Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

“Look up, Chako,” Camie said, her voice gentle but firm as she leaned in with the mascara wand.

“Sorry,” Ochako murmured, adjusting her gaze upward, trying to stay still despite the ticklish sensation of the brush sweeping through her lashes.

It was a typical Friday night, and Ochako found herself at Camie’s house alongside Mina. Sleepovers like these had been a tradition since childhood, though the dynamics had shifted over the years. Camie and Mina had blossomed into confident, outgoing girls who seemed to draw people in effortlessly, while Ochako had remained the quieter one. She didn’t mind—most of the time. Her friends never made her feel left out, even if their energy sometimes felt impossible to match. Tonight, however, they had dragged her into one of Camie’s favorite pastimes: makeovers.

Ochako glanced at the vanity mirror in front of her. The person staring back didn’t quite feel like her. Her skin was flawless, with just the right amount of blush to highlight her cheeks, and her lips were painted a soft, glossy pink. The fake eyelashes were the most foreign part—heavy and fluttery in a way that made her blink too much.

“You’ve got such a cute face. I don’t even have to try that hard,” Camie said, stepping back to inspect her work.

“Are you done yet?” Mina groaned, her voice muffled as she lay sprawled across Camie’s bed. She draped an arm dramatically over her face, clearly growing impatient.

“Hold your horses, drama queen,” Camie shot back, adjusting the last bit of Ochako’s eyeliner. “There! Now I’m done.”

Before Ochako could react, Mina sprang up, grabbed her wrist, and pulled her toward the full-length mirror. “Come on, come on! You’ve gotta see this!”

Ochako stumbled slightly as Mina dragged her, the pink slippers on her feet sliding across the carpet. When she finally stood in front of the mirror, Mina clapped her hands together and beamed. “Oh my gosh, look at you! You’re so pretty, I could cry!”

“Don’t cry,” Ochako said, laughing nervously. Her cheeks turned pink—not from the blush, but from the overwhelming attention.

“You look amazing,” Camie chimed in, standing behind her with her hands on her hips, clearly proud of her handiwork. “I’m so good at this.”

Mina leaned in, squishing Ochako’s cheek with one hand. “How can someone’s skin be this soft? I’m jealous.”

“Ow! Ashido!” Ochako yelped, batting Mina’s hand away as the other girl dissolved into laughter.

“I think I really outdid myself,” Camie began, but before she could finish, a rough voice cut through the air.

“Hey, Camie, have you seen my jersey?”

All three girls turned toward the door. Leaning casually against the frame was none other than Katsuki Bakugou. His blond hair was slightly disheveled, his crimson eyes sharp even in the dim light of the room. He wore a plain black T-shirt and gray sweatpants, and even in something so casual, he looked effortlessly put together.

Ochako’s heart stopped. If she thought her face was red before, it was nothing compared to the heat blooming in her cheeks now. She had liked Katsuki for years. Not that she’d ever tell anyone. He was way out of her league—popular, confident, and athletic. He wasn’t just the captain of the basketball team; he was its star player, with over forty college scholarship offers already. The two of them existed in completely different worlds. And yet, here he was, standing just a few feet away.

“No, and get out of my room!” Camie snapped, not even glancing up from where she was cleaning up her makeup supplies.

“Wow, best sister ever,” Katsuki muttered sarcastically. He cast a brief glance around the room before turning and walking away, his footsteps fading down the hall.

As soon as he was gone, Ochako let out a shaky breath, realizing she’d been holding it the whole time. Her heart was still racing, and she was pretty sure her cheeks were practically glowing.

“Ocha?” Mina’s voice pulled her back to reality. She turned to find both her friends staring at her. “You okay? You kind of zoned out there.”

“I’m fine,” Ochako lied, forcing a smile. “Just tired.”

“It’s only 6 p.m.,” Camie pointed out, raising an eyebrow.

“I’ve been working on a new sleep schedule,” Ochako said quickly. “You know, to prepare for finals.”

“Finals are two months away,” Mina said, laughing.

“Ashido, finals are in two weeks,” Ochako corrected her, giving Camie a look for confirmation.

“Yeah, they’ve been announcing it all week,” Camie added.

Mina’s face froze. “Wait, what?!”

“Have you not been studying?” Ochako asked, her voice tinged with concern.

“I’m gonna fail,” Mina groaned, throwing herself backward onto Camie’s bed with the kind of exaggerated despair only she could pull off.

“Stop being so dramatic. Just join me and my brother’s study sessions,” Camie said, rolling her eyes. “He’s a pain to deal with, but he knows his stuff.”

“I can help too,” Ochako offered. “I’ve been making flashcards and everything.”

“That’s sweet, Chako-chip, but Bakugou places above you every year, soooo...” Mina teased with a playful smirk.

“By one point,” Ochako muttered, crossing her arms.

“Still counts!” Mina laughed.

Ochako narrowed her eyes. “You can forget about me sharing my flashcards, then.”

“Wait! I was just joking, Chakoooo!” Mina wailed, latching onto Ochako’s arm dramatically.

“Mina, stop yelling or you’re gonna—” Camie began, but she was cut off by a sharp yell from downstairs.

“Girls, keep it down!” Camie’s mom shouted.

All three froze, then burst into laughter, trying and failing to stifle their giggles. The sound of their laughter filled the room as they settled back into the comforting chaos.

“Ugh, my brain hurts,” Mina groaned, dramatically crumpling her algebra paper into a ball and tossing it across the room.

“I’ve explained this fifteen times, Mina!” Ochako said, her frustration bubbling over. She rubbed her temples, feeling her patience start to wear thin.

“Doesn’t mean it makes sense,” Mina replied, crossing her arms and pouting like a stubborn toddler.

“Okay, maybe some snacks will help us focus,” Camie suggested, flopping onto her bed as if the effort of sitting up was too much.

“Yes! Snacks. Amazing. Hurry up and get them,” Mina said, her mood instantly flipping as she perked up.

“I don’t want to go all the way downstairs to get them,” Camie said, now sprawled out across her bed like a cat basking in the sun.

“Camie, it’s literally your house,” Mina deadpanned, glaring at her.

“Yeah, but you guys come over so often, it’s basically your house too. We’re basically family,” Camie said with a shrug, her argument as lazy as her posture.

The three exchanged knowing glances. Ochako’s heart sank—she already knew what was coming. It happened every single time no one wanted to take responsibility.

“NOT IT!” Mina and Camie shouted in unison.

“Ugh!” Ochako groaned, realizing she’d been too slow.

“Ha! Ochako has to do it!” Camie laughed, pointing at her triumphantly.

“You two are so lazy,” Ochako grumbled, dragging herself off the bed.

“You already know what chips to get me—oh, and get the ice cream out of the freezer too,” Camie called after her, waving lazily.

“You know what I like!” Mina added, stretching her arms above her head as if she’d accomplished something.

“Yeah, yeah,” Ochako mumbled, leaving the room with a sigh.

The stairs creaked under her weight as she descended into the dimly lit living room. The downstairs was quiet, the only light coming from the faint glow of the kitchen appliances. She fumbled against the wall, searching for the light switch, when she suddenly bumped into something—or someone.

“Ah!” Ochako gasped, stumbling back.

She looked up and felt her breath hitch. It was him. Katsuki Bakugou.

“Sorry!” she blurted, taking a hurried step back.

He stared at her, his crimson eyes sharp in the dim light. Without a word, he walked past her into the kitchen and flipped on the light.

“Think I found what you were looking for,” he said, his voice gruff but casual as he gestured to the now-lit room.

“Uh… yeah,” Ochako stammered, nodding quickly.

“What are you doing down here anyway?” he asked, opening the fridge and rummaging through its contents.

“Getting snacks for the other two,” she said, her voice shy and small.

He scoffed. “Wow, my sister couldn’t even get snacks for her own guests? How lazy is she?” he muttered, shaking his head.

Ochako didn’t respond. She just stood there, watching him. He was dressed in a gray and gold U.A. basketball jersey, his name emblazoned across the back, and a pair of matching basketball shorts. The fabric clung to him in a way that made her chest tighten.

“Do you… have a game today?” she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

He shot her a look, one corner of his mouth twitching upward in a smirk. “What does it look like, Cheeks?” he replied, grabbing a sports drink from the fridge.

Before she could say anything, he turned and walked out of the kitchen, leaving her standing there frozen.

Cheeks? Her mind repeated the word over and over. Why would he call her that?

After standing there aimlessly for a moment, she shook herself out of her daze, grabbed the chips and ice cream, and hurried back upstairs.

“FINALLY!” Mina exclaimed, practically diving at Ochako to grab her snacks.

“What took you so long?” Camie asked, reaching for her ice cream.

“I, uh… bumped into Bakugou,” Ochako admitted, a light blush creeping across her face as she set the snacks on the bed.

“I thought he went to his game already,” Camie said, raising an eyebrow as she peeled the lid off her ice cream.

“He… was just heading out, I guess,” Ochako said nervously, avoiding their gazes.

Mina paused mid-bite, her eyes narrowing. Camie, however, leaned in with a mischievous grin.

“Chako-chip,” Camie began, her voice dripping with suspicion, “do you… like Katsuki?”

“HUH?!” Ochako yelped, nearly dropping the bag of chips in her hands.

Mina grinned. “You’re totally blushing, Ocha. That’s a yes.”

“It’s not—! I mean—I don’t—!” Ochako stammered, her cheeks burning brighter with each word.

“Oh my gosh, you do like him,” Camie said, laughing and clapping her hands together. “I’ve known you forever, and I can see it. Don’t even try to deny it!”

“I-I’m going back to studying!” Ochako shouted, flustered, as she grabbed her algebra book and buried her face in it.

Camie and Mina exchanged knowing smirks but said nothing more, their giggles filling the room as Ochako tried desperately to focus on anything but the thought of Katsuki Bakugou and the word Cheeks.

Chapter Text

It was the final three seconds of the basketball game: U.A. vs. Shiketsu High. The tension in the air was palpable, the scoreboard showing a two-point deficit for U.A. The gym was electric, the roar of the crowd deafening. Ochako sat in the bleachers, her heart pounding as she cheered loudly, her eyes glued to Bakugou on the court.

The ball was inbounded, and the crowd began the countdown.

“Three!” they shouted as Bakugou took possession of the ball, dribbling up the court with speed and precision.

“Two!” He scanned the court, his sharp eyes darting between teammates, but no one was open.

“Shit,” he growled under his breath, the clock ticking down relentlessly.

“One!”

As the final number echoed through the gym, Bakugou launched the ball from half-court. Time seemed to slow as the ball soared through the air, and the gym fell silent. The buzzer blared just as the ball swished through the net, clean and perfect.

The crowd erupted into chaos. Cheers, screams, and chants of his name filled the room. Bakugou’s teammates rushed to him, shouting in celebration and patting him on the back, but his crimson eyes searched the bleachers.

When he found her, standing and clapping with the biggest smile on her face, he didn’t hesitate. Pushing past his teammates, he sprinted toward Ochako.

She froze, her heart racing as he reached her. Without a word, Bakugou scooped her up in a tight bear hug, spinning her around.

“You did it!” Ochako said, laughing as she held onto him, her cheeks flushed.

He grinned—a rare, genuine smile that lit up his face. “Yeah, we did,” he said before pulling her closer, leaning in—

“WAKE UP!”

Ochako jolted awake, the sound of Mina’s voice pulling her from her dream.

“OCHAKO, GET THE HELL UP!” Camie yelled, shaking her shoulder vigorously.

“Huh?” Ochako mumbled, blinking groggily as reality set in.

“WE’RE SO LATE FOR SCHOOL, DUMBASS!” Mina shouted, yanking her out of bed.

“Late for wha—OMG!” Ochako realized, panic setting in as she scrambled to get ready.

“You have eight minutes!” Camie said, pulling out an extra U.A. uniform from her closet and tossing it to Ochako.

The next eight minutes were pure chaos as the girls rushed around the room, brushing hair, stuffing supplies into backpacks, and slipping into their uniforms. By the time they bolted down the stairs and out the door, Bakugou and his mom, Mitsuki, were already waiting by the car.

“Took you ladies long enough,” Mitsuki said, leaning against the car with a smirk.

Bakugou rolled his eyes, muttering something under his breath as he opened the front passenger door.

“Sorry, Ochako overslept,” Mina said, hopping into the back seat.

“Yeah, I’m sorry,” Ochako added, following behind her.

The car was spacious—Mitsuki’s family was well-off, and the vehicle could easily fit six people. Once everyone was settled, Mitsuki started the engine.

“So, did you guys win yesterday?” Mina asked, leaning forward.

“Yeah,” Bakugou replied dryly, staring out the window.

“Wait, who’d you play against?” Camie asked, munching on a granola bar she’d swiped from the counter.

“Shiketsu,” Bakugou answered nonchalantly.

Ochako’s eyes widened. Her dream came rushing back.

“Isn’t that where Inasa goes?” Mina said with a sly smirk.

“Ugh, don’t remind me,” Camie groaned, slouching in her seat.

“What happened to that Inasa guy? I kinda liked him,” Mitsuki chimed in, glancing at them through the rearview mirror.

“He ghosted her,” Bakugou said, snickering.

“OW!” he yelped when Camie smacked the back of his head.

By the time they arrived at U.A., Ochako was nervously fidgeting with her bag. She didn’t share her first class with Mina or Camie—but she did share it with Bakugou. Since they’d arrived together, it made sense to walk with him, but it didn’t make the situation any less awkward.

The silence stretched between them as they walked toward their classroom. Ochako mustered her courage. “Good job yesterday, by the way,” she said, her voice a little shaky.

“Thanks,” Bakugou replied flatly, not looking at her.

“Shiketsu’s a tough school, and they—” Ochako started, but she was cut off by a loud voice.

“Bakubro!”

Eijiro Kirishima jogged up to them, his arm slinging around Bakugou’s shoulder.

“Get off me, shitty hair,” Bakugou grumbled, shoving Kirishima’s arm off.

“Anyways, Coach Toshinori wants us to have a team meeting fourth period,” Kirishima said, ignoring the glare Bakugou shot him.

“Fourth period? Tell him I can’t go,” Bakugou snapped, stopping in his tracks.

“Uh, you’re the team captain. Pretty sure you have to go,” Kirishima pointed out.

“I have a test for that class tomorrow, and the teacher’s giving out important info,” Bakugou said, crossing his arms.

Ochako hesitated but decided to speak up. “Uh, excuse me,” she said softly, and both boys turned to look at her. “You have Mr. Aizawa fourth period, right?”

Bakugou nodded, raising an eyebrow.

“I can take notes for you and give them to Camie to pass along,” she offered, her voice growing quieter under their gaze.

Kirishima grinned. “See? The cute brunette wants to help you out, so just tell Coach you’ll go.”

Ochako’s heart skipped a beat. Cute?

Bakugou’s eyes flicked over her briefly, studying her. Then, without another word, he turned and started walking toward the classroom.

“Don’t screw me over, Pink Cheeks,” he said, his voice low but clear as he left them behind.

Ochako stood frozen for a moment, her face bright red. Pink Cheeks?!

Kirishima laughed and patted her shoulder. “Don’t mind him. That’s just how he is.”

Ochako nodded, still reeling as she followed them into the classroom, her thoughts a whirlwind of confusion and budding hope.

When the lecture ended, Ochako carefully capped her highlighter and reviewed her notes, feeling oddly proud of the result. As students began filing out, she hesitated by her desk. Should she give him the notes now or wait until later?

“Pink Cheeks,” a familiar gruff voice called, snapping her out of her thoughts.

She looked up to see Bakugou standing by the door, his bag slung over one shoulder and an impatient look on his face.

“You done standing there like an idiot, or what?” he asked.

Ochako scrambled to grab the notes from her desk and held them out to him, her fingers trembling slightly. “Here! I, uh, highlighted the important parts for you.”

Bakugou took the papers, his rough fingers brushing against hers for a brief moment. His eyes scanned the notes, his expression unreadable.

“Not bad,” he muttered, shoving the papers into his bag.

Ochako’s heart skipped a beat. Was that… a compliment?

“Thanks,” he added, almost as an afterthought.

She blinked. “Oh! You’re welcome!”

He raised an eyebrow, smirking slightly. “Don’t think this makes us study buddies or some shit.”

Before Ochako could respond, Kirishima appeared out of nowhere, slapping Bakugou on the back.

“Yo, Bakubro!” Kirishima said, grinning. “Coach says we’ve got drills after school today to prep for the tournament.”

Bakugou scowled, shrugging Kirishima’s hand off. “Yeah, I know. What do you think I’m wearing this stupid jersey for?”

“Always so cheerful,” Kirishima teased, earning a glare.

Ochako watched the exchange with a small smile. Despite Bakugou’s rough exterior, it was clear he and Kirishima had a strong bond.

As the two boys headed out, Kirishima turned back and waved. “Thanks for helping with the notes, Ochako! You’re a lifesaver!”

“Uh, no problem!” she called after them, her cheeks flushing.

*

*

As the afternoon sun cast warm light through the library’s tall windows, Ochako sat with her friends, Mina and Camie, at a cluttered table tucked into a quiet corner. The pile of textbooks, notebooks, and scattered highlighters in front of them looked like the aftermath of an academic battle.

Mina was sprawled dramatically across the table, a pencil dangling between her fingers. “I swear, this algebra is a trap designed to expose how stupid I really am,” she groaned.

Ochako chuckled, flipping through her own math notes. “It’s not a trap, Mina. You’re overcomplicating it. Here, let me show you again.”

“You’ve already shown me, like, ten times!” Mina whined. She pushed the paper away, sitting up straight and folding her arms. “I just don’t think math and I are meant to be.”

Camie, sipping a juice box like it was a gourmet cocktail, smirked. “More like you’re not meant to actually study. You’ve been in drama queen mode since we started.”

“Excuse you!” Mina shot back, but she couldn’t help laughing.

Ochako sighed, setting her pencil down. “Okay, maybe we all need a quick break. Snacks and some fresh air could help.”

“No!” Mina exclaimed. “If I stop now, I’ll never come back to this torture. We press on!”

Camie raised an eyebrow. “Fine, drama queen. But while we’re here, let’s focus on something more interesting. Like Chako-chip’s very obvious crush on my brother.”

Ochako froze mid-reach for her water bottle. Her wide eyes darted between her friends. “Wh-what? I don’t—”

“Oh, don’t even try to deny it,” Mina said, grinning. “The way you lit up when you said you’d take notes for him? You’re totally into him.”

Ochako’s face flushed a deep red. “That’s ridiculous! I was just being helpful! He needed the notes, and I was already taking them, so it just made sense.”

Camie leaned back in her chair, her smirk growing. “Sure, sure. And the fact that you’ve been staring off into space since this morning has nothing to do with Katsuki, huh?”

“Exactly!” Mina said, nodding eagerly. “And don’t forget how red your face got when he called you ‘Pink Cheeks.’ That’s not just a nickname; that’s flirting.”

Ochako groaned, covering her face with her hands. “You two are impossible. Why are you even bringing this up?”

“Because it’s fun,” Camie said with a wink.

“And because we care about you,” Mina added, nudging Ochako’s arm. “Come on, Chako. Just admit it—you like him, don’t you?”

Ochako hesitated, her hands slowly lowering. “It’s not that simple,” she admitted quietly.

“Why not?” Camie pressed.

Ochako sighed, her fingers fidgeting with the edge of her notebook. “Because he’s… him. He’s Katsuki Bakugou. He’s loud and confident and always knows what he wants. He’s practically fearless. And then there’s me. I’m just… average. I overthink everything, I’m not nearly as brave as he is, and I don’t stand out like he does. We’re complete opposites.”

Camie tilted her head, considering this. “So? Opposites attract, don’t they?”

“It’s not just that,” Ochako continued, her voice growing softer. “He’s way out of my league. He’s popular, athletic, and… well, Bakugou. He could have anyone he wanted, and I’m just… me.”

Mina leaned forward, resting her chin on her hands. “Okay, first of all, stop putting yourself down. You’re amazing, Ochako. You’re smart, kind, and super hardworking. And second, Katsuki’s not as untouchable as you think. He’s just a guy. A loud, explosive guy, sure, but still just a guy.”

Camie nodded. “And you’ve known him for years, Chako. That counts for something. He’s probably more comfortable around you than half the people who throw themselves at him.”

“Besides,” Mina added with a sly grin, “he called you ‘Pink Cheeks.’ That’s practically a love confession coming from him.”

Ochako laughed despite herself. “I highly doubt that.”

“Don’t sell yourself short,” Camie said. “You’ve got more of a chance than you think.”

Ochako looked between her friends, her chest tightening with both doubt and a small glimmer of hope. “Even if I did like him,” she said hesitantly, “how would I even know if he feels the same way?”

Mina shrugged. “You won’t know unless you put yourself out there. But for now, you’re doing great. Helping him with those notes is a good start. Just take things one step at a time.”

The conversation shifted back to studying after that, but Ochako couldn’t stop thinking about what her friends had said. Maybe they were right. Maybe her differences from Bakugou weren’t a bad thing.

As she scribbled more practice problems in her notebook, a small part of her began to wonder if she could ever muster the courage to find out what Bakugou really thought of her. 

Chapter Text

“It doesn’t even matter if I have a chance or not because I don’t like him,” Ochako blurts out, breaking the focused silence of their study session.

Mina, who had been idly twirling her pencil, smirks instantly. “Denial is a river in Egypt, babe,” she quips, dramatically tossing another crumpled-up algebra worksheet into the trash.

“And she is swimming in it,” Camie adds, snickering.

Ochako scoffs, crossing her arms. “Yeah? Well, you two are practically drowning in a sea of failing grades.”

The laughter stops abruptly. Mina and Camie’s jaws drop in offense as they gasp in unison. “Hey!” they protest.

Ochako shrugs with a giggle, enjoying the rare moment of having the upper hand.

That is, until Camie suddenly smacks her lightly on the back of the head. “OW!” Ochako yelps, rubbing the sore spot. “HEY! You two can kiss my tutoring services goodbye!” She sticks her tongue out playfully.

“Wait, Chako, nooo!” Mina drags out dramatically, clutching her heart like she’s just been fatally wounded.

“Ladies, keep the noise down,” the librarian scolds, standing nearby with her hands on her hips.

All three of them jolt upright, bowing quickly in apology. “Sorry!” they say in perfect synchronization.

As soon as the librarian walks away, they break into giggles, their whispers barely containing their amusement.

“Jeez, we really gotta work on being more mindful,” Camie snickers, shaking her head.

“Eh, not like you guys willingly come to the library,” Ochako teases as they pack up their books and start heading for the exit.

Mina narrows her eyes. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“You know exactly what it means, Mimi,” Ochako says with a wicked grin before sprinting ahead.

Mina’s eyes widen in horror. “Oh, no you didn’t—”

Before she can finish, she bolts after Ochako.

Camie groans dramatically as she tries to keep up. “Ugh, you guys know I can’t run that fast!”

But Ochako doesn’t stop. She keeps running, giggling as Mina’s frustrated shouts grow closer. Turning a corner at full speed, she doesn’t have time to react when she suddenly slams into something—or rather, someone.

A very firm, very warm someone.

She stumbles backward, blinking in surprise, and looks up—straight into the sharp crimson eyes of Katsuki Bakugou.

“What the hell, Cheeks?” he grumbles, reaching out instinctively to steady her as she wobbles.

Ochako’s brain short-circuits. Her heart hammers against her ribs as she realizes her hands are pressed against his chest. He’s warm—really warm—and he’s looking down at her with that usual scowl of his, but there’s something almost… amused in his expression.

“I-I—SORRY, BAKUGOU! I WAS—I WAS RUNNING AND WASN’T PAYING ATTENTION AND THEN ALL OF A—”

His hand clamps over her mouth, silencing her rambling instantly. Her eyes widen at the sudden contact.

“Calm the hell down, Cheeks. It’s not like you stabbed me or something,” he says, shaking his head before slowly lowering his hand.

Ochako nods stiffly, her face heating up for entirely too many reasons. That stupid nickname, the way he’s looking at her, the fact that she just collided into him like an idiot—ugh, why is she like this?!

Bakugou, still eyeing her suspiciously, steps a little closer. “You good?”

“I’m fine! Just… really hot right now.”

He frowns, scanning her up and down before rolling his eyes. “Tch. Whatever.”

Before she can say anything else, Mina’s voice pierces the air.

“URARAKA!!”

Ochako jolts like she’s been electrocuted. “Eek!”

Mina and Camie come barreling around the corner, panting like they just ran a marathon.

“Guys… ugh… why do you run so fast?” Camie wheezes, clutching the wall dramatically.

Bakugou raises an unimpressed eyebrow. “Jeez, Cam, how unathletic are you?”

Camie glares, still trying to catch her breath. “Hey, not everyone gets, like, twenty Division 1 sports offers, okay?” she huffs.

Bakugou just shrugs. His eyes shift back to Ochako, but before he can say anything, he notices that Mina has tackled her to the ground, the two of them now engaged in some kind of chaotic floor battle.

He stares. “The hell…?”

Camie just laughs, watching the mess unfold. “Eh, they’re fine. This happens every time Ocha wants to be a smart-ass.”

Bakugou shakes his head. “Good luck with that,” he mutters, turning to walk away. “And don’t be late when the hag comes,” he calls over his shoulder.

“Not so nice to talk about our mother like that!” Camie snickers.

Bakugou just flips her off without turning around.

Camie sticks her tongue out in retaliation, even though she knows he can’t see it.

Once she’s done laughing, she turns her attention back to the two girls still tangled on the ground. “Okay, you two, break it up.” She hauls them apart with minimal effort, and they get to their feet, laughing breathlessly.

As they head towards the shoe lockers, Mina nudges Ochako with a knowing smirk. “Sooo… what were you and Mr. All-Star Athlete talking about before we so rudely interrupted?”

“Oh, you mean before you ambushed me?” Ochako retorts.

“Yes, exactly.”

Ochako sighs, adjusting the strap of her bag as a light blush dusts her cheeks. “It wasn’t much. I just, uh… bumped into him while running, and he asked if I was okay after I stopped rambling like an idiot. Then he asked where you two were.”

Mina and Camie exchange glances, their grins growing.

“That’s another step closer,” Mina whispers giddily before skipping ahead to her locker.

“I do not like him!” Ochako yells after her.

Camie just shakes her head in amusement. “Looks like she’s drowning in that river now,” she teases, following behind.

Ochako groans, dragging her hands down her face. “Please stoppp,” she whines.

But as much as she wants to deny it, she can’t ignore the way her heart still hasn’t stopped racing.

Chapter Text

“When we get back to my house, we’re gonna start working on chemistry,” Camie announces as they weave through the crowded school parking lot, dodging moving cars and students who clearly don’t care if they get run over.

“Seriously? We just stayed after school to study—who does that?!” Mina groans dramatically, dragging her feet like she’s physically in pain. “This should be illegal.”

Ochako giggles, patting her on the back. “Cheer up, Mina. If you pass finals, you won’t have summer school again.”

Camie smirks. “Yeah, ‘cause having summer school after your final year of high school? That would suck.”

“You’re not that far from ending up where she is,” Bakugou chimes in, shoving his hands in his pockets with a smirk.

Camie gasps, feigning offense. “Excuse me? At least I don’t have a permanent scowl on my face.”

“Maybe if you paid attention in class instead of swiping on Tinder, you wouldn’t be one failed test away from Mina’s tragic fate,” Bakugou quips.

“Hey!” Mina whines, shoving him.

Ochako laughs, but before she can add to the teasing, Camie winds up and smacks the back of Bakugou’s head.

“OW—Jesus fuck, stop doing that!” he growls, rubbing the sore spot.

Camie just grins, sticking her tongue out at him. Bakugou rolls his eyes, grumbling under his breath, but Ochako notices something else.

For a moment—a split second really—his gaze flickers to her.

It’s brief, but something about it makes her stomach flip. It’s not his usual glares, the ones laced with irritation or competitiveness. This is different. Intense. Curious. Like he’s studying her.

Her face heats up instantly. She quickly looks away, pretending she didn’t notice. Maybe I’m imagining things.

“Oh my god, Mom, why did you park so far?” Camie groans when she finally spots the car.

“I was not about to wait in that long-ass line of cars just to get a closer spot,” Mitsuki scoffs from behind the wheel, drumming her fingers against it impatiently.

Bakugou clicks his tongue and makes a beeline for the front seat, but Camie dashes ahead, cutting him off.

“Not so fast!” she grins victoriously, yanking the door open. “I got shotgun.”

“What the hell?! You’re the one with guests—you should be sitting with them,” Bakugou snaps.

“We’re not guests; we’re family,” Mina says with a proud nod.

“I would rather die than be related to you, Pinky.” He flips her off without even looking.

“Hey!” Mina gasps, clutching her chest like he physically wounded her.

Ochako giggles, but this time, she can’t ignore it. The way Bakugou keeps looking at her.

She doesn’t know why—but every time she laughs, he notices. His eyes linger. Just for a second. It’s subtle, but it’s enough to make her stomach feel weirdly light.

“No need to be so rude,” Mina pouts as she climbs into the car.

Bakugou just shrugs, sliding in next to her. Ochako hesitates for a moment before getting in as well. And that’s when it hits her.

She’s going to be sitting next to him.

The entire car ride back.

She swallows thickly, sliding into the seat beside him as casually as possible, but her body betrays her. She’s hyper-aware of everything. The way his arm barely brushes against hers when he shifts. The faint scent of his cologne mixed with sweat from practice. The heat radiating off him because of how close they are.

Oh my god, why am I acting like this?

“You good, Cheeks?” His voice is low, a little amused.

“I-I’m good!” she blurts out, turning toward the window so fast she practically gives herself whiplash.

Mina snickers beside her.

“Katsuki, I need to know how many of your little friends are coming to this party tonight,” Mitsuki says, making a sharp turn that nearly sends Ochako into Bakugou’s shoulder.

“Party?!” Mina’s eyes widen in excitement.

“Oh yeah, since they beat Shiketsu yesterday, they’re throwing a party,” Camie says, scrolling through her phone. “Don’t know why it has to be at our house, knowing Mina and Chako are sleeping over.” She shoots Bakugou a glare through the rearview mirror.

“Don’t care,” he says flatly. “And there’s gonna be like… thirty people.”

“THIRTY?” Mitsuki nearly slams on the brakes. “You little—”

“PAY ATTENTION TO THE ROAD, HAG!” Bakugou snaps.

“DON’T YOU TALK TO ME LIKE THAT, KATSUKI!” she yells back.

“LIKE I CARE!”

And just like that, they’re full-on screaming at each other.

But Mina, Camie, and Ochako? They don’t even blink.

At this point, Mitsuki and Bakugou’s wars were as common as the weather. There was no reason to get involved. Ochako just sighs in relief when they finally pull into the driveway.

She quickly unbuckles, eager to get out of the confined space, but as she steps out, her arm brushes against Bakugou’s.

And—for the third time that day—they freeze.

It’s just a touch. Barely even noticeable. But it makes her breath hitch.

They’re close. Too close.

Her heart does a weird little flip, but she ignores it, tilting her head up to meet his gaze.

And—oh.

He’s looking at her again.

His expression is unreadable. Not annoyed, not angry, not his usual glare. It’s something else.

Ochako hesitates before giving him a small, hesitant smile, a soft blush warming her cheeks.

But he doesn’t react. No smirk, no teasing remark, no playful insult. He just stares at her for a beat too long before abruptly looking away and walking off like nothing happened.

Her smile falters slightly.

Was I imagining everything?

“Chako?” Camie’s voice snaps her out of her thoughts.

“You coming in, or are you just gonna stand there like a statue?” Mina teases, mimicking her frozen stance.

Ochako shakes off the weird feeling, laughing as she follows them inside.

She tells herself she’s imagining things.

But deep down, she knows she’s not.

but When Camie asks if she actually wants to go to the party Bakugou is hosting instead of just hiding in her room all night, Ochako feels conflicted.

Did he even want her there?

It wasn’t like she needed an official invitation—she was already staying over at their house, and Camie was her best friend. But still, the idea of walking into a party he was throwing made her stomach twist.

“I’ve never been to a party before,” Ochako mumbles, her face buried in the comforter of Camie’s bed.

“Oh, come on, Ocha, it’s gonna be so fun,” Mina whines, already trying to drag her up by the arm.

“We’ll be with you the whole night,” Camie reassures her, sitting cross-legged on the bed beside her.

Ochako groans, resisting Mina’s grip. “But isn’t everyone there gonna be, like, crazy popular and attractive and cool and just…more fun to be around than me?” she says dramatically, flopping onto her back.

Mina scoffs. “Oh my gosh, Ochako, you don’t have to be popular to go to a party.”

“That’s what the movies say,” Ochako argues, crossing her arms.

“This is real life, Chako-chip.” Camie smirks, pulling the pillow off her face.

Ochako exhales. “I don’t have anything to wear anyways.”

Camie gasps, placing a hand on her chest as if offended. “That’s not a problem. You forget—I have the best wardrobe at this school.”

“Oh! And we can do another makeover!” Mina claps excitedly, already digging through Camie’s makeup bag.

“Wait—I never said—” Ochako starts, but before she can finish, Mina yanks her off the bed and shoves her into the vanity chair.

“Don’t fight art, Ochako,” Mina says with a mischievous grin.

From across the room, Camie lets out a high-pitched squeal. “Oh my God, I have the perfect outfit!” She disappears into her closet.

Ochako groans, squirming as Mina starts applying primer to her face. “Why do I have to dress up if we’re just going downstairs?”

“Still gotta look good at a party. And your man is gonna be there,” Mina teases, wiggling her eyebrows.

“Not my man,” Ochako mutters, rolling her eyes.

“Yet.” Mina smirks as she uncaps a bottle of foundation, finding the perfect shade for Ochako’s skin tone. “Perfect,” she says as she starts blending it onto Ochako’s face.

Ochako sighs, already accepting her fate. There was no getting out of this now.

When Mina finishes the makeup and Camie finally emerges with an outfit, Ochako stares at herself in the full-length mirror.

“Damn,” Camie says, hands on her hips.

“We are so good,” Mina grins, giving Camie a high-five.

All three of them matched, each wearing the same type of dress in different colors. Camie’s was a soft butter yellow, Mina’s a pastel pink, and Ochako’s a crisp, elegant white. The dresses weren’t too long, but not overly short either, and they showed just enough cleavage to be flattering without making Ochako feel overexposed.

As she studies her reflection, Mina suddenly squints and reaches for her face.

“Wait a second,” she says, then swiftly plucks Ochako’s glasses off her nose.

“Huh?” Ochako blinks up at her, confused.

“Aww, I like her with her glasses,” Camie pouts.

“She looks good either way, but trust me, just put these in,” Mina says, handing Ochako a case of contact lenses.

It takes a bit of struggling, some blinking, and more than a few frustrated groans, but eventually, she gets them in. When she looks up again, she almost doesn’t recognize herself.

The girl in the mirror is…different. Confident.

“Well, let’s go,” Camie says, taking Ochako’s hand.

And with that, they step out of the room—ready for the night ahead.

As Ochako steps into the crowded party, the atmosphere immediately overwhelms her. The music pulses through the floorboards, neon lights flash in dizzying patterns, and laughter mixes with the distant clinking of drinks. She grips her cup of soda tightly, sticking close to Camie and Mina like a lifeline.

Then, she spots him.

Bakugou.

He’s across the room, leaning against the wall with his usual confidence, deep in conversation with Kirishima and a few of the other guys. His messy blond hair catches the dim light, sharp jawline accentuated by the shadows. Even in something as simple as a fitted black T-shirt and ripped jeans, he somehow manages to look effortlessly cool.

He hasn’t noticed her yet.

Ochako debates turning around, slipping back upstairs before he does. But before she can make a decision, his gaze flickers up—right at her.

And he freezes.

For a split second, something unspoken passes over his expression. Surprise? Confusion? Maybe even interest? But just as quickly, his features harden again, and he looks away like nothing happened.

Mina and Camie definitely notice.

“Oooh, he looked at you,” Mina sing-songs, elbowing her in the side.

“That’s a reaction if I’ve ever seen one,” Camie smirks, sipping her drink.

Ochako shakes her head, feeling her face heat up. Did he even recognize me?

She forces herself to focus on having fun, letting the energy of the party pull her in. She dances with her friends, lets herself laugh, and for once, she isn’t overthinking everything. But just as she’s about to grab another soda from the kitchen, she bumps into someone—hard.

Strong hands catch her shoulders before she stumbles.

“The hell are you doin’?”

Her breath catches. She already knows before she even looks up.

Bakugou.

They stare at each other again, his hands lingering on her arms a little too long before he lets go and steps back. His red eyes flicker over her face—her makeup, her dress, the absence of her glasses.

“You…” He pauses. “You look… different.”

Her heart stutters. “Uh… good different or bad different?”

He scoffs, looking away. “Dunno. Just different.”

Ochako doesn’t know how to respond to that, but before she can figure it out, someone calls his name from across the room. Without another word, he turns and walks away.

She exhales sharply, chest tightening.

Does she even belong here? Does he even care?

Before she can spiral too far, Mina and Camie appear at her sides, determined to keep her from overthinking.

Because the night isn’t over yet.

And neither is whatever is brewing between her and Bakugou.

“SPIN THE BOTTLE TIME!”

A voice cuts through the party, drawing attention. Ochako turns to see a familiar blond with black streaks in his hair grinning wildly. Kaminari.

“Wait… wha—” Ochako starts, but before she can protest, Mina grabs her wrist and pulls her into the forming circle of teens.

“I can’t do this, Mina,” Ochako whispers urgently.

Mina just grins. “It’s fine! You don’t even have to kiss anyone if you don’t want to.”

Ochako glances around, searching for Camie, and spots her in a conversation with some blonde guy from Class 1-B. She looks like she’s having fun.

Kaminari claps his hands together. “Okay, so I assume we all know the rules to spin the bottle—but I changed it up a bit.”

“Hurry up with it, dunce face,” Bakugou grumbles from his spot in the circle.

Ochako stiffens. He’s playing too?

Kaminari rolls his eyes. “Anyway—if the bottle lands on you, you either kiss the person or you take a spoonful of this.” He pulls a bottle of hot sauce from his pocket with a dramatic flourish.

Kirishima raises an eyebrow. “Dude… do you just carry hot sauce with you?”

“Not the point,” Kaminari says quickly, placing the bottle down and sitting in the circle.

Ochako watches nervously as the game begins. One by one, the bottle spins, landing on different pairs—each of them choosing the kiss without hesitation. Mina’s turn comes, and when the bottle stops on Kirishima, their kiss lasts a little too long.

Ochako already knows what’s going to happen between them after the game.

But then—it’s her turn.

She swallows hard as she reaches for the bottle, feeling every eye in the circle on her. The glass spins, round and round, before slowly… finally… stopping.

On him.

Bakugou.

Her breath catches in her throat as she slowly lifts her gaze.

He stares at her.

The room feels smaller, the music muffled. She doesn’t know what he’s thinking, but something in his expression makes her stomach flip.

A small part of her wants to kiss him. Deep down, she wants to know what it would feel like—to close that impossible distance between them.

But realistically? She isn’t ready for this. She isn’t ready for her first kiss to be like this.

For a long moment, they just sit there. Waiting.

Then, without a word, Bakugou reaches for the hot sauce.

Ochako feels her heart sink.

And just like that—she knows exactly how he truly feels.

Chapter Text

"AIR BALL!" Kaminari shouts, his voice loud and mocking, causing a round of laughter from everyone in the circle.

Kirishima, shaking his head with an amused look, slaps Kaminari lightly on the back of the neck. "Dude," he says, trying to hide his smile.

Ochako, still feeling the eyes of the circle on her, laughs awkwardly. "Pfft, good one, Kaminari. Oh my god, that’s embarrassing," she says, trying to cover up her discomfort with a laugh that’s more forced than real. The others chuckle along with her, but Ochako can’t quite feel the fun in the moment.

The game continues, but all she can focus on is the attention. Her gaze drifts to the bottle, spinning again, the laughter around her slowly blurring into a background hum. And she finds herself longing for escape, a chance to breathe.

Then, the bottle lands on someone, and they lean in for a kiss, and that’s it. This is her chance.

Ochako doesn’t wait for anyone to notice—she stands up quickly, her legs a little shaky from the nerves, and murmurs something about needing the bathroom. She moves through the crowd, bumping into people left and right, her head spinning with the weight of everything.

"Sorry! Excuse me!" she mumbles, trying to navigate through the bodies and faces, but she doesn’t hear any of their responses. She only hears the loud, heavy thump of her own heartbeat.

By the time she reaches the bathroom, her mascara has started to streak down her face, and her eyes are burning from the tears she’s been trying to hold back all night.

She slams the door behind her, the sound sharp in the quiet bathroom.

Standing in front of the mirror, she finally lets herself break. Her breath comes in shaky gasps as she stares at herself—at the girl in the reflection, the one with the fancy makeup, the dress she never thought she'd wear, the one who changed herself for someone who might not even care.

That girl wasn’t even her.

The face staring back at her was so different—she could barely recognize herself. The eyes that had once been filled with carefree joy were now clouded with doubt, confusion, and a pain she didn’t know how to process.

She did this for him.

Bakugou.

A guy she had liked since she was twelve. A guy who didn’t even know the depths of her feelings. A guy who, in this moment, might not even care.

A guy who was the older brother of her best friend—someone she would have to see every day, no matter what happened tonight.

She wanted to go home. She wanted to crawl into bed, let the night pass, and forget this whole stupid night ever happened. She wanted to let it out in her pillow, where no one could see her tears.

A soft knock on the bathroom door interrupts her spiraling thoughts.

"Chako?" Camie’s voice comes through, gentle and soft. "It’s me, and Mina."

Ochako doesn’t say anything. She just reaches for the door handle, unlocking it without meeting their eyes.

The moment the door opens, Mina and Camie are on her, pulling her into a tight hug. The warm, comforting pressure of their embrace makes her realize how badly she needed it.

Mina pulls away first, grabbing makeup wipes from her bag. "Let’s get you cleaned up, sweetie," she says, her voice soothing.

Camie frowns, clearly worried. "What happened? I was talking to Monoma, and Mina comes running up to me saying you ran off crying."

Ochako doesn’t answer, her voice caught in her throat. She just stands there, feeling utterly exposed.

Mina pats Ochako’s shoulder gently, guiding her toward the sink where she can wipe off her makeup. "It’s okay, Chako. Let it out."

Mina doesn’t wait for Ochako to speak. Instead, she gently explains what happened. "It’s about Bakugou," she says quietly.

Camie’s jaw drops in shock. "Wait. Seriously? He… rejected you?"

Ochako winces at the word "rejected." It cuts deeper than she thought it would. She shakes her head quickly, her voice shaky as she speaks. "It’s fine, Camie. Don’t make a big deal about it."

But Camie isn’t letting it go that easily. She paces around the bathroom, trying to process everything. "No. This is a big deal, Ochako. You matter, okay? If that jerk didn’t get it, then that’s his problem."

Ochako feels a weight settle on her chest. She wants to tell her that it’s not about him—not really. It’s about her, and the way she feels like she’ll never be enough. But all she says is, "It’s just his choice. He doesn’t have to kiss anyone if he doesn’t want to. He doesn’t even know I like him, and it’s obvious he doesn’t like me back." She forces herself to stand straighter, wiping the last of the tears away. "I’ll get over it. It’s just a stupid crush."

Mina, always the one to crack a joke, tries to lighten the mood. "You know what they say—don’t fall in love with the emotionally unavailable popular guy."

But her joke falls flat.

There’s a long, painful silence. Camie looks at Ochako with a mix of sadness and frustration, while Mina just sighs and steps back.

"Not the time. Got it," she mutters, and it feels like the weight of it all is hanging in the air.

Ochako doesn’t know what to say, but she doesn’t have to. Her friends are there. Camie links her arm through Ochako’s, while Mina grabs her other arm, and together, they help her walk back to Camie’s room.

They don’t say much on the way, but the quiet support of their presence makes her feel less alone.

And maybe, just maybe, that’s enough for now.

At first, Bakugou brushes it off. Who cares if she left? It’s not like she owed him anything or he owed her anything. But as the game continues, his thoughts keep wandering back to where she was sitting. He doesn’t know why he even cares, but his eyes keep flicking to that empty spot in the circle. Every time he glances that way, it feels like something’s off. And then he notices Mina and Camie slipping away too, and for the first time tonight, he starts piecing things together.

He doesn’t know what it is, but something’s gnawing at him now. He tells himself it’s not his problem—that she’s free to do whatever she wants, and if she wants to leave, fine. But why does it feel like he’s the one who’s messed something up? He tries to ignore the discomfort bubbling in his gut, but it’s there, persistent.

The game goes on, but he can’t stop thinking about it. He replays that moment over and over in his head—her face, the way she laughed but it didn’t quite reach her eyes, the way she practically bolted out of the room. And that pisses him off. Not at her—he doesn’t want to be pissed at her. He’s pissed at himself. Why the hell does he care?

The game finally finishes, and Bakugou feels relieved when the bottle doesn’t land on him again. He stands up, hoping to get some space from the crowded room, and heads to the kitchen for a drink. But then, as he rounds the corner, he sees them. Mina, Camie, and Ochako walking toward the stairs, heads down, talking quietly among themselves.

His gaze locks on hers, and for a split second, time feels like it slows. He can’t help it. Their eyes meet, and he notices the way her face is flushed, how her eyes are red around the edges. The room is dim, but the smudge of mascara under her eyes is too obvious to miss. And suddenly, all those questions he didn’t want to face come crashing into his brain.

Was that because of me?

His chest tightens as he wonders if his rejection—his unwillingness to kiss her earlier—actually hurt her. He can’t fathom why it would matter so much to her. She didn’t even seem like the type to care about that sort of thing, right? She seemed out of place here, like she didn’t even want to be at the party. So why would she care if he didn’t kiss her?

It’s too confusing. She’s always been confusing.

He never thought about her like that before—like that, as in, more than his best friend’s little sister. But then why was it bothering him so much now? Why was her being there—her—making him so damn uncomfortable?

And what the hell was up with how he reacted when she asked how she looked? She looked amazing. It was hard not to notice, but he could never admit that to her face. Hell, she even looked good without the makeup. What the hell was he even thinking about her for? This was not just a stupid crush—right?

His thoughts are interrupted by a voice that makes his blood boil.

"Hey, Bakugou," Sero calls out, approaching him with Kaminari and Kirishima in tow.

"What the hell do you want?" Bakugou snaps, trying to avoid making eye contact with them. They’re always so damn persistent.

Kirishima throws his arm around Bakugou’s shoulder, his grin wide. "Just a bundle of joy, aren’t you?" he teases.

"Piss off, shitty hair," Bakugou growls, shrugging him off, but Kirishima just laughs it off like it’s nothing.

"Real talk, man," Sero cuts in, his tone shifting. "Why’d you take the hot sauce? I mean, yeah, she’s a bit of a nerd, but come on, man. She’s a sweet piece of candy, you know?" He smirks, clearly pleased with his own comment. "To fumble something like that... jeez."

Bakugou’s grip on his drink tightens, his blood boiling. He doesn’t like the way Sero talks about Ochako—like she’s just some object. She’s more than that, way more. He doesn’t get what’s so hard to understand about that.

"I mean, she is really cute, but also super awkward," Kaminari chimes in, shrugging as if he’s just making an observation. "Kinda funny to see her get all nervous."

"Can you morons shut the hell up?" Bakugou snaps, his irritation building. Why do they always talk about her like she’s just some pretty face to gawk at? He’s not going to let them reduce her to that.

Sero, of course, doesn’t back down. "Gotta hand it to you, though. That air ball joke was hilarious." He grins, trying to lighten the mood.

Kaminari laughs too, but Bakugou just scoffs in response. He can’t deal with this right now—not with them, not with the way his thoughts are racing. They’re too damn persistent, always digging at something that’s just not their business.

He can’t stop thinking about Ochako though. Not tonight. Not after everything that’s happened.

And for the first time, Bakugou’s not so sure about where he stands when it comes to her. He doesn’t want to feel anything more than he already does, but it’s there. Something’s there, and no matter how hard he tries to ignore it, he can’t escape it.

She’s always been there—always—but now... now things are different.

Chapter Text

“I’m never showing myself in public again,” Ochako groans, her face buried into the soft fabric of the bed.

“Ocha, stop sulking, it’s been a whole hour,” Camie says, wiping off the remnants of her makeup in front of the mirror.

“You don’t understand,” Ochako whines, voice muffled. “He was the only one that took the hot sauce, Camie.” The humiliation is still fresh, stinging worse than she thought possible.

Mina, having had enough of her friend’s self-pity, grabs Ochako by the arm and pulls her up to sit. “So what?” Mina says, looking her dead in the eyes. “You need to keep your head up, Chako. You looked so hot today, and you’re gonna let some guy spoil it?”

“He’s not just some guy,” Ochako sighs, rubbing her temples. “He’s Camie’s brother, and I’m at their house. Do you understand how awkward this is?”

“I know he’s my brother,” Camie says, now pulling her hair into a messy bun, “but I still think you’re overthinking this.”

Ochako lets out another deep sigh. “Great, so you understand the embarrassment.”

Camie rolls her eyes and leans against the dresser. “Ochako, Katsuki isn’t the affectionate type. We all know that. He’s most likely never even had his first kiss before. Maybe he got nervous.”

Ochako lets out a dry laugh. “Come on, you think the Bakugou Katsuki hasn’t kissed anyone before?”

Mina hums, leaning against the bed frame. “Jeez, Chako, you really glaze him a lot.”

“I know, it makes me sick,” Camie groans dramatically, pretending to gag.

Ochako grabs a pillow and throws it at her. “I’m just saying! He’s popular, and the man goes to a party every weekend. I doubt he hasn’t kissed anyone yet.”

Camie shrugs. “He hates going to parties. Kiri always convinces him to go. He’s actually really antisocial if you think about it.”

Ochako walks over to grab some makeup wipes from Camie’s vanity, but before she can start cleaning off the smudged mascara, there’s a knock on the door. Mina, being closest, opens it.

“Speak of the devil,” Camie whispers, elbowing Ochako, who immediately looks away.

Ochako feels his presence before she even looks up. She swears she can feel his gaze burning into her, and it makes her stomach tighten.

“What do you want, Kat?” Camie asks, unimpressed.

Bakugou shifts his weight, his eyes flickering to Ochako before looking away. “Shitty Hair wants to talk to Pinkie.”

Mina tilts her head. “Shitty Hair?”

Bakugou rolls his eyes, as if it should be obvious. “Fucking Kirishima. The redhead you made out with.”

Mina chokes on air as Camie’s smirk widens. “Ooooh, Mina, you didn’t tell me about this.”

“Shut up!” Mina squeaks before practically sprinting out of the room.

Camie snickers. “Aww, she’s too adorable.”

Bakugou doesn’t move. His gaze lingers on Ochako, and she doesn’t dare look up. Her fingers tighten around the makeup wipe, and she hates how badly her hands are trembling.

“Can you leave?” Camie deadpans.

His red eyes flicker to Ochako one last time before he finally walks away, leaving the door open.

Camie groans. “Oh my God, Katsuki, I swear to God.” She stomps over and slams it shut. “I begged Mom for a sister,” she mutters to herself.

Ochako doesn’t say anything. She still stands by the vanity, gripping the makeup wipe, her heart pounding. Her eyes start to sting again, and Camie notices immediately.

“Oh, Chako,” she sighs, softer this time, wrapping her arms around her.

Ochako doesn’t fight it. She buries her face in Camie’s shoulder. “Why was he looking at me like that?” she whispers. “I know it’s just a stupid crush, but I feel like I’m so delusional for even thinking—for even hoping…” She chokes on the words, and Camie strokes her hair soothingly.

“I think you two need to talk,” Camie says gently. “The tension in here was so thick you could cut it with a knife.”

Ochako scoffs weakly. “And what would I even say to him?”

“Just tell him how you feel. Get it off your chest. No matter what he says, I promise you, it’ll feel like a weight has been lifted.” Camie pulls back slightly, cupping her cheeks. “You’ll feel better, Chako.”

Ochako sniffles, offering a small, grateful smile. “Thanks, Cam.”

Camie grins. “You’re welcome. Now go tell your man how you feel.”

Ochako gives her a deadpan stare. “Are you serious?”

Camie raises her hands in mock surrender. “Okay, okay.”

Ochako exhales, thinking. “Where would he even be right now?”

“Knowing him? His room. He probably ran away from the crowd the first chance he got.”

Ochako hesitates. Then nods. “Okay. Thanks.”

As she leaves the room, she doesn’t know if her heart is racing from nerves or anticipation. But she knows one thing for sure—she can’t keep this bottled up anymore.

Ochako hesitated in front of Bakugou’s door, her heart pounding so loudly she could barely think. Camie’s words echoed in her head—just tell him how you feel. Easier said than done.

She took a deep breath, steeling herself, and knocked.

Silence.

For a moment, she considered turning around, but then the door yanked open, and there he was—Bakugou, in a black t-shirt and sweats, looking at her with narrowed eyes, like he was surprised but trying to hide it.

“The hell do you want?” His voice was gruff, but there wasn’t any real bite behind it. Just exhaustion.

Ochako swallowed. “Can I come in?”

He frowned, clearly debating it, then stepped aside. She walked in, taking in the neat but slightly messy room—weights in the corner, a half-drunk bottle of water on the desk, the faint scent of his cologne lingering in the air.

The door clicked shut behind her.

“Spit it out.”

Ochako turned to face him. “Why did you do that?”

Bakugou shoved his hands into his pockets. “Do what?”

“You know what,” she said, voice quieter now. “Why did you take the hot sauce instead of kissing me?”

His jaw tightened. “I just didn’t want to. That’s it.”

Her chest ached at his bluntness, but she pushed forward. “But why? Was it me? Would you have done it if it was someone else?”

His fingers twitched. “Tch. Why does it even matter?”

“Because it does,” she said, voice firmer. “Because for a second, I thought maybe… I don’t know. Maybe I wasn’t imagining things.”

Bakugou’s scowl deepened. “Imagining what?”

She exhaled sharply. “That you looked at me differently tonight. That maybe you… felt something.”

He looked away, tension rolling off him in waves. “You’re reading too much into it.”

Ochako let out a humorless laugh. “Maybe I am. Maybe I was just stupid to think—”

“Tch. Don’t say that.”

“Then what am I supposed to think, Bakugou?” she asked, stepping closer. “Because I feel like an idiot for liking someone who clearly doesn’t—”

His head snapped up. “Who said I don’t?”

The words hung between them, electric and raw.

Ochako’s breath caught. “What?”

Bakugou let out a frustrated growl, running a hand through his hair. “I don’t fucking know, okay?” He looked at her then, eyes burning. “I don’t know what you want me to say. I don’t know why you’re making a big deal out of this. I don’t get why you even care so damn much.”

Her heart squeezed. “Because it’s you, Bakugou.”

His breath hitched.

“I’ve liked you for so long, and I know it’s dumb. I know it’s one-sided. But I thought you should know.”

Bakugou stared at her, something unreadable flickering in his gaze. Then, instead of answering, he scoffed and turned away. “That’s your problem, then.”

Ochako flinched like he’d slapped her.

For a moment, neither of them spoke.

Then, quietly, she asked, “Is that really all you have to say?”

Bakugou didn’t answer.

Her throat tightened. “Okay.” She turned to leave, her hands clenched into fists at her sides, but before she could reach the door—

“Wait.”

His voice was hoarse, almost desperate, but when she turned around, his face was twisted in frustration, like he was fighting himself.

He clenched his jaw. “I didn’t kiss you because I didn’t fucking know how to.”

Ochako blinked. “What?”

“I didn’t know what to do, alright? You caught me off guard, and I panicked. And I—” He exhaled sharply. “I don’t know how to deal with you.”

She swallowed. “What does that mean?”

Bakugou hesitated, then growled under his breath. “It means you make me think too much. You piss me off. And I don’t know why I care that you ran off like that. But I do.”

Silence.

Ochako took a shaky breath. “Bakugou…”

He cut her off. “You’re better off without this. Without me.” His voice was low, almost bitter. “So just… drop it.”

Ochako felt something in her chest crack, but she refused to let him see her break. Instead, she straightened her shoulders and nodded once. “Okay.”

Bakugou’s fists clenched, but he didn’t stop her this time when she turned toward the door again.

The moment she left, he let out a harsh breath, staring at the spot where she had stood. His mind was a storm of emotions he couldn’t name, couldn’t control.

And for the first time in a long time, he didn’t know what to do.

Chapter Text

If you ever wondered how this whole thing started, well… Ochako and Camie had been friends since they were ten years old. She had always known Camie had a twin brother, but for most of her childhood, he was just that—Camie’s brother. Nothing more, nothing less.

Then came the teenage years, the years when crushes started forming, when boys suddenly weren’t just boys anymore. And somehow, somewhere along the way, he became different to her.

Bakugou had always been there, a constant presence in her life, but it wasn’t until she turned thirteen that she started seeing him differently. He was really handsome—like, unfairly so. But it was in eighth grade, at one particular sleepover, that those little, innocent thoughts turned into something more.

Ochako sat stiffly on the couch, hands folded neatly in her lap, eyes flickering between her two best friends as they talked a mile a minute. Camie and Mina always seemed so comfortable, no matter where they were. They belonged in this big house with its high ceilings and expensive furniture, while Ochako felt completely out of place, like she was taking up space she wasn’t supposed to.

But it wasn’t just the house that made her nervous.

It was him.

Bakugou was there, along with some of his friends—Izuku Midoriya and Shouto Todoroki. They were all part of that untouchable group at school—the popular boys. Todoroki, with his effortless good looks and rich family background, had girls falling at his feet. Izuku was well-liked, always kind to everyone, no matter their status, and had a natural charm about him. And then there was him.

Bakugou Katsuki.

He was different from the others. Louder. Sharper. He had this way of drawing people in, even when all he did was insult them. His confidence—borderline arrogance—only made people want to be around him more. Girls admired him, guys respected him, and despite his short temper, he had a gravitational pull that made people hang onto his every word.

Ochako had always thought he was out of reach.

She told herself that fact every time she caught herself looking at him.

"Chako!"

Ochako jumped, snapped out of her trance by Mina’s loud voice.

"Y-yeah?" she stammered, heat creeping up her neck.

"We were asking if you wanted something to drink?" Camie repeated, giving her a suspicious look.

"H-huh? Oh! Um… sure?" Ochako said quickly.

"I’ll grab it," Mina said, already hopping up and heading toward the kitchen.

Ochako let out a small breath, watching her friend go, but then she noticed something else—Bakugou following after Mina.

He’s probably just getting one for himself, she thought, forcing herself to look away. But curiosity got the better of her, and she found herself glancing toward the kitchen. She couldn’t hear their conversation, but Mina was talking to him about something, gesturing a lot with her hands. Then, suddenly, she handed both of the drinks she had grabbed to him before rushing down the hall.

Ochako frowned. Weird.

A moment later, Bakugou was walking toward her, a can in his hand. She straightened instinctively, heart picking up speed for no reason at all.

"Here," he muttered, stopping in front of her. "Pinky had to use the bathroom. Told me to give you this." He didn’t even look at her as he held out the can.

Ochako hesitated for a second before taking it. "Oh, uh—thank you," she said, her voice softer than she wanted it to be.

He shrugged. "Yeah, whatever."

And just like that, he turned and walked away, plopping back onto the couch and pulling out his phone like nothing had happened.

Ochako sat there, unmoving, fingers wrapped around the can he had handed her.

Her face felt warm. Why does my face feel warm? It wasn’t that big of a deal, right? It was just a soda. He was just… passing along a message. It wasn’t like he had gone to get it for her.

So then why did her heart skip a beat when he got close?

She shook her head, scolding herself. I’m being ridiculous.

But later that night, as everyone settled into their spots in the living room, the moment stayed with her. She sat cross-legged on the floor near Izuku, sipping the drink he had given her, and trying very hard not to keep glancing in his direction.

But she didn’t need to.

Because every time she wasn’t looking, he was.

It wasn’t the first time that night.

Every time she looked at him, she caught his gaze already on her. But the second their eyes met, he always looked away, like it never happened. It was driving her crazy.

Why does he look at me when I’m not looking but never when I am?

And why was she overthinking this so much?

Little did she know, from this moment on, she would keep overthinking everything he did—even when he wasn’t paying attention to her.

And little did he know, the same thing would start happening to him.

Chapter Text

Ochako walked out of Bakugou’s room, her heart racing so hard it hurt. She felt borderline tears again — over a guy who clearly didn’t give a damn about her.

She kept her head down as she made her way back to Camie's room, determined to grab her stuff and figure out how to get through the night. No way she could keep pretending everything was okay after what just happened.

As she turned the corner, she bumped hard into something — someone — and stumbled back, bracing for the fall. Before she could hit the floor, a pair of strong arms caught her.

"Oh — I'm so sorry!" the boy said, voice warm and hurried. Ochako looked up and froze.

Izuku Midoriya.

Bakugou’s childhood best friend.

He didn’t play basketball like the others — he was the captain of the baseball team now. She remembered hanging out with him once before when she first started visiting Camie's house, but that felt like a lifetime ago.

"Uhm… it’s okay," she mumbled, keeping her head low, hoping he wouldn’t notice the tears clinging to her lashes.

"Wait… you’re Uraraka, right?" Izuku asked, sounding genuinely excited.

"Yeah," she replied, barely looking up.

"Oh man, it’s been forever! I thought you moved or something," he said, his voice light and familiar. She risked glancing up and saw his nervous smile, his hand rubbing the back of his neck, a faint blush dusting his cheeks.

"No… you’ve just been busy with baseball," she said quietly, offering him a small, tired smile. "Congrats on the D1 scholarship, by the way."

He laughed sheepishly. "Thanks. Me and Kacchan were supposed to go to the same university, but... with all the basketball scholarships he’s getting, he’s considering other schools."

"You still got into a really good school," she said softly. "I mean, you're going to America. That’s huge."

"Yeah, LSU is great, but... moving to a whole other country is kinda nerve-racking," he admitted.

They stood there awkwardly for a second, and it didn’t take Izuku long to notice her red eyes.

"Hey… are you okay?" he asked gently.

"Huh? Me? I'm fine," she said quickly, a little too quickly.

"Don’t lie to me, Chako," he said, stepping closer, his voice quiet but firm.

"I’m fine, Midoriya, I swear I—"

Before she could finish, he wrapped his arms around her, pulling her into a hug.

"You don’t have to explain," he murmured against her hair. "You just look like you needed this."

Ochako froze for a second, then melted into his embrace, letting herself breathe. She didn’t even realize how badly she needed someone to just... care.

After a few moments, he pulled back, giving her a small, comforting smile.

"Thank you," she whispered, feeling the lump in her throat ease a little.

"Always," he said, backing away slightly. "Hey, why don’t you come to one of my games sometime? We only have, what, two months of school left?"

"I… yeah. I'd like that," she said, wiping her eyes and smiling genuinely for the first time tonight.

"Good. I'll see you around," he said, giving her a little wave before jogging off down the hall.

When she finally got back to Camie's room, she didn’t even bother knocking. She pushed the door open and collapsed face-first onto Camie's bed.

"I’m gonna kill myself," she groaned into the mattress.

"What happened?" Camie asked, immediately putting her phone down and sitting up.

"He hates me," Ochako mumbled into the bedspread.

"Katsuki doesn’t hate you," Camie said, rubbing small circles on her back.

"Yes, he does, Cam! I feel so stupid for even thinking I had a chance with him! He’s so out of my league. Why would he want some ugly nerd loser like me when he could have someone like Momo Yaoyorozu?! She’s gorgeous, she's popular, and everyone loves her, and they’re friends, for God’s sake—"

"Hey! No. I’m not gonna let you talk about yourself like that," Camie said firmly, pulling her up by the shoulders so she could look her in the eye. "You're beautiful, Chako. You’re smart, kind, hilarious, and honestly if my dumbass brother can’t see that, then that’s on him. If I were a guy, I’d date you in a heartbeat."

Ochako let out a broken laugh at that, wiping her eyes.

"Don’t be ridiculous," she sniffled.

"I’m dead serious," Camie said, wrapping her arms around her. "You’re fine as hell, and smart as hell, and anyone would be lucky to have you. Yeah, Momo’s great — but so are you. Katsuki’s known you longer, too. That has to mean something."

"Thank you, Cam," Ochako whispered, hugging her tightly.

"Anytime. Always."

They sat there for a bit before Ochako sighed.

"I think I’m gonna go home tomorrow," she said quietly.

"Wait, what? Why?" Camie pulled back, surprised.

"It’s just... after everything, and him being here, it’d be too awkward. I can’t stay here and act normal."

Camie looked like she wanted to argue, but eventually nodded.

"Okay... I’ll give you your space. But you know you’re always welcome here."

They started packing her bag together.

"Wait," Camie said, frowning. "We have school tomorrow."

"I’ll just go home after. My dad can pick me up," Ochako said, zipping her suitcase shut.

"You sure you can handle being in the car with him there?" Camie asked hesitantly. "I can just tell Mom to make him walk to school or something—"

"No, it’s fine. I can handle it," she said, forcing a smile.

"If you say so," Camie said, tossing her a hoodie from the pile.

"Where’s Mina?" Ochako asked.

"Probably making out with Kirishima somewhere," Camie said nonchalantly, scrolling through her phone.

Ochako grimaced. "Uhm... okay. When is this party gonna end?"

"Most people already started leaving. That’s why Katsuki went to his room — some of the closer guys are sleeping over, like usual," Camie explained.

"Cool. I’m just gonna change into my pajamas then," Ochako said, needing a moment to herself.

"Sounds good. I’ll be right here."

As she grabbed her pajamas and headed toward the bathroom, she couldn’t help but think:

Tomorrow couldn’t come fast enough.

The next morning came faster than Ochako would have liked.

She barely slept. Every time she closed her eyes, her brain refused to shut off, replaying everything — her confession, Bakugou’s stunned face, the deafening silence that followed, stretching on and on until it almost crushed her. She kept wondering if she could've said something different, if maybe then it wouldn’t have felt so unbearable now.

When her alarm went off, she sat up stiffly in Camie's bed, feeling hollow. A heavy, sinking emptiness sat in her chest. Camie was still asleep beside her, snoring softly, buried under a mess of tangled blankets.

Ochako moved quietly, not wanting to wake her. She grabbed her packed bag and slipped into her school uniform without even glancing at the mirror.
She couldn't bear to look herself in the eye — the girl who had embarrassed herself so badly last night.

Her fingers trembled slightly as she texted her dad, asking for a ride after school.
Then she just sat there, perched stiffly on the edge of the bed, clutching her phone in both hands, waiting.

Fifteen minutes dragged by painfully slow before Camie stirred, sitting up and rubbing at her eyes, her hair a sleepy mess.

"Morning," she mumbled, voice thick with sleep.

"Morning," Ochako said, so quietly she wasn't even sure it counted.

Camie blinked at her blearily. "You sure you’re okay to deal with him today?"

"I’ll survive," Ochako said with a smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes.

Camie didn’t look convinced, but she didn’t push. Together, they made their way downstairs, Ochako's hands white-knuckling the strap of her bag the entire time.

The kitchen was already alive with noise — dishes clinking, voices overlapping, laughter bouncing warmly off the walls.
It almost felt normal. It almost helped.

Almost.

Kaminari and Sero were perched at the counter, inhaling platefuls of waffles like they hadn’t eaten in days. Todoroki leaned casually against the fridge, looking half-asleep still, sipping black coffee like it was a lifeline.

And there — at the far end of the kitchen table — was Bakugou.

He was slouched low in his chair, phone in one hand, fork lazily twirling through a half-eaten plate of eggs in the other. His blonde hair was messy, sticking up wildly in places.
He didn’t look at her.

Ochako’s stomach twisted painfully, a tight knot pulling tighter and tighter.

She dropped her gaze to the floor, studying the scuffed linoleum like it was the most interesting thing she'd ever seen.
Her face burned hot as she followed Camie to the counter, the weight of his presence making it hard to breathe.

"Yo! Sleepyheads finally decided to join the land of the living," Sero called out with a wide grin, waving a waffle in greeting.
"Morning, ladies."

"Morning," Camie said around a yawn.

Ochako barely managed a soft, "Morning," that probably got swallowed by the noise, but Sero caught it anyway.

He smirked and slid a plate toward her. "Hungry? Made extra just for you, Uraraka."

Ochako blinked, startled.

She hesitated, glancing quickly around — and caught Bakugou’s eyes flick up from his phone, just for a second.
Their eyes met.
He looked away almost immediately, scowling at the countertop like it had personally offended him.

"Um, thank you," Ochako mumbled, cheeks heating as she slid onto a stool next to Sero.

She started eating, picking at her food mechanically, when Kaminari’s voice broke through.

"Do you guys think hot sauce goes well with eggs?" he asked innocently, but the way he emphasized "hot sauce" made it clear he was teasing.

Ochako coughed on a mouthful of waffle, nearly choking.

"Kaminari," Mina hissed, shooting him a sharp look.

"Whattt? Just asking a question," Kaminari said, grinning like a cat who just knocked a glass off the table on purpose.

Ochako glanced up through her lashes and saw Bakugou glaring daggers at Kaminari across the kitchen. His grip on his fork tightened.

Sero, noticing Bakugou’s death glare, couldn’t help but stir the pot.

"You know," Sero said casually, elbowing Kaminari, "for a guy who acts like he hates the world, he sure gets real weird when you're around."

Ochako froze, mid-bite.
Her heart slammed painfully against her ribs.

"W-What are you talking about?" she squeaked, wide-eyed.

"Shut the hell up, elbows," Bakugou snapped, getting up so fast he nearly knocked his chair over, his plate clattering loudly into the sink.

Sero just shrugged, looking way too pleased with himself.

"I mean, you did practically break him during spin the bottle."

Ochako’s entire face went beet red.

"I didn’t break anyone!" she protested, her voice pitching embarrassingly high at the end.

Sero leaned forward, resting his chin in his hand, smirking knowingly.
"C'mon, Chako. You really didn’t notice? The second that bottle pointed at you, homeboy looked like he was about to spontaneously combust."

Bakugou growled low in his throat.

"Sero, shut the fuck up, or I swear to God—" he snarled, grabbing Sero by the back of his chair and yanking it out from under him.

"Hey!" Sero yelped, laughing as he tumbled onto the floor.

"Ooooooo," Camie said, covering her mouth, giggling uncontrollably.

Before things could escalate further, a sharp voice cut through the room.

"What the hell is going on here?" Mitsuki Bakugou said, stepping into the kitchen, hands on her hips.

"Good morning, Mrs. Bakugou," Sero said cheerfully from his spot on the floor, grinning up at her.

Bakugou released him with a grunt.

Mitsuki raised an eyebrow but decided not to question it.

"Oh, uh, good morning, boys. Didn’t know you guys stayed over... Does anyone need a ride to school?"

"No, it’s fine, us three are good. I drove us here," Todoroki said, already jingling his car keys.

"Okay, cool," she said, nodding.

Bakugou shifted awkwardly, then blurted out, "Hey, Sho — can you give me a ride?"

He darted a glance at Ochako — barely a flicker — before looking away like it burned him.

"Uh... sure?" Todoroki replied, a little confused but unfazed.

Camie gave Ochako a small, knowing smile as they packed up to leave.

Ochako just stared at the floor, feeling like she was made of glass and someone kept throwing rocks.

At school, things didn’t get better.

If anything, they got worse.

She spotted him a few times between classes — in the hallway, by the lockers, once across the courtyard.
Each time, their eyes would meet for half a second.
And each time, Ochako felt like someone punched her straight in the gut.

He didn’t look mad.
If anything, he looked... lost.
Like he didn’t know what he was supposed to do now — how to act around her, how to fix whatever it was they’d broken.

Which somehow hurt even worse.

The real kicker came during lunch.

Their usual table had been stolen by some underclassmen, so they ended up crammed awkwardly at Bakugou’s table.
From the second she sat down, Ochako wanted to leave.

The conversation spiraled quickly — jokes about the party, teasing about spin the bottle — and then someone (probably Kaminari) joked that Bakugou would rather have his mouth burned than kiss her.

It was supposed to be funny.

She knew it was supposed to be funny.

But it wasn’t.

Not for her.

Not after everything.

Mina, sensing the change in the air, quickly steered the conversation elsewhere, bless her.
But the damage was done.

Ochako sat there, staring blankly at her untouched food, feeling the sting of tears building behind her eyes.

Across the table, Katsuki caught the tail end of the conversation.
His eyes flicked up, catching her flushed cheeks and the miserable expression she couldn’t quite hide.

His chest twisted sharply, something ugly and awful blooming inside him.

He didn’t know what the hell he was supposed to do about it.

All he knew was that he hated seeing her look like that.

And he hated even more that it was his fault.

He had to talk to her.

Had to try and fix this mess he didn’t even know how to fix.

But the question clawed at the back of his mind, sharp and biting.

Did she even want to talk to him again?

Chapter Text

"You want to go to a baseball game?" Mina asked, raising an eyebrow suspiciously.

Ochako nodded a little too quickly. "Yeah. Why not? Could be fun."
She glanced down, her fingers nervously tangling together in her lap. A new habit — one she hadn’t had before, but somehow picked up over the past two weeks.

Two long, awkward, aching weeks.

Two weeks of her and Bakugou pretending the other didn’t exist. Two weeks of stolen glances, neither of them brave enough to look for more than a second.
Two weeks of silence louder than any argument they could’ve had.

Camie leaned forward, narrowing her eyes slightly. “You wanna go to a varsity baseball game? With big crowds and loud noise and screaming fans?”

Ochako shrugged, arms flopping in the air with mock surrender. "Yes! What’s so bad about it?"

Mina exchanged a look with Camie — one of those silent, suspicious girl-language glances — and then both of them let out identical, high-pitched squeals.

Ochako immediately regretted opening her mouth.

“What did I just get myself into?” she muttered, watching her friends practically vibrate with excitement.

By 5 p.m. that Friday, the situation had spiraled completely out of her hands.

Ochako found herself parked on Mina’s vanity stool, practically held hostage while every makeup product known to man covered the desk like it was NYFW backstage.

“Is this really necessary?” Ochako asked, eyeing the eyeshadow palette Mina held up like a weapon.

“Yes,” Mina said flatly. “Friday night games are like, the Met Gala of school events.”

“Yeah, Camie, help me out here,” she added, motioning like a magician presenting her assistant.

Camie giggled, rubbing Ochako’s shoulder comfortingly. “Think of it like football games. It’s just getting into school spirit. A little glam, a little sparkle — it's tradition!”

“…Okay,” Ochako relented, though she still looked skeptical.

Mina put on music — something upbeat and loud — and then the chaos truly began.

“Keep your head still—”

“Chako, look up!”

“Ugh, Camie, you're in my light!”

“Okay but your brush is shedding on her cheek!”

Eventually, after a lot of shifting, giggling, and arguing over eyeliner technique, Mina leaned back and sighed. “Done.”

Ochako blinked into the mirror and gasped softly.

Her face was glowing. Literally. The eyeshadow was a soft, shimmering yellow — matching UA’s school colors — and Camie had added rhinestones. Two dotted delicately along her right eyelid, and three nestled just beneath her left lower lashes like tiny stars.

“Looking good, as always,” Camie said, practically preening with pride.

“Alright, just gotta figure out what you’re wearing with this masterpiece,” Mina said, scanning the room like a general preparing for battle.

"Uh... I kinda already brought something." Ochako said quietly, reaching for her bag. She pulled out a rhinestoned UA baseball tee — glittery but tasteful — with Midoriya and a big green #6 printed on the back.

Camie blinked. “Well, shit.”

Mina’s eyes widened. “Now we know the reason.”

“It’s not like that!” Ochako blurted, this time genuinely meaning it.

Both of them stared at her, clearly unconvinced.

“He gave this to me the other day,” she explained quickly. “He just told me it was his last home game and— and he wanted someone to wear it. That’s all!”

“Mmhmm,” Camie murmured, clearly not buying a single word.

“Well, mystery solved,” Mina grinned. “Me and Camie have shirts too, but not like yours~”

“Please stop,” Ochako groaned, her face heating up fast.

By the time they arrived at the stadium, the sun was starting to dip behind the trees, casting golden shadows across the field. The stands were packed. Music was playing over the loudspeakers, and the scent of popcorn and fresh-cut grass filled the air.

Ochako could feel her heart thumping in her ears.

The three of them made their way up the bleachers and found seats near the middle, close enough to see everything but not so close as to draw attention.

All the players were still warming up on the field — stretching, throwing, and shouting to each other — their energy electric. Ochako scanned the field until she spotted him.

Izuku.

He was standing near the dugout, adjusting his cap with one hand and holding his bat in the other. When he looked up and saw her, he smiled and gave a small, casual wave.

Ochako waved back, smiling softly.

“Huh,” Camie muttered, leaning toward her. “Does he not see us here too?”

“Maybe,” Ochako said, flashing a teasing smile, “he just likes me better.”

“Oh shut up,” Camie pouted, dramatically flicking her ponytail, and Ochako laughed.

For a moment, it felt good. Light. Like things were okay.

But then—

"This is bullshit,” a familiar voice groaned behind them. “Why the hell do I have to come to some shitty baseball game when I could be sleeping?”

Ochako stiffened. Her heart skipped so hard it felt like it stuttered.

She turned slowly, and sure enough — there he was.

Bakugou Katsuki.

Dressed in his basketball warm-ups, hair still slightly damp from a post-game shower, a permanent scowl on his face.

Behind him stood the entire basketball team, all of them still in their jerseys. They must’ve just wrapped up their own game.

“But your best friend is playing,” Kirishima said with a grin, slapping Bakugou on the back like it was the most obvious thing in the world.

“Like I give a—” Bakugou started, turning his head—

And then he saw her.

Ochako.

Their eyes locked.

Time slowed.

Everything else — the noise, the laughter, the chatter of the crowd — melted into nothing.

Bakugou’s words died in his throat. His mouth snapped shut.
He didn’t look angry. Or smug. Or sarcastic.

He looked surprised.

Ochako felt frozen in place, her breath caught in her chest, every inch of her skin prickling under his gaze.

He looked like he hadn’t expected to see her. Like he hadn’t prepared himself. Like he didn’t know what to do now that she was here.

After two weeks of pretending they didn’t exist to each other, here they were — two people with too many unsaid things and nowhere to hide.

Chapter Text

"Okay, idiots, we lost our last three games. I really hate being on a fucking losing streak," Bakugou growled, pacing in front of the lockers, eyes sharp as hell.

They were in the locker room before the game, still in their warmups. The air was heavy with sweat, tension, and the hum of overhead lights. Everyone knew he was pissed.

"I mean, we fucking lost to Seijin!" he threw his hands up, voice echoing against the tiled walls.

His teammates looked down, some rubbing the back of their necks, others avoiding eye contact.

"I mean, the refs that game kept making bullshit calls," Denki muttered weakly, like he knew he was stepping into dangerous territory.

"You can't blame the refs for losing," Bakugou snapped without even looking at him, shutting him up immediately.

"I'm just gonna say this shit once and only once—if we don't win today, I'll make Coach let us run. For every turnover, every missed layup, every missed three-pointer, and all the times we don’t hustle back on defense. So tighten the hell up!" he barked.

"Come on, you think the only reason we've been losing is on us?" Sero leaned back against a locker, arms crossed.

"Exactly. In our last game, you fouled out in the first quarter. That’s never happened before," Todoroki said from the corner, casually filling up his water bottle.

"And don't forget how many times the ball hit you in the face because you were spacing out," Tetsutetsu added, pointing his finger with a half-smirk.

Bakugou didn’t argue. He didn’t even turn around. He just grabbed his jersey, threw it on over his compression shirt, and said, “I said what I said,” before storming out of the locker room.

"You guys heard him,” Kirishima clapped his hands together. “Let’s get a freaking dub today!”

He stuck his hand out in the middle of the circle.

"1, 2, 3, UA on me," he shouted.

"1, 2, 3, UA!" they yelled in unison, voices cracking with adrenaline.

"TIME TO KICK SOME ASS!" Awase roared, whipping Denki with his towel on the way out.

"Hey!" Denki yelped, rubbing his backside while the rest of them burst into laughter.

lights beat down on the glossy hardwood as UA’s starting five took their positions.

*after the game*

BUZZER SOUNDS. FINAL SCORE: UA – 128, OPPONENTS – 119.

The gym ERUPTS.

The bench cleared. They tackled each other, yelling over the noise.

“WERE FUCKING BACK BABY!” Awase shouted, hugging Tetsutetsu.

Bakugou stood midcourt, chest heaving, sweat dripping, fist raised to the ceiling.

Sero clapped him on the back. “Told you we’d turn this shit around.”

Kirishima grinned."TOLD YOU WE STILL HAD IT" he says to the crowd of cheering fans,

"What a hell of a game," Bakugou muttered, stepping into the locker room, hair still damp from the shower, towel slung over his shoulder.

"I know, right? Felt good as hell seeing the sorry look on their faces,” Sero said from where he was stretched out on the floor, leaning back against the lockers like he owned the place.

“Can’t believe I’m saying this,” Bakugou grunted, pulling his jersey from the dryer—yes, UA’s locker rooms were decked out like that, “but shitty hair, you carried us today.”

Kirishima didn’t answer. He was sitting on the bench with his phone in hand, wearing a cocky little smirk.

“Hellooo?” Denki waved a hand in front of Kirishima’s face. “Earth to Red Riot.”

“Don’t fucking ignore me, Kirishima,” Bakugou barked, stomping up to him. That made Kiri look up, hands raised in mock surrender.

“Jeez, alright, relax man.. And thanks. That was probably my best game of the season,” he added with a sheepish chuckle, rubbing the back of his neck.

“Who got you smiling like that?” Sero teased, eyeing the screen like he could will the truth out of it.

“No one.” Kirishima’s voice cracked a little, and a blush crept up his neck.

“Come on, bro. You look like Denki when he started texting Jirou,” Awase said, plopping down beside him.

“I swear it’s nothing,” Kirishima said too quickly. He looked like he wanted to keep it cool but couldn’t help spacing out again.

“Spit it the hell out,” Bakugou ordered, arms crossed.

Kirishima looked around, shrugged, then said, “Do you guys wanna go to a baseball game?”

Everyone froze, and then all at once, they burst into laughter.

“Baseball?” Sero wheezed, clutching his stomach.

“What’s wrong with that?” Kirishima asked, looking genuinely confused.

“Isn’t Midoriya on the team?” Todoroki asked, his voice as flat as ever.

“Yeah, the nerd’s been asking me to come all season. Said it’s their last home game,” Bakugou muttered.

“Let’s go see how the baseball boys get down,” Denki said, already making a face.

“I don’t get the hate,” Kirishima frowned.

“It’s not the sport,” Tetsutetsu grumbled, crossing his arms. “Last year, their whole damn team crashed our party and TPed my house.”

Bakugou smirked. “Deku wouldn’t do that.”

“He was the only one who didn’t,” Tetsutetsu said. “So I’ll go. For him. He seems chill.”

“Ooooh, we should wear our jerseys,” Denki said suddenly, bolting toward the dryer.

“Why the hell would we do that?” Bakugou growled.

“We just had a big win and we look good as hell,” Sero added, already helping Denki dig through warm clothes.

Bakugou sighed and pulled on his clean jersey anyway. “Why the hell do I listen to you guys…” he mumbled.

“Because deep down, you love us,” Kirishima said, slinging an arm around Bakugou’s shoulders.

“Get off,” Bakugou barked, shoving him hard enough that he bumped into Todoroki.

“Let’s just go already.”

They arrived to packed bleachers, full of fans waving signs, wearing custom jerseys, and holding printed cutouts of players’ faces. The energy was electric.

“This is bullshit,” bakugou starts “Why the hell do I have to come to some shitty baseball game when I could be sleeping?”

“Because one of your best friend’s playing,” Kirishima said, slapping Bakugou on the back with a grin.

“Like I give a—” Bakugou turned his head, scowling.

And then he saw her.

Ochako.

Sitting with Mina, Camie, and a few others. Her hair was tied up, her jersey too big on her shoulders—Midoriya’s number on the back.

Their eyes locked.

Time slowed.

until it was broken...

“HEY KIRI!” Mina yelled, spotting them. She waved them over with both hands. The rest of the group walked up to the girls, but Bakugou lingered a few steps behind, suddenly feeling every eye around him.

“Wow,” Camie said, giving them a once-over, “You guys couldn’t even change out of your basketball jerseys?”

“We could’ve,” Sero said with a smug smile, “But we chose to wear them.”

They found a spot in the bleachers—one conveniently placed next to Uraraka. Whether it was coincidence or conspiracy, Bakugou didn’t know. And didn’t ask.

With a low grunt, he sat down beside her. She gave him a small, hesitant smile, but he didn’t return it. Her body shifted subtly, edging closer to Camie.

“I don’t bite, Cheeks,” he muttered.

She froze mid-move. “I-I knew that. Obviously.” Her cheeks flushed. “It’s just… awkward. That’s all.” She looked down, fidgeting with her fingers.

“Only if you make it awkward,” he said, jaw tight.

“Right. Like I’m the only one making it awkward,” she snapped.

“What the hell is that supposed to mean?” he turned to her, voice already rising.

“You think I’m still bothered about a stupid fucking confession?” he said, too loud, too close.

She went quiet. Her eyes shimmered with unshed tears.

He backed off immediately, face pale. “Shit. Sorry. I didn’t mean it like that.”

“No, it’s fine. You’re right,” she laughed weakly, forcing a smile. “It was a stupid fucking confession.”

“Don’t do that,” he muttered, side-eyeing her.

“Do what?”

“Cussing. Doesn’t fit you.”

She laughed, soft and almost bitter. **“You’d hate to hear what I say when it’s just me, Mina, and Camie.”

A faint blush touched his cheeks. “Didn’t know you were a baseball fan.”

“Not really,” she said, hugging her knees to her chest. “But a friend’s playing tonight.” She turned slightly, revealing the name on her jersey.

“Deku,” Bakugou muttered.

“Decku?” she echoed, confused.

**“That’s just what I call him.”

She gave a small nod. “That’s... nice.”

They both stared out at the field.

“Uraraka,” he said after a long pause.

“Yeah?”

“Can we... talk about that night?”

Her body stiffened. “Yeah... sure.”

He leaned forward, elbows on knees, voice low. “I didn’t drink the hot sauce because I thought kissing you was gross, or whatever bullshit people say.”

She looked down.

“I was caught in my head. And... when it comes to you, everything spirals. I don’t get it. I don’t know what it means, but... it’s confusing as hell.”

“What are you saying, Bakugou?”

“I’m saying I don’t know why I care so much. I’ve had girls like me before. But this feels... different. And I don’t know what to do with that.”

Her eyebrows lifted—half confused, half hurt. “Well... it’s okay. I’ll move on. It was just a silly crush anyway.” Her smile didn’t reach her eyes.

He was about to say something—anything—when the bleachers exploded with noise. Cheers erupted around them as Midoriya hit a home run.

Ochako jumped to her feet, screaming with excitement. She was beaming—genuinely happy in a way she hadn’t looked all evening.

Bakugou clapped half-heartedly, still thinking about what he didn’t say.

UA beat Shiketsu in their last home game. Students filed out of the stands, buzzing with energy.

Bakugou spotted Midoriya near the dugout. He waved at him. Bakugou waved back, nodding but didn’t approach.

He just wanted to go home. Sleep.

As he turned to leave, he caught sight of her again—midoriya running up to uraraka who was walking towards him, throwing his arms around him. He lifted her in a bear hug, spinning her once before setting her down.

Bakugou didn’t know why, but his chest tightened.

“Dad’s here, let’s go, Kat,” Camie said, grabbing his arm.

He shook her off, eyes still on Ochako.

“I’m coming, dammit.”

Everything else—the noise, the chatter, the celebration—melted into nothing.

what are you doing to me cheeks.

Chapter Text

“Okay, ladies and gentlemen,” Momo began, standing confidently at the front of the student council meeting room. Her clipboard was tucked neatly in one arm, voice crisp and precise as usual. “As we all know, the year is coming to an end. Finals are approaching, which I trust everyone is preparing for. We also have a lot of preparation ahead of us for Spirit Week and upcoming sports events.”

Ochako sat in her usual seat near the middle of the table, legs crossed, hands folded, trying to stay focused. Being part of the student council wasn’t exactly thrilling—but it looked good on applications, and she needed everything she could get to boost her scholarship chances. The meetings were long, mostly dull, but she tolerated them. The only part she genuinely looked forward to was planning Spirit Week. She always had ideas to contribute, sometimes more than anyone else.

“As we all know—if you’ve actually read the emails I send out,” Momo added with a pointed glance at a few distracted members, “Boys’ Basketball Senior Night is coming up. We’ve been allotted a $3,000 budget for baskets, decorations, and the post-game meal.”

Ochako's stomach tightened. Her instincts were screaming that this wouldn’t end well for her.

“Each senior on the council will be creating a gift basket for a senior basketball player,” Momo continued, already walking around the room distributing index cards. “The cards include a list of the player’s likes and interests. You’ll present your basket to them on Senior Night.”

Ochako took her card with a quiet sigh and a desperate internal wish. There were only five names to pull. Please, please let her get someone else—anyone else.

She slowly flipped her card over.

Katsuki Bakugou likes: spicy food, the color orange, red and black, basketball, chocolate.

She stared at the list. Of course. Of all the people. A small basketball portrait of him stared up from the corner of the card, arms crossed, face as unbothered as ever. Her eye twitched. The last item—chocolate—threw her off. Since when did he like sweets? She remembered years ago, at Camie’s birthday parties, he’d always act miserable. He never even touched the cake. Ruined the vibe every single time.

She chuckled under her breath at the memory, shaking her head.

“Next meeting we’ll go over Senior Spirit Week,” Momo said, pulling Ochako back into the room. “That’s all for today. Everyone who isn’t a senior is dismissed.”

As the younger students filed out, Ochako rolled her eyes slightly. There was nothing wrong with Momo, but something about her felt too polished—too perfect. Maybe it was jealousy. She was beautiful, smart, and somehow close to Bakugou. That last part especially rubbed Ochako the wrong way.

“Okay, Jirou, Uraraka, Iida, Kendo,” Momo said, her voice softening. “It’s our last two months together. These past three years have been incredible, and I’m honestly so grateful to have served as your student council president.”

A small tear rolled down her cheek. Ochako’s heart softened.

She reached for a tissue from the nearby box and handed it to Momo, who accepted it with a grateful nod.

“Aww, Momo, don’t even mention it,” Jirou said with a warm smile.

They spent the next half-hour chatting, reminiscing about old events, laughing at shared memories. For once, it wasn’t about deadlines or events. It was just them, being together.

When the meeting finally wrapped, Ochako gathered her things and stepped out into the quiet hallway. She made her way to the UA lobby and pulled out her phone to call her dad.

“I’ll be about fifteen minutes late,” he said.

“That’s okay,” she murmured, settling into one of the padded seats. The lobby was peaceful, still. For once, she felt like she could actually breathe.

She opened her Chromebook, bringing up a search for gift basket ideas. She started scrolling through spicy snacks, orange accessories, and basketball-themed trinkets. It wasn’t a lot to work with.

“Hey, stranger.”

She blinked and looked up, caught off guard.

“Izuku?” she said, surprised.

He grinned and sat beside her. “Just got back from practice.”

“How was it?” she asked, closing her Chromebook.

“Pretty good. Twisted my ankle a little, but nothing I’m not used to.” He scratched the back of his neck sheepishly.

She nodded. “And what about you? Why are you still here?”

“Student council meeting. Seniors wanted a chill moment together,” she explained.

“That’s nice,” he said, scooting a bit closer. “Anything exciting?”

“Spirit Week stuff. And… Senior Night.”

“Oh yeah, Senior Night’s great. I’ve gone every year to watch Kacchan play.”

Ochako raised a brow, then smiled softly. “Yeah. He’s a good player. I got assigned to make his basket.”

Izuku’s brows lifted. “Really?”

“Yep. But he didn’t give me much to work with.”

“That checks out.” He laughed gently. “Want me to help? I know some of the stuff he actually likes. I could text you a list—surprise him a little.”

Her eyes brightened. “Seriously? That would help a lot. Right now, I’ve got… spicy chips. That’s it.”

He chuckled. “Give me your number. I’ll text you tonight.”

Her heart stuttered slightly. “Y-yeah, sure.”

Her fingers trembled just a bit as she entered her number into his phone. When she handed it back, he gave her the warmest smile she’d seen all day.

“Thanks, Ochako.”

They kept chatting, soft laughter filling the quiet lobby. When her phone buzzed with a text from her dad, she stood.

“He’s here.”

“Need a ride?” ochako asked, standing with him.

he shook his head. “No, but thanks. just wanted to keep you company”

Something fluttered in her chest. She smiled, stepping toward the door with him.

Outside, she paused at the car and looked back. “Bye, Izuku.”

“Later, Ochako.”

Chapter Text

"I'm so tired," Kirishima groaned, dragging himself into the locker room before collapsing onto the floor with a dramatic thud.

"Conditioning is my worst enemy," Denki added, limping behind him with his gym bag slung over one shoulder. The rest of the boys’ basketball team trailed in behind them, exhausted and drenched in sweat after what had to be the worst practice of their lives. With state approaching fast, Coach Toshinori had kicked their training into overdrive.

"You're telling me we have to do two more weeks of that bullshit?" Awase muttered, filling up his water bottle and splashing some on his face.

The locker room buzzed with complaints—everyone had something to say, everyone except Bakugou and Todoroki, who sat quietly at opposite ends of the room. Todoroki wasn’t much of a talker, and Bakugou, though seething as usual, had a look in his eyes that was far from passive.

"Bullshit?" Bakugou finally snapped, slamming his water bottle onto the bench so hard it echoed. "Just because you lazy asses never worked this hard a day in your life doesn’t mean what Coach is making us do is bullshit. Maybe if y’all weren’t so fucking slow on the court and didn’t gas out in the first ten minutes, we wouldn’t need this crazy conditioning in the first place."

Everyone went quiet.

"Pull yourselves together, idiots. Win or lose, we’re making it to State, and that competition’s going to be the hardest damn games we’ve ever played. We’ve only got two months left together. Senior Night is in three weeks. And we have to win that game to qualify. We’re going against Fujisaka Academy. Fujisaka. If we lose that game, you’ll ruin my shot at State. And if that happens, I swear—I’ll never forgive any of you."

His voice dropped into a low, dangerous growl. The locker room stood in stunned silence.

"Bakugou, don’t you think that was a little harsh?" Kirishima finally said, frowning, looking around at his teammates who nodded in agreement.

Monoma crossed his arms and stepped forward. "Just because you’re some basketball prodigy doesn’t mean you get to talk down to the rest of us like we haven’t contributed shit to this team. You’re not the only one out there playing."

"Why should we even listen to you when you talk to your own team like that?" Monoma continued, glaring.

Bakugou’s eyes narrowed. "Because I’m the fucking captain. I’m the one who scores the most points. I’ve got the best control, the best consistency, and I’m the only one who actually gives a damn."

Monoma laughed dryly. "Yeah, well, maybe a captain should lift his teammates up instead of tearing them down. And Mr. Consistent, how do you explain your performance the last few games? The turnovers, the fouls, getting blocked left and right? Oh! And being subbed out five times in one game. Don’t put the blame on us when you’ve been the one choking."

A thick silence dropped like a curtain.

Bakugou’s jaw clenched, fists curling tight. His vision tunneled as Monoma’s smug face flashed before him. Was it because Monoma was right? Or because of that damn smirk that made him look like he was better?

He hated two things: being wrong and anyone acting like they were above him.

how much shit would coach give him for this?

"Only one way to find out," he thought.

He launched.

"I’m gonna make you eat those words, shithead!" he roared, pouncing.

The team exploded in panic.

Kirishima and Denki jumped on Bakugou in an attempt to pull him off.

"Bakugou! What the hell?!" Kirishima grunted, grabbing his shoulders.

"Get the fuck off me, Shitty Hair!" Bakugou snapped, landing a solid punch straight into Monoma’s face.

Monoma didn’t hesitate—he threw one right back.

"Guys, we’re a team! We shouldn’t be fighting!" Denki cried, stepping between them. But just then, a misdirected punch nailed him in the head.

"Oh god," he muttered, holding his head and backing out of the fight. 

It took the whole team to break them up, chaos erupting until—

"What in god’s green earth is going on in here?!"

Coach Toshinori’s voice boomed through the room like a gunshot.

Everyone froze.

Bakugou froze mid-swing. Blood dripped from his nose. Monoma’s face was swollen, his lip split, both his eyes already darkening into bruises.

"YOU TWO. IN MY OFFICE. NOW," Toshinori shouted, eyes blazing.

Groaning, Bakugou and Monoma pulled themselves off the ground.

"And the rest of you, CLEAN THIS SHIT UP," he barked, slamming his door behind them.

Toshinori paced behind his desk, eyes flicking between his two seniors.

"I want to know why my two varsity players—wait, no, my two SENIOR players—are in here, fighting like maniacs in my locker room. You two are supposed to be role models. Leaders!"

Neither of them said a word.

"We have a strict no-violence policy. And as athletes, you’re held to an even higher standard. Bakugou, you’ve got over forty D1 scholarships on the line. Monoma? You’ve got Harvard calling. Harvard. And you thought it’d be a great idea to beat each other to a pulp like toddlers throwing tantrums in front of the entire team."

Monoma rolled his eyes. "He hit me first."

"Yeah, well maybe if you didn’t open your big fuck—"

"Enough!" Toshinori cut Bakugou off with a glare.

"At the end of the day, both of you should’ve stopped yourselves. Instead, you disrespected each other, the team, and this school. If I hadn’t walked in when I did, who knows what the hell would’ve happened."

Bakugou crossed his arms, seething. "Just tell me the punishment so I can get the hell out of here."

Toshinori sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. "Taking into account that you’re both usually good students with clean records, I won’t kick you off the team."

Bakugou exhaled, almost sagging in relief.

"But you will be benched for Senior Night."

"WHAT?!" Bakugou exploded. "JUST BECAUSE OF HIM, MY SENIOR NIGHT IS GONE?!"

"Are you serious?!" Monoma shouted, just as livid. "You’re punishing me too?!"

"You can both leave," Toshinori said coldly, turning his chair to face the window.

"This is BULLSHIT!" Bakugou snapped, storming out.

His blood boiled—not at Toshinori, but at himself. He let Monoma get to him. He acted like a damn fool in front of his entire team. All because he was feeling insecure about how poorly he’d been playing lately.

He needed out.

He texted his mom.

Come get me.

"I need a fucking car," he muttered as he changed clothes. He shoved everything into his duffel and stormed out of the locker room, ignoring the whispers and glances from his teammates.

As he passed through the foyer, he heard a familiar laugh.

His eyes snapped toward it.

Ochako.

She was sitting on one of the benches, laughing softly with Deku. Her body leaned slightly toward him, their knees almost touching.

Bakugou’s stomach twisted.

Why the hell were they so close? Since when did they become so friendly? Did she move on from him that fast? Not that they were together, but—

Why did he care so damn much?

He saw her smile again at Deku. That easy, unguarded smile she rarely gave anymore.

He had to get out of there. Fast.

He pushed the front doors open and climbed into his mom’s car in silence, not sparing a word the entire ride home.

“What the hell happened to you?” Camie asked, eyes wide as her older brother collapsed onto the living room couch like a sack of bricks.

“Fight,” Bakugou muttered, not even bothering to look at her as he threw his head back, arms splayed out.

“Ooo, who was the lucky boy?” she teased, a grin already tugging at her lips.

“Shut the hell up,” he grumbled, closing his eyes.

“CAMIE, GET YOUR BROTHER AN ICE PACK!” Mitsuki’s voice bellowed from the kitchen.

Camie groaned, “But you’re literally already in the kitchen!”

“NOPE,” their mom snapped, stomping out into the hallway, dishrag in hand. “I’m not about to play nurse for a disrespectful brat who can’t keep his fists to himself!”

Camie rolled her eyes but looked back at her brother, whose face was starting to swell under his left eye. She sighed and disappeared into the kitchen.

A moment later, she returned and wordlessly handed him an ice pack. He took it with a grunt that barely resembled gratitude.

“Thanks.”

“He got you good,” Camie said, leaning over and poking the side of his eye gently.

Bakugou swatted her hand away. “Yeah? You should see his fucking face.”

Camie let out a snort. “How much trouble did you get in?”

“Can’t play Senior Night,” he said flatly, pressing the ice to his face like it was the only thing anchoring him to reality.

Camie’s jaw dropped. “Wait, what? Isn’t that, like… all you’ve been working toward this entire year well except for state but you know?”

“Yep.”

There was silence for a beat. He wiped a streak of blood from the corner of his lip with his thumb, still avoiding eye contact.

“Kat, you can’t seriously be okay with this,” Camie said, scooting closer to him on the couch. “Did you even try to talk Coach Toshi into giving you something else? Like cleaning the bathrooms every day or running laps till your legs fall off or—”

“There’s no point,” he interrupted. “Nobody changes that man’s mind. Not when he’s actually mad.”

“But Kat—”

“Cam,” he said, finally meeting her eyes, his voice quieter now. “I fucked up. I started it. I lost control, and I ruined my chance. And worse—I ruined his, too. So, no, I don’t blame Coach. I don’t even blame Monoma. I blame me.”

The small smile he gave her wasn’t smug or cocky. It was tired. Honest.

Camie blinked, surprised by how grown her brother sounded in that moment. She smiled back and leaned her head gently on his shoulder.

“Well… Mom’s pissed.”

Bakugou chuckled. “Yeah. She nearly crashed the damn car from yelling so much.”

They both sat in silence for a moment, the tension dissolving into muffled laughter that grew until it filled the room.

Chapter Text

“Guess that sucks for Ocha,” Camie said casually, stretching as she got up from the couch.

Bakugou looked up, one eye still swollen. “Why would she care?”

Camie gave him a look like he was the dumbest person alive. “Because she got chosen to make your senior basket.”

He blinked. “She did?”

“Yes,” Camie huffed, rubbing her temples dramatically. “And she freaked out when she found out. Called me right after she left the school, all like ‘Camie what the hell do I put in his basket? Why did I get him?’ MIND YOU But before she called me—me, her classmate,her best friend, and your sister—she asked Midoriya.”

She pointed at him like it was a personal offense.

Bakugou frowned. “Deku?”

“Yes! Like, excuse me? Not the sibling who’s known him since birth, no—let’s go to the green-haired notebook goblin for answers.”

He didn’t respond. He was still stuck on the image of Uraraka talking to Midoriya about him. Laughing with him. Smiling. Her smile wasn’t real when she saw me the other night, he thought, and for some reason, that bothered him more than it should have.

Suddenly, there was a knock on the front door.

Camie stopped ranting and glanced over, then back at him. “Don’t be mad, okay?”

“Don’t tell me,” Bakugou said, already pushing off the couch, eyes narrowing.

Camie practically sprinted to the door before he could stop her. She swung it open wide.

and there she was standing there with her arms crossed Infront of her looking...cute?... jeez he needed to take a nap

“HEY, CHAKO!” Camie yelled, throwing her arms around her practically strangling her.

“C-Ca—Camie—bitch I can’t breathe,” Uraraka gasped, trying to escape her bone-crushing hug.

Bakugou had to look away to suppress the laugh bubbling in his throat.

“Sorry,” Camie said with a pout, releasing her. Uraraka fixed her hair and gave Camie a soft pat on the head, smiling fondly.

“So,” she started, stepping inside, “about the basket for Mr. Katsuki McGrump—”

She stopped midsentence when she saw him on the couch. Her entire body language changed in a second—shoulders stiffening, voice dipping, hands fidgeting. She gave him a smile, but he knew immediately it wasn’t real. Not even close.

“Sup,” he muttered, trying to sound unaffected.

“Hi…” she replied softly, eyes darting to the side.

He hated how awkward it felt now. He hated that it was his fault it felt like this.

“You don’t… you don’t have to worry about that anymore,” he said slowly and rubbing the back of his neck.

She tilted her head. “Worry about what?”

“The basket,” he said, avoiding her gaze. “I can’t even play Senior Night. So… don’t waste your time.”

She was quiet for a few moments. she looked like she wanted to ask him a question but Then she just nodded.

Camie, always the queen of emotional radar, immediately stepped in. “Okaaay, wow, this got depressing. Come on, Chako, you’re helping me figure out what to wear for my uhhh date”

“Huh? Wait— date?-Camie—” Ochako started, but Camie had already grabbed her wrist and was dragging her toward the stairs.

Bakugou sat back down heavily on the couch, staring at the blank TV screen.

He exhaled sharply. “I gotta fucking call Kirishima.”

He pulled out his phone, thumb hovering over his contacts.

Because this wasn’t just about the fight or Senior Night.
It was about how badly he had messed everything up.

“Dude… you’re in love.”

Bakugou froze.

He was sitting on the floor of his bedroom, leaning back against his bed, phone on speaker next to him—and those words made his entire body tense like a loaded spring.

“WHAT THE HELL DID YOU JUST SAY?!” he shouted, loud enough to make his phone rattle on the hardwood.

“Jeez, man—my ears!” Kirishima whined dramatically. “You ever think of a warning for headphone users or something?”

“Kirishima,” Bakugou growled, his voice dangerously low. “Do not mess with me right now. What the hell do you mean I’m in… in—” He gagged on the last word like it was poison. “Love.”

Kirishima chuckled, totally unbothered. “Bro. You said she makes your stomach feel weird every time you see her. That’s butterflies.”

Bakugou’s jaw clenched.

“And then you said your face gets hot when you hear her talk. That’s blushing.”

“Shut up.”

“AND THEN,” Kirishima continued, undeterred, “you told me she’s one of the only people you don’t wanna make upset. Ever. Bro, you don’t even say that about me!”

The line went silent.

Completely.

Bakugou didn’t even grunt.

Kirishima furrowed his brow on the other end. “Uh… Earth to Bakubro?”

Still nothing. But then he heard a dull clunk. The phone had slipped from Bakugou’s hand and hit the floor.

“Katsuki?” Kirishima asked softly, half-concerned, half-holding back laughter.

“...Fuck.”

Kirishima lost it. Full-on belly-laugh, shoulders shaking on FaceTime.

Bakugou picked the phone up with a scowl, his cheeks burning red. “Shut. The. Fuck. Up.”

“OH THIS IS GOOD,” Kiri said through laughs, wiping a tear from his eye.

“I’m gonna hang up on you,” Bakugou warned, his tone deadly serious.

That got Kiri to finally stop. “Okay, okay—my bad. I’m chill. I’m chill.”

Bakugou sat there for a second, still not looking directly into the camera. He ran a hand through his hair, then mumbled under his breath, “...What the hell do I do?”

Kirishima blinked, surprised by how raw and real that question sounded. “Honestly? You don’t have to do anything if you don’t want to. You can keep it to yourself. Or…”

Bakugou glanced at the screen. “Or what?”

“Or,” Kiri shrugged, “you can make a move. Let her know how you feel.”

Bakugou scoffed, more out of panic than disbelief. “Why is this happening?” he muttered, almost to himself. “I’ve never even liked a girl before.”

There was a beat of silence, and then Kirishima smirked mischievously. “...Did you ever like a boy?”

Bakugou didn’t even respond.

He just reached for the red button and hung up.

Hard.

Chapter Text

“WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU TALKING ABOUT?!”

Bakugou’s voice exploded through the floorboards. Ochako actually clamped her hands over her ears.

“Jeez, that’s my brother for you,” Camie muttered, rolling her eyes.

Ochako let out a nervous laugh, still wide-eyed. “I was gonna ask… but, uh, what happened to his face? I didn’t want to be rude.”

Camie cocked her head. “How would that be rude?”

“I don’t know, Camie! Imagine I walked into your house, saw you with scars, and just blurted, ‘Hey, what’s wrong with your face?’ I’d feel like such an ass.”

Camie burst out laughing. “Okay, fair. Well, he got into a fight with some guy on his team.”

“Oh… is that why he can’t play Senior Night?” Ochako asked, voice softening.

“Yep.” Camie sighed, long and dramatic, like this was already exhausting her.

They were sprawled out on Camie’s bed, Ochako’s head resting in Camie’s lap while Camie lazily twirled pieces of her hair. The room smelled like vanilla lotion and there was a candle burning on the nightstand.

“You still gonna do the basket?” Camie asked after a minute.

Ochako shrugged. “I mean… student council already approved my budget, so I guess I have to. It’d be weird to back out.”

Camie grinned. “What did you two even talk about at the baseball game? I saw you with him—don’t deny it.”

Ochako let out a short laugh, rolling her eyes. “Not much. We just kinda… debriefed about everything.”

“And how’d that go?” Camie pressed, wiggling her eyebrows.

Ochako’s face fell. “It was bad at first. But then he brought up the spin-the-bottle thing—how he didn’t kiss me because he was confused. Said I… get in his head. Make him feel weird. But with other girls it’s like nothing. Honestly, it feels like he hates me.”

Camie froze. And then—she started laughing. Full-on, stomach-clutching giggles.

Ochako bolted upright, glaring. “Are you serious right now?!”

“Sorry, sorry!” Camie wheezed, trying to get control. “It’s just… girl. You two are the most delusional people I’ve ever met. That boy does not hate you.”

“Huh?” Ochako’s nose scrunched up. “Camie, that doesn’t make sense.”

“Yes it does!” Camie leaned back against her headboard, grinning. “Kat’s never talked about a girl like that. When his little fan girls come up to him, asking for his number or telling him how hot he is, he literally says ‘ew’. For a while I seriously thought he was gay.”

“Okay but—that doesn’t prove anything,” Ochako argued, shaking her head so hard her hair whipped around. “That doesn’t mean he likes me.”

“Riiighttt,” Camie drawled sarcastically, dragging out the word with a huge smirk.

Ochako narrowed her eyes. “I’m going home.”

“Chakooooo—” Camie called out as Ochako stomped out of the room, but Ochako didn’t even look back. Her friend had to be on something—thinking Bakugou Katsuki, of all people, could ever be attracted to her was insane. She needed to get far away from that idea before her brain exploded.

—

“Doesn’t that sound crazy?” Ochako said later that night, lying face-down on her bed, phone propped up on Facetime with Mina and Camie. She was so done with the day.

Mina tilted her head. “I dunno girl… I might have to agree with Camie on this one.”

Ochako shot up, nearly knocking her phone over. “Unbelievable.”

Mina and Camie smirked at each other on the screen, then both reached out and did a cheesy high-five to the air. Ochako groaned, slamming her face back into her pillow.

“They call me the nerd,” she muttered into the fabric.

“Aww, don’t be like that!” Mina teased.

“I’m going to bed.” Ochako didn’t even give them a chance to protest. She ended the call with a single, dramatic tap.

In the dark, alone with her thoughts, she tried to convince herself they were wrong.

But her heart wouldn’t stop beating weirdly fast.

Chapter Text

"YOU WANT ME TO WHAT?!" Ochako yelped, nearly dropping the basket in her hand.

"Please, calm down, Uraraka," Iida said, arms flailing in his classic panic-mode way as he tried to keep her from exploding. "All you need to do is call out the players’ names as they walk into the gym."

She blinked rapidly. "Iida, why can’t someone else do it?!"

"Well, Momo handled the decorations, Jirou curated the playlist, Kendo and Sato coordinated refreshments..." He pushed up his glasses with a dramatic flair. "Which leaves you as the only upperclassman in the student council who hasn’t contributed."

Ochako groaned, tossing her head back. “Ugh. That’s not fair.”

"It won’t be that bad," Iida continued, completely ignoring her frustration. "All you have to do is announce the name, number, and the nickname the crowd knows them by. That’s it."

She stared at him like he was crazy. “What if I don’t know their names? Or their nicknames?!”

"You’ll be fine," he said, pulling a neatly stapled packet from his folder and handing it to her. “Here’s the script. It has all 15 names, jersey numbers, and even phonetic spellings. It’s foolproof.”

She held the packet in her hands like it was a death sentence. and gave a strained nod

“I’ll take that as a yes,” Iida said cheerfully, spinning on his heel. “Now I must inform the coach!”

Ochako stood there in the empty hallway, shoulders slumping. “Why does the universe hate me,” she muttered, turning toward the gym with Bakugou’s gift basket still in her arms.

The gym was glowing—literally. Balloon arches decorated every entrance in UA’s signature gold and navy. Fairy lights were strung across the bleachers. The benches were adorned with flower arrangements, and on five special chairs, floral wreaths crowned framed photos of the senior players. Beside them stood massive life-size cutouts of each senior in their media day uniforms, their baby pictures taped lovingly at the base of each.

Ochako paused near Bakugou’s cutout. Her breath caught.

He looked exactly like he did in person—broad shoulders, arms crossed over his chest, the same pissed-off scowl on his face. The way his hair stuck up like he just woke up from a fight. The way he somehow looked mad and good at the same time.

“How can someone be that perfect,” she whispered, eyes tracing every detail.

Then she felt it—something wet at the corner of her mouth.

Was I seriously DROOLING? Her brain screamed.

“GET YOUR ACT TOGETHER, OCHAKO! WHAT IS WRONG WITH YOU?!” she hissed to herself, wiping her face furiously.

She looked up—and nearly screamed.
Because the real thing was standing right in front of her.

Bakugou. In full warm-up gear. Staring.

“The fuck is wrong with you?” he asked, raising an eyebrow.

Ochako jumped back like she’d been electrocuted. “N-Nothing! You just—get—game-ready—I—FORGET IT. Just forget you saw me!”

And with that, she turned and bolted out of the gym like her hair was on fire.

Bakugou watched her run, dumbfounded… and then chuckled. Actually chuckled.

“She’s such a damn weirdo,” he mumbled to himself.

A voice behind him piped up: “You know you’re never gonna get her if she keeps running away from you like that.”

He turned, already annoyed. “Shut the hell up, shitty hair.”

Kirishima threw his hands up defensively. “I’m just saying! The way you look at her, and she acts like your about to kill her."

Bakugou shoved his shoulder, making Kiri stumble. “Watch it.”

“BAKUGOU!” Kirishima gasped dramatically. “Don’t make me tell Coach you just put your hands on me!”

“Try it. I dare you.”

“Oh, and now you’re threatening me?” Kiri put his hand on his chest, mock-offended. “Such toxic behavior. Tsk tsk.”

“LEAVE ME ALONE, SHITTY HAIR!” Bakugou barked.

Kiri just laughed and jogged off toward the locker room. Bakugou lingered a second longer, glancing once toward the doors Ochako had run through.

Chapter Text

The lights dimmed, and the gym fell into a low hush. Then—boom—spotlights whipped across the floor, cutting through the dark like stage lights on opening night. The bleachers erupted with life.

Chants roared. Pom-poms shook in UA’s red and gold. Someone blasted an airhorn from the top row. Banners waved high in the crowd, glittering with phrases like “#1 GO BOOM 💥” and “DUNK IT DENKI!” One giant sign even had Bakugou’s face surrounded by hearts and explosions.

Ochako Uraraka sat stiffly behind the announcer’s table, script clenched so tightly in her hands it was getting crinkled. Her mouth felt dry. The mic in front of her looked way too intimidating now.

“You got this,” Momo whispered gently, squeezing her shoulder before heading to her seat.

Ochako nodded and took a breath. The music dipped to a lower hum, and from the sidelines, Iida gave her a confident thumbs-up. The spotlight shifted to the gym doors.

She flipped on the mic.

“AND NOW,” her voice boomed a little louder than intended, echoing sharply off the walls. She winced, quickly adjusting the volume. “Let’s meet your UA Varsity Boys’ Basketball Seniors!”

The crowd exploded.

“NUMBER 44, THE WALL, EJIROU KIRISHIMA!”

Kirishima jogged out onto the court grinning, throwing up both fists and flexing dramatically for the crowd. Students shouted his name as he played it up with a deep laugh, then plopped onto the bench, sweatband already sliding from his forehead.

Ochako chuckled to herself and shook her head, stepping away from the mic for a second to hide her smile.

“NUMBER 7, MR. ME-BOUNDS, DENKI KAMINARI!”

Denki darted out with a wild grin, tossing finger guns and pretending to electrocute himself—complete with over-the-top spasms that made him nearly trip over his sneakers. The crowd lost it. Girls screamed. Someone from the second row yelled, “MY MAN DENKI!!”

“NUMBER 19, UA’S SNIPER, SERO HANTA!”

Sero moonwalked onto the court, throwing his arms out wide and spinning in a slow goofy circle. The students laughed and cheered, a few yelling, “LET’S GOOO TAPE MAN!”

Ochako rolled her eyes but was clearly amused. This was actually fun. Then she glanced at the next name and her smile faltered slightly.

Monoma.

Her tone dropped just enough to be noticeable.

“Number 3… the Turbo… Monoma Neito.”

He strutted out like he owned the court, clearly eating up the crowd’s cheers. Some girls in matching shirts with “Team Neito” written in gold foil screamed his name. Ochako didn’t clap.

The coach, standing behind her, gently tapped her shoulder and gave her a scolding look. She sighed and offered a quiet apology.

Then she saw the final name on the list.

Her breath caught.

“And finally…” she started, her voice cracking slightly. “Number 1… D-Dynamite… Katsuki Bakugou.”

The moment the number left her lips, the bleachers erupted.

People stood up. Girls shrieked. One voice yelled, “BAKUGOU PLEASE DATE ME!” and Ochako instinctively gagged away from the mic. That was definitely a grown woman. Weird.

But when she looked back toward the court—there he was.

Katsuki Bakugou didn’t do a silly walk, didn’t raise his hands or smirk for the crowd. He just strolled out with that calm, terrifying focus of his. Like he didn’t need to do anything extra.

And yet, somehow, everyone screamed louder.

He walked right past the chaos, ignoring the posters, the cheering, the shouting… His eyes locked with hers.

He didn’t look away.

Ochako's heart skipped. Her stomach twisted. Her whole body froze for a second.

He kept staring—until he finally dropped onto the bench.

Snap out of it, she told herself, cheeks burning.

Coach Toshinori stepped up to the mic now.

“Sadly, two of our seniors won’t be playing tonight due to circumstances,” he said, his voice calm but kind. “But we still want to honor their dedication, leadership, and three years of excellence on this team.”

That was her cue.

Ochako rose quickly and met the other student council members in the hallway, where their carefully decorated gift baskets sat in a neat line. Momo handed Ochako the one labeled Katsuki Bakugou.

“Good luck,” Momo whispered with a teasing grin.

Back in the gym, the lights came up and the crowd clapped as the five student council members walked across the court, each one holding a basket.

Ochako’s hands were sweating.

She finally stopped in front of him.

He was looking up at her now, legs spread, elbows on knees, that usual scowl softened just enough to make her forget how to breathe.

“Hey…” she said, trying not to sound nervous.

“Hey,” he replied, voice low.

There was a pause.

A long one.

“You gonna give me that?” he asked, lips twitching into something close to a smirk.

“Oh—yeah. Of course!” she sputtered, holding the basket out.

Their hands brushed.

Ochako froze.

He took the basket from her carefully. “Sorry,” she mumbled.

“It’s fine. You didn’t do anything wrong,” he said, scratching the back of his neck, his eyes darting to the floor.

There was another beat of silence.

“I’m sorry you can’t play today,” she blurted, surprising herself. “I… I would’ve loved to see you out there.”

His eyes snapped up.

“Oh…” he muttered. “Yeah. It was my own damn fault anyway.” His glance shifted, and his jaw tightening. 

Ochako followed his gaze for a second, then realized what he was staring at—her shirt.

A jersey-style tee with his number, his name, and even a photo of him printed on the front. Mina had convinced her to wear it. At the time they all had matching shirts even his mom and dad joined in, she thought it would be funny. Now, it felt like it was glowing under a spotlight.

“Oh—uhm. Bye!” she squeaked, spinning on her heel and rushing toward the bleachers.

She launched herself into the seat between Camie and Mina, heart pounding out of her chest.

bakugous face felt warm This girl is gonna kill me, Bakugou thought, still gripping the basket tighter than he meant to.

Chapter Text

“WHOOOOHOOOOOO!” Kirishima roared, his voice echoing through the gym as the scoreboard blared their victory. His last-second dunk had been the perfect ending, the crowd erupting in cheers that rattled the bleachers. Students were stomping their feet, parents clapping wildly, and banners with UA SENIORS waved from every direction.

“That’s what I’m talking about!” Kaminari shouted, charging straight at Kirishima, scooping him up in his arms—only to lose his balance and crash to the hardwood.

“Damn it, Denki!” Kirishima groaned, shoving him off with a laugh as the two tangled on the floor.

“My bad, dude,” Kaminari grinned, hands shooting up in mock surrender.

“Y’all are insane,” Sero said, walking past them, shaking his head but smiling. His camera was already out, catching clips of the chaos for his next highlight reel.

This was the win they needed. The win that put them into the conversation for states in America. After a losing streak that had nearly crushed their spirits, this night was supposed to be redemption.

And it was.

For everyone but Bakugou.

He stood by the bench, towel slung around his neck, watching his teammates celebrate on the court with fans flooding the edges. He told himself he was proud. He told himself it didn’t matter. But his chest ached as the thought struck like a knife: They don’t need me. Not as much as I thought.

The words he never said out loud whispered in his head: Sorry-ass captain.

He clenched his fists, nails digging into his palms until it hurt. His eyes shifted—because he couldn’t help it. They always found her.

Ochako.

She was in the crowd, standing with Mina and a few others, still in her student council sash from organizing the senior night. Her hands were full—Bakugou’s basket, the one she’d made for him, still tucked safely against her hip. She was smiling faintly at the energy in the gym, but when his eyes locked on her, his heart dropped.

A sorry-ass person too.

“You good, man?” a voice broke through the noise. He didn’t need to turn—he knew it was Kirishima.

“I’m fine,” Bakugou muttered, not moving his gaze.

“You sure? ‘Cause you se—”

“I said I’m fucking fine!” Bakugou snapped, shoving him with a shoulder before storming toward the hallway.

“Jeez, sorry, man,” Kirishima muttered behind him, his voice carrying that annoyingly concerned edge.

The further Bakugou walked, the quieter it got. The roaring gym muffled into a distant hum, replaced by the squeak of his sneakers on the polished floor. He barely had time to breathe before he was intercepted.

“Katsukiiii!”

His mother’s voice was like nails on glass. Before he could sidestep, Mitsuki had him wrapped in a bone-crushing hug.

“I know you didn’t get to play, but to think this is one of your last high school home games—my heart hurts!” she said dramatically, squeezing tighter.

“Get off of me, you h-hag—I can’t breathe!” Bakugou sputtered, trying to peel her arms off.

“Don’t act like you’re too good to show your mother some love, Katsuki!” she snapped, smacking the back of his head.

His eye twitched.

“Good job, Kat,” Camie chimed in, leaning against the wall with her lazy grin.

“Good job on what?” he barked.

“Being the best benchwarmer there is. High five.” She held her hand up, then dropped it with a smirk when he didn’t move. “Lame.”

Masaru gave his son a gentle pat on the back while Mina ruffled his hair.

“Can everybody just leave me the hell alone?!” Bakugou finally exploded. His voice bounced off the walls. Everyone flinched back—except Ochako. She froze, lips pressing together, but he caught the way her shoulders jerked slightly at his tone.

“Alright, alright, we’ll leave him alone. Let’s go, guys,” Camie said quickly, tugging Mitsuki away before she could scold him even more. One by one, they drifted down the hallway until only one person remained.

Her.

Bakugou’s hand shot out before he could think, fingers circling Ochako’s wrist and pulling her back.

“Say it,” he demanded, his voice low but sharp.

Ochako’s wide brown eyes blinked up at him, startled. “S-Say what?”

“You’ve been looking at me like you wanted to say something this whole damn time.” His grip loosened instantly once he realized what he was doing. He yanked his hand back like it burned. “...Sorry.”

“It’s fine,” she whispered, rubbing her wrist. Then, softer: “I was just gonna—well—I wanted to ask... I mean, if you needed it—but your mom already—”

She stumbled over her words, flustered and frustrated with herself.

Bakugou couldn’t take it. With a huff, he slapped his hand gently over her mouth, his palm warm against her skin. Her entire face flushed pink.

“Cheeks,” he said, using that dumb nickname before he could stop himself. “Take a second. Collect your thoughts. Then say it.” His voice softened, almost amused. He pulled his hand away slowly.

“Okay,” she breathed, gathering herself. “Right.” Her eyes flicked to his, steady for once. “I noticed how sad you looked on the bench. And I know your family tried to joke about it, but... I just wanted to say—the team would’ve been just as good with you on the court.”

Bakugou’s brows furrowed, skepticism tightening his jaw. “That’s funny. Because the only win we’ve had in weeks was the one I didn’t play in.” His back hit the wall as he leaned against it, staring at the ground.

“But you’re a great player, Bakugou,” she said firmly, stepping closer until her shoulder almost brushed his. “No one just gets D1 scholarships for no reason. You’re in the top fifty high school players in Japan. That’s... huge.”

“That doesn’t mean shit if I can’t even focus on my sport,” he muttered, his teeth grinding together.

Her voice grew steadier, stronger. “Then what are you so worried about? What’s distracting you so much?”

Her question hung in the air like a challenge. She was waiting—demanding an answer.

Bakugou’s chest tightened, the words clawing at his throat. There was only one truth. Only one thing that came to mind every time he faltered, every time his game slipped.

His eyes finally met hers, burning.

“You.”