Thirty Days

Disclaimer: I don't own BNHA or any of its characters.

Chapter Four: Sidekick

[Day Three]

[Uraraka]

As the early morning sun rose in the east and the new light spilled over the horizon, Uraraka cursed herself.

She typically ran every morning before class and rested on the weekends but today had been an exception. She was too stressed to sit around in her room and waste the day away. If she couldn't get Bakugou to participate in the assignment, the very least she could do was continue her training. Uraraka had decided on a change of pace this morning, straying from her usual route, and realized much too late that she'd ran too far. The sun had started rising. Now she was jogging back to the dorms practically blind.

She decided to blame Bakugou. His newfound presence in her life had become a constant stressor. If she'd just been paired with someone less conflicting, someone who could just decide whether or not to be hot or cold, she could come up with a game plan. Instead of trying to sweat out her frustration.

Uraraka had really thought she'd made at least the smallest bit of progress with her partner. Challenging him to something he couldn't refuse, managing to land a decisive hit, she'd thought he might warm up. She thought maybe, just maybe, she had a shot of making things friendly. But now she felt like their relationship might be worse off than it was before. At this point, she almost preferred that he just go back to his indifference to her, rather than the disgust.

"Now, go running back to that damn nerd that you love so much, and get away from me."

She felt the frown settle into her face as she recalled his words again.

"We're not friends, round-face."

I know that, idiot. She grumbled to herself, sighing in relief as she turned a corner and UA's imposing building blocked the sun from view. But I want to be.

He'd resent her for even thinking it, but she was worried about him. She knew how badly he wanted to be number one. If he couldn't even swallow his pride for a month and start working with her on this assignment, how was he even going to be able to finish the courses at UA? Let alone work in the hero industry?

When she finally reached to dorms, Uraraka huffed and glanced up at the fourth-floor windows as she stretched. Maybe on her way back to her room, she could try talking to him again. Maybe the new day had helped him cool off…

She doubted it, but her tired legs carried her past her room and toward his regardless. Giving up wasn't an option. Not yet, anyway. Maybe if he started showering her with explosions, she'd reconsider her stance on that.

Uraraka came to an abrupt halt, hearing a muffled cry escape from someone's room. She blinked, and her eye caught Bakugou's door, slightly ajar. Cautiously, she took a couple steps toward it. Then there was another sound, a painful grunt. It sounded like…

"Bakugou?" She whispered into the crack.

There was no answer, but she could hear him from the hallway. It sounded like he was in pain.

Before she could even think, she pushed the door open.

Bakugou was sleeping, or at least, trying to. He was writhing around under his blankets, blonde hair matted to his head with sweat. His face was contorted in a way she had never seen on anyone; as if someone was scorching him with fiery, smoldering iron, terror and pain were branded on his face. She wanted nothing more than to shake him awake, free him from whatever was causing that expression. But she hesitated—Bakugou wouldn't want her to see him this way. He wouldn't want anyone to see him this way. Vulnerable. Scared. All the things he pretended he was incapable of being. She knew he'd want her to leave, pretend she hadn't seen anything, and leave him in his suffering.

But…

Her chest ached, a dull tugging feeling.

Even if he hated her for it, she couldn't let him keep enduring whatever this was.

Her eyes stung as she looked down at him and kneeled next to his bed, "Bakugou…" She murmured, slowly extending her trembling hand to rest on his forehead. He stilled almost instantly, "W-wake up, Bakugou."

Watery crimson eyes fluttered open and found hers. For a moment, he looked at her, like he didn't believe she was there, until finally, a hoarse voice escaped his throat, "Ura…raka?"

She smoothed his sopping wet hair back from his forehead and nodded before removing her hand. She wanted to ask if he was okay, but she was afraid any words she might come up with would be wrong. She didn't want him to misconstrue her emotions and see pity rather than concern. She wondered if he knew those things could be different… unsure of what to say, she sat back onto the floor and waited.

After a dreadfully silent moment, Bakugou sat up. But he didn't look at her. Slowly, his scowl returned and pulled his sweaty palms into his lap, studying them. She saw his jaw clench and steeled herself for an attack, but the only thing he said was, "Why are you here?"

"Your door was open…"

"So?"

She blinked, half uncomfortable, half relieved. "I, uh… heard you. So, I came in to check on you. You didn't answer when I called for you."

She saw the muscles in his jaw tense up again, like he was irritated. But it lacked aggression. He was exhausted, deflated; from the nightmare or her discovery of it, she wasn't sure. His eyes flicked over to her, completely unreadable. Slowly, he reached towards his busted lip and pressed on it, "Don't breathe a fucking word about this."

It was completely unnerving; his vulnerability, his caution. It was a side of him she didn't know existed. But that was unfair to him. She'd been so caught up in thinking about what an immovable force of nature Bakugou usually was, she hadn't stopped to consider that he was just another high schooler. He was human. Under his exterior was fear and pain, even if he wouldn't acknowledge it. Even so, she frowned at his warning. Did he think that was the kind of person she was? That she'd go air this to their entire class? For what reason? Did he trust anyone at all?

Uraraka sighed, bringing his gaze back to her and felt her brow knit in frustration. Sure, they weren't exactly friends. They barely knew each other. But she knew from that look on his face— the shame, the embarrassment, the agony—that no one knew about this. He was keeping this a secret from everyone. He was suffering alone. And for some reason, in that moment, all she wanted to do was be there. Even if he didn't want her support. She wanted to make sure he knew he wasn't alone. "I wouldn't do that, Bakugou."

[Bakugou]

Every cell in his body was screaming.

He wanted to yell, tear his room apart, throw her back into the hallway and turn the entire building to ash. Maybe even himself, at this point. How dare she witness this? She had no right. He didn't want anyone to know. No one could know. They wouldn't understand. Hell, Bakugou didn't even understand. No one was supposed to see him look this fucking pathetic—this wasn't what a hero was supposed to look like. This wasn't what the number one hero was supposed to look like.

But somehow, Bakugou didn't hate her for this. He couldn't.

As soon as he felt her hand on his forehead, it was like everything washed away. The bar faded, the poisonous, taunting words oozing from the villains' mouths dissolved into white noise. It suddenly felt like a distant memory. It felt like something he might actually be able to forget.

Under her defiant gaze, he felt a confusing, overwhelming sense of relief.

"I would never…" Her voice was quieter this time, but she didn't avert her eyes. Still, she shifted uncomfortably on the floor, he could see her struggling with the right words. "Do you… want to talk about it?"

He scoffed and shook his head, "No way."

Even if he wanted to, he didn't know how. He didn't know what words he could use to describe that dream. It was too fucking much. And there was no way in hell he could tell her just how afraid it made him. Their words. Their eyes. What those fuckers saw when they looked at him—an ally, a villain, a tool—

Wannabe hero.

Bakugou shook his head and dug his teeth into his bottom lip, wincing a little at the pang, grateful for the distraction.

"It's about the League, isn't it?" It was a question, but it sounded like she already knew the answer before she even finished asking.

"Tch," Was all he could muster in response.

"You don't have to pretend, you know. You don't have to—"

"Stop it." He growled, "I know you must think you have all the fucking answers, but you don't know a god damn thing! Not about me or any of…" Bakugou felt himself flush as he motioned to the mess that was himself, "This."

Bakugou watched Uraraka's eyes widen and then immediately fall into a fierce glare. She stood and practically yelled, "I'm not trying to tell you what to do or how to feel! I'm just saying that it's okay to feel that way. You don't have to act like there's nothing out there that can run you down, it's okay if there is. Even if you that's what you want people to think, or… or if that's what you tell yourself, then just know you're lying!" Her bottom lip trembled, only slightly, and her voice grew louder, "Even All Might wasn't immune to that kind of stuff, you know?! All that matters is that you keep going, no matter what!"

"Get out." He snapped, feeling guilty as soon as the words left his lips. Two conflicting, infuriating desires rose up within him. The first: he wanted her to fucking leave. To stop looking at him. To forget everything she'd seen and heard and never speak to him again. He wanted her to leave him alone, so he could wallow in his own pitiful world before he had to emerge and face the day. The second thing though… he wished with all his might he knew the right words to ask her to stay. Without feeling like a complete idiot. Without having to explain to her that she had been his savior that morning. And even though she was Deku's stupid little fangirl, she provided him with company he didn't despise.

Bakugou wasn't sure why, but Uraraka's presence was a comfort in that moment.

And his dumbass had just told her to leave.

Before she could say anything else or high-tail it out of there, Bakugou finally climbed out of bed and pushed past her, making his way into the bathroom and slamming the door behind him. He peeled his sweaty clothes from his body with a huff and turned the shower on full blast, making sure it was as cold as possible.

He didn't step into the icy water until he heard the door to his room close.

"Fucking… idiot." He grumbled, unsure if he was talking to himself or to Uraraka.

What say you become one of us?

Bakugou shoved his face into the water, wishing he could just drown it all out. "Never…" He responded to no one, "Never… never…"

Every bead of water that ran down his face and over his shoulders burned. It didn't matter how cold the shower was, it never seemed to relieve the fire that had settled under his skin, even when he stood there until his teeth were chattering and his body was practically convulsing with shivers. But it was still better than a hot shower.

Bakugou wasn't sure how long he let the frigid waters run over him; all he could think about was that stupid fucking look on Uraraka's face when he'd opened his eyes that morning. He hadn't planned on anyone discovering those… dreams. But that wasn't the look he'd been expecting. She wasn't looking down on him, she hadn't been looking at him like he was weak or pitiful.

Somewhere in the recess of his mind, he was glad it was her.

If someone was going to find out, he didn't mind it being Uraraka Ochaco.

And you sent her away.

[Uraraka]

He told you to leave, Uraraka thought quietly to herself as she stared at the door to Bakugou Katsuki's bathroom. She wasn't sure what he was going to do when he opened that door and saw her still sitting there. Yell, probably. But she'd seen the exhaustion on his face. Even if he did yell, it wouldn't have the same… oomph.

He told you to leave… she told herself again, shifting awkwardly on the floor. But…

He'd definitely told her to get out, but if there was one thing Uraraka had learned about Bakugou these last few days, it was that he almost never said what he meant, at least not if it might show some form of weakness. It really didn't feel like he wanted her to go. She knew she was probably reaching… but she couldn't bring herself to leave him after everything she'd seen. Just like she couldn't turn and walk away when she'd seen him suffering. It just wasn't in her nature to ignore people in need, even if they might not want her help.

She sighed. She wanted to help Bakugou, but she had no idea how she was supposed to do that. She knew almost nothing about him.

Uraraka let her eyes wander around his room. She'd never been in a boy's room before, but she'd expected it to be a lot messier. Especially if that room belonged to Bakugou. He was infuriatingly short-tempered and erratic, but he was surprisingly neat. She hadn't really taken note of it earlier, but even yesterday when he'd made himself that mountain of sandwiches, they were all delicately assembled, the veggies were all evenly sliced, and every single one of them had been cut symmetrically… She always thought she'd be more nervous to be in a boy's room. But there was something comforting about this room. Maybe that was because it belonged to Bakugou, and not someone like Deku…

"Now, go running back to that damn nerd that you love so much, and get away from me."

A sigh escaped her lips and she smacked her cheeks a few times, remembering too late the bruises under her skin. Slightly defeated, she cupped her wounded face and sighed once more. Now wasn't the time to be thinking about Deku. She didn't think she'd ever have time to unweave the messy web of feelings under her chest.

Finally, her eyes fell to the bedroom door she'd closed a few moments prior. She'd closed it so none of their classmates would walk by and see her there or ask any weird questions, but now she was second-guessing herself. Wouldn't it be even weirder if someone discovered her there now, behind a closed door, with Bakugou in the shower…

She blinked slowly, eyes darting from one door to the other, before realization crashed down around her.

Bakugou is… in the shower.

She felt the fire in her cheeks before she realized why—if he was in the shower… and if he heard the door close… after he'd told her to get out of his room… then he'd probably think she was gone.

"Oh geez," She shook her head furiously and jumped to her feet.

He'd ran off to the bathroom so quickly, he hadn't grabbed a change of clothes. And if he thought she'd left then there was no guarantee he wouldn't come out of there…

The abrupt sound of the water shutting off on the other side of the wall sent her into a sudden panic. She wanted to stay—she wanted to be there if he needed her but there was no guarantee he wouldn't come out of that room completely…

Naked.

Uraraka gulped and scrambled for the door, 100 percent certain she could melt metal against her cheeks at this very moment. As she reached for the door knob, the voices of her classmates on the other side became clear and she squeaked—

Damn you, Kirishima… Shouji…!

From the sounds of their voices, they were chatting right outside their rooms, which were just down the hall from Bakugou's. If she jumped out now, they'd see her…

But if she stayed in here…

Uraraka backed away from the door and retreated further into Bakugou's room. As far as she could tell, she had no choice. Her eyes darted to the furthest corner, opposite his bathroom, and she practically ran into it, shoving her nose against the wall.

At the same time, the door to the bathroom swung open and a heavy, deafening silence filled the air.

It was Bakugou who spoke first.

"What… what the hell are you doing, Round-face?"

She could hear the mixture of confusion and surprise in his voice, but she didn't waste time trying to discern why as the heat on her cheeks traveled to the tips of her ears, "M-my apologies…!" She said shakily into the wall. Never in her life had she felt so horribly embarrassed. Her heart thumped under her chest so loudly that she wondered if he could hear it. There was no way he couldn't.

"Why the fuck are you standing in the corner?"

Uraraka could almost picture the bewilderment on his face. It might have been funny if she weren't completely mortified.

"Never mind that!" She stumbled over her words and pressed her face harder against the wall, squeezing her eyes shut, "I wasn't thinking and I know you told me to get out but I didn't want to leave… b-but I didn't think about the fact that you'd probably be n-naked until it was way too late!" She wasn't sure if he could even understand what she was saying, it all rushed out at a million miles per hour, but nevertheless he didn't seem angry.

"Tch," Bakugou sighed, "I'm not naked, idiot. You look like a fucking weirdo like that. You're creeping me out."

Uraraka exhaled, cool relief quenching some of the heat on her cheeks. "Thank goodness," She responded with a nervous laugh and turned around, only to be greeted by Bakugou, his deflated, dripping blonde hair, and his bare upper torso. Her breath caught in her throat as she looked him up and down. He had his usual scowl plastered across his face, but he was clad in only a long, white towel tied around his abdomen. The only thing that kept the shriek in her throat was the knowledge that her classmates were right outside the door. The blood rushed back to face again. "Y-y-you are naked!" She practically hissed.

"I didn't tell you to fucking turn around, did I?!" He growled back. Uraraka was certain she saw a glimpse of his ears turning scarlet before she spun back around and slammed her face back into the wall.

"My apologies!" She cried again.

Uraraka wasn't sure if people could die from sheer embarrassment, but she certainly hoped not.

She was too young to die.

"I'm sorry…" Uraraka mumbled, thumbing the rough pads on her fingers. She'd apologized nearly a hundred times by now and her project partner was long dressed and dried, but her face still burned no matter how much time passed. She couldn't even bring herself to look up at him. She wasn't even sure why she was still there, but he hadn't told her to leave again. Besides, she wasn't sure she had enough strength left in her legs to stand. This entire fiasco had left her exhausted.

"Shut up," Bakugou growled from across table, "Just drink that."

Uraraka lifted her eyes just enough to look at the small mug that had been placed in front of her. To be honest, she wasn't even sure when he'd made the tea let alone when he'd offered her some of her own. She grabbed it and brought it to her lips, still unable to meet his eyes.

This is unbearable, she grumbled to herself.

Not the tea—although she could barely taste it—but the atmosphere hanging in the air around them. Uraraka had seen shirtless men before, it wasn't like it was an uncommon occurrence. Especially at UA and all the different hero costumes she'd come across in her lifetime. Either on TV or during training or the day they all designed their costumes. However, Uraraka had never seen Bakugou shirtless. And she definitely hadn't ever seen a man wearing only a towel, glistening after a shower. At least not in person. Not someone she knew. Not one of her classmates. Not Bakugou.

Uraraka resisted violently shaking the image from her mind. Things were awkward enough right now, she didn't need to do anything else weird.

Bakugou being uncharacteristically quiet didn't help the uneasiness either.

She needed to fix this heaviness between them or get out of there—

"Oy, Round-face," Bakugou's curt tone cut through the silence, finally drawing her eyes from the floor to his face, "Are you going to hang around here all damn day?" His narrowed eyes looked annoyed, but he still hadn't told her to leave.

"No, of course not," She said with a frown, suddenly remembering the reason she'd ventured to his door that morning, "I was hoping we could finally talk about our assignment." She responded quickly, setting the mug back onto the table.

Somehow, his eyes narrowed even more, "I already told you—"

Uraraka raised her hands in small surrender, "I'm not asking you to play sidekick, Bakugou." She clarified, "I don't like this assignment either. I'm not sure it's fair. Forcing people who aren't suited for the role of Pro or Sidekick into one category or the other is strange, right? That's why those roles exist in the first place." She gently tapped her fingers on the table, taking advantage of his silence, "If you look at all the match-ups, not just you and I, there's a common theme. Aizawa-sensei is forcing all of our strongest classmates to follow and the weaker, or more reserved ones, to lead."

Bakugou raised an eyebrow, but the look on his face suggested he'd already thought that out for himself.

She continued, "He's pushing us out of our comfort zones. But I don't want you to play sidekick for me. I want to be a Pro, like everyone else here, but we barely know anything about this assignment. Rather than focusing on the titles, I think we should just focus on working together for now. If we figure that part out, the roles will fall into place."

He scoffed, but he didn't immediately dismiss her either. Uraraka wasn't sure if he was beginning to realize that he had to at least participate in this assignment or if he was just feeling less argumentative than usual, but he gave her one quick nod.

Uraraka felt a grin spread across her face. She stood and, much like she had in class the other day, pointed one padded finger at him and issued her challenge, "Spar with me, Bakugou Katsuki!"

This time, he didn't flinch away or fume with rage. He didn't slap her hand away either. A huge, half-maniacal grin lifted his lips and he stood to meet her gaze, "I accept your stupid fucking challenge," The words were the same, but she heard something akin to excitement in his voice, "I'll kill you."

Uraraka resisted the urge to release an exasperated sigh. Still, it made her happy in a strange way. She wondered if he'd ever knock that off, but she was entirely certain that would never happen in her lifetime. She thought about extending her hand further, to try the handshake once more, but decided against it. It was probably best not to push her luck so early on.

Today, she could be happy with seeing that look on his face.