AN: Another little piece, just trying to get a feel for the characters. I'm working on something longer, but these little things keep popping into my head. I hope you'll enjoy it. Thanks so much for reading! Love, ~Rose
Stronger
By the Black Rose
'I lost. I'm such an idiot.' Ochako Uraraka slumped in her seat inside Waiting Room 2. Tears burned the rims of her eyes. She stared at her pink flip phone; it fit perfectly in the palm of her hand. She didn't need to open it.
She didn't need to call her parents. To hear their voices filled with concern. Supportive. Loving.
Ochako didn't deserve their helpful, if banal, encouragement. She'd failed.
'All my training. And it wasn't enough.' The first year UA student pressed the palm of her hand to her cheek.
'But, who knew he could possibly….' She clamped her eyelids shut. 'I knew he was strong. But, one shot?'
She slid her chair back and laid her head on her forearm.
...
"Thank you, Bakugou. For keeping your eyes focused on me." She brought the tips of her fingers together. "Release."
Ochako broke into a run.
Her muscles burned with every step. The sweet smell of smoke from Bakugou's nitroglycerin blasts filled the air. Her lungs screamed.
His outline. She could see him up ahead. He pulsed in electric detail. Every bead of sweat on his forehead; telltale tracks slipping down his jaw.
He was the goal. She just had to touch him, make him float. Send him out of bounds, and she'd win!
A bomb detonated and threw her across the arena!
...
'All my effort, and it only took one-'
"Yo." A deep voice barked behind her. "Round face."
She sat up and turned around. He stepped into the room, glancing over his shoulder as the door clicked into place. Soot stained his cheeks. His dark blond hair appeared almost black in places.
Hands stuffed in his pockets, Bakugou stood in the doorway with rounded shoulders. His uniform oddly rumpled, he glared at the floor.
...
"I can still stand." She heaved for air and staggered to her feet. The arena swam in front of her eyes. But this was the fight. Her fight.
"This isn't over!"
...
Cold and hot washed through her like so much acid melting away her insides. "Did you come here to gloat?" She couldn't look at him. He had to think she was so weak.
...
He walked past her and her female classmates - as they waved pom-poms and made the best out of Mineta's joke.
"Who's Uraraka?" Bakugou groused. It occurred to her, then: he had no idea she had been his classmate all this time.
Ochako stared at him, mortified. She had left no impression on him. She wasn't enough of a threat for him to bother. To even know her name!
...
A growl ripped from his throat. "You underestimated me. That was your first mistake. Thinking you could distract me! Keep me focused on your weak attacks." He held up his left fist. "Tch. Like that kind of stupid thinking could have ever worked!"
She gritted her teeth.
...
"With this much debris, whether he's evading or counterattacking, there will definitely be an opening," Ochako pressed forward. She rose to the balls of her feet; her hair whipped about and stung her cheeks.
"This is it! My shot!" She threw every last ounce of energy into her strides. Arms pumping, she leapt at him. "I'll win! And I'll be just like-!"
...
The first year UA student shook the memory away. 'It's so humiliating.'
"Your quirk's useful, but not offensive. You had to work too hard just to get something to use as a weapon. It's a huge weakness."
She glared at him. Ochako bit her cheek and willed herself not to cry. Not now. Not in front of him.
"But," his inflection changed, and he drew out the word. "It also taught you how to improvise."
"Huh?"
"You should start training with a weapon. Something a small thing like you can carry around."
"Small! You know, there were a lot shorter battles than the one we fought. I went toe to toe with—"
"Yeah, whatever, pink cheeks. I'm not done." He crossed his arms. "You should save the quick thinking for when something unexpected happens in battle. You came into our fight focused on the wrong thing."
He stared at some point to his right. Like he didn't want to look at her, either. "Compared to someone like me, born with a quirk that's easily weaponized. You started out behind - and desperate to catch up."
"I wasn't desperate. You don't know—"
"You didn't have a backup plan, idiot! Your strategy was too much like something that nerd would think up - sacrificing your own body in a pathetic ploy—"
She shot to her feet. "I needed ammunition! You were right when you said I walked into the fight at a disadvantage. But, I!"
She turned away before the tears could escape.
"You'd never seen me at my full strength. You assumed our feeble classmates had ever come close - that they could have pushed me to my limit. That weakling Deku has no idea! Even I am still testing my power. That's what this hero course is about!"
"I knew you were strong." Her fist shook at her side. "But, I didn't think you could blow away all that debris…."
...
"This is it! My shot. I'll win and be just like!" Air ignited with a crackle. Blast waves shoved her off-balance.
Booooooom!
Ochako glanced up as wind and smoke caught her around the chest. Bakugou's right hand gripped his opposite wrist, pointing into the air.
Flames licked her face. The heat hurled her backwards like a ragdoll.
...
"Not with one blast."
"It cost me. I'd never managed an attack that powerful before - not without my costume."
The timbre of his voice sounded strange. Subdued. Real. He wasn't bragging. He wasn't proud.
'It cost him?' Ochako turned around. Bakugou stared at his arm; clenched and flexed his fist. He scowled.
"You tried to gut it out against someone stronger than you. You put yourself at too much risk!"
"If I wanted a lecture, we have plenty of teachers for that. I don't need—"
"Fine. Listen to that self-sacrificing moron, then! Or wait for your critique from Aizawa. But when we're fighting the real-deal, you and Deku - you won't last two seconds."
"I will, Bakugou." She took a step towards him. "I'm not weak. I know you see me as just another-"
"It's not weakness. It's intellect!"
She gulped burning air. "So you think I'm weak and dumb." Her heart twisted into a knot, and she wanted to sink into the floor. She ducked her head.
"Great. Thanks for that. Really glad you didn't come here to gloat or anything." Her voice rasped and she began to lose the battle against the tears. She really couldn't win a fight today...
She held her breath and choked back a sob. The room quieted, but it didn't still.
"I'm only gonna say this once, Uraraka. You," a loud exhale, "challenged me."
She lifted her head.
Bakugou met her eyes. "That's what makes me better." His mouth curved as he held her gaze.
Her heart un-knotted and had the nerve to flutter.
"I was just returning the favor." He reached into the neck of his uniform and pulled something from inside. He tossed a blue and white jumble on the folding table next to the door.
Ochako blinked. 'Is that? My jacket?'
He twisted the doorknob.
"Wait." Her body reacted - lunging forward. "B-Bakugou!"
"Yeah, what?" He turned and moved towards her. She couldn't stop in time and crashed into his chest - fingers splaying across his shoulder.
Her explosive rival floated off his feet. She grabbed his collar and held on.
"What the hell!" He gripped her shoulders. "This was your strategy, wasn't it? You thought you could float me out of bounds? Bad plan!"
"I'll release you, but you have to stop yelling at me. I have something I want to say."
His fingertips dug into her skin.
"Deku tried to give me a strategy. But, I didn't listen. I wanted to beat you on my own."
"If you're gonna hold me hostage, tell me something I don't know!"
"Fine." She took a breath; her stomach flipped over. "I'll be rooting for you from here on - for the rest of the tournament. You'd better win."
"What?" His eyes widened. "Of course I'm gonna-"
"Because when I beat you, next time. I want people to know it's because I'm the best."
He met her gaze. From this close up, she could see amber flecks in red irises. Long, blond eyelashes. A faintly sweet scent permeated the small space between them.
His feet kicked in midair as he held onto her. One corner of his mouth lifted.
Bakugou let go and pushed her hands away. He floated about the room, alternating blasts from his palms to steady and steer. "Heh. This is a lot easier. You do have a useful quirk." He flipped onto his back and tucked both hands behind his head.
He smiled. A genuine expression - light. Infectious. Mischievous.
Ochako grinned and brought her fingertips together. "Release."
He plummeted to the floor. Bakugou's reflexes kicked in, he twisted in mid-air and landed on one foot and one knee. He pulled himself up; crossed his arms and snarled. "It's an insult."
"Wh-what?"
"Deku. He insulted you. When he offered you a plan. Offered to do the work for you. You don't learn that way. You don't get better." His features returned to closed, sharp angles. "That's what I hate about him. He thinks he's so smart. That we need his help. But, I don't. And neither do you."
He turned towards the door. "One day, you'll realize every time you accepted his help, it came at a price."
"I don't think he wants anything in return."
"Why do you like him?"
"Like? Deku? He's just a friend, but, if I had to say," she paused. How could she phrase it? Deku rescued her in the entrance exam; he fought losing battles time and again - and gave it everything he had.
"I guess it's because I can relate. To people thinking you're, er, that is I - could be weak. And couldn't be something more."
"Tch. When you let him help you, it costs you the challenge, the motivation. The drive. Do better." He opened the door.
"I! I will. Next time, I'll beat you. And I won't stop there. I won't stop until I'm the best."
"Talk's cheap," he threw over his shoulder. "I said do better. I'll be waiting. Any time you think you've finally got what it takes. I'll take you on."
And then he was gone.
Ochako stared at the doorway. A strange heat in her stomach churned and ached. His words replayed in her mind:
...
"I'll only say this once, Uraraka. You challenged me. That's what makes me better."
...
She let out a deep sigh. 'Did I make him fight harder than he expected? I didn't win. And I have a long way to go, but.' She grabbed her uniform from the table. 'At least he knows my name, now. And it was actually nice of him to return my jacket.' Ochako held it at arms length. Black burns marred large sections of fabric.
...
"He insulted you. When he offered to do the work for you. You don't learn like that. You don't get better."
...
"I'm sure Deku didn't mean it as an insult. But. I did feel like," she slid into the chair. 'A little girl.'
...
"That's what I hate about him. He thinks we need his help. I don't need it. And neither do you."
...
"Neither do I? Was that? What was that?" The churning, aching feeling broke into pieces. And something small, but new, began to swell in its place.
"Did. Did Bakugou just?" She slid her chair back, and leaned over the table - pillowing the jacket under her head.
"I must be misreading him. Or maybe I hit my head too hard out there."
A flash of his face - smiling while he floated. He called her quirk 'useful'. She hugged the fabric closer and inhaled the scent of burnt sugar and smoke.
'It smells like him.' Heat flooded her cheeks.
"I could swear, he... That he suggested - we could be...friends?"
...
"I said do better. I'll be waiting."
...
She held her battle scarred uniform jacket aloft - soot streaked and tattered. 'Mom would say: it has character, now. I think I'll keep it as a reminder - of how much work, how far of a journey we all have to travel. To be heroes.'
Ochako cupped her hand over the bandage on her cheek. "Thank you, Bakugou. For helping me get stronger."
She stood up and spoke to the door. "I'll keep challenging you, too."
...
"I'll be waiting."
...
'I promise.'