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spicyfloaty · 3 years

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Give & Take | Chapter 9

pairing: kacchako

genre: slowburn/fluff

words: 4.5k

summary: Ochako's grades are slipping. Bakugo is dangerously nearing suspension, or worse, expulsion. A certain twist of fate pairs them together for tutoring sessions. He teaches her math. She keeps him from getting suspended. A simple exchange, but what if this only brings them closer than necessary?

header credits: @alexbenedetto

[READ ON AO3]

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine: Mornings with Bakugo

Ochako was a morning person, the kind who purposefully wakes up before the sun does just so they could witness the day start. She had always loved early mornings back at home since it gave her the chance to cook her parents breakfast and see them off to work soon after. Getting a head start to a new day was a principle and routine she had stood by before her father got hurt on the job.

Ever since her father’s injury, Ochako somehow morphed into the night owl she never thought she’d become. Despite this, the only reason you would catch her up late at night was either because she just got off of work or because she was finishing up some homework, both being tasks she was not too happy to do. She rarely got the chance to enjoy being a morning person, since late nights would require late mornings, which were much different from the early mornings she used to love.

Today was a blessing. Ochako had spent her entire Sunday holed up in her room to study for all her subjects, finishing all of her homework early on before it gets the opportunity to steal away precious hours of sleep later at night. Those precious hours, she made sure to spend them wisely by actually sleeping early that time.

Ochako takes another crunchy bite of toast, looking over to watch the first rays of sunshine spill from the rows of tall, glass windows. A soft, honey, morning glow bathe the dorm’s kitchens, tables, and common area. She takes a deep breath, basking in the comforting silence of the empty dining hall. She closes her eyes and groggily smiles into another sleepy bite of her toast, It’ll be awhile before I get a time like this again.

“Hey.” A familiar voice huffs.

Ochako drops her toast and almost jumps off her seat, a surprised squeak escapes her as she whips her head to see Bakugo standing beside her. He had both hands tucked in the pockets of his sweatpants, red eyes peering down at her waiting for a response.

“God,” Her whole body sags in relief as she brings a hand up to her chest, “You almost gave me a heart attack.” She breathes out.

His eyes narrow, the rest of his expression unchanging, “What’s the derivative of cosine?”

Ochako tilts her head as her eyebrows knit together in confusion, “Good morning to you, too?”

“You’re still not answering the question.” He says impatiently.

The cogs in her mind have yet to completely wake up in order to fully function and comprehend what’s going on. Bakugo doesn’t usually wake up until much later so why the sudden change in schedule? Ochako rubs her tired eyes to double check if she’s seeing things right, but alas, Bakugo was still standing in front of her, proving that she was in fact not hallucinating.

“Wait, what is this again, exactly?” She asks.

His lips curl in disdain, “What does it look like I’m doing? I’m obviously quizzing you.”

“At six in the morning?” She hears the morning rasp in her voice. How, where, and when did he get the idea of doing this on the earliest crack of dawn and on top of that, how is he managing to not sound or look like someone who just woke up?

“So?” Bakugo prods, one eyebrow raised.

“I’m barely awake, Bakugo.” She says hoarsely, her words slow and steady much like how a person still coming out of sleep would sound like.

Two seconds hardly pass after the last syllable of her sentence when Bakugo swiftly leans towards her until their faces are mere centimeters away from each other.

“Hey!” Ochako yelps, hastily leaning back before their noses could touch.

“You look pretty awake to me, round face.” He deadpans, the space between their faces still a finger’s width apart.

She places both hands on his chest to push him away, which unfortunately didn’t do much since she might as well be trying to move a statue, “Okay, jeez, I get it!” Her face turns to the side to hide the deep shade of red flooding her cheeks. “Personal space, Bakugo, have you heard of it?”

“Answering the goddamn question, have you heard of it?” He fires back, finally stepping away to give her some room to recover.

“Fine,” She drags her fingers through her unkempt hair, Ochako’s self-consciousness wasn’t awake enough for her to care how haggard she looked in front of him, “What was the question again?”

Bakugo folds both arms across his chest, “Derivative of cosine.”

Ochako looks away for a moment, squinting her eyes in concentration as the tiny Ochakos in her head scurry about in her head rummaging for an answer. Her eyes find their way back to his expectant ones once she has the right one, “Negative sine.”

Bakugo nods, walking away to head for the kitchens. A sigh of relief escapes her lips as she thanked her lucky stars that she somehow managed to give the correct answer without being a hundred percent sure of it.

She picks up the piece of toast on her plate, taking another bite while her eyes follow Bakugo’s movements as he moved around the kitchen, grabbing some items from the fridge and cupboards. His back was to her as he settled in front of the stove, grabbing a pan in preparation to cook a meal.

Ochako’s thoughts wander to more obvious questions such as why Bakugo was up this early in the morning when he usually wakes up around the same time Kirishima does, which was much later than now. Bakugo was the type to sleep early, so maybe he had coincidentally woke up and got hungry the same time as her today? Did she somehow mess up her alarm’s volume, accidentally setting it off on full blast, thereby waking Bakugo up since they’re on the same floor? No, that’s not it, she would have woken up the entire fourth floor if that were the case.

She drops the thought soon after, deciding that it was none of her business. Her eyes shifted to Bakugo once again as she took another crisp bite of her toast. From afar, Ochako notices the dampness of his hair, its usual explosive nature had it spiking through every direction, but now they were more down than up. He must have just gotten out of the shower before he got here.

Ochako’s gaze drop to the shape of his back, his muscles flexing as Bakugo reached for one of the spices on the top shelf. It was easy to look at since his tank top left the skin on his arms and most of his back bare. She wonders how much of his free time was spent training since it would certainly take a lot of time to sculpt and tone muscles like his.

Her eyes widened as she realized how inappropriate her thoughts were getting. She shakes her head free of those unnecessary thoughts, bringing her attention back to her breakfast and calls out to him, “So was that the last question or...?”

“No.” Bakugo says, setting his spatula aside, “I’m quizzing you the whole damn day, round face.”

“The whole day?” She sputters in disbelief. Ochako had thought that this was just something he planned on doing this morning.

“What did I just say?” He bites. She doesn’t need to see his face to know that he was frowning, she could already hear the scowl in his voice.

“When?”

“When I say so.” He says with finality. Bakugo turns around, holding two plates of the meal he had just finished cooking. She had expected him to move past her to sit at one of the tables behind her, but instead, he places his meal beside hers and takes the seat on her left.

“Um, Bakugo?”

“What.” He asks through a mouthful of rice.

“Why are you sitting next to me?” Her question was out of genuine confusion and had no intention of sounding rude, but it seemed to come off that way nonetheless.

“The hell kind of question is that?” He bites, shooting her a nasty look, “You got a problem with me being here?”

“No!” She shakes her hands nervously, “It’s just that, um, you usually sit over there.” She says sheepishly, pointing to the tables behind them.

Bakugo’s eyebrows draw together, his lips twisting to a frown, “I can do whatever the hell I want and I--” He scoots his chair nearer to the table in protest, “feel like sitting here.”

“Why--”

“What’s the derivative of negative cosine?” He interrupts.

“Sine.” She instinctively answers.

“Good.” He says, returning to his meal. Ochako chooses to do the same since he had made it quite clear that he wasn’t answering any more questions from her. She thinks about how Bakugo could have done this whole quizzing thing of his during their sessions instead of breaking off of their regular tutoring schedule. Come to think of it, Bakugo and her don’t usually interact that much outside of their sessions, so him eating breakfast with her is definitely something new.

Ochako hears a strained yawn coming from the staircase and sees Kaminari stretching his arms in the air. He walks past the kitchens, eyes widening to the size of saucers when he spots the both of them. Kaminari’s face morphs to that of someone who had just uncovered the holy grail, his mouth forming the beginning of a sentence only to be interrupted by Bakugo.

“Keep walking, Dunce Face.” He hisses, eyes not leaving his plate.

Kaminari turns to Ochako and she shrugs as if to say, “I don’t know what’s going on either.”

He walks towards the couches, wide, questioning, eyes still trained on both of them, “That’s all your gonna eat?” Bakugo asks, pointing his chopsticks to the piece of bread on her hands.

“Yeah?” Ochako’s breakfast had always consisted of the cheapest alternative, but it’s not like she was starving herself. She thinks back to days when she’d be eating costly food like tuna and salmon whenever she’d receive an especially good tip from patrons the day before. Ochako’s mouth waters at the memory.

A pair of chopsticks place a helping of fish on her plate, “Tch, You’re an idiot if you think that’s gonna last you through the day.” Bakugo sneers.

“Oh, you don’t have to.” She quickly tries to decline, that is very expensive looking fish.

His eyes stare daggers into her soul, “Do you really want to argue with me about fucking fish?” He snaps.

“No, but--”

“Then just take the damn thing already, Jesus.” Bakugo grumbles.

Ochako hears a faint squeal coming from behind them. She turns to see Mina with Kaminari peeking from the couches, both of them whipping their heads back to the television as soon as she catches them staring. When did Mina get here?

She directs her attention back to the meal before her, unwrapping the spare chopsticks on the table before starting to pick the fish apart.

“You’re doing it wrong.” Bakugo suddenly bites, his face scrunching up at the sight of her work.

“No, I’m not.” She protests. She was just preparing it just as she’s always done before and as far as she knew, there was nothing wrong with it.

“Yes you fucking are.” He argues, “You start here and work your way to the tail.” Bakugo's arm brushes over hers as he leaned towards her, pointing to the back of the fish’s head to its tail. He turns to her, “Got that?”

“Yeah” She mutters, ignoring the slight contact of skin. Ochako does as she’s told, working her way to the tail. She takes her first bite of fish and her eyes widen twice her size, “This tastes amazing.” She takes another bite before turning to him, “How did you do that?”

She knew he could cook, but she didn’t know he was this good at it. She scarfs down another couple bites of his cooking, her taste buds bursting with joy and delight.

“Why the hell do you look so surprised?” Bakugo’s face scrunches up in confusion, “It’s basic ass seasoning.”

Ochako can’t help but close her eyes and smile as she savors every single bite with gusto, “Weirdo.” Bakugo mutters with a bewildered expression on his face.

She starts to debone the rest of her fish under Bakugo’s guidance when she hears another strained squeal from behind them, this one being louder than the last. She turns to see that the couches were now occupied by Kaminari, Mina, Kirishima, and Sero, watching them as if they were a newly opened attraction at the zoo. Kirishima slaps his hand to his mouth as four of them whip their heads back towards the TV.

She feels Bakugo bump her shoulder, “Focus.” He snaps impatiently, “You’ll end up choking on a fucking bone if you don’t do this properly.”

Both of them eventually finish their breakfast, with Ochako making a conscious effort not to get distracted by their peeking audience. Bakugo collects his empty plates, standing up from his seat, red eyes landing on hers.

“What’s the derivative of tangent.”

Ochako sighs, “Secant squared.” I almost forgot about that one.

---

“You two have gotten really close, Ochako, ribbit .” Asui observes, sitting beside Ochako’s desk, Hagakure in tow. She didn’t notice her approaching since she was preoccupied with a practice question on her textbook. Yes, I study during free periods in between classes, sue me.

“Who?” She asks.

“Bakugo.”

“Oh no, not really.” She replies dismissively, “We don’t really do much other than argue and study.” She chuckles nervously. She wasn’t lying, the only reason why they seemed so close was the fact that they were studying together, no more, no less.

“He literally ate breakfast with you!” Hagakure squeals, her uniform bouncing up and down in excitement.

“Come on, Hagakure that doesn’t mean anything.” She looks away, her hand scratching the back of her neck.

“It does when it’s Bakugo!” Hagakure insists.

“She’s right,” Asui agreed, “Bakugo usually sits alone during breakfast ribbit.”

Ochako shakes her head in response. It was just breakfast, there was no subliminal message between two people eating together, plus Bakugo probably just sat next to her so he could do his little quizzing plan with ease.

“You should see the way he looks at you all the time!” Hagakure adds, her skirt vigorously swishing from side to side.

“With annoyance and distaste?” Ochako quips. She couldn’t exactly recall a time when Bakugo had looked at her fondly or even longingly, so it's puzzling for her to be hearing such claims from her friend.

Before Ochako could add to her argument, she’s startled by a voice that booms from the back of her seat, “Oi.”

She whips her head to face the frowning blond behind her, “You have got to stop sneaking up on me like that, Bakugo.” She exhales.

He squints his eyes at her, ignoring her remark, “The limit of one over x.”

Ochako narrows her eyes right back at him. This was the eighth time, probably more, that he had come up to her unannounced to randomly quiz her. He wasn’t even asking questions at this point, it was just an unfinished statement waiting for her to fill in the missing blank, “X is approaching what?” She asks.

“Zero.” He continues to stare her down, as if to pressure her into spitting out the wrong answer.

She lifts her chin, immune to his intimidation tactics, “The limit doesn’t exist.”

Bakugo nods and wordlessly heads back to his seat. Ochako only then notices the dumbfounded looks on their classmates’ faces.

“Is this a new kind of flirting I haven’t heard about?” Kaminari asks, eyes shifting back and forth from her to Bakugo.

“I don’t know, looks pretty hot to me.” Mineta shrugs, leaning against Kaminari’s desk.

“You’d think a lamp post was hot if we put a skirt on it.” Kirishima retorts, giving Mineta a genuinely concerned look.

The purple-haired student crosses his arms in mock offense, “Oh shut up, I have taste.”

Boisterous laughter erupts from Mina and Jirou, both girls’ arms grabbing at their sides as Jirou almost falls from her seat, “He says he has taste!”

Thankfully, the spotlight shifts to Mineta, away from her and Bakugo, as he continues to defend himself. She glances at his direction to see that his eyes were already trained on her, an unreadable expression hanging on his face. Ochako quickly turns away to face her friends once more, sputtering a new topic for them to talk about. Despite this, Hagakure’s words still echoed from the back of her mind.

Ochako had definitely seen the way he looked at her.

---

The resounding ring of the lunch bell marks the end of fourth period. Ochako put away her books and started to make her way out of the classroom when Midnight suddenly calls her to the teacher’s desk.

“Yes, Ms. Midnight?”

“Uraraka-san, would you please be a dear and bring these papers to Aizawa,” she gestures to the stack of paperwork bundled in her arms, “I have to rush over to a meeting with Principal Nezu in five.”

“Of course!” Ochako takes the papers off her hands without hesitation, a bright smile stretching over her face, “I’ll bring it to him right away.”

“Thank you so much, dear.” Midnight purrs. Ochako gives her teacher another warm smile before heading outside, “Fabulous job on your essay by the way!” She calls out from the classroom.

Ochako looks back at the grinning brunette, “Don’t tell anyone, but I gave you an A plus!” She adds, bringing a manicured finger to her lips as she winked at her.

She chuckles at this, Midnight had said that quite loudly for someone who meant for it to be a secret, “Thanks, Ms. Midnight.”

Ochako rushes to the hallway to catch up to her friends. She nudges Iida with her shoulder since both of her hands were occupied as of the moment, “Uraraka! There you are!”

“You guys can go ahead without me,” she gestures to the bundle of paperwork she was carrying, “I’ll be at the teacher’s lounge for a bit.”

“Sure, we’ll be waiting.” Deku says, offering her a small smile.

She musters an awkward, tight-lipped smile before heading towards the other direction. Ochako had only gotten a few steps in before feeling a tap on her shoulder. She turns to see Bakugo, fierce, red eyes zeroing in on her once again.

Ochako was somewhat glad to know that he had learned to not sneak up on her anymore.

“Cosine of pi.” He says flatly.

Her lips curl into a smirk, “Negative one.”

“You guys are the weirdest couple ever.” Kaminari announces as the rest of Bakugo’s friends caught up with him and as if on cue, both him and Ochako objected.

“We’re not a couple.”

“Aw, they’re so in sync!” Kirishima gushes, “You sure you didn’t rehearse that beforehand?”

Bakugo sends a spine-tingling glare to the redhead’s direction, “Kidding, kidding.” He says, laughing nervously.

Ochako turns to Bakugo, “Got anything else you want to ask?” She urges. He might have another question ready to throw at her for all she knows.

“Yeah, what the hell is that? ” He barks, gesturing to the stack of papers in her arms.

“Let me rephrase,” She began, “Got anything else you want to ask nicely?”

Bakugo rolls his eyes, “What’s that?” He asks through grit teeth. All three boys behind him bring their hands to their mouths to stop themselves from laughing, “Shut the fuck up.” Bakugo hisses at them.

“Some papers for Mr. Aizawa,” She smiles, satisfied with the change in his tone, “and speaking of, I gotta go.”

She turns to Bakugo, “If you have any more questions, you know where to find me.”

Ochako quickly waves them goodbye as she briskly walked towards the faculty room’s direction. It wasn’t a long way from where their classroom was located, but the journey felt like forever because of the weight on her arms. This was a heavy stack of papers.

She finally reaches her destination when she feels another tap on her shoulder. Ochako half expected to see Bakugo’s frowning face again, but she turned to see a tall, lanky boy with a seemingly crooked nose smiling at her, “Uraraka, right?” He asks.

Her eyes shift to the shorter, pudgier boy beside him, then back to the lankier one, trying to recall if she knew them, “Yes?”

“It really is you!” The shorter one beams at her.

Ochako smiles nervously, “Can I help you?” Her eyes were still shifting back and forth between the two boys, her mind trying to figure out why they looked so familiar. Had she seen them before at the sport’s festival? Or maybe walked past them in the cafeteria one time?

“This is Shintani,” The tall one gestured to his friend, “And I’m Kai.” He turns to her, still smiling, but something about the glint in his eyes tells her that he had something else up his sleeve.

“You’re in Class 2A, right?” Kai continues, “With Katsuki Bakugo.”

Bakugo? She thought to herself. Why bring him up all of a sudden?

“Yeah, I am.” She replies cautiously, the first signs of suspicion snaking its way to her gut. Ochako still couldn’t put her finger on where she had seen them before, but now with the sudden mention of Bakugo, she had all the more reason to stay on alert.

“Must be tough being classmates with someone like that, huh?” Shintani says sympathetically, like he felt the need to console her as if she had been dealt the worst hand of cards in a game.

“What are you talking about?” She asks quizzically.

“Oh, come on,” Shintani sniggers as if she had told him an inside joke, “You know how that animal gets.”

Kai nods in agreement, “A borderline savage, if you ask me.”

“But nobody asked you.” Ochako retorts, blinking back her shock afterwards. She hadn’t meant to say that, but a couple of strangers badmouthing Bakugo was getting on her nerves.

He turns to her, the kind smile on his face slips into a smug, lopsided grin, his facade instantly crumbling to partly show her what his true colors really were, “See this?” He asks, pointing to his nose, “That bastard did this to me.”

Ochako’s steps back, eyes widening in realization. The students from Class 2C. That’s why they looked so familiar. They were the ones she saw in that fight with Bakugo.

“I don’t even know why this school still lets him stay in the hero course.” Shintani adds.

Kai laughs before turning to her once again, “He only gives the rest of us a bad image, don’t you think so?”

Ochako’s grip on the stack of papers tighten as she takes a step towards them, “If both of you think that I’m going to join in some petty rant about Bakugo, then you’re barking up the wrong tree.”

She attempts to walk past them, but Kai steps aside to block her path, “You were matched up with him during last year’s sports festival, weren’t you, Ochako?”

“He was truly out of line treating you like some ragdoll he can throw around so easily.” Shintani adds.

Ochako’s face twists in annoyance, “First of all,” she begins, turning to Kai, “Do not call me by my first name.”

“Second,” She turns to Shintani, “He was fighting me seriously. That’s what you do in a competition.”

“And a piece of advice,” She steps closer to Kai, shoving a finger onto his chest. She didn’t know where she had gotten the strength to be able to carry the weight of Ms. Midnight’s paperwork with one hand, but it was there. “Don’t talk about someone like that when you don’t know the first thing about them.”

“And you do?” Kai challenges.

“I may not know Bakugo from head to toe, but I have enough decency in me to not walk up to random strangers to badmouth somebody I don’t know.” She bites back venomously before turning the other direction.

Before she could get any farther, Kai grabs her arm, his ironclad grip almost making her wince in pain, “Hey!” She protests.

“Come on, just hear us out--”

In a blink of an eye, Ochako is suddenly pulled away from his grasp. A tall, looming figure stood in between them, shielding her from both students.

“Don’t you fucking touch her.” Bakugo growls.

Ochako stares at him, wide-eyed. Bakugo’s back was to her, his shoulders rising and falling along the furious rhythm in each of his breaths.

Kai and Shintani fall back, fear and surprise flashing in both students’ eyes. Despite this, Kai nervously grins and takes a brave step forward, “Speak of the devil!”

“Shut the fuck up and piss off while you can still walk.” Bakugo snarls, his voice seething with malice.

Shintani follows in his friends footsteps and also steps towards Bakugo, “You’re all bark and no bite.”

“Walk away or I break your nose next .” He threatens. Ochako places her hand on Bakugo’s shoulder, her grip firm, “Bakugo, let’s just go.”

Bakugo doesn’t move, his body still rigid with rage, “You heard your girlfriend!” Shintani calls out.

“Unless you want to hit me again, I’ll show her what a real man looks like!” Kai taunts, making sure to look behind Bakugo to give Ochako a suggestive grin.

She feels him tense up even more under her palms as he begins to pace towards them. Ochako takes his hand and for the first time, Bakugo looks back at her, his expression livid, “They’re not worth it.” She warned, adding weight to every word she spoke.

Ochako holds his gaze as she gives his hand a gentle squeeze and for a moment, the anger in his eyes subside.

Kai takes another step forward, ready to hurl another insult at him when the door to the faculty’s office opens, “What seems to be the problem here?” Aizawa asks, hooded eyes flickering between Bakugo and the two students from 2C.

A bright smile works its way back to Kai’s face, “Nothing at all, Mr. Aizawa!” He beams, “We were just about to leave!”

Kai paced towards Bakugo, pausing so that he was directly beside him. “One of these days, when you least expect it, you’ll get what’s coming to you, Katsuki.” He says, barely above a whisper, but loud enough so that only Bakugo and her could hear it. Cold eyes still aimed forward, Kai walked away, Shintani in tow.

Aizawa turns to Ochako, his tired eyes dropping to Midnight’s paperwork, “Those must be from Midnight, bring them over here.” He instructs, walking back inside the office.

She feels Bakugo let go of her hand as he walked away, not even giving her the chance to talk to him. Ochako’s hand fold inwards as she stood there with a million questions swarming in her head.

“Uraraka.” Aizawa calls out from inside.

“Coming!”

33 notes · View notes

dallanebbia · 4 years

Text

agape

fandom: bnha pariring: kacchako; bakugou katsuki x uraraka ochako word count: 9.0k warnings: angst, mentions of panic attacks synopsis: ten ways to say ‘i love you’ – moments in the relationship between ochako and katuski. future fic, third year. notes: written for day 7 of kacchako week 2020, with the prompt ‘it was always you.’ this was the first fic i finished writing, and i threw a truck’s worth of tropes into this just because i could. i headcanon an empathetic, compassionate ochako and a soft, self-aware katsuki who grow and mature in their later years at u.a. ao3: [link]

agape – Ancient Greek, selfless, unconditional love

─── ･｡ﾟ❁ﾟ｡･ ───

March: With a hand on their shoulder, a song on your lips, or a carton of their favorite ice cream in the freezer.

On move-in day of her third year at U.A., Ochako confesses to Deku. She can’t say that she’s surprised when he rejects her, but she hides her real feelings behind a practiced, wobbly smile.

It feels like someone has just stomped all over her heart.

Within a few hours, the entirety of her class, along with Class 3-B, knows what happened. Nobody realizes that Ochako just doesn’t want to talk about it – people keep bringing it up to her, trying to be consoling, but it just makes her feel worse and worse.

Finally, when she can’t take it anymore, she hides away on the roof of the dorms, trying to find a moment of peace.

Ochako is alone, collapsed on the ground and crying when she hears the door to the roof scrape open.

“Oi.” Her heart drops. Aside from Deku, Bakugou is the very last person she wants to see right now.

“Leave me alone,” she croaks, wiping her cheeks with her sleeves. The fabric is damp, soaked through with her tears. It stopped being useful about ten minutes ago, but Ochako doesn’t really have the presence of mind to use anything else.

“Tch.” Her blonde classmate scoffs. “You’re seriously crying over the dumb nerd?”

“The last thing I need right now is your stupid gloating, Bakugou,” Ochako hisses, and glares at him. “Go. Away.”

Not that she thinks he’d actually listen, but she’s caught off guard when he squats down in front of her, elbows resting on his knees. “Forget about stupid Deku, Round Face. He’s a fucking dumbass.”

Her heart twinges, and a fresh round of tears fill her eyes. “You’re seriously not helping –”

“I thought you were better than this, Cheeks,” he says, and Ochako looks up to see Bakugou scowling. “So he doesn’t like you – tough shit. Pull up your big girl panties and move the fuck on. He’s a fuckstick who doesn’t deserve you anyways.”

She opens her mouth to retort, but pauses as the words register in her brain.

When the news spread, everyone who came to comfort her all said the same things - that Deku would come around, that he’d change his mind if she proved that she was better off without him. She knows that her friends mean well, but all she can focus on is the fact that everyone assumes that Ochako is the one who has to change – like she somehow isn’t good enough.

Bakugou – her occasional sparring partner, an acquaintance-turned-friend by virtue of exposure more than anything else – doesn’t even hesitate.

He doesn’t deserve you anyways.

“Don’t call him that,” she mutters, but there’s a tiny smile on her lips. Who would’ve guessed that the boy who had wanted to be King Explosion Murder would one day be comforting her? “You’re such an asshole.”

The blonde rolls his eyes. “I’m a fucking saint,” he snarks, and shoves a handkerchief into her trembling hands. “Stop crying already, you look ridiculous.”

Ochako glares at him again, but begrudgingly uses the black square of fabric to dab at her face. The heady smell of sugar and smoke fills her nose, and it’s the complete opposite of the clean soap scent she associates with Deku. It’s comforting, somehow.

“Move on, huh?” She laughs sadly. “You say that like it’s so easy.”

He flicks her in the forehead, and she yelps in surprise. “Nothing worth doing is gonna be easy, Round Face. You know that just as well as I do.”

It’s her turn to roll her eyes, but the words resonate deeply and leave her feeling pensive. She folds the handkerchief neatly and tucks it into her blazer pocket. “I’ll wash it,” she promises, but Bakugou waves her off.

“Keep it.” He stands, grabbing her wrist and hauling her to her feet. A familiar, challenging smirk that spreads across his face. “You’ll need it for when I beat your ass in the Sports Festival again this year.”

She scoffs, and even though she probably looks like a pathetic mess, she feels a little better. She can always count on Bakugou to not treat her like she’s spun glass.

Ochako sticks her tongue out, some of her grief dissipating without her even realizing it. “In your dreams, Blasty.”

─── ･｡ﾟ❁ﾟ｡･ ───

April: Casually, as if you don’t mean it. Trying like hell not to mean it.

From the stove, Katsuki listens to Uraraka make up some excuse to skip out on going out with her shitty friends for ramen. He looks over his shoulder – she’s smiling in a way that doesn’t quite mask the tight line of her mouth, and it’s so obvious that Frogface and Four Eyes exchange wary glances. Uraraka heads back upstairs, and as she leaves, Deku seems to visibly deflate.

“Maybe I should go talk to her,” he hears Deku mumble sadly, and Katsuki rolls his eyes before turning back to the pot of curry he has sitting on the stove.

“She probably wants some space.” Somehow, Half-and-half is the only one of their little group left with any sense, and it's really fucking pathetic.

“But isn’t it better if –” Katsuki tunes out the shitty nerd’s voice as they pass the kitchen and head to the front door, focusing back on stirring.

He tests the consistency, frowning as the curry comes out too thick, and turns up the heat a little as he adds some more stock. He’s usually pretty good about eyeballing the ingredients, but to be fair, the shitty nerd was jabbering away about something dumb with Icyhot. Usually, when things don’t go his way, it all leads back to Deku, one way or another.

He grabs the jar of hot sauce, and is just about to dump the entire contents into the pot when he suddenly pauses and thinks of Uraraka again.

Should he…?

Katsuki wages an internal war for about thirty seconds before slamming the jar onto the counter, grabbing a spare bowl. He doesn’t let himself think as he ladles a spoonful of curry onto a bed of rice, making sure that there’s a proper ratio of vegetables and meat to sauce, and places it off to the side as he dumps the hot sauce into the pot. He gives the curry a quick stir, turns the heat down low, and grabs a spoon before heading to the elevator with the bowl in hand.

It smells good, and even though it’s missing the familiar red tinge that comes from the hot sauce he loves, he knows that it tastes good too. Still, he can’t help it when a flutter of nervousness blooms in his chest.

There’s a stupid English proverb that comes to mind. The way to a man’s heart is through his stomach. Never mind that he’s flipping the roles around; he just hopes that Uraraka will like it.

Katsuki knocks on her door firmly, rapping his knuckles against the cheap wood. He can hear the shuffling of fabric, a low grunt, and then Uraraka is standing there. The frustrated look in her eyes fades at the sight of him, and he absolutely hates that his breath catches when she smiles at him.

“Oh hey, what’s up?” She sounds happy to see him, her tone totally different from earlier, and something in him glows in pleasure. Uraraka tilts her head to one side, before finally noticing the bowl of curry in his hands. Her eyes go round as dinner plates.

“I… I made too much.” He thrusts it towards her with one hand, averting his eyes. “Since you’re not going out with those extras, I just –”

“Oh, wow,” she says softly. She takes the bowl carefully, and when the skin of her fingers touches his hand, he feels goosebumps crawl up his arms. “It smells so good, Bakugou! Thank you!”

“Don’t mention it,” he grunts, and then shoves his hand into his pockets. She’s standing there, inhaling the savory aroma with a stupid smile on her face, and his nerves are frazzled as he blurts, “Well? Don’t just stand there, taste it!”

Uraraka blinks, looking at him with surprise. “Oh... oh! Yeah, let me just –” She balances the bowl in her palm, scooping up a mix of sauce and rice and meat before raising the spoon at him in a weird little toast. “Itadakimasu!”

She stuffs the entire spoon in her mouth, her eyes closing blissfully as she chews, and she does this ridiculous, adorable little wiggle that makes his heart thump pathetically in his chest.

“Oh my god, I love you so much,” she moans, and his mouth drops open in stunned shock. The sound of her voice jolts down his spine like ice. “I could kiss you.”

“W-what?? What the fuck, Uraraka?” he yelps, stumbling back a little. It’s not that he hasn’t imagined her saying things like that to him, but he isn’t exactly expecting to hear it right now.

Uraraka’s eyes flutter open, and there’s a split second of dreamy contentment on her face before the realization hits. She squeaks, and nearly drops the bowl in mortification.

“Oh god, I didn’t – I didn’t mean that to –” she stutters, her face turning red. “That came out wrong! I just meant that – I haven’t eaten since yesterday, and I wasn’t having a good day because I was missing my parents, and then you made this and I’m just – I’m really happy, I’m sorry –”

“Tch, it’s… it’s whatever, Cheeks,” Katsuki grumbles, heat crawling up the back of his neck. Uraraka’s words burn into his brain, cycling on repeat, and he suddenly, he feels like he could run a fucking marathon. He’s almost drunk on the feeling, and doesn’t even think as he blurts out, “Someone’s gotta keep you round.”

There’s a beat of silence, and then it’s his turn to freeze. “Fuck. I didn’t mean … shit, not that you’re fat or whatever, you’re hot, okay? I wasn't talking about your ass… fuck, I mean, your face! Your face, I was talking about…motherfucker –”

God, he wants to go die in a hole.

Uraraka stares at him as he snaps his mouth shut, hugging the bowl to her chest, and her face is a bright pink. “Um,” she squeaks. “Uh, I…”

The awkward silence between them is physically painful, and Katsuki is too mortified to move for about three seconds before he bolts for the stairs.

─── ･｡ﾟ❁ﾟ｡･ ───

May: Through laughter, over a chorus of voices, knowing it’ll strike home anyway. It’s meant for everyone here, after all.

Aizawa gives them the day off before the Sports Festival, banning them from training. Most people take advantage of the free day to relax and destress, but a few people still sneak into Ground Zeta for extra training before being lugged back to the dorms by Aizawa’s capture weapon.

Mina and Kaminari suggest a class bonding activity as everyone fixes their lunches. The slots for the impromptu Class 3-A Mario Kart tournament fill up quickly, but Ochako opts out to watch instead of participating. Most of the boys are quick to start the games, Bakugou included.

She hasn’t spoken to him since the curry incident, but the memory of it is something Ochako thinks about often. His awkward stammering had been both embarrassing and endearing, and even now, remembering the fumbling compliments makes her blush.

The most attractive boy in their class, and possibly in the entire school, thinks that Ochako is hot. It’s a surreal but amazing confidence booster, especially after the rough few weeks she’d had, and although Bakugou’s ears turn red whenever they make eye contact, he doesn’t suddenly ignore her and he doesn’t take it back.

Instead, he returns her glances with intense stares, ones that sometimes make her turn away from embarrassment. Their spars gain a playful edge, teasing out an odd, thrilling tension that leaves her face flushed and her cheeks aching from smiling.

It makes her heart beat a little faster every time she meets his gaze, and it’s different because she can see that it means something to Bakugou too.

It’s nice.

“Uh… is this seat taken?” Ochako snaps out of her thoughts to see Deku standing in front of her, looking sheepish.

She realizes with a sinking heart that the only available spot in the room is on the loveseat by her side. Mina and Tooru aren’t being discreet in the way they’re whispering excitedly while staring in their direction, and everywhere she looks, people are casting them curious glances.

It makes her a little angry, but Ochako pastes a smile on and says, “Go ahead, Deku.”

He lowers himself onto the cushion carefully, and she pulls her legs in so that she’s sitting in a ball, arms wrapped around her knees. She glances towards Bakugou, who’s staring at the TV screen and determinedly not looking in her direction, but somehow knowing that he’s there helps her relax a little.

“I’m sorry,” Deku says quietly, and Ochako holds back her sigh. They’ve had this conversation multiple times since she confessed weeks ago, and it was starting to grate on her. She was training to be a fellow Pro Hero – does he really think that she can't take a rejection?

“I know, Deku.” She tries to smile reassuringly. “I’m okay with it.”

“Still. I never wanted to hurt you, Uraraka.” Bakugou’s words come back to mind, and she has to bite back the tiny thread of resentment that sprouts in her chest. Deku said that before too. At this point, she wonders if the repeated apologies are for her benefit or his.

“Deku.” The green-haired boy looks up at her, a little surprised by the firmness of her tone. “I understand that you’re trying to be considerate, but you keep bringing it up when I already told you. I’m fine.”

“I just…” He trails off, frowning. “I just feel like you’re mad at me.”

“I’m frustrated,” she says candidly. “I’m trying to be mature about this, but you’re making it really hard for me to move on when you keep bringing up how sorry you are. Can we just agree to be friends and forget about it?”

“... are you okay with that?” He looks a little shocked, and so do some of her eavesdropping classmates. From the corner of her eye, she can tell that about half the room is listening to their conversation, but she doesn’t care. Ochako is sick and tired of people making offhand comments and references to her and Deku. She still has some feelings for him, but the combination of repeated apologies and continuous gossip have worn her down to where only frustration and exhaustion remain.

“Why wouldn’t I be?” she asks. Deku stammers, but Ochako doesn’t waver. “I love you as a friend, first and foremost. That hasn’t changed. But my world isn’t going to end just because you don’t return my feelings.”

“… Oh,” he mumbles, looking a little ashamed. “I didn’t mean to make you feel that way.”

“Well, you did.”

“I know you just said not to but... sorry,” he says quietly. “Last time, I promise.”

Ochako unfurls herself to lean over and give Deku a side hug. “Thanks. Friends?”

“Friends.” He smiles. “I love you too, Uraraka.”

There’s something bittersweet about hearing those words, but it doesn’t hurt as much as she thought it would. She opens her mouth to reply, but a heavy weight suddenly throws itself on her back.

“God, you guys are so manly,” Kirishima sniffs, leaning over the couch to wrap his beefy arms around the pair of them. “Bakubro, why don’t you ever tell me you love me?”

The disgusted look on Bakugou’s face is so funny that Ochako can’t hold back the tiny snort that escapes. “I hate you,” he says flatly.

“Love you too, bro!” Kirishima just calls back cheerfully, beaming despite the middle finger Bakugou aims in his direction.

“What the hell, why is Bakubro the one who gets an ‘I love you?’ ” Kaminari appears from behind a different couch like a gopher, looking offended.

Sero pops up right next to the electricity manipulator with a matching expression on his face. “Yeah, bro, what gives?”

Kirishima yelps as the pair of them lock their arms around the redhead’s neck, pulling him off of her and Deku as they start wrestling in a pile on the floor. Ochako can’t quite keep track of things, but in the span of a few seconds, Mina has jumped into the fray, dragging Jirou and Momo and Tooru along with her.

Aoyama leaps in too, somehow bringing Ojirou and Sato along for the ride, and Tokoyami’s protests are drowned out by Dark Shadow lifting him up and dumping him head first into the mass of bodies. The final addition comes as Todoroki nonchalantly tumbles into the chaos, dramatic declarations of love echoing above the music from Mario Kart playing in the background.

Despite her earlier frustrations, Ochako can’t help but sit back and watch the growing dog pile with a fond smile.

“God, I love you guys,” Mina crows loudly, and Ochako can’t help but join the chorus of voices that echo the sentiment. Across the room, she sees Bakugou sneering at the display of affection, scanning over the room until his gaze meets hers.

She smiles a little, raising her eyebrows at him in a silent question, and something she can’t quite name glows in her stomach when he rolls his eyes at her, the barest hint of a grin curled behind his hand.

─── ･｡ﾟ❁ﾟ｡･ ───

May: Slipped under your tongue, twisted into something else. “I trust you,” maybe. Trust them to figure it out.

The Sports Festival is bigger this year than it ever has been before. It’s everyone’s last chance to prove themselves, their final showcase before graduating, and nobody wants to go down without a fight.

Katsuki is pitted against Uraraka in the quarter-finals. The fight between them is an intense, heavy-fire version of tag that leaves him exhilarated, grinning wildly as they dodge and duck and weave around each other. Her quirk is leagues beyond where it was in first year, and it shows when Uraraka literally lifts the entire stadium floor out from under her feet before swatting him out of his Howitzer Impact like a fly.

He wakes up in time to watch the final matchup between Uraraka and Deku, and proceeds to spend the next twenty minutes screaming at the infirmary television in frustrated rage.

It’s painfully obvious that Deku goes easy on her. He pulls his punches, uses a fraction of One for All, and when he lets Uraraka push him out of the ring, Katsuki can see the incandescent, seething anger that emanates from her in literal waves.

That night, he finds her on the roof again, after the award ceremonies are over. She’s crying, but this time, there’s resentment and bitterness and fury in place of the brokenhearted grief. Her gold medal is lying on the ground by her feet, discarded to the side.

“You were right, you know,” she says, laughing hollowly. She doesn’t have to look to know that he’s there. “First place… it isn’t worth anything when you win it like this.”

He doesn’t say anything – he knows exactly how she feels, and he knows better than anyone that empty platitudes will only make things worse. Instead, he leans against the railing at her side, back facing the horizon, and quietly waits as she uses the handkerchief he gave her weeks earlier to mop at her face.

They stand there in silence, and at some point, Uraraka shuffles closer and closer until she’s leaning on him, head heavy against his arm. He slouches a little more so that she can rest against his shoulder, and watches her nuzzle against the sleeve of his gym uniform.

“Is it always like this?” she whispers, so low that he almost misses the words. “Feeling like you can never catch up, like you’re always walking in someone’s shadow?”

“Welcome to the club, Cheeks,” he says gruffly. Katsuki looks over at her, and she’s staring blankly into the setting sun, tear tracks shining on her cheeks and the bruise below her left eye a mottled green. “Membership includes being referenced in relation to the shitty nerd in every article you’re in for the rest of your life, toxic friendships, and a crippling inferiority complex.”

Uraraka snorts. “Any way I can get my member status revoked?”

“If you find out, let me know,” he mutters. “Been trying to get the hell out for as long as I can remember.”

She doesn’t answer, instead pressing the back of her hand against his wrist. Her skin is cool and dry, soothing against his perpetually warm body temperature, and Katsuki savors it.

“God, I’m going to be the biggest joke in all of Japan tomorrow.” Uraraka laughs a little wetly. “After today, after everyone saw how he just let me win – nobody’s going to take me seriously.”

She says it like she isn’t amazing – like she’s just another worthless extra, like she didn’t just single handedly hand his ass to him only a few hours earlier. She says it like she’s giving up, and what Katsuki was planning to say – something quippy and grouchy and vaguely encouraging – is replaced by words that say everything, all at once.

“I do,” Katsuki says quietly, and she stills. “I always have.”

Slowly, she draws away, pulling back so she can turn and face him head on. He keeps his gaze steady, even as he wants to look away.

Part of him hopes that she’ll take it at face value, take the words as encouragement and nothing else. Things would be easier if she did – he’d be able to take his feelings and hide them for days and months and years, like he’s done since she caught his eye back in their first year. He’d be safe for a little while longer, waiting for the perfect moment.

At the same time, a larger part of him wills her to read between the lines, to see underneath the surface, because this is the closest thing to a confession he can manage. She knows him – she sees him the way Deku never could, and she’s able to read him in ways that took Eijirou years to pick up.

She knows him, and when the realization crosses her eyes, he plucks the truth out and lays himself bare.

There’s no going back.

─── ･｡ﾟ❁ﾟ｡･ ───

May: Over a nervous smile, biting back the just-this-side-of-desperate hope they’ll say it back.

Ochako doesn’t know when her feelings start to change. It might have been the curry incident. It might have been the spars. It might have been that moment on the roof, and it might have even been the Sports Festival, two years ago.

What she does know is this: she’s in the middle of falling for Bakugou when she recognizes her feelings for what they really are, and what she feels is nothing like what she felt for Deku.

With Deku, she had felt like she was in freefall, somersaulting and trying to right herself when she didn’t know which way was up or down. It felt scary and frantic, and in some ways, she feels that she confused her fear with adrenaline and her admiration for love.

With Bakugou, it feels familiar. It feels like she’s standing on the sparring mats in Gym Zeta, intimate and safe, with the spark of competition and plenty of passionate intensity to keep things alive. It feels like a dance – an equal push and pull, an ebb and flow that works in tandem rather than apart – and she doesn’t have to chase after anyone because he’s facing her instead of leaving her to watch his retreating back.

So when Bakugou says those five words, she pulls back a little so she can look him in the eye. He waits, patiently, as she studies him, and even though she can see the hope and love and fear in his steady gaze, he never looks away.

“Are you sure, Bakugou?” She has to make sure.

He raises an eyebrow. “You really have to ask?” Yeah, I am.

Ochako reaches out, grazing her hand against his, and she swallows when Bakugou slowly slides his fingers between hers.

She stares at the sight of their entwined hands, and smiles a little when she feels him stroking her skin with his thumb. “Can I ask when you knew?”

“A while.” He’s quiet, watching their hands too. Red eyes flicker to meet hers, and he shrugs. “It’s always been you.”

Her heart soars. She comes in closer, and as she tilts her head up to look at him, Bakugou leans down to press his forehead to hers.

“I think I could fall in love with you,” she admits softly, her heartbeat pounding like drums in her ears. I think I’m already halfway there.

The words hang there, suspended in the space between them, and then he breathes in and smiles.

“Way ahead of you, Cheeks,” he murmurs. “Hurry up, will you?”

Something in her sings as he tugs her closer, and the touch of his lips to hers feels like coming home.

─── ･｡ﾟ❁ﾟ｡･ ───

June: Under your breath while the whole house sleeps, just before you have to leave for the day. More for yourself than for them.

When Ochako asks if he wants to tell people, Katsuki is torn. On one hand, he wants people to know – he wants to shout to the entire world that Uraraka Ochako is his, that she chose him in the end.

And yet, on the other, he’s selfish. He wants to keep her to himself for as long as he can, to learn everything about her on his own time, and when he makes his choice, Ochako agrees.

Keeping it a secret is laughably easy. They do everything like they did before – they attend class, hang out with their respective friend groups, and occasionally meet up to spar after school. To their classmates and the rest of the world, nothing has changed.

Behind closed doors, it’s a different story.

He wakes to all-encompassing warmth, hair tickling his nose and a pliant body tucked tight to his chest. The curve of Ochako’s back under his hand is soft, and when he tightens his hold on her, she snuffles a little into her pillow before settling back into sleep.

The light filtering through Uraraka’s cheap curtains is faint. He knows from experience that it’s probably around five in the morning, too early for any of his classmates or teachers to be awake. It’s the safest time for him to steal out of Ochako’s room and get back to the boy’s side of the dorms, but it’s harder and harder to leave each time he wakes up with his girlfriend gathered in his arms.

His girlfriend. The thought sends a dopey, stupid smile stretching over his face. It’s been close to two months since that day on the roof after the Sports Festival, but part of him still can’t believe it. Uraraka Ochako is his girlfriend.

Katsuki is pretty sure he’s the luckiest bastard alive.

He withdraws from her slowly, painstakingly peeling his body from hers. She whines a little at the loss of warmth, and he can’t help but melt a little when she gravitates towards the divot he left in the mattress, burrowing into the spot where his head lay on her pillow.

His clothes are in a crumpled pile by the foot of the bed, and he tugs on his pants carelessly, shoving his shirt over his messy hair. When he’s done, he rearranges the blankets around Ochako’s sleeping form, tucking them up to her chin. Her forehead peeks out from under her messy hair, and Katsuki brushes his lips against the little patch of skin, cupping the curve of her face as he does.

Here, staring down at his slumbering girlfriend, he’s struck by the familiar, sudden wave of affection that tempts him to stay.

“I love you,” he breathes, almost mouthing the words as he strokes her cheek gently. He watches as she nuzzles into his touch, smiling in her sleep, and tiptoes out of her room before he’s late for his morning run.

─── ･｡ﾟ❁ﾟ｡･ ───

August: With a soft sigh. Past exhaustion and frustration and despair, like it’s the only good thing left. Sometimes it is.

Neither she nor Katsuki are strangers to nightmares. They’re a given, at this point – most heroes suffer from them in one capacity or another, but it doesn’t make things any easier to deal with.

In some ways, Ochako is lucky – she’s used to working through the nightmares alone, and can still function around them. She doesn’t have to go to Katsuki for comfort unless it’s a particularly vivid dream, but the same couldn’t be said for her boyfriend.

Ochako wakes up to the low sound of her phone chiming. Her head is spinning from being woken up in the middle of a sleep cycle, but as she blearily squints in the darkness, she recognizes the ringtone as the one she set for Bakugou.

She picks up just before the call drops. “Hello?”

“Cheeks?” The whispered, raspy sound of Bakugou’s voice cracks in her ear, and she shakes off the last vestiges of sleep, concern shooting through her.

“Katuski? Are you okay?”

“M’outside,” he mumbles, and Ochako throws herself out of bed and nearly trips over the low tea table in her haste to get to the door. She throws it open, and Katsuki is leaning against her door frame. He’s shaking, bundled in a hoodie she recognizes as one he wears when the nightmares are especially bad. Worriedly, she cups a hand around his elbow and pulls him into her room.

She steers him to her bed, careful to avoid the table this time, and sits Katsuki on the edge. She gently pries his phone from his hand, ending the call and placing both of their phones on her desk, before she tugs at the hem of his hoodie.

With a slow, steady murmur of nonsensical words, she coaxes him out of his hoodie and sweats and shoes. Katsuki keeps his hands on her, seeking bare skin as she works, until he’s left only in his boxers. He makes a low, wounded sound when she briefly steps away to place his clothes on her desk chair, but he sighs as she returns into his arms, guiding him below her comforter. Ochako quickly sheds the large, oversized shirt she usually wears to sleep, leaving her in just her panties, and lets the rough, calloused hand on her thigh drag her into bed.

She lies on her back, sighing as her boyfriend settles his cheek against her left breast, ear pressed directly above her heart. He wraps his arms around her waist, miles of warm skin pressed against her body, and she carefully scratches across his scalp while he tries to lose himself in the sound of her heartbeat.

Fighting the lull of sleep, her other hand cradles his arm, using her thumb to rub back and forth soothingly. The trembling gradually stops, Katsuki’s panicked breathing evening out, and she hears a rough, heavy exhale before he rubs at her sternum with his nose.

“…Thanks.” He presses his mouth against the skin of her chest in a chaste kiss.

“Anytime.” Smoothing the spiky bangs away from his forehead, she leans forward to place a kiss of her own to his hairline. “You okay?”

She feels Katsuki swallow thickly, his weight falling on her more heavily. “Not really.” It’s the honest answer, and had it been anyone else asking, Ochako knows he would’ve lied. “But I will be.”

She hums, eyelids slowly getting heavier as the hand carding through his spiky hair moves slower and slower. Faintly, as she’s just on the edge of consciousness, she feels the blonde shift above her.

“I love you.” Ochako tries to keep her eyes open, but she can’t quite fight it any longer. “Go to sleep, baby.”

“Love y’too,” she slurs, and the last thing she hears is a quiet huff of amusement as she drifts off, warm and safe.

─── ･｡ﾟ❁ﾟ｡･ ───

October: Wrapped up in a question. How’s your day been, have you eaten, you know you can tell me anything, right? You know you can tell them anything. Right?

One day, after class, All Might gathers everyone to make an announcement: two applicants have finally been chosen for the exclusive one-year work study in America. The program starts right after graduation, set up with All Might’s old hero agency, and Katsuki grins in anticipation.

The work study is something that he’s been working towards since coming into U.A. He had submitted the application at the end of second year, along with most of their class, but he figures that he has it in the bag. There are two spots, and while Deku is a given, Katsuki is the only one who can keep up with him when they’re really going all out.

He never thinks, in a million years, that Ochako would be the one to get it instead.

When he doesn’t hear his name, the feeling that falls over him is impossible to describe. On one hand, he’s so incredibly proud – of course Ochako deserves something like this. The program is notoriously competitive, notoriously selective, and for Ochako to be chosen means that they see the potential for her to be an international hero.

On the other hand, he’s so angry and hurt and frustrated, because that should’ve been him. He should’ve been the one to get the work-study, because now he’s getting left behind not just by Deku, but by Ochako too.

He pointedly avoids meeting her gaze, and when she tries to approach him after class, the mess of his feelings makes him blow up.

“Bakugou-kun?” He stiffens at the sound of her voice, but otherwise ignores her as he stomps towards the locker rooms. “Bakugou-kun, wait – ”

A hand lands on his forearm, and without thinking, he whirls around and yanks himself out of Ochako’s grasp. She looks stunned at his violent reaction, but he’s still reeling from All Might’s announcement in a way that makes all his filters disappear.

“Don’t you fucking dare,” he hisses venomously, and hurt blooms across those wide brown eyes. “I don’t want your fucking pity!”

Katsuki regrets it the moment he says it, but pride is what makes him turn his back on Ochako and keep walking. He rips his hero costume off and showers in record time, tossing on his clothes and sprinting back to the dorms to lock himself in his room.

“Fuck, fuck, FUCK!” Throwing himself on his bed, he buries his face in his pillow and lets himself go. All the bottled emotions explode out, and he’s sobbing and swearing and screaming for God knows how long until he physically can’t do anything but lie there, curled up into his pillow and hurting.

He’s so exhausted and so out of it that he doesn’t notice the door to his balcony sliding open. Still, when he feels the mattress shifting beneath him, he knows that she’s there.

Shame and guilt suddenly join the complex mess of feelings in his head, and part of him is frozen in fear. Why is she here? Is she here to pity him, like he told her not to? Is she here to yell at him for being an asshole?

Worse yet – is she here to tell him that she wants to end things?

Every nerve in his body is on alert, his brain still a jumbled muddle, and he physically can’t bring himself to move as the seconds tick by, agonizingly slow. The sound of his heartbeat thunders in his ears, and he can feel his lungs constrict as he waits for Ochako to speak.

Something desperate in him begs, please don’t go.

A hand settles onto his shoulder. The touch makes him flinch, his shoulders hunching on instinct, but the mattress moves momentarily before a familiar body molds itself to his back.

Ochako maneuvers herself into a big spoon position, curling her legs behind his and wiggling her arms around him so that she can hug him around the waist. He swallows as he feels her gently press a kiss between his shoulders. It’s patient and understanding and everything he feels like he doesn’t deserve.

“… Sorry.” He swallows thickly, wincing at the rawness of his throat. The word is muffled, spoken into his pillow instead of towards the person behind him, but he feels Ochako bury her face into his shirt.

“Me too.” He closes his eyes at that, his bitterness returning in full force. She tightens her hold on him, as if sensing his mood. “You know you can talk to me, right?”

Katsuki huffs, an acknowledgement but not an answer. Instead, he lets one hand fall to rest on the arms folded across his stomach, finding her hand and sliding his palm against hers.

They lay like that in silence. A few tears escape, leftover from the emotional torrent he’d released earlier, but all he feels now is emptiness.

“I declined the work-study.” His eyes snap open, and he sits up abruptly. The action startles Ochako, who doesn’t manage to let go of him in time, and she lands half-sprawled below him, arms still linked around his body.

“What the hell, Ochako,” he croaks, his voice still hoarse, and he glares down at her. “Why would you – ”

“I can barely afford to feed myself, Katsuki – how in the world am I going to find the money to spend a year in America?” She looks at him gently, reaching up to cup his cheek. “Besides – I applied because the others did. I never really wanted to go in the first place. Not like you.”

Old insecurities crawl out of the dark corners of his mind. “I don’t need your pity, Cheeks,” he says darkly, and she rolls her eyes.

“For God’s sake, it’s not pity,” she says exasperatedly, and folds her arms across her chest. Her expression softens. “I know how much you wanted this. How much you still want it.”

“They picked you, Ochako. Not me.” Saying it out loud stings, but it doesn’t mean he isn’t proud of her. “Not that they shouldn’t have. You deserve it.”

“So do you, Katsuki.” She sits up, tucking her legs underneath her as she squares her shoulders, staring him directly in the eyes. “You know why I want to be a hero. Stuff like this – it’s not important to me, not like it is for you. You’re the first one on the waiting list – if I didn’t apply, it would’ve been you who got it.”

He scowls. “Why the fuck did you apply if you weren’t gonna do it?”

“Deku convinced me,” Ochako admits, looking apologetic. “I didn’t really expect anything; I knew I wasn’t going to be able to afford it regardless.”

And fuck, hearing her say that makes him feel even shittier. “… It’s whatever, Cheeks,” he says, trying to play things off. “Doesn’t really matter.”

“Yeah, that’s bullshit.” The flat look she gives him is pointed. “You don’t get angry like this unless it’s something you really care about.”

“I didn’t… ugh, fuck.” He closes his eyes and scrubs a free hand over his face, following the line of his jaw until his palm sits at the nape of his neck. “I got pissed because I felt like I was gettin’ left behind again. Not just by the shitty nerd, but...”

“… by me, too,” she says, realization falling over her, and he feels like an asshole for even thinking it, let alone admitting it out loud. “I thought we were both in the same boat? The one where we’re trying not to compare ourselves to other people anymore?”

“Shit, I know that, I just…” He groans, rubbing his neck roughly. “I just… I’ve spent so fuckin’ long chasin’ after them. Fucking years, Cheeks. I can’t just… turn that off.”

“I know.” And she does – maybe not to the same extent, but she does know, better than anyone else, exactly what he’s feeling. She felt it too, not long ago. “But you’re not Deku, Katsuki; you aren’t All Might either. Sometimes, I feel like you forget that.”

“S’not that I forget.” He lets his hands fall limp in his lap, looking down at them hollowly. “… They’re just… better. Better people, better heroes… trying to crawl out of their damn shadows feels like I’m fighting fuckin’ smoke.”

“Well, nothing worth doing is going to be easy,” she says, and part of him wants to laugh at the sheer fucking audacity of this girl, taking his words and throwing them right back at him. She grins a little, seeing the spark of amusement in his eyes. “You know that as well as I do.”

“You’re a goddamn comedian,” he snorts, and he can’t help but smile.

“The very best,” she agrees as she grabs his free hand, bringing it up to her lips. “So you’ll go, right?”

He studies her, trying to look for a single smidgeon of resentment, and can’t find anything other than genuine sincerity. “… yeah,” he sighs. “I’ll go.”

Ochako nods firmly. “Good.”

And that’s the end of it.

─── ･｡ﾟ❁ﾟ｡･ ───

December: Instead of “thank you” or “see you soon” or “drive safe.” Because no matter what you say it’ll mean the same thing.

They’re able to keep things quiet for seven months. Living with eighteen other teenagers means almost no privacy, and it’s a goddamn miracle that nobody has found out yet. Katsuki is pretty sure Frogface has an idea – he’s caught her watching the two of them recently, a contemplative look on her face, but otherwise, there isn’t a peep.

When it does come out, it’s partially Ochako's fault, but mostly Katsuki’s. Sparring together always gets him hot and bothered, and while she might have been tempting fate a little by wearing just a sports bra while they’re grappling, he’s entirely to blame for how he slams her into the mats and starts kissing her in the middle of the crowded gym.

Katsuki is not happy to find that there’s a class-wide bet going on about them. He’s even less happy to find that Deku is the one who fucking wins the pot, but when people find out that they’ve been dating since May, Ochako starts hiding on the roof to avoid any more invasive questions about Katsuki’s dick.

By the time winter break rolls around, the fervor around their relationship has died down. There’s still some teasing, especially from people like Kirishima and Mina, but everyone’s focus is redirected as the winter internships offers are finally handed out.

For some, the decision is easy. She knows that Katsuki doesn’t even hesitate when he gets the offer to intern with Endeavor again, alongside Shouto. Ochako, on the other hand, is torn. Her original plan was to go with Ryuko for the third year in a row, but she knows that she’s gotten a little too comfortable there. It’s not challenging anymore, and as much as she loves working with the dragon hero, she knows that she needs to gain more experience somewhere else.

She wants to take Miruko’s offer. The woman is on a case in Sapporo, and she’s looking for a seasoned intern experienced in both rescue and combat to act as her support. It’s an amazing opportunity, especially when Ochako considers the fact that the rabbit hero is notorious for preferring to work alone – apparently the Sports Festival didn’t harm her reputation as much as she’d thought it would.

There’s only one problem.

She and Katsuki had been planning to spend a few days celebrating her birthday before heading out to their respective internships. Miruko’s offer, if Ochako accepts it, lasts the entire two-week winter break.

Not only would she not be able to visit home, she’d also have to cancel her plans with Katsuki.

When she tells him about the offer, something in her breaks a little at the excited, proud grin that spreads across his face. “You’re shitting me. Miruko? For real? That’s fuckin’ amazing, Cheeks.”

“… Yeah.” Ochako smiles back weakly.

He frowns. “Oi, what’s with that face? You aren’t interested or something?”

“It’s not that.” At his puzzled look, she says softly, “The internship lasts the whole break. It’s in Sapporo.”

She already checked online. It takes five hours to get from Sapporo to Tokyo; a one-way ticket costs around thirty thousand yen. There is no way she can afford to visit Katsuki, let alone her parents all the way down in Mie. And even if he could come to her, there is no way to guarantee that she’ll have the time.

“… oh.” She watches as he exhales slowly, the excitement fading in his eyes and replaced by disappointment. “Oh.”

Ochako bites her lip, eyes flickering towards the floor. “I – I don’t have to take the offer, Ryuko still has openings…”

It’s not that she doesn’t want to go. She does – desperately, actually, because it’s Miruko. Number five hero, badass bitch Miruko, who Ochako secretly idolizes for being strong and powerful and uncompromising in a culture where being those things as a woman can be career-ending more than career-making. It’s an opportunity she never dared to dream of – and now it’s being handed to her on a silver platter.

Katsuki knows this. He knows that Ochako wants to say yes, and he knows that for all that she’s offering to stay, she wants him to tell her to go.

And he does.

“Don’t be a dumbass,” he scowls, eyes narrowing. “Miruko asked you for a reason; you’re fucking going.”

She knows that he won’t let her turn it down – Katsuki would never ask her to sacrifice her career for him – but hearing it still helps settle the guilt that had been festering since she first got the offer. He looks a little dejected still, and so Ochako steps forward until her face is pressed into his chest, arms coming up to wrap around his waist in a hug. “Katsuki, I –”

“I know.” Strong arms band across her back to tuck her more securely against his chest, and one hand cradles the back of her neck. “Just means we gotta make up for your birthday and New Years when you get back.”

“Deal.” She inhales, taking in the smell of smoke and sugar that never fails to make her feel safe and secure. It’s only two weeks, but she already knows that she’ll miss him terribly.

A hand sweeps across her back, settling on her neck. The warmth of his palm is soothing against the tight muscles, and she relaxes into him. “M’proud of you, Cheeks. You’re gonna fucking crush it.”

“I’ll be back before you know it.” It’s a lie, but Katsuki doesn’t call her out on it. Instead, he presses his mouth to the crown of her head.

“I love you,” he murmurs, quietly. Come back to me.

She pulls back, cradles his face between her palms, kisses him fervently in answer. I will.

─── ･｡ﾟ❁ﾟ｡･ ───

January: Straightforward. Soft and heavy, like morning before the coffee’s started brewing. Like that’s all there is to say.

He gets the call two days before they’re supposed to get back to the dorms.

“There was an avalanche in Sapporo,” Frogface’s monotone voice sounds tinny over the phone, and Katsuki’s heart drops to his toes. “Ochako – she’s in the hospital.”

The story is broadcast over every news channel, trending on every social media site. The case in Sapporo was an investigation, following rumors about a sex-trafficking ring targeting young girls. Miruko and Uravity had tracked the ring leaders to an abandoned town, where they’d captured the offending criminals with little trouble. The police were on the way, and the heroes had been comforting the scared girls, but nobody knew that one of the criminals had a remote-detonation quirk until it was too late.

The dynamite that exploded wasn’t meant to destroy the town – it was meant to bury it.

The twenty girls and all the criminals make it out alive and unscathed– so do all twelve thousand residents of the neighboring town. According to the reports, Uravity had created an entirely new gravitational field to slow the avalanche, with her own body as the anchorpoint, and had stalled long enough for everyone to evacuate the area. When she finally passed out, Miruko darted in to drag her intern to safety, but they had both ended up getting caught in the crush of snow.

The rescue team, who’d been on standby, found them both quickly, but Uravity’s overuse of her quirk, combined with her injuries, meant that she was rushed immediately to Musutafu, where Recovery Girl kept her alive long enough to get into surgery.

Katsuki skips class to go to the hospital, leg bouncing and his heart breaking as every agonizing minute passes. Mid-way through the day, Aizawa comes to try and bring him back to U.A., accompanied by Midnight. He almost fights both teachers in the middle of the waiting room, until his parents come and formally withdraw him for the day so he can stay.

When he’s finally allowed to see her, she’s in a coma. She looks small, tucked below scratchy white sheets and surrounded by machines he can’t name. There’s a neck brace supporting her head, the breathing tube snaking from her mouth and nose, and all he can do is hold her hand and squeeze, praying for her to wake up.

He comes every day after classes. He sits in the plastic chair by her bedside and talks about his internship, the things they did in class, and the stupid antics their classmates got up to in the dorms.

Every day, before he leaves, Katsuki kisses her and says that he misses her. That he can’t wait for her to wake up.

At one point, Miruko comes by to visit, solemn-faced – she’s in an electric wheelchair, missing her prosthetic limbs, and lugging an IV drip behind her. Part of Katsuki wants to blame her for it all, for giving the offer to Ochako in the first place, but he recognizes the guilt hidden behind the rabbit hero’s stoic façade.

“I told her not to overdo it.” The woman’s voice is low and throaty, weariness obvious even as she speaks. Katsuki spares a glance at the woman, who’s staring at Ochako’s still body in the bed. “Told her that the mountain was gonna come down one way or another. She didn’t fuckin’ listen – said she could keep going. That she had to.”

He’s seen the footage – it’s not something that he’ll ever forget. A towering wall of snow and ice and rock, a cresting wave over a ramshackle ruin, with a tiny pink form standing in front of the creeping, looming mass. He knows that Ochako’s quirk is more than just zero gravity, but seeing it in action, she looks like a goddess out of legend. Nobody who sees that video will ever call her weak again.

“Sounds like her,” he grunts, and neither of them say anything more.

Days later, he hears the rumor while waiting for shitty vending machine coffee and as he buys flowers at the flower shop on the hospital grounds. Apparently, Miruko called in a favor from one of the top healing quirk specialists to come and help Ochako.

He lugs an entire bushel of organic rainbow carrots to the woman’s hospital room as thanks, and scowls when Miruko points out that he should’ve sent them in an edible arrangement.

Three weeks after the accident, the neck brace and tubes are gone, the life support equipment removed, and all that’s left is to wait for Ochako to wake up. Katsuki is in the middle of complaining about some stupid training exercise he doesn’t really care about when the hand he’s holding squeezes.

“… Mm? Kat… ?” Ochako’s voice is low and gravelly, scratchy from disuse, and her heavy-lidded gaze settles on him tiredly. He stands abruptly, the chair clattering to the floor as the last remnants of fear and worry are replaced by sheer relief.

The hug he gives Ochako is careful and featherlight, but a strong hand pulls him tighter into her chest until he’s almost crushing her in his arms. Katsuki knows that he should be calling for a doctor, but he can’t help but take the moment to keep her for himself, just a little while longer.

“Shit, Cheeks,” he breathes, basking in the familiar weight of Ochako’s head tucked into the curve between his shoulder and neck. “I was so fuckin’ worried.”

“M’okay.” Her nose feels cold against his pulse. “Sorry,” she says, slurring a little.

“Don’t be.” She had saved those girls, and she was the reason that over ten thousand people were still alive. There was nothing to be sorry about. “You’re okay now, s’all that matters.”

She hums, the warmth of her breath lingering over his skin. “Love you,” she whispers, hands twisting in the fabric of his shirt.

Katsuki exhales in a soft, slow sigh, and presses a kiss into her hair. “Love you too.”

#kacchako #kacchako week 2020 #bakugou katsuki #uraraka ochako #bakuraka #by nebbia #it was always you #fanfiction

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