Kacchako Week, Day Seven: Unity

Uraraka woke up.

Which fell decidedly into the realm of Not Good. Because one, it meant she'd fallen asleep, which meant two, that Bakugou had also fallen asleep, since he definitely would've shaken her awake if he'd caught her dozing on the job.

That led to three, the heavy weight settled atop the lower half of her body.

Which, four, could only logically be one thing.

She opened her eyes slowly, taking stock of everything else but that. She was lying on her back on the couch, and her hair, still in its short ponytail, was making her head ache. It was dark in her apartment, hazy starlight filtering in through the open windows and the light from the tv casting shadows along the walls. Bakugou's laptop, still on the coffee table, had timed out and shut down, and judging by the stamp on the tv footage, she'd been out for a solid two hours.

The wide windows and electric fans coaxed in enough cool air to make goosebumps rise along her skin, her shorts and t-shirt doing little to warm her.

Her stomach, however, was bordering on hot.

Trying to move as little as possible, Uraraka rose up on her elbows just enough to confirm her suspicions—Bakugou was asleep on top of her, and not just napping on her shoulder. He was passed out and snoring, sprawled out on his stomach between her legs with his head resting on her belly and his arms hooked beneath her back like she was a human body pillow. Bakugou was much too long for the allocated space, so his shins and feet hung off the other end of the couch. Pythagoras, bless him, was curled up in the dip in Bakugou's back, looking for all the world like this was a normal occurrence.

Uraraka eased herself back down and stared blankly at the tv, trying to determine the best course of action.

She could go back to sleep and let Bakugou wake up first and leave and pretend she never saw anything.

She could use her Quirk on him and try to scoot out from beneath him without waking him up.

She could just wake him up.

This was bad.

Something caught her eye: a thin line of light, a bit like lightning, flashing across the tv screen and she blinked.

She blinked again when she saw their suspect, with dark hair and inconspicuous clothes, walking across the camera's field of vision. His hand, at his side, worked through a series of intricate motions, producing that strange light.

"Bakugou," she said, sitting up as much as she could under his considerable weight and shaking his shoulder, forgetting all the possible consequences. "Bakugou, wake up! You need to see this."

He shifted, and Uraraka tried to ignore the way her stomach flipped as the muscles beneath her fingers rippled.

"Mmf," he grumbled in his sleep, squeezing his arms tighter around her and burying his face further into her stomach.

At that, her heart rate went from nervous jog to frantic gallop, and their close proximity sunk in again. And Uraraka...well, she liked it.

This was very bad.

Because Bakugou was here to work on a case. Not for whatever this was.

"Bakugou," she said again, her voice cracking as she used both hands to shake him awake.

His eyes opened slowly, blinking away sleep like he'd really rather not. He came to actual consciousness at an agonizing pace, turning his face into her stomach, realizing that it was not, in fact, a pillow, then looking up the length of her as a full blush bloomed across his face in the most un-Bakugou expression she'd ever seen.

What she wouldn't give for a picture of that.

Shut up, Ochako, she told herself, feeling her own face grow hot as they held eye contact for entirely too long. Bakugou seemed frozen in place, unsure of what to do for the first time maybe ever.

Tell him about the villain, you dummy, her brain, in a twist of fate, seemed to be on her side and was screaming at her to do something, but now her body wouldn't cooperate. Her tongue was thick in her mouth and her hands were all but glued to Bakugou's shoulders and they just stared at each other like two dumbstruck fools.

Finally, finally, Bakugou coughed awkwardly and pushed himself off of her. Pythagoras, dislodged by the movement, skittered across the floor and into Uraraka's room, but Bakugou ignored him and said, "Sorry."

That word, of all things, shook Uraraka out of her stupor, because Bakugou didn't apologize offhandedly like that. She honestly knew of only one person he'd said "sorry" to, and it was Deku—an apology many years in the making.

Which meant he must think he'd seriously wronged her.

"It—It's okay," she choked out, sitting all the way up now that he wasn't pinning her down. Her face was still glowing, but she remembered then the reason for her sudden desire to wake him.

"The villain!"

"Huh?"

She reached down, grabbing his glasses from where they'd fallen to floor and shoving them back on his face.

"I saw him!" she fiddled with the remote, turning the video back several minutes, and they both watched in perfect silence, trying to make out exactly what he was doing with his hand.

Trying also, on Uraraka's part, to calm the gymnastics competition happening between her heart and her stomach.

She glanced at Bakugou from the corner of her eye. His face was washed out in the black and white light of the surveillance footage and there was still a hint of pink splashed across his cheekbones. His jaw, however, was set in something that looked a bit like anger.

"Erm...you okay?" she asked quietly. With Bakugou, a look like that could mean just about anything.

"Fucking fine," he growled, taking his glasses off again and rubbing his eyes roughly. "The hell is this guy doing?"

Uraraka frowned, turning back to the tv and restarting the segment. How much sleep had they gotten recently? A few hours a night maybe? It's not like Bakugou could blame himself for falling asleep. They were exhausted.

Except, it was Bakugou. And he probably thought that both of them were weak.

Tch.

Wait. What?

Uraraka groaned and rubbed her own eyes—Bakugou's irritability wearing off on her was not a good sign. She patted her cheeks and blinked a few times, Buck up, Ochako. You can do this!

"Okay, okay," she said, taking a few deep breaths and recentering her focus on the video. "So he's making some kind of light, and he looks like he's walking in a wide circle."

"Yeah, I've got eyes."

"Hush, I'm thinking out loud." She started twirling her fingers, mimicking their suspects motions. "It's like….sewing."

Bakugou sat up a little straighter as some realization hit him at her words. "Or weaving."

Then it hit her. "Like an invisible web."

"He starts in a central point and works his way out," said Bakugou, running his hands through his hair. The deflated locks went spiky again. "It's got to be some sort of trap."

Uraraka grabbed Bakugo's notebook and pencil, flipping to a blank page and drawing a hasty map of the area where this particular camera was located.

"Put it back to the beginning again," she said, and when Bakugou did so, she squinted, trying to make out the suspect's starting point and marking it on the map. "So he starts here, and then walks in a weird kind of spiral out from this point."

They watched, and it took about ten minutes before he finally stopped his circling and put his hand into his pocket.

"So it stops here."

"That's a big area."

Their shoulders pressed together as they stared at the paper in Uraraka's lap. Bakugou, oddly, didn't seem to notice or care, but Uraraka stood up as her face started to warm and went to the case of discs Ryukyu had given them. Flipping through, she found the footage from the day of the attack in their selected area.

She returned to the couch, sitting a healthy distance from Bakugou, and handed him the disc.

"Put this one on your laptop."

He did, scrolling through the time bar to the fight itself—Centipeder, who'd become the number thirteen hero, and Bubble Girl had been visiting a school, and were attacked as they left the building by League members Skulker and Masquerade.

"Godsdammit," Bakugou muttered after a few moments of watching the fight play out.

"What?"

"It's not a fight."

"Er…" Uraraka glanced from the screen, which was definitely displaying footage of a fight, back to Bakugou. "Is there something on your glasses? We are watching the same video, right?"

He shot her a look and gestured back to the screen as he restarted the scene. "Watch it this time, shit-wit."

It was so subtle that Uraraka was a little amazed that Bakugou had seen it so easily on the first playthrough, but then again, he was Bakugou. "It's like...a dance. They're forcing Centipeder and Bubble Girl to the middle of the web."

She looked at Bakugou then, a little impressed and a little in awe of him.

"So…" Uraraka continued. "Why doesn't anything happen when they actually get to the middle of the web? Skulker and Masquerade just...back off."

His neutral look deepened to a frown and he ran a hand through his hair again. "That's what we have to figure out. Something obviously happens, we just can't see it."

"We should try to talk to some of the heroes that got attacked, see it any of them have noticed anything strange. I bet Hado can get in touch with Suneater."

"And we need to go to the Quirk Registry," Bakugou said, standing as if he intended to leave right then. "Go through their records and see if we can find anything like this."

"Now?"

Bakugou glanced at his watch. "They open in an hour and a half. I'll go to that 24-hour convenience place across the street and grab a toothbrush. Get ready."

Without waiting for her to respond, he grabbed his wallet form his backpack and found his shoes in the closet.

"It doesn't take me an hour and a half to get ready," Uraraka grumbled as soon as the door clicked shut behind him. She settled back into the couch, closing her eyes…

"Oy!"

Her eyelids were sealed shut with the thickness of much-needed sleep, but Bakugou had a way about him that was more persistent, even, than bare necessities. Blinking, one eye opening before the other, Uraraka sat up and stretched. She threw Bakugou a glare through her bleary vision—he, standing in front of her, towering over her seated form, with his arms crossed over his chest and a look of poorly contained impatience on his face.

"We're leaving in ten minutes."

Uraraka groaned, but pushed herself up off the couch and stretched her arms above her head as an uninhibited yawn sighed out from her chest.

She tried not to drag her feet as she walked into the bathroom and flicked on the light, squinting at the sudden brightness. She grabbed her toothbrush from the cup and reached into the drawer where she kept her toothpaste.

Except, it wasn't her toothpaste.

Well, it was, but the end of the tube had been pressed flat and rolled meticulously up, squeezing all the toothpaste to the top.

She looked down at the counter then and noticed that Bakugou had left his toothbrush. It wasn't in the cup, but lying beside it, in a plastic bag to keep it clean.

But he'd left a toothbrush in her bathroom.

Like he'd left a coffee maker on her counter.

Uraraka's heart felt suddenly like it wanted to squeeze itself into nothing and expand to bursting all at once.

"Seven minutes!" Bakugou called through the door, and Uraraka shook herself.

No time for those thoughts, Ochako, she scolded herself, squeezing way too much toothpaste onto the brush and shoving it into her mouth.

She exited the bathroom three minutes later and stumbled into her room, pulling on the first leggings/shorts/t-shirt combo she could find as she yanked her fingers through her hair and tied it back into a neater ponytail.

"Done with time to spare!" she announced, marching to where Bakugou leaned against the kitchen counter with a travel mug in each hand.

He 'tched,' but handed her one of the mugs—coffee, naturally, and not the instant kind.

"Well, hop to it, Mr. Crack of Freaking Dawn," Uraraka teased, leading the way out of the apartment. "Maybe that should be your hero name, whatcha think?"

"I think you're too damn talkative."

Uraraka yawned. "You picked me for this, remember? Take it or leave it."

If she hadn't been so tired, she might not have said it, but Bakugou didn't seem to be thinking about leaving it as they boarded the train that would take them downtown to the Quirk Registry.

The train car was crowded with the pre-dawn rush, though nothing like it would be in an hour or so. Bakugou stayed close to the door, keeping distance between himself and the other passengers, and Uraraka stood beside him.

Then, like an afterthought that was more of a brain burp, Uraraka said, "You roll up your toothpaste tube."

"You don't." An accusation that sat ready on his tongue.

"And I have no regrets."

Bakugou gave her a look and took a gulp from his coffee. "For someone who would probably sell her own blood for money, that seems pretty wasteful."

"Nah-uh." Uraraka ignored the jab and stuck her tongue out at him. "I just cut the tube open when it's almost gone."

"Isn't that just a great fucking mess?"

"No."

He tilted his head toward her a bit, an almost imperceptible smirk flickering across his lips at her tone. Because he was right and he knew it and Uraraka wouldn't give him the satisfaction of admitting it. He opened his mouth to say something, but then closed it again, averting his eyes and some of that anger Uraraka had seen before pulled down at the corners of his mouth.

"What—"

"It's our stop," he said, turning and shouldering through the doors of the train as they slid open, leaving Uraraka to catch up.

She let out a sigh through her nose and followed, weaving between the other passengers boarding and departing. It shouldn't be surprising, she knew, the way he went from hot to cold like Todoroki with the flu, but it was still a bit...disappointing—it could be so free and easy between them one moment and then the next he got lost in his head and forgot all about her.

But, well, he was Bakugou, and maybe he still felt awkward and vulnerable from falling asleep on her like he had.

She caught up with him outside the Quirk Registry—a tall, grey building that stretched just as far beneath the surface as it did above. Dark windows told them they were early, unsurprisingly, as the sun was only just making a full appearance.

Bakugou crossed his arms and leaned against the wall beside the door, and Uraraka knew she shouldn't push it, but she also knew that Bakugou had come to her in the first place because she wasn't so easily deterred. She stood beside him, leaning like he was, shoving her empty mug into her bag and playing with her fingers—a nervous habit she'd developed along with her Quirk.

"What's with the extra Rage Aura?"

"It's not extra."

"Different, then," Uraraka amended, trying not to smile at the back-handed admittance of there being a Rage Aura in the first place. "It's like you're fine and then all of a sudden you remember that you've got something to be mad about."

He gave her a sideways look. "Forget it, it's nothing."

"Are you sure? Because if you're mad at yourself for falling asleep, you shouldn't be. I know you think that if you ignore your limits you can make them disappear, but that isn't being strong, it's being dumb."

He rounded on her then, and there was something smouldering in his eyes that wasn't anger—it was fear or guilt or something else utterly unrecognizable on Bakugou Katsuki. "I said drop it, Uraraka."

But she had learned long ago that backing down was the worse way to deal with him, so she stopped fidgeting with her fingers and curled her hands into fists at her sides.

Rising up onto her toes to get in his face, she said, "I will not drop it. You don't just get to bounce all over the place and expect me to sit back and take it. If you want to be moody and angsty and treat me like I couldn't understand it then I'll go home and go back to bed."

He stared at her for a moment, brow furrowed, and Uraraka felt regret well up in her throat.

"Sorry," she said, unclenching her her fists and putting her hands on her cheeks. "I'm sorry. I'm tired and frustrated, and you don't have to tell me anything you don't want to. I'm just being mean."

"I can take it."

"That's not the point! Just because you're a jerk doesn't mean that I should be a jerk to you." She paused, face heating up a bit and she covered it with her hands. "Wait, I mean...crap."

She peeked at him through her fingers and Bakugou, of all things, looked amused.

Of course he did.

"You're weird, Bakugou."

He bonked her on the head. "You're one to talk."

And there they were—back to easy.

Bakugou was quiet for a long moment, leaning back against the wall and not looking at her as he finally said, "It's not just the sleeping."

She didn't respond. Waiting for him to continue on his own was better than trying to rush him.

"It's…" He paused, like he wasn't sure how to voice something that he'd never put into words before. He sighed, frustrated, and ran a hand through his hair. "It's my Quirk. I… I activate in my sleep sometimes."

Oh.

"Not often—not anymore. But I sleep with suppressors on, just in case. I could've…."

The end of the sentence hung in the air between them and Bakugou still wasn't looking at her.

"What...what triggers it?" she asked softly.

"What do you think?"

Uraraka swallowed and studied his profile in a moment of silent solidarity. Because she knew. She'd been dragged through darkness just like he had, and when she'd gathered the courage, she said, "Me too."

Bakugou blinked and turned his head a bit, watching her.

"For me it's falling, mostly," she went on. Dreams that started after she'd lost Nighteye and had never really let up since. "I...I'm always just about to reach someone and then my Quirk just gives out and I fall until I wake up on the ceiling."

"At least you can't hurt anyone."

"No, but…" She trailed off as a realization hit her.

She hadn't had one of those nightmares since she'd started working on this case with Bakugou.

"But…?"

Uraraka gulped, her face heating up. "N-nothing!"

"Are you shitting me right now?"

Her cheeks were undoubtedly as red as his eyes and she looked away, chewing on her bottom lip and fidgeting with her fingers again.

"I just, um...I haven't had one of those dreams….er….recently."

Bakugou was quiet, shoving his hands in the pockets of the jeans he'd been wearing since the day before and looking away from her. It wasn't until the clerk arrived and unlocked the door to the Quirk Registry that he glanced at her again, eyes boring into hers for a single second, and said, "Me either."

Then he turned like he hadn't just dropped an emotional bomb on her and followed the sleepy-eyed clerk into the building.

"You're wasting daylight, Uraraka!" he called from inside, for she was still standing without, mouth slightly ajar in the wake of his statement.

Her stomach and her heart seemed to have switched places and she took a deep breath and patted her cheeks, willing away the blush.

"C-coming!"

The voice in her head that sounded like Hado giggled. You're in so deep, sister-friend.

—

After flashing their hero licenses to the clerk, Uraraka and Bakugou went downstairs, where a line of computers and several floors worth of filing cabinets contained the Quirks of every person in the city and surrounding area. They scanned their IDs and sat down, booting up two of the computers for what would hopefully be a quick search.

It was fairly mindless, searching variations on 'web trap,' and Uraraka couldn't keep her mind from wandering.

Like a highlight reel, she played back the past week and a half—the late nights and take-out and coffee; the small jokes, the accidental touches that he didn't flinch away from; the unwavering confidence that Bakugou showed in her; the fact that he'd chosen her for all this in the first place.

But...she couldn't be falling for him. Even if...even if her heart swelled when she looked at him, even if he made her feel like she was so completely worthy—of trust and friendship and everything else.

She couldn't be falling for him because, at the end of the day, he was more like Deku than he would ever admit. Everything that wasn't part of becoming the number one hero was secondary, unimportant.

And like with Deku, she would fall into that latter category with Bakugou too.

"Got him."

Uraraka was drawn from her thoughts and blinked at Bakugou, his face lit by the glow from the screen and his eyes bright as they scanned the page. She rolled her chair to his computer, stopping before her shoulder bumped into his, and read with him.

"Kodama Taro," said Bakugou. "Calls his Quirk 'Sticky Web,' but there's not description of what it does."

"But it doesn't stick people."

Bakugou printed the page, grabbing his backpack from where he'd thrown it to the floor and shoving the paper inside.

"We can work it out on the way to the office. We need to tell Ryukyu."

Once they were back out in the daylight, Uraraka's phone rang.

"Hello?"

"Ey, 'Chako—CHOO!"

"Hado?" Uraraka asked. The voice on the line was thick and scratchy.

"Ya. Turns ow 'm really 'lergic t' cats."

"Then why did you want to go to a cat cafe?"

"S'cute!"

Uraraka groaned, glancing at Bakugou, who'd pulled the page from his backpack and was studying it as he walked beside her. Ryukyu's building wasn't far enough to warrant getting back on the train, and Uraraka was glad for the fresh air.

"I've got to go to the office first, but I can bring you some medicine later—"

"Don' worry 'bout it. 'Amaki sen'—CHOO!— Mirio over."

"You sure?"

"Ya. Spen' th'day with your boyfrien'. You can finish tha' case you're workin' on."

"He's not my—"

"Wha-ver ya say, 'Chako." Uraraka could hear the teasing smile even through Hado's swollen sinuses.

"Whatever, yourself, hun. We are never going to a cat cafe again. For multiple reasons."

"But—"

"No buts. And do me a favor and ask Tamaki if he's noticed anything weird since that fight with Toga and Twice, would you? Have him call me if he thinks of anything."

"Somethin' t'do wit your case?"

"Yeah."

"'Kay. An' you migh' wanna check ou' the Medallion t'day."

"Why?"

"CHOO! Bye, 'un!"

Hado hung up and Uraraka groaned again, flipping her phone closed and stuffing it into her pocket.

"Hado's out sick today—" she started to say, but was cut off as Bakugou's phone started ringing.

"What now?" he grumbled, pulling it out and glaring at the screen. "Gods fucking damn it."

"What?"

He swiped to answer a video call to a screeching "WHAT IN THE NINE HELLS, KATSUKI YOU TOTAL DOLT?"

Uraraka jumped, but Bakugou, unphased, shoved the paper into Uraraka's hand and gripped the phone in both of his, bringing it closer to his face to shout, "WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU ON ABOUT, YOU OLD HAG?"

She'd seen Bakugou's parents a few times before—they'd come to U.A. for various events, and this was admittedly tame compared to some of the conversations she'd seen them have. From behind Bakugou's mother, there was a faint "Um, dear?"

"NOT NOW, DEAR! YOUR IDIOT SON HAS A GIRLFRIEND AND I HAD TO FIND OUT ABOUT IT IN THE GODSDAMNED MUSUTAFU MEDALLION'S GOSSIP COLUMN."

She might as well have set off one of Bakugou's explosions inside Uraraka's head. Heroes Weekly was one thing. The Medallion was the biggest paper in the city.

But Bakugou didn't miss a beat. "ARE YOU STUPID? YOU REALLY THINK IF I WAS DATING URARAKA FUCKING OCHAKO I'D BE TRYING TO HIDE IT?"

There was silence then, Bakugou and his mother staring at each other as everyone involved realized what he'd just said. Bakugou's ears turned pink and Uraraka's brain was steadily melting into incoherent mush.

Bzzt.

Her phone buzzed in her pocket, and she reached for it slowly, like she'd been hit with a time-bending Quirk.

Bzzt. Bzzt….Bzzt. Bzzt. Bzzt.

"Well when you get up the nerve, bring her to dinner, you damned coward," Bakugou's mother said, and there was that inexplicable softness in her voice that Uraraka had heard sometimes in her son.

"Piss off, bitch queen."

He hung up then, ears growing redder still, and Uraraka was glad for the group message that was going off repeatedly so she had something else to look at.

Group: bABes [9 Unread]
[06:23] Mina: OH MY GOD OCHAKO
[06:23] Mina: :image: bakuraka1
[06:23] Mina: :image: bakuraka2
[06:24] Kyoka: okay those are freaking adorable. what the HELL did you do to him ochako?
[06:24] Itsuka: CUTE! :love:
[06:24] Momo: I didn't believe it when I saw it in Heroes Weekly, but if it's in the Medallion, does that mean it's true, Ochako?
[06:24] Ibara: You both look so happy!
[06:24] Tsuyu: You do look quite happy. Also, I believe everyone owes me money.
[06:24] Mina: CRAP. I was hoping you wouldn't remember that! T_T

Bakugou seemed to be reading a thread of his own and trying to ignore her altogether, so with shaking fingers, Uraraka opened the first image—a screenshot from the Musutafu Medallion's website. It was a photo of the two of them on the train that morning, and someone had managed to catch a perfect moment. She was looking at him with a defiant half-smile on her face, eyes bright as she stared up into his. He was leaning down toward her, one arm gripping the handle above his head, and the t-shirt he wore, with the sleeves ripped off, showed the entire bulk of his arm (something Uraraka had been trying not to notice since the day before).

The real catch of it, though, was Bakugou's face.

It was soft, with a crooked grin that curved up the side of his mouth and eyes that were softer still. He was looking at her like she was the only thing in the world. Like nothing was more important to him than whatever it was she was saying.

A stupid conversation about toothpaste and he was looking at her like she'd told him she could offer him anything he wanted in this life.

It must have been so fleeting, or she must have been so caught up in her own thoughts, that she hadn't noticed. But seeing it there took her breath away.

Pictures can't accurately capture real life, Ochako, she reminded herself, thinking back to the 'Bakugou Smoulder' article in Heroes Weekly. They just managed to catch you at the exact right second. He doesn't really look at you like that.

But still, she went back to the message and opened the second image.

It made her heart do several somersaults, because he had the exact same expression on his face, and she wasn't even looking at him. They were standing outside the the Quirk Registry and she was looking down at her hands—For me it's falling, mostly—and he was watching her like she was saying the most important thing he'd ever heard.

And maybe, then, it was.

She swallowed, the pictures burning themselves into her brain.

Her mouth, the traitor, spoke the first coherent words that came to mind. "Bakugou, you're a giant."

It wasn't what either of them were expecting, and Bakugou actually tore his eyes away from his phone to look at her.

"What?"

Uraraka wished she had Mirio's Quirk, so she could phase through the ground and disappear entirely. Her face was surely so red that Bakugou, if he had any sense, would take her to the hospital.

She opened and closed her mouth. Blinked. "Um...I just mean...in the pictures…" She sort of gestured to her phone, because she was fairly certain Mina had probably sent them to Bakugou too. "It doesn't seem like you're...that much, you know, bigger than me. In real life."

He gave her a weird look—definitely not the one from the pictures. "You're fucking tiny."

"But you don't ever…." Look down on me.

"What?"

"You don't…" She was blushing furiously. So much so that it seemed to be seeping into Bakugou's cheeks too. "You don't make me feel small."

"Good," he said simply, but then, as if he needed to explain himself, he added, "Besides, you've got an attitude bigger than I am."

It came out rough, like he was trying to make it into an insult. A way out of this awkwardness.

"Rude," she said, taking the escape and elbowing him in the ribs.

And, well, Bakugou started laughing.

Like actually laughing.

That rare laugh that surprised even him, and he tried so desperately to stop that it only made him laugh harder, eyes squeezing shut and tears leaking from the corners.

And it might've been exhaustion. Or embarrassment. Or stress. Or a combination of the three or something else entirely. But whatever it was, Uraraka couldn't help laughing with him.

"You should've…." he gasped out, hand covering his mouth as he continued to try and stop himself. "Seen your face. You looked like Ashido you were so red."

"Me?" Uraraka shot back, trying to catch her breath and wiping tears of her own from her eyes. "I thought your whole head was going to explode!"

And they just stood there, hands on their knees and near collapsing on the sidewalk, cackling like idiots as other pedestrians gave them wide berth.

"Oh gods," Uraraka said at last. Her stomach was sore and her eyes were rubbed raw but she felt good.

"Oh gods," Bakugou repeated, pinching the bridge of his nose and smiling. He untangled his hand from the back of her shirt, which he must've gripped at some point when the thought hit him that she tended to activate her Quirk when she laughed hard enough. "What a fucking mess."

And the tension between them evaporated. Neither would say anything to the other about the embarrassing things they'd done, and it was a different kind of solidarity that made Uraraka's heart beat a little too fast.

She shoved her still-buzzing phone back into her pocket and, grinning, unfolded the villain profile she'd accidentally crumpled into a wad in her hand. "So, anyway, Sticky Web…"

Bakugou put his hands in his pockets as he straightened, walking a half-step behind her so he could read over her shoulder. "So we know he doesn't physically stick people in place."

"You think maybe the web sticks to people?"

He frowned thoughtfully, and Uraraka looked pointedly away from his mouth, which was pulled into a highly attractive pout much too close to her face. "But to what end?"

"I don't know. Tracking? But what's that got to do with the attacks?"

"Unless it's all a ruse to cover up a bigger plot."

"You think…" Uraraka started, memories and nightmares floating back into the forefront of her mind. "You think Shigaraki is finally coming out of hiding?" She brought the thumb of her left hand to rub across the pads of the fingers on her right, where Shigaraki had once watched as Toga sliced through each of them, sucking the blood with a kiss like a lover. White scars ran across all of them, pinching the skin and serving as a constant reminder of a series of days she'd rather forget—days she spent locked underground with Momo as the League tried to study and dissect their Quirks. Tried to find ways to take them away without their precious serum.

It hadn't worked, thankfully, but the memories were a scar all their own.

Bakugou noticed the movement of her hands and gritted his teeth, his jaw visibly clenching when she raised her eyes to his face. He'd been on that rescue mission, and she wondered if he saw her scars as his own failing. If he thought it was his fault for not finding them soon enough.

He had plenty of scars she blamed herself for, too. Bakugou would see getting saved by everyone as a disgrace.

And that was the first sort of solidarity, one that wasn't going to break or undo itself in the face of something as stupid as magazine gossip.

Bakugou reached for her hand, and then seemed to decide better of it and pulled his hand back to his side.

"We'll stop him. As soon as he shows that fucking disgusting face. We'll be there."

They arrived outside Ryukyu's building then, and Uraraka shook herself, blinking away all the exhaustion and the awkwardness and the fear and everything.

And it wasn't so hard, with Bakugou beside her, to hold her head high and march into the building like she owned the place, ready to do what heroes needed to do.

—

"Good work, you two," Ryukyu said.

The three of them stood in the dragon hero's office atop the building, the information Bakugou and Uraraka had gathered spread out on Ryukyu's desk.

"I honestly didn't expect much to come of this lead when you first brought it to me," she continued, speaking to Bakugou. "I'll have to give you more leeway next time."

Bakugou nodded. "What are we going to do about him? There's an address listed on his Quirk profile. We could go check it out."

Ryukyu smiled at them. "The both of you are going to go log some training time in the gym and the go home. You look half-dead."

"We're fine," Uraraka and Bakugou said in unison.

"I think I'll be the judge of that," Ryukyu said, turning to the desk and sort through the images again. "Take Polygraph to the gym with you. Gods know he could use it."

Uraraka and Bakugou exchanged a look and turned to the door.

"Bakugou, stay a minute."

Ryukyu probably wanted to congratulate him further on a job well done, and Uraraka smiled as she met his eye again. That Bakugou tenacity always paid off.

"I'll get Poly and meet you down there," she said, grinning. "Maybe I'll kick his butt a few times in the sparring ring."

Bakugou smiled back, just a brief upturn at the corner of his mouth, and Uraraka turned away before her heart actually broke one of her ribs with its pounding.

With the office door shut firmly between them, Uraraka let out a breath that she was kind of always holding around Bakugou these days. Waiting for the case to finish and for him to stomp back off into the number one grind.

The case, she supposed, was mostly over now.

Uraraka usually wasn't selected for missions that didn't involve rescue of some variety. The sheer number of specialized sidekicks under Ryukyu allowed the dragon hero to tailor each team to the mission at hand. Bakugou, though, was good for pretty much everything. He had one of the best mission success rates in the agency, and if it weren't for his attitude issues, he probably would've already moved up to an even higher-ranking hero agency.

Her heart clenched as it sunk in—this was the end of her involvement with the case. The surveillance team would take over from here, and a field team would be put together for when the time came to actually go after Sticky Web.

She'd served her purpose.

And it wasn't that she didn't want to do missions other than rescue—she'd love to get out there and kick villain butt, but as long as she was a sidekick for a big agency, she had to accept the fact that there would always be someone better suited to the task.

She reached the lobby as Polygraph was arriving for the day, and she shook herself. It was for the best that it all ended now before it got seriously out of hand. Before her heart got in too deep.

"Ryukyu wants us to train," she said, falling into step with Polygraph and linking her arm through his, steering him toward the elevators that would take them down to the gym. "Bakugou'll be joining us soon."

Polygraph didn't fight it, and once they were in the elevator, he pulled his arm from hers and gave her an odd look.

"You really dating him?"

She appreciated that he'd broken contact, giving her space to tell her own truth.

"No," she said, thankful also that he was actually asking without assuming the answer. "We've just been working on this case and people are making two and two equal five."

Polygraph nodded, dark bangs falling in his eyes. "I thought that might be the case. I mean, can you imagine dating Bakugou?"

"It wouldn't be bad," she said, a little defensive. "Wait—I mean….well, I guess that is what I mean. He's….a lot. But he, you know, makes you want to be a lot too. He makes you want to be better than he thinks you are."

Polygraph snorted. "Yeah, maybe once you get around all the…"

"Baku Rage Aura?"

"Oh gods, never say that to his face."

"Too late."

The door slid open then, but Polygraph didn't move immediately. Instead, he stood, giving her a curious, searching look. "Maybe…." he said after a long moment, finally following her out into the large gym. "Maybe the two of you together isn't as crazy as I originally thought."

Uraraka's face heated as they made their way toward the locker rooms and she bit her lip. "Not like it matters."

Polygraph looked like he wanted to say something and then decided against it. Shaking his head bit, he settled on, "Get changed. Let see if you're as good as Bakugou thinks you are."

She smiled in spite of herself. "Brace yourself, Poly. I'm better."

—

"Two outta three," Polygraph mumbled, face full of sparring mat as Uraraka pinned him down, arms behind his back.

"As much as I enjoy watching you get your ass kicked, it's my turn with Uraraka."

Uraraka's heart twinged and she whipped her head around. Bakugou, changed and ready to go, was leaning against the wall behind them, arms cross over his chest like he'd been there a while. He was still wearing that stupid sleeveless t-shirt, but he'd traded his jeans for track pants and wrapped tape around his hands.

Rolling his neck and cracking his knuckles, he approached the center of the mat, where Uraraka eased herself off Polygraph and reached out a hand to help him to his feet.

Standing again, brushing his sweaty bangs from his face and wiping blood from his split lip, he looked at Bakugou with a small, knowing grin. He jerked a thumb at Uraraka and said, "You weren't kidding about her."

Bakugou tilted his head to the side, giving his partner a wicked grin. "Of course I fucking wasn't."

And without preface, Bakugou launched himself at Uraraka.

Fortunately for her, she was well-versed in his opening move, and spun out of the way of his powerful right hook without a second to spare. Behind him, she crouched, balancing on her hands and swinging her legs around in a kick aimed at his legs, but he jumped, flipping in the air and soaring over her.

Upside down above her head, he grabbed her by the shoulder, and used his momentum to bring her with him and fling her over his head as he landed. Uraraka went flying across the mat, but rolled as she crashed to the ground, coming up on her feet and spinning just in time to see him running at her. She ducked under his punch and used his own weight against him, barrelling into his stomach and flipping him over her back.

He wouldn't go down that easy, and turned her flip into a handspring to push himself back up onto his feet.

The movement wasted time on his part, and Uraraka was there when he righted himself, her fist cracking into his jaw and forcing him to take a step back.

Still grinning, he met her eyes, dragging the back of his hand across his mouth.

"I've been thinking," he said mildly, like they were having a conversation over lunch instead in the middle of a brawl. He came at her again, grabbing her by the arm and swinging her around in a circle. "I think you're right about Sticky Web sticking to people. I think it could be some kind of trace."

He made to let go and throw her across the ring again, but she gripped his forearm tightly, and instead of her flying across the mat, they both went crashing to the floor.

Rolling out from under him, Uraraka pushed herself to her feet and backed away a few steps. "A way to keep tabs on the pro heroes before a bigger attack?"

"Yeah, make sure they're out of the way," he said and ran at her again, jumping and aiming a roundhouse kick at her head.

Uraraka leaned back, his foot missing by centimeters, and planted her own feet as she grabbed his ankle and used his momentum to spin him around and fling him across the mat. She allowed herself as satisfied smirk as he skidded against the ground and she said, "Maybe the webs work like individual signal lines. You think he can see where people are? Or more than that?"

A thought hit her then—if their villain could see more than just location, if he could hear thoughts or words or anything else, she might've tipped him off by having Hado talk to Suneater.

Bakugou's knuckles slamming into the side of her face knocked that idea right out of her head.

She staggered backward and his iron arm was around her waist, slamming her into the mat and pinning her there.

"Not a good time to go all space cadet, Uraraka," he grumbled, his face too close to hers for comfort.

But she gripped his arm and activated her Quirk on him, pushing him off her and into the air as she scrambled to where she'd left her bag on the ground by the wall.

"Oy! What the fuck?"

"Give me a sec!" She rubbed her sore cheek with one hand and dug through the bag until she found her phone, but as she flipped it open to call Hado and tell her not to say anything to Suneater, she saw she had a missed call and a voicemail. "Crap."

Bakugou popped off a small explosion and blasted himself a bit too hard into the wall above her. "Something wrong?" he grunted, bouncing away from the wall and spinning slowly in the air as he rubbed his shoulder and glared at her.

"If it works like a signal thread," Uraraka said, scrolling through her notifications and opening the message from Suneater. "Then we don't want to give him any indication that we're onto him. What if he can see or hear things through the people caught in his web?"

"Hey Ur-uravity. Nejire told me you were looking into a case involving my fight with Toga and T-twice? Um...well, I haven't really noticed anything, you know, strange. Some...tingling in my feet? B-but that's it. I-I'm sorry I c-can't be more helpful."

Uraraka plopped down on the ground, pinching the bridge of her nose. "Whoops."

"If he can see or hear, it's probably only one person at a time," Bakugou said, still floating above her. "There's no way he could distinguish between fourteen different heroes at the same time. So unless he can set some sort of trigger to alert him if someone starts to talk about a specific thing, chances are we're still in the clear. We just need everyone that's been marked to not say anything else."

"Uravity please report to my office at your convenience. Uravity to my office." Ryukyu's voice on the overhead speakers shook Uraraka from her thoughts and she immediately stood, grabbing her bag.

"I'll tell her not to say anything to the other heroes yet," Uraraka said. "Just in case we're right. And I'll text Hado and Suneater too."

Bakugou, fully upside down in the air beside her, nodded. "Now put me down so I can have a go at Poly."

Uraraka reached out, touching his arm and spinning him right-side up before releasing him. They stared at each other for a moment, Uraraka's heart doing all sorts of painful palpitations at the thought that, once they left the office that day, they'd be back to going their separate ways.

"Uh...see you around?" she said awkwardly.

Bakugou, however, looked a little amused. "Something like that."

Before she could ask what that meant, he was grabbing Polygraph and dragging him onto the mat, and Uraraka took it as her cue to leave.

—

After Uraraka blurted out their theory to Ryukyu, the hero, calm as always, just nodded. She leaned against the front of her desk, Uraraka standing across from her.

"It's possible you're right if Suneater has been experiencing tingling in his feet," Ryukyu said. "I won't say anything to the other marked heroes yet, to be safe."

Uraraka fidgeted with her fingers. "So, um, what did you want to talk to me about?"

"You're on the field team for the Sticky Web mission."

"W-what?"

"I've already sent out a surveillance team, and if they can confirm the suspect's location, we'll move in the morning. A warrant is being written as we speak."

Uraraka swallowed, not really believing her ears. "Me? Do you think we'll need a search and rescue group?"

"No. You'll be part of the offence team. Bakugou insisted." Ryukyu was fighting a smile and Uraraka's brain was quickly turning to jelly.

"What?"

"I told him it was his case and he could assign teams. He said the only thing that mattered was you."

Uraraka went to one of the chairs across from Ryukyu's desk and sat down, hands on her cheeks as her face heated and her heart thumped and her mind swam.

Ryukyu took the seat beside her, smiling outright and putting a hand on Uraraka's knee. "That boy has placed a lot of faith in you, Uraraka. It's not misguided. And I know all the gossip floating around is just talk, but don't doubt for one second that he trusts you with every bit of that ridiculous heart of his."

—

Still in a sort of daze, Uraraka made her way back to the lobby, ready to go home for a much needed shower and even more needed sleep. She glanced into the main office space, where Bakugou was changed and sitting at his desk, going through what were probably copies of the information they'd given Ryukyu.

Against her better judgment, Uraraka headed toward him, hoisting herself up to sit on his desk and look down at him.

"See you tomorrow, then?" he asked, smirking and continuing to look at the profile in his hands.

She smiled, too, and spoke the words that pressed so hard against her heart they hurt. "Thank you."

He glanced up at her, smirk softening just slightly. "Go get some sleep."

"Not without you." Stupid, incompetent, traitorous mouth. "No! I mean, you need rest too!" She put her hands on her hot cheeks and shook her head back and forth.

Bakugou snorted a quiet laugh. "You're a mess, Uraraka."

"Hush, you," she shot back, bringing her hands from her face to fold her arms across her chest. She stuck her tongue out at him. "You should go home. Let the surveillance team take care of the rest. I know you want to do everything yourself, but you'll be more use to everyone if you actually sleep."

She was right and he knew it and he wouldn't give her the satisfaction of admitting it, and Uraraka wondered, fleetingly, if she was looking at him the way he'd looked at her when they'd argued about the toothpaste.

"Give me an hour," he said.

"Forty-five minutes."

"An hour. Or do you wanna go again, Uravity?"

"I'd kick your sorry butt this time," she told him, courage rising up inside her even as she thought her heart was going to cut and run at the spark in his eyes. "But promise? No more than an hour?"

She extended a pinky to him, and he gave her a skeptical look.

"Are you in kindergarten or what?"

But she didn't flinch or back down, and after what seemed like an eternity, Bakugou wrapped his own pinky around hers, squeezing it a bit too tight.

"Fine. I fucking promise. Weirdo."

"Good. I'll see you tomorrow then."

And, heart full to bursting, Uraraka hopped off his desk and made her way home, showering and then falling into bed, asleep before she even hit the mattress.

—

Battle raged around her, but Uraraka was rooted to the spot.

They'd arrived at Sticky Web's address to find him alone, but seconds later, League member after League member teleported to the scene, resulting in a messy fight with no clear objective other than to get Sticky Web and get out.

But Shigaraki Tomura stood in front of her, the house crumbling around them.

"It's been a while, Uravity," he said, his face obscured by that decrepit hand. "How's the Quirk?"

She swallowed, willing her body to move but behind her eyes all she saw was Toga sliding a jagged blade across the pads on her fingers while Shigaraki sat, eyes bright as he licked his lips and watched.

"Her Quirk's fine, asshole, and you're about to regret ever messing with her."

Bakugou slid into the fight, bleeding in several places and practically vibrating with adrenaline. His hand on her shoulder shook her out of her shock and she met his eye just briefly.

That boy has placed a lot of faith in you, Uraraka.

"Let's kick some ass," he said, a challenge and a promise.

And with him beside her, it was easy.

She flew at Shigaraki, Bakugou on her heels, and slammed a punch into his stomach before he ever saw it coming. She jumped out of the way as Bakugou's right hook exploded into the side of Shigaraki's head, and the villain staggered as the disembodied hand was wrenched away. He reached out to latch onto Bakugou, but Uraraka was there, tackling Shigaraki to the ground before his destructive touch could find purchase. He reached for her arm, but she leapt into the air, activating her Quirk and floating above him for a moment.

Bakugou ran toward Shigaraki then, his finger on the pin of his grenadier, and shouted up to her, "Now, Uravity!"

And maybe it was the result of fighting beside and against Bakugou for years, but she understood.

She released her Quirk, falling at Shigaraki from behind while Bakugou kept his attention at the front. She made a few quick jabs at the villain's exposed neck, disabling him briefly, and then used his shoulders to push herself back into the air as Bakugou pulled the pin.

She landed behind Bakugou, slamming her back into his like a brace to help him take the recoil from the grenadier. They jumped back then, falling into defensive stances and waiting for the smoke to clear as what was left of the wall crumbled in the face of Bakugou's explosion.

But when it did clear, Shigaraki was gone.

"Godsdammit," Bakugou hissed, shaking out his arm.

"All units stand down," Ryukyu's voice came over their coms. "Sticky Web is in custody and the rest of the League has disappeared. I repeat: All units stand down."

They made their way out to the main road, where the rest of the force was gathering. Prism, a sidekick who could create anti-Quirk zones, was containing their suspect, so at least they had that going for them.

"Good work, team," Ryukyu said as she approached Uraraka and Bakugou, placing a hand on each of their shoulders. "We accomplished our objective, making this mission a success! Once Poly interrogates Sticky Web, we might even have more info on the League as a whole."

"Shigaraki was here," Uraraka said, looking down at her hands and fidgeting with her fingers. "We let him get away."

"You both did excellently," Ryukyu assured her. "If it hadn't been for your persistence, Sticky Web would've slipped under all of our noses until it was too late. You're both to be promoted to level three sidekicks. Now smile, you two. We've got interviews before we go back to the office."

Uraraka swallowed hard, wiping sweat from her forehead with the back of her hand. Bakugou stood beside her, so close her elbow brushed his chest as she moved.

"Don't let that coward scare you," he said under his breath as the news anchors and cameramen began making their way onto to the scene. "If you let him get in your head, he wins."

"But—"

"No buts," Bakugou said, his hand gripping hers as he ran his thumb across the scarred pads of her fingers. "That's twice now you've bested him. We keep fighting until we beat him for good."

And he was right.

That's what heroes do.

He'd been through just as much hell with the League as she had—more, even—and if he could still say that, then she could believe it too.

Cameras were fighting their way across the rubble toward them and Bakugou let go of her hand. Uraraka's heart stuttered and she bit back the disappointment. This had been the goal. They'd accomplished the goal. She should be happy about a job well done and not sad about what it might mean for this tentative friendship with the hero standing beside her.

Psyching herself up for the inevitable 'We're NOT dating' interview, Uraraka was thoroughly surprised when Bakugou slung an arm around her shoulders and started guiding her toward the news crews.

And...it wasn't a possessive arm. It wasn't a grip that curled her into his side. It pushed her outward, in front. Like he was forcing her into the spotlight that was aimed at him.

Then, his mouth was at her ear, lips just grazing her skin as he breathed, "You know…being 'tsundere' isn't so bad….when it's with you."

Uraraka's heart stopped beating altogether.

She tripped over her feet, but his arm, still hooked around her shoulders, tightened to steady her.

"I only meant…." he said, his ears turning pink as she gathered to courage to look at him. "But if you don't want—"

When she met his eyes they were open and vulnerable again, but she could see the walls coming back down as she failed to respond properly.

"It's not that," she said quickly, breathlessly. "It's just...that's the single most tsundere thing you've ever said, Bakugou Katsuki."

Stupid brain. Stupid mouth.

But Bakugou smiled, amused again with her absurdity.

"Just Katsuki. If you want."

The smile that spread across her face was so wide it hurt. "I take it back. That's the most tsundere thing you've ever said….Katsuki."

His name had barely left her tongue before his lips crashed into hers.

And his kiss was as blazing and wild as an inferno.

—

Hours later, after interviews and debriefings and showers, Uraraka and Bakugou stood outside the Ryukyu building, alone for the first time since early morning the day before, when they'd woken up tangled together on her couch.

"Can I...um…" Uraraka started as they meandered toward the train station. "Can I say something really awkward?"

Bakugou gave her a sideways look, walking closer to her than he had before, but not touching her, and Uraraka worried that he might be having second thoughts. Post-fight exhilaration could make people do crazy things.

"It wouldn't be the first time."

Uraraka stuck her tongue out at him, but then looked down, fidgeting with her fingers. "It's just that….ugh, I don't know how to word this except for bluntly, so here it goes: If we do, you know, become a thing, won't I always be secondary? Won't your hero work always be more important than anything else?"

She wasn't meeting his eye, and she was surprised when one of his calloused hands slid between hers, his fingers entwining themselves with her scarred ones and stopping her fidgeting.

"You're dumb."

But it didn't feel dumb to her. It was what Deku had said to her once upon a time.

"You…." Bakugou continued, in that way he had of trying to voice something that he didn't know how to put into words. It came out stilted and broken. "You're part of it. You're….good for me. And it's stupid, but you make me a better hero. You make me….want….to not just be great, but to be, you know, good, too. You make me better. And….I like to think that I make you better too, but I wonder if I'd just be bad for you…."

Uraraka was quiet for a long time, trying to come up with the words to tell him how he made her feel so much bigger and stronger and fiercer. How just being around him made her want to push herself so far beyond her limits that she became the best hero she could ever hope to be.

How his confidence in her stopped her nightmares. How him choosing her to help him with this case meant more than she could ever accurately explain.

They reached the train station, but didn't head to a boarding platform, as that would mean separating. Instead, they stood, away from the crowd against a wall, and Uraraka finally found a connection between her brain and her heart and her mouth.

"You are...so much of the reason that I'm standing here, Katsuki," she said quietly, her fingers still laced between his as she stood in front of him. His eyes were hard and soft at the same time, like he was trying to build up his walls just in case but they were cracking as he looked at her. "Ever since our first year at U.A….you always treated me like an equal. When you went all out against me at the Sports Festival first year….it inspired me. It made me think that maybe I could be as good as you thought I was. I went to Gunhead because of you, which saved Tsuyu and me both from Toga when the League attacked our camp. And then when we faced each other in the finals second year….you have no idea how much I needed that, how much you continuing to throw everything you had at me made me feel so strong. And….and then you came to me with this case. Me, above anyone else. And...I'm strong, and I know that. But seeing me through your eyes makes it all seem so much more important. You make me feel...worthy of trust and partnership and heroism. So….please, please don't think for one second that you're bad for me."

And it wasn't so hard to be vulnerable in front of him, not when he made her so strong.

The walls in his eyes crumbled just as surely as if he'd blasted them with a grenadier, and he pulled her to him, wrapping her in his arms and burying his face in her shoulder without a thought for the throngs of people around them. And maybe he was thinking the same thing—maybe she made him feel strong enough to be vulnerable too.

"Come home with me," he said into her neck, his breath warm against her skin in a command that contained all his unasked questions.

She smiled against his shoulder, fingers lacing into the back of his shirt. "What about the construction? 'Fucking annoying,' you said, if I'm not mistaken."

"Don't give a fuck," he said, arms tightening just slightly around her. "You matter more."

And, even if she wanted to, she couldn't deny him after that.

—

Curse herself and Bakugou both for being weird and awkward dweebs.

They'd reached his apartment, near dead on their feet from sheer exhaustion, and they just stood there in his kitchen (much nicer, Uraraka noted, than her own) staring at each other like middle schoolers on a first date.

That is, until Uraraka noticed his coffee maker.

"You liar," she said, though there wasn't as much bite to it as she would've liked. "You said your mom bought you two different brands, so why is that the exact same one you brought to my apartment?"

"Because I didn't want to drink shitty ass instant coffee and you shouldn't either," he said, ears going red. "Besides, if you get to be all 'you're just going to slow me down unless you take care of yourself' to me, then I get to take care of you when you don't want it, too."

Uraraka swallowed. She'd thought that saying it would break the spell, that something would be lost if they admitted to helping each other, but this didn't feel like a loss at all.

It felt...well...like trust. Bigger, even, than before.

"C'mon, you damn weirdo," he grumbled, resting his arm around her shoulders and steering her toward the bedroom. "I'm fucking exhausted."

They entered the room, where a large bed dominated most of the space and a private bath sat open to the side, and Uraraka again felt awkward. Because she wasn't really ready for everything this might entail.

But Bakugou went to the dresser, rummaging through it and pulling out a t-shirt and a pair of sweatpants and holding them out to her.

"You can change in the bathroom," he said. Then, ears glowing again, he continued, "We don't, you know, need to move so fast. I don't expect...I mean….sleeping is good. Just sleeping. I just want….you. This. Us."

She took the clothes from him, standing on her toes to give him a quiet kiss on the lips. "You and this and us is good," she assured him, thankful, again, for the way her brain and her mouth were finally in sync.

She went to the bathroom and pulled on the clothes he'd given her—another skull t-shirt, soft with age and wear, and sweatpants so long she had to roll them at the bottom and the top to avoid them dragging along the ground.

"There's an extra toothbrush in the drawer by the sink," Bakugou said through the door, and Uraraka looked. It had been a two-pack, the orange one already in the cup by the faucet.

It might've been coincidence, but a pink one remained.

She pulled out his pristinely rolled toothpaste tube and couldn't help a small smile.

"Don't even think about unrolling the toothpaste!"

"Wouldn't dream of it," Uraraka said through the door, unable to erase her grin as she brushed her teeth and, after a moment's thought, dropped her now-claimed toothbrush in the cup next to his.

She exited the bathroom to find him waiting outside it, and his eyes flicked up and down her once, ears still adorably red as his brain seemed to reconcile her in his clothes. Instead of commenting, he brushed by her and into the bathroom, and Uraraka, too tired to resist, climbed into the bed.

He exited the bathroom a moment later, shirtless, and Uraraka shut her eyes to avoid noticing too much of him. He climbed into the bed behind her and seemed to hesitate for a single second before his arm snaked around her, pulling her back into his chest as he pressed his nose behind her ear, lips grazing the tender hollow place between her jaw and her neck.

There was a thin metal band around his wrist—a Quirk suppressor—but somehow, Uraraka had no fear of Quirk inducing nightmares curled into him as she was.

They were quiet for a long moment, breathing together like that was all that mattered in the world.

And then, as she was beginning to drift off, Bakugou inhaled.

"Mm, 'Chako?" he mumbled against the space beneath her ear.

"Hmm?" she asked around her heart, which expanded into her throat at her name in his sleepy voice.

"Thank you."

She reached for his hand, curled against her stomach, and entwined her fingers with his. "Always, Katsuki."

He squeezed her hand, tightening his arm around her and pulling her into him until their bodies were flush against each other at every possible point.

Just when she thought he'd fallen asleep, he shifted again, nuzzling against her ear and speaking the words he'd been silently telling her all along. "I'm counting on it, Ochako."

And coffee and toothpaste and unexpected naps might mean trust in this odd little world they'd built together, but they had nothing on those five perfect words.

"I'm counting on you, too."

END

Me: I'm not going to make this too fluffy.
Also me: *jumps headfirst into a massive vat of cotton balls screaming KACCHAKOOOOOO*

Anyway, this is the end of Quiet Gratitude and my last piece for Kacchako Week 2018 (I know it's way late, shut up). Thank you all so much for all the love and support!

Y'all can always hit me up on tumblr (tharroswrites) and I've joined the Kacchako Discord Server too, so come scream with me sometime.