Iida was the sort of nerd who cared about appearance only as far as was necessary. Not that she had bad hygiene or anything - she didn't, at least as far as Bakugou could tell. But her non-uniform clothing was about as boring as it possibly could be, and every day she wore her long, straight hair either down or in a low ponytail. If she didn't act so very Iida Bakugou might have guessed she didn't want to be noticed, but obviously that was not the case. She only looked boring, she didn't act it.
Then one day Bakugou arrived in class and saw that Iida's hair had been cut much shorter. The top was swept forward onto her forehead, but the back…
The back was buzzed. It was an undercut. On Iida.
Holy fuck, Bakugou thought. Iida was like an entirely different person. Bakugou found herself staring from across the room; every time she noticed, she made herself look away - but Iida was like a magnet, drawing Bakugou's attention again and again. How had she never noticed Iida's sharp jawline before, or the graceful curve of her neck? And those cheekbones, for God's sake. Somehow even her nose was interesting-
Once, Iida turned too quickly for Bakugou to avert her gaze; their eyes met. Bakugou held the stare and watched Iida's cheeks turn pink, even as she raised her chin in defiance. In the end Bakugou looked away first, her heart pounding.
After class, Bakugou was surprised to see Iida waiting outside of the classroom, holding a stack of books to her chest as if she wanted to embody every nerd stereotype she could think of. "Excuse me, Bakugou," she said, "may I speak with you for a moment?"
"What do you need? Make it quick."
"It will be. I just wanted to know why you were staring at me during class. Did I do something to attract your attention?"
Bakugou looked at her a moment. Iida was too bluntly honest to play dumb, so Bakugou had to assume she had no idea what Bakugou had been thinking about. "Your hair, dumbass," she said, hoping that was a good enough answer.
"Oh!" Iida seemed surprised. She ran a hand through her bangs self-consciously. There must have been some sort of product in it, because it stuck up oddly afterwards, a little mussed. "To be honest, I keep forgetting about my own haircut! That's silly, isn't it. It's quite a change. I'm not sure how it's possible it slipped my mind."
Other people might have asked What do you think of it? or Do you like it?, but Iida showed no sign of caring about Bakugou's opinion - and for some reason that pissed Bakugou off. She wanted Iida to be curious what she thought. So, feeling a burst of impetuous energy, Bakugou took a step towards her and rubbed her hand upwards on the shaved part of Iida's head, beginning at her nape. "It's a little short, isn't it?" Bakugou said, her tone harsh. Oh God, it was so soft, and felt so good against her hand as she rubbed against the grain. The texture was delicate, nothing like her own longer, choppier hair, and it took Bakugou by surprise.
She wanted to do it again, but Iida jerked away. "Excuse me," Iida said, frowning deeply. "That's none of your concern. I happen to like my haircut, in fact."
"That's what really matters," Bakugou said, her voice heavy with sarcasm. Iida looked at her through narrowed eyes for one long second before turning and walking away.
Bakugou didn't know what came over her after that. She just knew that she liked the feel of touching Iida's hair, and, perhaps even more so, she liked the grumpy, annoyed face Iida made when she did it. Bakugou made a routine of coming up behind Iida and doing it nearly every time she could catch her unawares. At first Iida's reaction was a jolt of surprise, but as Bakugou surprised her again and again, it seemed like Iida became used to it. She'd say nothing, just shooting Bakugou a look of disapproval: mouth a hard line, brow furrowed, hand on hip. And eventually she didn't even bother to give the look, just continued on as if it hadn't happened. But even then, Bakugou didn't stop. It wasn't just the reaction she was after; it was the feeling of it too, that pleasant sensation of short hair beneath her palm.
One fateful day, after Bakugou did her signature hair-ruffling, Iida spun around, reached a hand out, and ran her fingers through Bakugou's hair. It took Bakugou so completely by surprise that she couldn't respond for a moment - all she could do was stand, stunned, as Iida walked away.
It was probably a bad thing that her first thought - before What the fuck, or I'll get her back for this, was: That felt really good.
So she stopped. She stopped messing with Iida's hair. It was admitting defeat, perhaps, but Bakugou knew she couldn't take any more of her own hair being touched. She hadn't expected her own reaction, hadn't expected to begin daydreaming about Iida running her hands through her hair again, for longer this time - combing through it with her fingers in the steady, methodical way Iida did everything. Bakugou didn't want to admit, even to herself, how nice the idea sounded. And if Bakugou touched Iida's hair again, and Iida in turn touched hers, Bakugou feared she wouldn't be able to react normally - she'd probably smile or blush or something, and things would get weird.
Bakugou assumed Iida would be happy that she'd quit. It was teasing, wasn't it? And the teasing had stopped - so Iida should be glad of that, right? Yet she often seemed to catch Iida giving her confused, lingering looks, as if she was trying to puzzle something out. Bakugou knew that if Iida had a question, she'd ask it; it took a little longer than she expected, but Bakugou's prediction eventually did come true.
"Why did you stop?" Iida asked her one day, when they happened to end up alone in the classroom together after class.
"Why did I stop what?" Bakugou asked, playing dumb.
"Touching my head, of course." Iida actually had the beginnings of a smile on her face, as if she found Bakugou very amusing. "I was beginning to get used to it, actually. Is my hair getting too long now?"
"Yeah, something like that."
"It's because I did it to you in return, isn't it?" Iida's smile grew wider. "You can dish it out, Bakugou, but you just can't take it!"
"I can't take it? What the hell's that supposed to mean?"
"Teasing," Iida said, stepping towards the door. "The minute anyone teases you back, you-"
Bakugou moved to block her way. "That isn't true, Four-Eyes."
"So you don't mind if I-"
Bakugou knew what was coming, but didn't try to stop it - just let Iida reach out and ruffle her hair, hoping desperately her blush wasn't too visible. Wishing for Iida's hand to run through it again-
"I see why you like to do that," Iida said, stepping out into the hallway. "It's quite fun!"
Bakugou smoothed down her ruffled hair and, seething, watched Iida walk away.
