Just a small drabble I felt like writing. Hope you enjoy!

Momo isn't sure what draws her out of bed at one in the morning. It isn't her dreams - for once, her mind is blessedly empty. Something else has disturbed her rest. A feeling of… concern rests in her chest, and she pushes her blanket away, yawning as she slides out of bed and into her slippers before making her way out of her room. The hall is silent, but she isn't surprised. Everyone's bound to be settled down by now. Getting into the elevator, she pushes the button for the first floor.

The concern grows as she steps into the common room. The light to the kitchen is on, and she walks towards it, eyes widening when she hears the unmistakable sound of someone sniffling. Her steps speed up, and she opens her mouth to offer some comfort, only to freeze when she sees who it is.

His back is to her, and he doesn't turn to acknowledge her presence. She isn't even sure he heard her approach. A cup of what she assumes his tea sits abandoned by him as his shoulders shake with barely restrained sobs. The concern in her chest practically overwhelms her.

"Bakugou?"

With a soft gasp, he freezes. Momo says nothing, just waits.

"What do you want, Ponytail?"

Momo rolls her eyes at the stupid nickname. "It felt like something was wrong, so I came to check."

He snorted. "Nothing's wrong. I just came down for some tea."

"But you're crying."

"So fucking what?"

"So maybe… you should talk about it to someone?"

At this, he spins around. There are clear tear tracks on his face, but his eyes burn with anger. On instinct, she steps back.

"Why the fuck would I talk to you about anything? Fuck off and mind your business!"

She is used to his anger, but it still hurts. She looks to the floor, hands balled into fists as her sides. "I didn't say talk to me, Bakugou. You don't always have to be so rude!" She spins around, the feeling in her chest morphing into a gross combination of anger and sadness. Before she can take a step, however, Bakugou speaks. "Wait."

Momo freezes. Bakugou's voice is oddly quiet, laced with a light edge of desperation she's never heard from him before. It roots her to the spot. "What?"

"I - I'm sorry."

The apology sounds strange coming out of his mouth. Slowly, she turns back around. Bakugou stares at her, expression unreadable, hands stuffed in the pockets of his sweatpants. "I'm just… going through some stuff. S'not your fault though, so… sorry."

Momo blinks, once, twice. "Um. I-It's okay."

Bakugou shakes his head, looking down at the ground. "Can I ask you something?"

"Of course. Anything."

He hesitates, then, so softly she almost misses it: "Do you think I'm going to become a villain?"

Of all the questions she expects him to ask, that is not one of them, but suddenly, everything clicks into place. No one in their class has asked Bakugou what exactly happened while he was kidnapped, but everyone knew why he had been. The villains had taken one look at Bakugou and decided he would make the perfect villain, with his destructive quirk and aggressive attitude. Momo understood that much, but she herself had never been able to see him like that. Yes, he scares her sometimes, and she wonders how someone could be so angry all of the time - but he wasn't villain material. Anyone who took the time to just look at him could tell you that!

Bakugou shifts, and Momo realizes she hasn't said anything out loud. Her heart clenches when she sees the hurt in his eyes. Without thinking, she rushes forward, throwing her arms around him and holding on tight.

"You will never be a villain Bakugou. I don't care what those villains may have said to you, they're wrong. Everyone can see how much you want to be a hero, and you will be a great one when the time comes. I'll admit, your attitude could use some work, but you are not a villain, and you never will be. I'll make sure of it myself if I have to."

Momo readies herself to be pushed way - she's violating his personal space, after all - but she's shocked when his arms come up to wrap around her, holding her close. His body is trembling, and with a soft hiccup, he begins to cry into her shoulder. He makes almost no noise, but Momo can feel the shoulder of her shirt getting wet. She pulls away, just enough to take his hand and lead him to one of the couches. Bakugou doesn't fight her, not even when she pushes his head down onto her lap. He kept crying, and she let him, running her fingers through his hair.

Eventually, his sobs slow, until only the occasional sniffle escapes him. He sits up, wiping his eyes with the backs of his hands.

Momo put a hand on his shoulder. "Are you feeling better?"

He nods.

"Good. Would you like your tea?"

He nods again, and Momo rises to fetch it, getting a small glass of water for herself. She hands him the cup of tea and sits back down.

"Listen, Bakugou," she murmurs, "I don't expect anything to change between us, but you are always welcome to come to me if you need someone. It doesn't matter if you just want to sit quietly. I'll do it."

Bakugou's hand trembles minutely, and his grip tightens on his cup. "Why are you doing this?" he whispered.

"Because I have nightmares, too. And just because I want to. You're one of my classmates. I care about you."

You shouldn't," he sighs, "but thanks anyway."

Momo blinks in surprise once more. Another thank you? No one will ever believe her. She smiles. "You're welcome." A yawn pops out of her throat - whatever energy she may have had has now evaporated. Standing, she offers a hand. "We should head to bed now. It's late."

Bakugou takes her hand, standing up. He doesn't let go as they take their cups to the kitchen, or even when they walk toward the elevator. He doesn't let go until they reach his floor. He steps out of the elevator, pauses, then spins around, pulling Momo into a tight hug. "Goodnight, Yaoyorozu."

"Goodnight, Bakugou." she whispers, smiling as he steps back. The elevator doors close, and he's gone.

Back on her floor, Momo makes her way back to her room. Sliding back under her blankets, she sighs, closing her eyes. Despite what has happened, something still doesn't feel right. Opening her eyes, she picks up her phone from the bedside table, unlocking it and scrolling through her contacts. She types out a quick message.

Momo: What happened tonight stays between us. So please do not worry, if you were worried at all.

She doesn't expect a response, but she receives one almost immediately, a single emoji, exhaling in relief. She can't help it - she giggles, putting her phone on back on the table before closing her eyes and drifting off to sleep.

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