Ever since their fight something had changed about Uraraka. Katsuki had noticed. Aside from anything else, he had been seeing her at the gym a lot more often. It was as if something had been unlocked inside her — not that he cared — and she had made some kind of resolve with herself. Even he could tell that she had an incredible Quirk. Before the Sports Festival, she wasn't even in his peripheral, but if he had noticed her, it would have been with annoyance that she used her considerable power in the most trivial ways (and that she spent all her time hanging around that idiot, Deku).

Still, he never expected her to corner him after class one day and ask for his help.

"Ah, Bakugou," she said, chasing after him. "Please wait, I want to ask you something."

He slowed a little so that she could catch up and turned to look at her. "What, Round Face?"

She reached out as if to pull him by the arm but seemed to think better of it at the last moment. He got the hint and stopped walking to face her.

"Well?" he demanded when she hesitated, scratching her head.

"It's a little embarrassing," she said, brown eyes sliding to the floor as he glared at her. "Ever since our fight I've been trying to get stronger but I don't know what I'm doing. That's why I wanted to ask —" She flushed a little, her already-pink cheeks darkening to something closer to red. "I wanted to ask if you would train me, Bakugou."

Train ... ?

He appraised her. It surely took a lot of guts for her to corner him and ask for his help like this. Even Katsuki had to respect that. But —

"Why don't you ask Deku?" he asked, suspiciously.

Uraraka gave him a bashful smile. "Deku is my friend," she said, "and of course he would want to help me, but," she said, looking at her hands, "because he is my friend he wouldn't push me. He would hold back because he would be afraid to hurt me."

She looked up at him, something fond seeping into her expression. "You remember that day, Bakugou?"

Katsuki eyed her for a moment before he looked away with a dismissive noise. "Stupid question." Of course he remembered. It was the only reason he was entertaining this, or any, conversation with her.

"You didn't hold back," she said. "Even when they started booing you. You're the only one who wouldn't hold back against me. That's why it has to be you, Bakugou." What was she saying? That he was a heel and he wouldn't mind hurting her? That was why? But — she knew as well as he did that she had pushed him close to his limit too.

She was still smiling and he wished she would stop. He stared her down but she just held his gaze, eyebrows raised, expectant. See, this was the thing about fucking Round Face, he thought with a twinge of irritation — she should be cowed but she wasn't. It had been the same that day too: she just kept going until she couldn't even stand any more. He had never seen anything like it.

Remember? He couldn't forget.

After a few moments had passed and he had yet to give her an answer she waved her hand with a nervous laugh. "Well, you don't have to," she said. "I'll have to push myself like you do, Bakugou." A little crestfallen, she started to turn to leave. Katsuki's hands curled into fists at his sides.

"Oi," he barked and, when she turned back to look at him over her shoulder, said, "Gym Gamma, six o'clock."

Uraraka blinked at him. "What?"

"You heard me, Round Face," he grunted, "and if you're not going to bring it all don't bother wasting my time."

It took a second for the meaning of what he had said to sink in, but when it did the look of sheer delight on her face was almost intolerable. If he had been Deku — or anyone else probably — he was sure she would have thrown her arms around his neck. Instead she punched the air with a little hop.

"All right!" she said. Before he could even begin to react she had already turned on her heel and skipped away from him.

Well, he thought, why shouldn't he help train her? He was curious about her power too. The truth was that he hadn't stopped thinking about her since that day. That girl — she had given her all against him. And she was strong, a lot stronger than anyone else gave her the credit for. If she was the only one who would stand across from him and really give it everything then she was the only one who deserved to face him.

He looked at his hands. He wanted to be stronger too, the fucking best. What was the point of wasting his time with someone like Todoroki if he just held back? He would take Round Face and turn her into a killer, someone truly worth fighting — then nobody else at this school could hold a candle to her.

If Katsuki was going to train Uraraka then he was going to take it seriously. To be honest he relished the opportunity: now that he'd seen her Quirk in action he'd given thought to its various applications. He'd never trade with her because his was the best, obviously, but it was fucking weird that nobody — not even Round Face herself — seemed to realise just how powerful her Quirk was.

Katsuki himself could move around in the air using his explosions but gravity was always a limiting factor. If Round Face could make things weightless then there was no limit to what she could do. She'd proven that when she threw that baseball into outer space. Katsuki had thought his 705m was unbeatable but he couldn't even approach her result. Was she holding back?

No, she hadn't held back — at least not against him. She had been smarter than most of their classmates about it too. Of course she could never use a strategy like that again, not on him. But maybe their fight was the first time she had thought offensively about her Quirk. If that was true, then for her to get as close as she had...

It hadn't escaped Katsuki's notice that girls were held to different expectations as heroes than boys were — that there was an unspoken bias they were more cut out for rescue and support, as fucking stupid as that was, and it especially pissed him off regarding someone like Uraraka.

He spent a large part of the day thinking about how to maximise the offensive power of her Quirk. She couldn't touch him in terms of raw power, she needed to be faster. What was that stupid thing she had done for the speed test — make her clothes and shoes weightless? That was fucking pointless. But if she could have cancelled out part of her own weight against him she might have been fast enough to touch him.

He ignored Kirishima and the others after class and caught Uraraka's eye on the way out. She grinned at him and he returned it with a scowl. As he stalked back in the direction of the dorms he heard Deku asking her about it.

"Oh," he heard Round Face saying a few steps behind him, "Bakugou is just —"

He didn't stick around to hear the rest of what she said, shouldering his bag and storming off. It was none of Deku's fucking business what he was doing — with Uraraka or otherwise.

"Oi, Bakugou!" Kirishima called, catching up to him. "Where are you going?"

"I'm busy," he said.

"Getting ready to go work out with Uraraka?" Kirishima said, with a grin, knocking his shoulder. "I overheard her telling Midoriya back there."

Katsuki glared at him. "None of your business."

"All right," Kirishima laughed. "Very cool of you to help her out though, dude." He pumped his fist. "Extremely manly."

Kirishima peeled off with Kaminari and left Katsuki to go back to his room alone. Sitting at his desk, he pulled a notebook and pen off the shelf and scribbled down some of his thoughts about Round Face's strengths and weaknesses as a fighter. He still had a little time before they were due to meet so he leaned back in his chair and, flexing his fingers, idly watching the palms of his hands crackle and pop, thought about what she had said.

Had to be him, huh? Couldn't be anyone else.

He thought back on his match with Todoroki and glowered. Katsuki had given Uraraka what he had demanded from Todoroki. She wanted to be pushed to her limit — he understood how that felt. The medal, the 'wound' All Might had forced him to take, had been shoved to the back of a drawer but still he felt taunted by it. He felt sure that if he put it on, it would sear his skin. It felt like a permanent disfigurement to have all of Japan see him win like that. But if he could fight someone worthy of it, someone strong, who wouldn't hold back then maybe …

When he arrived at the gym Round Face was already there.

"I thought you might get here early," she said, putting her fists up and puffing her cheeks out, "so I thought I should try to get here even earlier to show you I'm serious."

"First fucking hurdle, congrats Round Face," he said as they walked in, although he wondered how long she had been waiting for him. Surely she hadn't come here straight from class? He dumped his things on the floor and, crossing about six feet from her, assumed a fighting stance.

"We're starting right now?" she said, bewildered.

"The Sports Festival," he said, brushing past her surprise, "you remembered what Deku said about my right hook but you weren't fast enough." Understanding dawned across her face and she nodded. Good. Round Face was sharper than her test scores indicated. He readied his counterattack as she tossed her bag aside and prepared to charge him, sweat coating his right palm.

"Then," he roared, baring his teeth, "dodge this!"

He hit her right in the face. It had been a small explosion, just a firecracker, but the percussive force sent her reeling back a few steps. She looked up at him, tossing her hair out of the way, and he couldn't help but grin wider at the fire in her eyes. It was a look he hadn't seen since the Sports Festival. She steadied herself and charged at him again and again he knocked her back.

Smoke filled the room as he sent blow after blow her way. She couldn't get out of his line of fire — but she didn't stop. By the time she was glistening with sweat and streaked with ash, chest heaving, he made a signal to stop and she collapsed on the floor, laughing a little.

He flexed his right hand as he appraised her. She could take a punch. It was almost impressive. He had a feeling that he was supposed to offer her his hand and help her to her feet but honestly fuck that. That's not what they were here for.

"Why don't you use your Quirk?" he demanded. Still trying to catch her breath, she just shook her head. "If you were lighter, you would be faster."

"It's hard," she said once she was breathing evenly enough to speak. "It makes me sick."

Katsuki looked at his hand, knowing what it was to slam against the limits of his power. Round Face seemed to have finished catching her breath, straightening up with a smile. He really wished she would stop smiling at him. "Ah, it's frustrating, but with you teaching me I know I'll improve!" she said, "Thank you, Bakugou."

Thank? He stared at her.

"We really did our best," she said, pumping her fist a little.

"Tch," he said. Was she trying to piss him off? He stalked back to where he had thrown his bag and rummaged in it for a moment before he found what he was looking for. "Oi, Round Face," he said, throwing the journal at her. She fumbled it a little but didn't drop it.

"A training journal?" she asked as he continued to glare at her. Turning it over in her hands, she looked at it for another moment, round cheeks still flushed bright pink like strawberry mochi, and then laughed. "You really always give it your all don't you, Bakugou?"

"There's no fucking point otherwise," he grumbled, "so you better take it seriously." She raised her eyes to his and then smiled as if to say 'of course'. "And you need to train your Quirk," he added, clenching his right hand in opposition to the heat he felt rising across his neck. "You can't just accept your limit."

She nodded and looked again at the journal, running a hand over the cover. "Thank you," she said again, that damned smile returning, "... Bakugou."

What was it about that parting shot, Katsuki wondered later as he lay awake in his bed, that he couldn't stop thinking about? Round Face was excessively grateful about everything but there was something about the way she said his name that last time — it was almost intimate. She had done it before, hadn't she? That day? The words were the same as she might use with anyone else but she said them as if they belonged to a language only he could understand. He placed his hand on his chest and felt his heart racing. Adrenaline? Why would she talk to him like that? Why did he care?

He remembered the way she had looked at him that day. She had thanked him then too.

It had felt sincere.