relentless autumn winds caused her to shiver. The rain fell steadily among the absence of thunder or lightning. No jacket, no umbrella, no sense. Her fear for his safety kept her going. She couldn't turn back.

The convenience store should have been around the corner, and as she neared the edge, her heart sank. What if he wasn't there? What if someone kidnapped him again?

Her tunnel vision to the lit windows of the store had her sprinting.

Before she could finally look to see if he was there, a surge of instinct hit her like a bolt of lightning. She turned around. Glancing behind her, hot tears fell straight to the ground from her round, brown eyes and faster than her raging heartbeat.

There he was. "Katsuki!" she yelled louder than what was necessary to the boy passed out on the green bench in the wet shadows of the store. His arm and leg slumped over the side, and as she neared him to confirm and comfort him, she sobbed at his placid face. Within the rays of the headlights from cars that passed by, she wondered when she last witnessed him sleep.

Relaxed brow, emotionless frown, she thought he looked breathtaking. Not only did his profile astonish her as a stark contrast to the scowl he had during his rant of rejection, but pleasantly, his appearance enveloped her like a blank canvas that she could paint whatever vibrant or pastel colors she saw fit. And, my, how her mind wandered.

She saw all the strength, integrity, and compassion she ever wanted in a lover.

Bakugou had his limp arm drape over the side of the bench as he tightly held onto an assortment of sweet and spicy snacks along with a few savory cups of ramen. Why did his minute attention to her desires make her heart beat wildly?

He didn't wake after all the commotion. Pressing the back of her hand against his forehead, she realized how high his fever had gotten. Shamelessly, she stroked the side of his cheek with her fingertips and watched him levitate. "Let's go, okay, Bakugou? I'll take care of you," she sent her assurance against his unconscious ears.

Whether or not this was her fault didn't matter, she had to get him back to the hotel. So then, taking him by the wrist, she crossed his arms around her neck before pulling his legs to her side for a weightless piggyback ride.

His nose nuzzle into her neck as he softly exhaled warm breaths into one of the most sensitive spots or her body. Only for a moment, she noticed the chills that he sent her with every breath. However, then was not the time for raging hormones.

As she stepped into the store, the senior cashier gave her a look of confusion with a tilted head and frown. She wasn't there for his approval. If anything rubbed off on her from Bakugou, perhaps this variation of resilience topped it all.

From her upbringing in a struggling household, she learned how to nurse herself back to health. Her parents always worked, so she had to take care of herself and go to middle school no matter what. It paid off, and she intended to give Bakugou the same treatment.

Picking up a fever reducer, she assumed that he also needed a decongestant by the way that heavily breathed into her ear. Hopefully, that was it. "You can get better, Bakugou," she whispered to him. Cold compresses, too! She dashed to collect the final healing item at the front before she realized two large hands cup the underside of her damp breasts.

"Fuck, Ochako," muttered a low, stern voice in her ear. "Your tits are fucking perfect especially when they're wet." He massaged her breasts by pressing his thumb against her most sensitive spots and drew a sharp moan from her voice.

Uraraka staggered forward and braced herself on the counter out of the line of sight from the nosey cashier. He touched her like he knew her body for years. She panted, "Bakugou, you're going to get us in trouble. I don't want this reputation."

"Reputation? You're my wife. Everybody fucking knows that," he said against her neck and pressed his lips against her skin.

Wife? He was being delusional. This was the sickness talking. But just because he was delusional didn't mean she wanted him to stop. However, now was not the time! The shame of the heat in the moment spiked, and gently, pushed his curious hands up to her collarbone. What happened to her? This side surfaced, and she had no idea how to hide it. They weren't even dating, and here she was submitting to their desires.

Redness splotched her face like watercolors as she waddled up to the man behind the counter in a blue and white striped apron. She dug into her pocket for a few bills of cash. Just enough to get what she needed.

"You two seem way too young to get into shenanigans like this. I'm throwing in these for free," reprimanded the clerk as he threw in a small box of something.

Uraraka was too embarrassed to stop and see what they got for free, so she thanked the cashier with a quick bow and scurried away with the weightless Bakugou on her back. Once again, his unconscious hands slid to her breasts as he gave them a quick squeeze. She nearly lost her balance before regaining her composure and running through the rain back to the hotel.

As Bakugou still remained weightless and suspended in the air of the hotel room, Uraraka closed her eyes as she stripped his soaking black shirt from him. Hesitantly, she began to unbutton his jeans, but that would be too much, wouldn't it? No, if he stayed in his dripping wet clothes, then he'd probably get sicker.

With newfound determination, she unzipped his pants and pulled them towards his feet until they dropped to the ground.

"All Might B-boxers!" Uraraka chuckled as she caught sight of the red, white, yellow and blue patterned underwear. What a dork. "You're so adorable, Bakugou."

She was falling for him, and as her heart pounded, she knew the floating sensation that captured her.

Clearing off the bed of the sex toys she had discovered, she prepared the bed for the suspended Bakugou and changed into her pajamas. She used a nearby deep indigo blanket to toss around Bakugou's back and gently pull him down to her as she sat on the edge of the bed.

His sleeping face had become one of the most pleasing views for her to witness. She could not stifle her small smile as she brought him closer and closer to her. Even his wild hair seemed calmed and subdued from the water that weighed it down. Finally having him in her hold calmed her as she fell back onto the bed and embraced him beneath the blanket.

Yearning to feel his weight press down against her, she released him from her anti-gravity spell and pleasantly sighed beneath his weight. The sensation brought reality to the moment, yet at the same time, she sank deeper into her succulent fantasy of being with him.

Just then, his hands slammed against the mattress on the sides of her head as she bounced beneath the pressure. Dazed stupor in his bloodshot eyes failed to startle her before he growled soft enough to be a whisper but rough enough for her to hear, "I love you, Ochako."

Fuck.

She wanted him to mean it more than anything he had ever said before. Her heart floated before shattering down to reality, and back to his earlier false confession. Even though his face looked clear and coherent, his voice soft and deliberate, and the back of his hand stroked down the side of her face, she knew this couldn't be true. "You're sick," noted Uraraka as tears fell back through her bangs and to her ears.

But, maybe, you love him, too.

And, just as she predicted, his elbows buckled, his eyes closed, and he collapsed down to her before their lips met. She wept once more. Why did she allow herself to fall for him?

Although his consciousness had seemed to fade, he caressed the sides of her body. His chest heaved down into hers. He kissed her adamantly and deliberately and like he loved her.

Until, slowly, his determination waned, his hands came to a rolling stop, and he stopped just like she feared he would.

"I want to be with you, Bakugou," she whispered because she knew he couldn't hear her. "I think I might," Uraraka began between her sobs. She knew he was using her and playing her like a moaning saxophone, but just like she couldn't stop her heart from beating, she couldn't stop herself from falling for him.

She didn't have time to sulk. His fever must have still been high. She needed to help him with the medicine and the snacks they bought. They had school in the morning.

"Why do you have to walk so fucking slowly? Hurry up!" shouted Bakugou as they neared the busy train station the next Monday morning. After a miraculous autumn breeze blew through, he watched as she covered up her butt and stuck her tongue out at him. "For fucks sake, you really think I'm checking you out when we have an hour to get across town, get dressed, and get back to school?"

Uraraka sighed and haggardly hunched forward. She just didn't want her panties to show to the world. Wiping her dark eyes, she yawned. All night, she attempted to nurse him back to normal. Cold compresses, chicken ramen, and cold medicine were usually enough for her to recover. She had successfully nursed him back to health, too. (Somehow, a few foil packets of condoms ended up among the purchases, but she had successfully wiped their existence from her memory.)

Apparently.

She would never tell Bakugou, and Uraraka hoped that he'd never remember their night together. Fortunately, she managed to wake up before him, so he didn't have to endure the shock of waking up next to her. When she remembered waking up next to him, her blush intensified. Why did her body have to react in this way? They'd never get together. Never ever.

Once they stepped onto the crowded train, Uraraka jumped as Bakugou wrapped his arm around her from behind. "Don't go wandering off anywhere, alright?" He commanded as he made damn sure that if anyone could see her round ass, it'd be him and only him. Could she hear his heart pound when they stood this closely? If Kotone said it meant something, then maybe Uraraka would, too. He frowned, for he couldn't see her face as he peered down at her auburn hair. At least, he felt he could guard her from such a standpoint.

If he could see her face, he'd know just how much she enjoyed the sudden contact. Although they both knew that she could protect herself, his intentions to guard her made her melt over and over again. Maybe he had warmed up to her. Either that or he had become more possessive over her.

She beamed up at him and felt his arm tense. "You're such a hero, Bakugou," she teased before sticking out her tongue again.

Bakugou's heart skipped a beat. She was so damn cute. He had to make her his before his heart exploded. Wiping his free hand on his pants, he figured that she hadn't gotten over Midoriya.

The storm had clear and the sun shined brightly in the clear morning sky.

Uraraka wanted to confirm that he felt better, if he remembered groping her at the convenience store, and if he actually loved her.

Bakugou wanted to ask if she was hungry, why her face got red whenever their eyes met, and if he could kiss her before they reached the campus.

Instead, they stayed silent within the lulls of their frivolous arguing as they tried to avoid the heart of what mattered to them on that crowded, morning train ride. Uraraka responded to the concerned texts of Kotone. Soon enough, the train reached their destination, and they disembarked.

Unfortunately, they walked the rest of the way to the dormitory together with their arms occasionally brushing against each other. Uraraka kept her head down until she reached the dorm as she stroked her upper arm.

She definitely had a crush. In fact, her crush had been so strong that she didn't even want to return to school! Quickly, she got dressed in her blazer school uniform and set out to school.

What a busy morning. Pacing down the hallway, she thought over the assignments that were due that day. She thought about the friends that she forgot to meet up with before school. Instead, she thought about what Bakugou would say to her. Her rage built instead of any other emotion. He was such an asshole for that phony confession.

However, she wanted to see him.

From down the hall, she could already hear commotion. There's no way he told everyone about their night together at the love hotel, right? Uraraka's feet quickened. She covered her chest and stepped into the loud and bright classroom as she stared at her feet like some submissive, shrinking violet.

Her heart jumped.

Standing on a desk, Bakugou declared with a cocky grin as he pointed down to a group of classmate, "Anybody got a problem with that? I know you extras can't mind your own damn business."

Uraraka looked around the group of kids.

Shrugging, Sero grinned, "Yeah, we knew that already."

"You're really obvious with that sort of thing," sighed Kaminari.

Wide-eyed and awestruck by Bakugou's boast, Kirishima cheered and clapped.

Jirou noted, "At least you're saying stuff like that and not telling her to marry you."

"Oh, no, she's here!" exclaimed Mina.

Then she saw it - on the board, written in thick and large characters, "I FUCKING LOVE URARAKA OCHAKO!" Scurrying to erase the mad confession, Uraraka knew exactly who wrote him. Blood rushed to her face until she could hardly breath. She grabbed a dry eraser and pressed it against the board as her breathing trembled.

"What the fuck are you doing?" exclaimed Bakugou as he grabbed her by the waist from behind. "I write something like that, and you erase it? I'm gonna kill you for that."

"That's not the way to a girl's heart!" chided someone from behind.

"We're just friends. Bakugou," she whined in between her shallow breath and heavy heartbeats. Their overtly familiar contact, his repeated confession, the curious eyes of her classmates made her head spin. What was going on? And why the hell did she want to giggle?

"You hear that, Deku?!" announced Bakugou as he stopped pulling her to shake a fist. "You can fiddle your thumbs all you want, but in the end, I'm gonna be the one." With that, he picked her up and cradled her in his arms before jumping onto a desk with his back facing the crowd.

"Booooo!"

"That's not romantic!"

"You're embarrassing her!"

The voices of their classmates faded upon the enamored pair's ears. Although they once cared about the reactions of their peers, as Bakugou held Uraraka, they began to only care about the thoughts of each other. They were conscious of the body heat radiating from every inch of their skin. Blood loudly pulsed through their veins, and as they stood still, they could hear it from each other. Sweaty palms, soft skin, short breaths - they sensed it all as the taste of each other's kiss still lingered from the night before. Was this love?

Bakugou had no doubt while Uraraka wanted to doubt it more than she did, yet there they were - head over hills for each other.

Nervously, she giggled, "Bakugou, put me down. You're being ridiculous. Don't say things you don't mean."

"I mean it this time!" he yelled as a vein throbbed at his temple. "Listen, I don't care if you believe me. I'm gonna do whatever the fuck you need me to do so that I don't have to deal with you denial shit."

Uraraka grimaced, "Denial? You told me that you liked me twice already. How the hell-" she stopped herself. "How the heck are you supposed to think I'll believe you?"

Would it be bad to say that the display of affection made her heart feel a little lighter? Would it be wrong to say that she'll wait and see?

This time in the silence between them, she noticed something different about him. The serenity in his eyes looked like he had made peace with something within and without him. His typical grimace twitched into a smile. If they were alone, she probably would have kissed him as an innate reaction to the pleasant expression on his handsome features. His blonde hair caught the sunlight behind him, and for a moment, she considered acknowledging the significance in this confession. She sighed, "Are you going to put me down, Bakugou?"

His smile continued to grow and brighten. "Why are you staring at me so much? My face is doing something weird, isn't it?" Bakugou asked this as he tried to straighten his face, but for as long as he looked at her cherubic, round face, he knew that he'd never be able to rid of his stupid look.

People would talk and shout and she wouldn't hear a word as long as he cradled her. "Bakugou," she groaned, for she knew this was just the beginning of the storm of Bakugou Katsuki.

Chapter Text

Chapter Text

After touring the empty dorms with the Bakugou's, Ochako's exhaustion pulled her to the couch where she and Katsuki collapsed in the dimly lit dormitory commons vacant of their boisterous classmates. Finally, a wave of relief hit Ochako - she could finally be herself again without the curious eyes of her potential in-laws. She rested her head on Katsuki's sweaty shoulders and breathed in the silent atmosphere of the dark dorms. Her hand limply fell onto his lap, and she was too tired to feel his sudden convulsions.

"Do you think I impressed them?" she asked with her round eyes glancing over at him. While he wasn't the softest pillow, she needed the support of his firm muscles. Ochako would have fully closed her eyes again and yielded to the burst of heat and comfort, but then she noticed him unbuttoning his moist uniform shirt. "Bakugou!"

Pulling away from her, he got to a knee on the couch and gently cradled her head to spread her across the cushions. "What? And what'd I say about calling me that?" he scoffed. "The dorms are dead. Everybody is probably studying."

They'd be back any minute, though, right? However, she curiously watched and listened for him to unfastened each button from top to bottom as her lips parted. She breathed more heavily but not from exhaustion. Beyond that were the tingles of anticipation that jolted from the heat of her neck to her toes. That was until she caught sight of his cocky smirk.

"I figured you wouldn't return the favor," he grinned before bracing himself over her sprawled out body. Katsuki saw the tightened uniform around her curves and pitched a bargain. "Top 5 buttons." That would give her a 50% exposure.

A giggle on her smile, she quirked an eyebrow up at him. "What are you saying?" she asked before unbuttoning from the bottom.

God, he loved her. Such boldness. Such flair. All sprawled out beneath him like a juicy platter of ambrosia. However, more than lust, something else had been on his mind. Gritting his teeth and clutching the couch around her, he stared her down with intense eye contact. Tension wrinkled his brow. Thoughts of her weakened his lips. "Uraraka," he muttered her name, soaked to the core with emotion.

"Katsuki," she smiled with the reflected weakness and uncertainty in her face. Why "My name is Ochako."

Fuck. He was trying to talk about feelings, yet she was using irresistible seductress magic on him from top to bottom. But. But. Watching her finish unbutton her final button. He couldn't argue with this. "Tell me to stop," Katsuki nearly begged through clenched teeth. "Ochako."

Their lips met on her initiation. Her muscles melded with the couch and she pulled the back of his head to her. Tilting her head, she kissed him and comfortably stroked his inner cheek and teeth with her tongue. Her careful hands drew light scratches down his strapping chest. She sighed and groaned in amusement while keeping their lips in contact.

He just wanted to feel every inch of her skin and favored no particular area. His curious hands stroked the sides of her cushiony waist. When she pulled away for a short moment, he said, "I like that feral look in your eyes."

Nervously laughing, she asked and gave him her best tough face. "Like this?" Wrinkled brow. Lowered head. Staring him down into his soul.

"Don't fuck with me, Ochako," Bakugou teased with a smirk. "I might get to a point where it'll be harder and harder to stop myself."

"Then, don't," she said with a straight face - trying to maintain her glare. This time she wouldn't ruin the moment with sappy emotions and uncertainty like she had on the night she made cookies with him. She had been starving for his kiss all day, so to no avail, she pushed aside her emotions and thoughts to unleash those same sentiments - physically. He was her prize for the fight she put up against his family.

Katsuki had only wanted to talk, but damn if she didn't leave him speechless with her lips all over his neck. And, this was what he wanted. A while would pass before his scrambled brain could come up with words, so why fight her?

A violent storm swept approached Japan that night and caused power surges throughout the city. The rain would stay for several days and cause major flooding in the area. Deku couldn't sleep, and he knew people like Ochako hid from storms. Tenya, Deku, and Ochako once stayed up in the commons, watching movies together until their dear friend fell asleep.

Who kept her company that night? He missed those days.

When Izuku crept down the stairs to the commons, he heard a shrill cry resembling his dear friend. "Uraraka?" he called out before flipping the switch. Much like the switch, his power surged through his veins on instinct.

"Shut. Up," growled the shirtless Katsuki as he had Ochako pinned on the couch. The distinct odor of his sweat overpowered the room. Huffing like a wolf, he bared his fangs and licked his lips.

Deku's hair furled with energy as he prepared to tackle his childhood friend. He readied himself by bending his legs. Raw power flashed around the young man like lightning. "Let her go, Kacchan," he commanded before leaping forward to snatch Katsuki by the shoulder.

Katsuki protectively blocked both of them with his back and fell to cover Ochako. "Ow, what he fuck is your problem, Deku? If you're trying to steal a look at her, then you already missed your chance."

Quickly, Ochako grabbed a pillow to cover her face. "Deku, I'm okay. I was just hanging out with Katsuki."

At an instant, Deku settled his hostile energy and sighed. "Because of the storm?" He steadied his breath before realizing he stepped on Ochako's blazer.

"There's a storm?" asked Ochako with her curious, doe eyes from behind the pillow.

Suddenly, all the details of the situation clicked into place. Izuku stood stiff as steel and simply muttered, "Oh."

Tilting his head to the side, Katsuki smirked at Ochako. "I'll show you a storm."

What was going on?! Izuku prayed to forget what he saw, and he didn't have nearly enough experience to fill in the blanks of what could have transpired. Clothes everywhere, humidity at 100% - he didn't have any experience with girls, but that's where this was going, right? In the direction of experience.

"Okay, Katsuki. I think that's gonna be enough cuddling for one day." As Ochako sat up and buttoned her shirt back up to the collar, she curiously peered over at Izuku. He didn't seem jealous or bitter. "I wanted him to distract me," she admitted.

"You call that cuddling? Don't act like a goody two-shoes all of a sudden," teased Katsuki from across the couch.

Raising his hands to assure her, Izuku apologized, "Sorry, Kacchan, Uraraka, I got ahead of myself." However, he struggled to stifle a smile once Midoriya realized that Uraraka had finally decided. "I shouldn't have interfered."

"You had your chance," gloated Katsuki.

"Right," Izuku sighed with cold sweat at his temple.

Katsuki pushed down on Izuku's shoulder and stared him down. "Just as long as you know not to tell everyone. I mean, you can tell them that I take care of Ochako's and all her needs now. She doesn't need you anymore."

Glancing around, Izuku realized she had disappeared. "You know she can take care of herself."

At the notion that she had left, Katsuki's shoulders sank. Tucking his hands into the pockets of his sagging slacks, he stepped closer to Deku. "Don't think you're off the hook. You're still standing between us," he muttered. The gleam had dulled in his red eyes.

Furrowing his brow, Deku's eye twitched when he asked, "What do you mean, Kacchan?"

"You never gave her a clear, fucking answer, and you know it. Instead, she's part of her is still waiting for you to say something. But, I still have to watch her watch you drool over that Frog girl Tsui. " Bakugou warned him as his voice crackled like his palms. "Ochako is the girl I'm going to marry, so the sooner she gets your half-ass crush out of her head the better."

Deku never wavered when it came to his friends. "I know you'll take good care of her, Kacchan," he answered. "I don't know the whole situation, but I think she's wanted you all along. She's not the type of person that would open up like that to anyone, right? Even though she's nice and friendly, she keeps a lot of things buried." Midoriya remembered she kept so many secrets from her best friends. While he always knew her family struggled, he didn't realize the extent.

If he knew of the nights she went hungry, then he would have shared his dinner or cooked for her. Izuku didn't even know about her feelings for him until a few days ago, and they were best friends!

Aside from that, he could see the tension in Katsuki's pout. His insecurities prevailed and broke through his bravado. Promptly, Izuku spelled out what he saw, "She loves you, Kacchan."

Punching Midoriya's arm on a reflex, he cursed, "Don't fucking say that. It doesn't mean shit coming from you."

"Right," chuckled Izuku.

"I say it like I see it. I'm not some possessive asshole, but as long as you're fumbling with her feelings like a fool, she's going to think of you."

What did Katsuki expect him to do? "Katsuki," he started.

Thunder dominated the room as it shook. Rain slapped against the windows and the lights clicked off with another sharp strike of lightning.

The bathroom door slammed open and Ochako came jetting out. She crashed into Izuku and grabbed onto his arm before burrowing her face in his chest. Relief rained down his back. Her breath touched at his chin.

"Um, Uraraka?" Izuku nervously chuckled.

"Huh?" she replied.

The lights sparked back on just as Katsuki and Izuku made direct eye contact.

Ochako's cheeks reddened, and she jumped away before stumbling back into Katsuki. "Oh, hey."

Katsuki wrapped an arm around her shoulders, never breaking his stare from Izuku. "Hey, I'll walk you to your room, Ochako."

Collapsing onto the couch, Midoriya squirmed at the sweat stains in the shape of his childhood friend. He grimaced. The scent and sight disgusted even Midoriya. However, Katsuki took the moment to revel in her freedom. No longer did he have to worry about Ochako's heart, for he could tell by the way she gazed at Bakugou that morning when he confessed that she had long since given it to him. Even secondhand, Midoriya got chills when he saw how close they had become.

A passionate love like that. Could he have something like that one day? To love someone so shamelessly like Bakugou and Uraraka did, he didn't know if he could juggle school and training and love like they did. Even in their graceful fighting techniques, he could tell how skillful they would be at managing a love affair. And, Midoriya knew that Bakugou always found the path to his victories.

Pulling out his phone, he sent a quick text to Asui. "Do you want to go to the park tomorrow after school?"

Could Deku dare to even dabble? He put his arm over his eyes and sighed. Then, once he felt a quick vibration in his lap, he grinned.

Ochako could admit that she and Katsuki had progressed at an agonizing pace. The process resembled tearing through a dry, thick steak. Though, once the storm had started, it burst through their steel dams and flooded their thoughts! Since when had they become insatiable savages? 

Was it normal to be this physical? No one else was kissing! Just the other day, Iida made a passing remark about how they had a fling. Ochako did not know how to deny that. She couldn't just say that her heart pulsed with the rest of her body! Especially not to Iida.She doesn't run away, but how does she know this isn't more than a lust thing? Teen romances don't last, so is it okay to feel this good?

At night, she stirred in bed. Her memory had shortened, and she had to rush to class since sleeping so late. Ochako couldn't sleep well at all last night through the pounding thunder and cutting rain. Heart racing, palms sweating, yet worst of all - she could not put her feelings into words. After the incident of Deku catching them in the act, she apologized several times for clinging onto the wrong person. The worst person to Katsuki. She still hadn't quite figured out why she did it. Hopefully, she could blame it on the panic and darkness of the room. 

But at the root of all of this, she needed to prove her feelings to herself. 

Katsuki swooped over to her waist as soon as she stood at the end of class. He whispered in her ear, "You look like you've been thinking about me."

"I've been thinking about a lot of things - including you," she laughed with felicity. She needed to calm herself and live in the moment. Tilting her head back into his chest, she locked eyes with him. Her body sank into his.

How did his sculpted body knead her aching back? Maybe if she slept next to Katsuki at night, then she wouldn't feel so restless. She closed her eyes.

"Ahem. I was really hoping you'd catch the hint. I hate doing things like this, but you kids gave me no other choice," Aizawa appeared behind them. He snatched Katsuk away with his infamous strips of weighted cloth. "You. Cleaning duty. Now."

Ochako gasped and scrambled to cover her red face. School! School mattered the most.

The school never explicitly banned relationships, but the students gossiped that no one publicly announced their relationships due to the administration's strict surveillance. Heroes couldn't afford early pregnancies, and they needed to protect their reputation.

Further rumors stated that the Relationship Registration was a death trap both for the relationship themselves and the future tabloids. Everyone knew that relationships were better off as a secret hidden from cameras and eyes.

Aizawa stretched his shoulders and yawned as he chewed her out. He droned, "It's too much trouble. You're better off waiting until you're older. The school does what they can to protect your privacy, but we need to keep it on file to avoid legal issues if something were to happen."

Katsuki. He needed his reputation if he wanted to be the number one hero. Maybe that's why no one ever caught All Might in a love affair or even so much as a date.

"Oh," she said. "Will we be okay? We're just playing around."

"Yeah... someone like him... That's what I was afraid of," muttered Aizawa between several sighs and pauses. "Anyway, I'm more concerned about you. Women are usually affected by this more than men, you know. Just try to remember what's at stake here. Explaining this to Katsuki would have triggered a rebellion, but I'm telling you so that you're aware of how things work," he explained.

"I know," chuckled Ochako. She poked her fingers together and lowered her head. "If things do develop, should I get registered?"

"That'd be up to you, but if you choose not to, the school can't protect you from the media or from yourselves. It's even more scandalous to get caught without registration than to get caught with it," he explained as he turned and walked away.

"Oh," Ochako said. Gravity pulled her towards the Earth. Just as she began to relax, something like this would always jerk her back to reality. She didn't want to overthink things, but she cared too much about Katsuki to let their dreams dry and crumble.

And, with the gravity came the tears that threatened to drop from the corner of her eyes.

A book lightly tapped her shoulder. She sniffed and wiped her eyes, "I'm fine!"

"Kero?"

"Tsu!"

As soon as Katsuki set foot in the classroom, he immediately wanted to run out of there. That day had been particularly chilly, and the school had turned off the heat after classes ended. Of course, Iida Tenya with the glasses would be there with his dust mop. He stomped around the room as he slammed the mop into the legs of the desks, causing a bang or screech.

For the cleaning, Katsuki liked taking out the trash and ridding surfaces of dirt. He was pretty damn good at it.

Unfortunately, he failed terribly at dealing with people like Iida Tenya. Iida cared about things that didn't matter - like neatness, rules, and glasses. Sure, he trained just like everyone else, and he maintained great grades. But for what? His brother? His brother was fine enough, Stain was dead or something, and Katsuki swore the glasses were for aesthetic. Something else about his attitude perturbed him, too. Iida posed like everyone's parent, and so he probably had a hard-on for Ochako. After all, he was always lurking and staring at them.

Either way, he wasn't a threat to his career or love. Or so, Katsuki thought.

Katsuki desperately wanted to run off with Ochako somewhere. Now. If that shitty Deku said a word about what he saw, he knew he'd be dead. Katsuki trusted Deku more than that. "Surprise, surprise, the class president has an issue. I can do whatever I want to her - or, I should say, whatever she wants." He taunted. Katsuki loved getting a rise out of Iida, but not enough to postpone seeing Ochako.

Bending down to pick up a pencil near Katsuki's desk, Iida scoffed. "What?" he said while biting at the t in his word. As he stood he slammed the pencil against the surface. "Don't disgust me. I didn't say anything about Uraraka. Grab the cloth and start wiping."

Katsuki gave the rag sitting in the open corner cabinet a glance but then grinned back at Iida. "You jealous?" He loosened his tie even further and threw his blazer on the floor near his desk - right in front of Iida's mop.

"She's free to make her own decisions. I can only give her advice," he answered without raising his head to give him a second glance. "You think we're different - just because I speak differently and dress better."

"Better," scoffed Katsuki as he rolled his shoulders before obliging to the clean the tops of the desks.

"We're not different," claimed Iida as he marched from desk to desk. "That's why I'm warning you that if you care about her, you have to let her lead you."

Bakugou picked his ears as he sprayed the desk and aggressively rubbed it with a single arm. "I know what I'm doing," he claimed. He didn't know anything aside from the fact that he loved her.

"While I would never consider Uraraka to be weak, she is soft. She's able to put others first. Always. In fact, I would say that she's unable to put her own needs first," Iida rambled. "That's one of the reasons I thought Midoriya would be her ideal match."

"He's not," Katsuki barked. His outburst nearly pushed the desk over before he caught it. Lying across it, he muttered, "She's my partner - for this project. I won't let her fall behind. We'll fail if that happens."

Iida smirked like he had the advantage. Like he knew something that Katsuki didn't. "Uraraka and Midoriya told me. You get tunnel vision, don't you? Like me, you mainly think about yourself, your needs, and your desires."

"So? Maybe Ochako meets my needs and desires."

Coughing, Iida's glasses slid down his nose before he stood up straight. "Do you even know if she ever wanted to marry you?"

"I'm going to marry her."

"Again with the quirk marriage. That may have been cute 100 years ago, but now it's fucking creepy."

Katsuki's eyes shot open. There's no way he could have ever imagined Iida dropping the first f-bomb in the room. "It's not a fucking creepy because it won't be a fucking quirk marriage."

Setting his foggy glasses down on the podium near the board, Iida guffawed, "Aside from that, don't you think this situation is clearly a rebound situation?"

When he heard such a triggering suggestion, Katsuki triggered the bombs in his palms and scorched the rag in his sweaty hand. "Rebound? You damn reject!"

"Reject? That implies that she rejected me!"

"Right. She didn't even consider you," bragged Katsuki.

Iida trembled for a moment as he nearly dropped the mop. "I didn't ask to be considered - anyway! You-you haven't even met her parents yet, have you?"

"I don't give a damn about what her Mom and Dad think," Katsuki scowled at the very idea of meeting her irrelevant. "They've got jack-shit to do with us."

"Well, think again. Uraraka cares about her family more than anything. She's other-worlding you," he stated plainly before sweeping the pile of dust and trash into a bin.

Nerves frazzling by the second, Katsuki flinched. He stood in the corner in silence. "Otherworld?"

"She's intentionally keeping you separate from her family because they are permanent and you are temporary."

Sweat beaded on Katsuki's brow. "Give me a break. It's gonna happen. It just hasn't happened yet."

"Right," chuckled Iida as he examined his desk. "Did you clean this yet?"

Katsuki turned his back to the blue-haired classmate. He hunched his shoulders and shortly reflected over the imbalance of information. While she knew everything about him, many parts of her life and past remained a mystery to him. Up until that moment, he had not even dared to probe her.

Well, probe her for information.

Iida must have sensed Katsuki's moment of weakness, for he jumped for the jugular. "You think you're special, but Deku was special."

"Shut your damn mouth about Deku." He didn't need another reason for Deku to come between them. Bakugou checked his phone. No new messages. Was he any different?

"No phones in class!"

"Shut the fuck up!"

Quickly, Katsuki texted, "2 pm. Tomorrow."