Gentle.

A word not often associated with Bakugou Katsuki. Upon first impressions many pinned him as the "rough-around-the-edges" type, composed of hard angles and callouses peeled, torn, and reformed from vigorous training and hard work spanning his whole life. Knowing him casually only confirmed those suspicions. His attitude reflected his appearance - sharp edged tone and prickly personality built to keep people at arm's length. Rather than thick walls to keep people out like most would assume though, it was a concrete pillar - smooth and without grooves with a pedestal atop it that stretched to the sky.

Bakugou Katsuki wasn't about shutting people out but instead keeping them in their rightful place - below him looking up.

Most were content with this setup (or perhaps content was the wrong word for it). They didn't fight to climb this pillar or bother to lay down the foundation to build their own. They dared not challenge his authority over them

(complacent)

for they feared of his inevitable shouted words or aggressive behavior to be spotlighted on them, shoving them to the forefront of his wrath. So they let him be, focusing on themselves in resignation that they might never rise to look him in the eye, to stare into burning red without flinching.

Until she.

It hadn't been intentional (well, perhaps it had been but surely not something conjured of her own desires). It had been happenstance or, for the more sentimental, fate. Their names had been paired in a randomized system - deconstructed, pulled apart and twisted, and pieced together inside an algorithm. They had been strangers then classmates and then opponents.

Ochako, a girl who came from a humble background and wanted nothing more than stability for her family, the epitome of someone soft and approachable, had been jettisoned skyward to come face-to-face with none other than Bakugou Katsuki.

(Had it been her quirk that raised her? Or simply the universe making an example of her?)

Instinct had told her to cower and beg for an easy out, but a glance into the fire that burned a scalding red and she felt a spark ignite in the depths of her soul and so….

She fought.

She had stood before him in a challenge, her own eyes hard and mouth set firm.

It had baffled him. It had stunned him. It had fucking pissed him off.

It had intrigued him.

She had collapsed to the ground after her defeat and Bakugou had watched in surprise (and mild disappointment) as the platform she had risen on descended so quickly, vanishing back to earth in the blink of an eye.

(She had cried in the aftermath and Bakugou had watched as the earth below flooded.)

(Tumultuous waves thrashed about beneath him and beneath the surface he saw the reflection of stony brown eyes, paved with determination.)

(And maybe, he had seen a spark, struggling to stay alive while drowning.)

Thereon, Uraraka Ochako never left his thoughts.

It had started out innocent enough. He had seen a fire that roared much like his own (but softer and smoother, a strong yet feminine undertone). It was only once it had dimmed that he had realized just how it echoed in his elevated tower and how vast and expansive the sky was around him. Empty. Ready to swallow him whole should he find himself too confined on his platform or take too long a stride.

No one had ever been on equal footing with him before. No one had dared try. He had liked it that way.

He hated her for ruining it all.

(he hated her most for plummeting)

Soon enough, she had invaded him entirely, entering his thoughts and consuming him inside out. He watched her with a keen eye, on the lookout for her to challenge him again which he vowed to be ready for the next time. He paid close attention to her training, watching her progress and how quickly she did so, marking each milestone and ticking it off on the timeline, making sure to always stay two, three, four steps (leaps) ahead. He wouldn't be caught off guard again.

(On his most lonely and quiet days, he worked on building his pillar higher, calloused hands crafting and shaping the concrete closer to the sun that he would conquer and swallow.)

Overtime, he began to notice smaller things. The dim fire flickering in her eyes after a successful day, dancing behind glittering brown. The curvature of her lips when it pulled into a smile, strained against the soreness of a particularly vigorous workout. The glisten on her brow that reflected in those already shining eyes or the plumpness of her lips that slightly parted with her heavy pants as she repeated drills over and over and over, striving for perfection.

(Concrete turned to ash)

She had a tendency to hum a tune on her way to the showers or as she packed her things to leave. If he was listening carefully enough he could place it with a new pop song that played on the radio, though it would always take him a few extra seconds because of how horribly off key it was.

(He turned that song off next time he heard it on the radio with an annoyed growl as it grated his ears because it just didn't sound right anymore.)

Her attention was always focused on that bastard Deku and his other sidekick that was the leg engine freak. Bakugou could never imagine what was so interesting about that nerdy fuck that could enthrall her so completely and, quite frankly, it pissed him off.

But whenever he passed by or announced his presence in his silent style, brown eyes would gravitate towards him. They'd look him over, curious but cautious, studying him like some ancient tome yet to be translated. A risky code to be deciphered, a curse brimming with kinetic energy.

(Bakugou was by no means an open book yet he daydreamed of pink-padded fingertips thumbing through his pages.)

It wasn't long before she decided to talk to him again and he was appalled and outright enraged that she thought herself so bold as to approach him so openly. He had shouted and howled as per usual, knocking against the sturdy build of his pillar to send the message home that he was not one to stoop to her or anyone else's level.

In the face of his outburst she regarded him calmly, keeping face and not budging an inch

(a stone angel braving the fire storm, hands reaching out as the flames licked at her fingertips)

(He was not solid enough to take hold, so he sulked off and ignored her for weeks to come.)

Despite his vocal shutdown of her attempts to initiate conversation and heightened abrasiveness whenever she so much as looked in his direction, Ochako persevered. She was annoying that way and he hated every minute of it

(his lungs cried out for air as he drowned in her closeness, the back of his neck burned with her undivided attention).

Bakugou tried to understand the sudden shift - in both her behavior and his own - and unfortunately, that left him wide open. As he struggled to solve the equation she had stepped in, boldly as if she owned the place, all the while grinning like some dumb idiot just asking to get punched in the mouth.

He wanted her to bruise.

(splotches of dark blue on fair skin, his marks circumventing her neck, haunted his every waking moment and plagued his nightmares - dreams? - his fitful nights)

The explanation was on the tip of his tongue, stuck in his throat and burning in his head. His palms itched in her presence and he felt his chest bursting with misplaced explosions and his head became muddled and his tone lost its bite

(concrete crumbled to ash)

and fuck shit she was beginning to notice. His mind told him to play it off, his chest swelled to swear and curse and kick up a storm, his lungs taking in air to release a mighty roar to send her reeling back and leaving him in peace again

(ash grinded into sand)

It was hot, an unbearable heat to constantly be around her and Bakugou slit his eyes, accusatory as he spat out Deku's name, venom on his lips and leaking from his eyes, burning...burning...burning….but no relief because his quirk had limits and he couldn't turn this into fire, couldn't release the tension

(sand melted into glass)

Hands shaking with the ache to do something, she watched as he struggled to keep together, to maintain the world as he knew it, to return to the familiar and grip his status like a vice. He remembered when she stood before him and yearned for that time again - no he didn't, yes he did. He wanted her gone and wanted her wrapped up within him her skin burning his own, like the sun he wanted to swallow but she was too hot and he could feel himself melting, his wings dripping and shrinking as the earth whispered for him to return.

(glass pillars must shatter)

And she watched him with those quiet eyes, calm and still while he felt his feet fall out beneath him, the earth below rising quickly to meet him as he screamed and shouted the whole way down. It was frightening, it was exciting. Around him was glass shards, rocketing to the earth, the sun glinting off the smooth surface and sharp edges cutting him - once he was so like them it wouldn't have had any effect but now it stings and he bites his tongue to keep from crying out.

He's falling.

(glass pillars must shatter. so they do)

Hands stretch out for him, soft fingerpads brushing along his jaw as they travel to the nape of his neck, nails scratching at his softened skin and his spine is wracked with shivers. He's pulled down (or perhaps he fell into her touch) and then soft lips caress his own chapped ones, swears wilting on his tongue, bitter against the sweet taste of salvation.

(The glass shards continue to fall down below to the earth, spinning and glinting like diamonds)

She never really plummeted. She was too strong for that and it had taken him too long to realize.

(Katsuki watched as they fell, his own body light and free.)

Ochako had sprouted wings and learned to fly, free and unhindered, soaring as far as the sky was wide.

(He was floating.)