A/N: Did you guys know this storyline was supposed to be an original piece? I pussed out in the end but I'm actually rewriting it in its original format. If you like this story, you might end up liking that one too. You can follow that on my website . For now, have some cutsie bonding shit, because I'm about to eviscerate you next chapter, and the chapter after that. And the chapter after that. And the chapter after that. Good luck.

"Okay, okay, I got one." It takes a solid minute before the laughter dies down, tears brimming and cheeks sore from the way they smile just a bit too hard. It's times like these Ochako cherishes most; moments where, if only for those few short hours, they are free, living—everything is normal.

Here they are, surrounding a campfire among campfires surrounding them, something sweet and spicy in hand (a rare delicacy these days saved especially for times like this), lips saturated in mirth. It starts with what's your favourite color, a simple enough question that even she finds easy enough to share and it grows—a favourite food, favourite singer of the good ol' days, favourite past time. Laughter; so, so much of it.

She's not quite sure how it came to this, the here and now where she sits among friends, her cell (both new and old, Shouto perched at her side) sharing what was once little mundane facts of her life that seem so far away but so important now. She doesn't question it either.

It's too precious to let slip through her fingers.

"What did you want to be when you grew up?" Hanta waits expectedly for the first response, no matter from who it comes because it's all in good fun. They take their time, fondling through past memories until it's beneath the tips of their fingers. In hand, they pull hard.

"Construction worker," Eijirou takes a drink, letting it burn down his throat as he gathers his thoughts, "seemed fun once upon a time, creating something unbreakable." They don't miss how his eyes wander to the walls, the buildings that are their landscape, dragging over every crack that seems to spread and every chunk of concrete that is found separated from the structure as time continues to beat against it. When a piece falls in the distance, tumbling over itself in remote silence, he sighs. "Damn near, anyway."

"Yeah, I could definitely see that in you." They all could because those dreams weren't so far away once. "What about you, Mina?" A sole finger finds its way to her chin and she muses. "I remember wanting to be a chemist."

"Wait, seriously?"

"Always the tone of surprise, Denki." Mina chuckles, a smile pulling at her lips, "it came naturally to me; science, math, compounds. All that jazz."It's not long before it fades into something a bit more melancholic. "Come to think of it, had things worked out differently, I could have helped find a cure for this shitstorm." Ochako knows there was no way of knowing and hopes Mina knows that too.

She beats herself down as she lets the words sink in like they all do in some way, the constant what if that nags them all— what if I would have known before, could I have done something? What if there was a way to prevent it, would there have been a chance? What if. What if.

For a moment, no one says a word. What is there to say? It's something that chases after them all no matter how far they run and while they want to console her, make her see its not her fault, could never have been her fault, they can't. Gestures mean nothing and, in the end, change nothing. Words are fleeting, dry on their tongue.

"You still could."

There is hope in every eye that swims in silent despair, a fleeting spark that challenges the dark when they look at Shouto, ever calm and composed as the words tumble from his mouth with ease. There's no pity in what he says, no sense of coddling in the way he says it. There is just fact, fueled by the same what if that threatens to bury them, only what if later.

"I could." The gears start to turn, the hope that was merely a flicker roars in the light of the fire and Ochako knows that one day, when the world makes a little more sense, Mina could. "What about you Denki? What did you want to be?" There is mischief in his eyes, a dangerous curve to his lips and Ochako wonders just what can turn his expression in such a way. "Electrician." Oh, okay then.

Hanta laughs. "Because getting shocked as a kid wasn't enough for you?" There is a story behind this, one with no shortage of jokes made on Denki's behalf she's sure and one she finds herself itching to know. Ochako turns, ready to interrogate with a certain air of devilry that would impress Satan himself, but when she sees the abject horror that paints itself across his face, she buries the question before it had a chance to breathe. "I told you that in confidence you asshole!"

"Wait, seriously?!"

It shouldn't be this funny, and a part of her feels guilty for laughing, but she can't stop because it's so innocent and pure, and light. It's everything that should be more common but isn't and it spreads like wildfire, circling her until everyone joins in, Denki's included. It rings, high pitches and melodic and when he walks right by, Ochako doesn't notice. "Hey, Bakugou!" Mina breaks through the laughter and all eyes find him in an instant, "come join us!"

"Hard pass." The answer comes without a beat missed, not so much as a glance in their direction and monotone, as if it's much too common the way he functions on autopilot. It stings, much more than normal and for far more than just her, she notices. "Come on dude, get over yourself for once and do this for us." No one is prepared, least of all, Katsuki.

Perhaps liquid courage was a bit too encouraging this time around, but when she stares incredulously at Eijirou, suddenly she doubts it. This has been a long time coming, and she wonders idly just how long it's taken—a hardening in Eijirou's eyes, direct and cold that has no earthly right existing in him penetrating the ice that is held in Katsuki's equally direct glare.

Emotion finds him where it once lacked, a climbing irritation, one she knows having to exist under its direct line of fire once before and it's their meeting all over again, only it's not.

It's much worse.

She's anxious; it starts in her stomach, apprehension, and dread and it veins through her. When he turns, surprised and so, so pissed, she has to look away. "Back off shitty hair." Ochako knows where this is going. She has to stop it. "He doesn't have to if he doesn't want to." Her voice is small in comparison, even to her and saturated in something, unlike the fire that has the tendency to burn within her.

Katsuki heard her though, surprised and for a moment his eyes find her and she feels it. Ochako is too warm. It has nothing to do with the fire.

"Or what?" Eijirou stands, knees locked and rearing for a fight, "going to cut your losses and move on like the lone wolf you think you are?" He's angry; it shows in the way his fingers curl and tremble at his side, how his voice rising high above the crackle of the fire. Or is it, Ochako wonders, grief, pain, something infinitely worse. "Eijirou, chill out man." Hanta tries, because he sees the step Katsuki takes, they all do—calculated, timed, violent. "Yeah, Ei, let hi—"

"What happens when you miss the chance, huh? What happens when you're left with no one because you couldn't be bothered to even fucking try!"

"Fuck you, Kirishima!"

It has to stop.

And for the briefest of moments, it does. They are rooted where they are, transfixed with no shortage of reasons—the punch one word away from being thrown that leads to a break no one needs, the words that linger between them with so much sadness and hurt but at the same time so much truth or, and perhaps above all else, Katsuki using his name (albeit his last) , despite how much hatred is clinging to it because he never does.

Ochako lets her eyes trace both Katsuki and Eijirou and there's too much silence between them, too much brewing. She looks to Shouto, who is as silent as the rest and he offers her a glance. She's quick to realize he's in the same position as her—not her place to say anything, not the time. So, like everyone else, she remains quiet.

Because, in the light of it all, there is nothing to say. Or at least, nothing that would douse the flame and smother it without the chance of being burned.

It's true, every last word and Katsuki knows this, but his reasons are true to him, regardless if they're understood by anyone else. But he doesn't tell them, he can't, because there's too much anger fueling too many blind thoughts and too much he could do to make sure that Eijirou knows how right he is. He could walk away; he's good at that. "It doesn't have to be everyone man."

But he also can't let it go.

Katsuki takes another step and the fire isn't needed to see just how his eyes burn brighter than it ever could, scarlet and dangerous. Ochako looks to Shouto pleading, Mina to Denki, Hanta to Eijirou who remains firm against Katsuki. There's maybe a split second before everything goes to hell, rivaling outside the stone walls in which they're kept.

Shouto stands, between them in an instant, a barrier in only a way he can be. Ochako fears it's not enough because he doesn't know. But she does."Let's just—"

"Astronomer!"

She didn't mean to yell, it just came out and too many eyes are on her whether for that reason or another. She feels every single one though, curious, shocked, mixed with something else she was not prepared for. Ochako fiddles her fingers in her lap, nervous, because this is it, albeit unintentional—she's opened the door she never wanted to. It's too personal, too close to her chest, too much.

But the fighting has stopped, so she can't turn back now.

" I…" she takes a deep breath, finding her voice, "I wanted to be an astronomer." Ochako closes her eyes, diving head first into the swarm of memories to drag this from the depths and on the way she sees it all—her childhood, her home, her family, everything. Shouto finds his seat, abandoning what is left of the fight to instead place a hand on hers because he notices how her fingers dig into one another, half moons left on the surface of her skin by her nails. He also notices how Katsuki's eyes tear from her to him, unreadable, but says nothing.

"I have this fascination with the stars, the sky, the idea that there's something more out there; that we're a part of something bigger than ourselves." Ochako isn't sure anyone is listening, doesn't know why the words are falling from her mouth but she knows it's keeping them all grounded, distracted if nothing else despite how she no longer can touch the ground.

The memory has her hollow, weightless because it was a time not so long ago but still so far away, buried beneath death, decay and a whole lot of other shit. She takes a shaky breath, eyes still shut but the weight of his hand is on hers and she feels it, how it anchors her giving her something to hold onto until she's grounded again.

"When I was old enough, I started studying everything I could about space—theories, facts, fiction." She remembers a time where she would dress up as various stars because stars mom, get it? It's punny, and while it brings a smile to her face, she casually leaves this out. "There was never a time you couldn't catch me looking to the sky; I used to every second I could." Ochako opens her eyes.

When did he sit down?

He's there, across from her and next to Eijirou (which she suspects is equally surprised even though he remains focused on her) and his stare is intense. Ochako recalls a time being trapped beneath crimson and remembers it well, rendered breathless because it's different this time; warm, sincere, curious.

Ochako finds her footing, held down by him and she taps the top of Shouto's hand because it's okay, I got this. So he lets her go. "My parents often told me I had my head in the clouds," it's the first time she's mentioned them aloud and she winces, "my friends did too. I guess they were right, you know?"

"Did you ever want to go into space?" Mina has her thinking for a brief second and a smile eventually finds her face. "Maybe once? It definitely would have been cool."

"Did you have a favourite star?" Denki tries and when she answers, his smile is just as bright. "Favourite nebula?" Another answer. And so they come, one after another, firing at a rate she can barely keep to but every question is satisfied with an answer and Ochako muses, maybe it's not so bad. If anything, the smiles that come with her giving them an inch is worth the pain of dredging up memories of long-forgotten dreams.

"Why'd you stop."

She's taken back, his tone two parts accusing and monotonous and she pauses, debating if this will be the one question she refuses, if only because of the way he asks. When her eyes meet him, she expects the same look she's always given—one that drives her away to find comfort in anything else, only its not there. Ochako can't look away, doesn't want to even but something scratches at the back of her mind and pulls her brows in. "What?" She never stopped answering?

"You used to, right?" Oh, that. Well, yes, often in fact. But how would he know? Ochako pauses, rummaging through lasting words until she finds where she sprinkled in the sparse information that gave her away, albeit unintentionally, cursing because it's there in the open but in awe because wait, he was actually listening? She sits, silent, words lost to her and she only breathes because his voice is too soft, cuts too deep through her defenses. "Why'd you stop?"

Because she's not a child anymore. Because it's too painful. Because it cost her everything, once. She harbors it all, instead gathering her knees in her arms as she rests her head on top. It takes her a moment before she answers and the truth of it all hurts as much as the words do. "Having your head in the clouds stops you from seeing what's in front of you."

He would understand, because he once accused her of the same thing, in so many words.

Katsuki flinches but does nothing, silent and trained on her. She knows he sees how her eyes dull as they get lost behind her bangs, how she curls in, how the smile she puts on when the stares become too much is nothing short of a false imitation of the one she's capable. Everyone can see it, but she does little to hide it; she's bare, vulnerable and if only for this once, she'll let it be known she's human, capable of something other than the facade she puts on despite how well she does it. "Ochako, wh—"

"Shouto," he casts a shadow over their flame as he looks to his left, "Ochako." His greeting is stern, friendly enough and it tears her eyes from the ground, and everyone else's to him. She sees from the corner how they tense in his presence, how Katsuki pulls himself forward when the rest of them fall back; he's ready for a fight if it comes down to it, for any given reason. But there is no threat.

Only a familiar face, for her at least. Though unfamiliar is the AR strapped to his back at this hour, secured on broad shoulders and in his hand, one that mirrors. "Tenya." Shouto stands, reaching for the free weapon when handed and it's only then she realizes he's gearing to leave. "Wait, where are you going?"

And why, for the love of sanity, at this hour?

"Night run." Ochako looks at him with a look they're both too familiar — one of concern, trepidation and on her tongue a quip that, if nothing else, will guilt them into doing anything but. It's not that she thinks them incapability (knowing first hand just how capable they are), but fear demands she try and Shouto knows this all too well. "There's something that was brought to light that needs looking into." His eyes find Katsuki and while she misses it, he doesn't.

"On whose guard?"

"Aizawa himself."

Tenya hopes this will placate her, but somehow knows better when she takes a step forward, fingers twitching at her side as if reaching without distance. Shouto reaches for her shoulder, calming intent because he sees it too. "I'll be fine," he starts, and it does nothing to ease the tension in her shoulders, "Tenya's on my 9, remember?" He says this with the hope she won't force herself along, for the sake of old times, when she's found peace (however forced) with the past because of her present.

And this she sees as clear as the weapon in his hand.

"Who's on your 3?" Bold as ever, venom on her tongue.

"Asui." Just as quick, calculated and concise.

Offense rents where common sense should be because she is his three, always has been his three and, when put to reasoning, it makes sense that she would be replaced because she made it so. She couldn't handle repeating the past so she took the chance to not let it fall in her lap again.

Ochako doesn't blame him, but she also can't help the rage that bubbles beneath her skin, justified reasoning be damned. "Well, who's—" On your six, but this, she does not finish.

Because the words die on her tongue the minute his eyes harden, the part of him that she knows exists even still (despite how it all but died alongside him) pushing aside his more calm nature and she's afraid. Not for herself, Shouto would never, but of the anger she knows he harbors—the anger that, after all this time, still has yet to find her. It's coming; and the longer she waits for it, the less she thinks she'll survive it in the end.

"Trio..." She can tell it hurts him to say, that perhaps he was thinking the very same thing. Shouto struggles to find his wording and Ochako wishes someone would say something, anything, to fill the silence that surrounds them. The air is too thick, too hot, too hard to breathe in and it's all over again that she loses what confidence she has, unraveling as she feels every eye on her.

When Tenya steps in, they both are silently thankful.

"We will be good hands, Ochako." She never once doubted this, but she doesn't trust herself to speak, so instead nods. Shouto offers her a small smile, one that she can't return and he leaves her to stand alone, following Tenya closely.

Minutes pass and she's still there, still standing and still staring at the space Shouto leaves behind and no one says a word, leaving her with shaky breathes, fisted hands and drowning thoughts. What if something happens and I'm not there? What if three isn't enough? What if they don't come back? Is that my fault for not trying hard enough? What if—

"Demolition."

Definitely not her train of thinking, but it effectively derails every negative thought nonetheless. Ochako turns just a bit too quick because there's no way I heard that right. But she isn't wrong; his eyes are still trained on her as if waiting for her to realize that yes, he said it because yes, he sees her fighting and no, he doesn't know about what but he'll be damned if she fights it and loses. "What?"

Katsuki squints, annoyed because you heard me the first fucking time. But it's not only her that looks at him with something akin to shock and awe he realizes, but every part of his cell—those who know this story and those who don't, who eagerly wait for him to finish.

He has a mind to leave it alone, let the word linger and let them fester just because he can, a devious smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. But then he sees her and the way she hangs on his word, hoping she's not wrong despite knowing she's not. Katsuki caves. "When I was a runt, I wanted to do demolition."

Ochako smiles, and he looks away.

It's the first of anything she's learned from him willingly, aside from what she already knows—brash behavioral tendencies and his ability to be prone to unfiltered anger though, astonishingly, never fully controlled by it. He is a puzzle; she's said this before, but it's the first piece she's received from open palms and, she notes with unbridled satisfaction, the first wall to go down.

"That's right," Eijirou starts, mischief in his eyes and Katsuki can already feel the payback coming, "I seem to recall you were gonna destroy shit and I was gonna rebuild it." She giggles, hand over her mouth in a poor attempt at hiding it but it breaks through. They all follow suit and rose finds his cheeks too easily. He's exposed; stripped of his shield and tossed into the fire to burn of embarrassment all because he was an asshole and Eijirou decided to grow a set tonight of all nights.

Katsuki smacks him, a pure reflex he would swear when asked later on, but doesn't deny it in the end. He deserves this; even he can admit he's been an ass (though never out loud, he would never give them the satisfaction) and he will take it as it comes, begrudgingly. At least she stopped fucking fidgeting, noting distantly how she finally took a seat because for whatever reason and above all else that is what bothered him the most.

But then she stops laughing, abrupt and crestfallen and veiled concern finds him all over again.

"So let me get this straight." Ochako pauses, gathering her thoughts and leaves them on edge until her hand raises and she points one finger in his direction. "Demolition." She says it so matter of fact like it's the most obvious profession in the world that he could have chosen then or now and it pins him to his seat. She follows the line, "construction, chemist, electrician." Her finger stops on Hanta and she waits with a question in her eyes."The medical field, if that's what you're wondering."

Ochako nods—it was.

"Astronomer." She points to herself, then nothing. He waits, like the rest with bated breath because she has a point clearly and still nothing. She's done little more than state what's now the obvious and Katsuki has half a mind to tell her to get on with it already, but he doesn't. Instead, he watches her as her hands fidget in her lap, nails digging beneath nails and raking against skin, eying the flame hard enough to stare straight through it.

He's bothered again but lets her be. Because what would it look like for him to snatch her hands away, separated and confined, to anyone who didn't understand why it is bothering him so damn much that she's doing it. He doesn't even know why and chooses valiantly to ignore that realization. "Hey, ochako?" Mina tries and he realizes he's not the only one concerned, albeit for a different reason he thinks.

"We could rebuild the world."

It's just above the hum of a whisper, barely audible over the crackle of the flame and goes nearly missed. Katsuki clicks his tongue, ready to drag the words out of her because what are you going on about, Round Face, but he's taken back, breathless when she finally looks up.

"We could rebuild the world." She's heard this time, her voice stronger, louder, as if the knowledge she has now proves that without a sliver of a doubt, they could actually do it. Ochako looks to each of them, challenging. "Destroy everything," she begins with Katsuki, bold in how she almost dares him to do so, "put it back together again." Eijirou's grin is face splitting, nearly taking him down with the whites of his teeth—or with the loud as fuck slap on the back that has him tumbling forward, probably.

"Light it all," Denki interrupts with a resounding hell yeah and when she keeps going, Katsuki wonders if anything could stop her, "patch it up." Her eyes, always soft and warm, are harder than he's ever seen before. "Keep it from happening again."

She never includes herself, something he notices almost immediately but he doesn't ask why because for what he comes to realize is the first time in a long time, she looks to the sky.

It takes his breath away.

Briefly, Katsuki imagines a small girl; face just as round and eyes just as bright; a dreamer, who wants nothing more than to reach what can't be reached. He imagines a girl who palms for the stars if only to use them as a stepping stone to grab onto what lies even further beyond. He sees her, as she is now and, despite how hard he tried and everything he threw in her way, how she still managed to reach him.

He steps over the already blurred line.

He can't look away, doesn't want to and he doesn't care that everyone is staring at him, questioning, teasing and god only knows what else. His only saving grace is that she doesn't notice, drawn to whatever it is that calls to her because even he can't justify why she holds him so intensely."We could rebuild the world," Ochako says for the third time as she smiles, eyes tore from the night sky and brought back to reality, finding him with ease.

And for the first time, Katsuki believes her.