Disclaimer: I do not own BNHA or any of its characters. Obviously.

Chapter Five: Fragile

[Day Eight]

[Bakugou]

Every morning and evening Bakugou met up with his project partner outside the dorms for sparring practice. Rain or shine, Uraraka always showed up, even if she'd already taken a beating that day during class. For now, they hadn't gone past basic sparring although the training maintained a vigorous pace. Every day, she came at him with renewed determination. She didn't let her bruises slow her down. She didn't let an error in movement discourage her. And recently, she hadn't allowed him to knock her off her feet at all.

Spending so much time with the floaty-girl had proved to be significantly less annoying than he thought it would be. He found himself looking forward to it during class and when he went to bed each night. The shitty dreams, and those fucking voices had grown pretty quiet. He didn't have time to think about them anymore. And whenever he faced off against her, he felt himself growing stronger. To his surprise, their fights had evolved from him throwing her around the mat, to having to dodge a barrage of quick punches to keep himself grounded. She was already evolving into a more competent opponent and that forced him to grow as well.

He still won every bout, but over the last few days, they'd grown longer. The hits she landed on him weren't lucky, they were the result of his carelessness or her watchful eye. He frequently found himself dripping sweat and gasping for air, and she'd gotten better at taking the hits she couldn't dodge in stride.

He felt challenged, excited and invigorated. It felt like it had been months since he'd had this much fun.

He liked it.

He liked her.

Bakugou froze halfway out his door and wrinkled his nose at his own thoughts. He liked her? No. Not like that. He liked her as a sparring partner. Obviously. If anything, he tolerated her. Like he did with Kirishima.

He scoffed at himself and swallowed hard, half bewildered by his own inner monologue and exited his room, heading for the stairwell. It was almost 8:00pm, which meant it was almost time for their second training session of the day.

The makeshift sparring ring they'd made beside the dorms consisted of a few old, torn mats that the UA teachers had offered up to Uraraka. They'd tucked them between a small alcove of trees just around the back corner of the building, hiding them from the sidewalk to avoid the possibility of spectators. The trees also provided cover from any of the windows above them. Uraraka had suggested it, grumbling to herself about how her friends would scold her if they found out she was fighting him without the supervision of the teachers.

Bakugou couldn't have cared less; he was aware of what the others thought of him. And her. Those idiots had obviously never fought her if they thought she'd break that easily.

It felt like a secret Bakugou had all to himself. A part of her he had all to himself. Something that even her friends refused to see or acknowledge. The overwhelming selfishness in him wanted to keep it all for himself. But on the other hand, it fucking pissed him off that no one else seemed to notice it. That fucking look on her face of fiery determination, revealing an uncontrollable desire to push past her own limits, to prove to herself and to others that she could always do better. That she could win.

You… like winning too, right?

"Fuck." He grumbled under his breath, shaking his head. He made his way around the outside of the dorms, trying harder than he'd ever admit to clear his mind.

"Hey, Bakugou." A chipper voice greeted him before he could even set down his duffle bag.

"Round-face." He responded, a hint of frustration making its way into his throat. He wondered how long it was going to take for those voices to go away completely.

He wondered if they ever would.

If Uraraka noticed anything, she didn't acknowledge it and continued stretching on her side of the mat. Not long after Bakugou began his warmups, the floaty-girl jumped to her feet and hopped from side to side, signaling she was ready to begin. He suppressed a smile at her enthusiasm, not bothering to wonder when he began thinking that part of her was endearing as opposed to annoying.

Something was off.

Bakugou stepped to the left, barely arching his neck to avoid Uraraka's weak right swing. It had been almost twenty minutes since they'd began, and her stamina was already drained. Just this morning, she'd been relentless even after an hour straight.

"Too slow," He chided, taking advantage of her exposed, outstretched arm. He snapped his hand to her wrist and yanked, spinning her 180 degrees and pinning it against her back.

Sloppy footing. He thought with a frown. Uraraka usually stood with a wide, grounded stance, especially when she realized that Bakugou would take every opportunity or opening to toss her over his shoulder or bring her to the ground. She'd been implementing that tactic since their second match in their private ring. And she'd been consistent with it since.

Something was fucking off.

Bakugou grit his teeth together and slid one leg between hers, pulling back after stepping in front of her left foot. There was almost no resistance when he yanked her foot out from under her. She dropped to one knee and instantly fell flat on her stomach with a loud oomph.

"You fucking day dreaming or something?" He growled, taking a step back and crossing his arms. "What the hell was that, huh?"

She didn't respond. Slow, shaky arms struggled to push herself upright. Her chestnut hair fell in a stringy veil over her face, but Bakugou could hear her gasping for breath. He saw the trembling in her shoulders. He saw her curled toes, clenched so tightly they were nearly white—she was in pain. He should have known it wasn't exhaustion; she'd been keeping up with him every day.

It was then that he noticed she wasn't dressed in her usual workout garb. Instead of her tight, black tank top and compression shorts, she'd worn long leggings and kept her sweatshirt on, zipped all the way to her neck. She'd worn something similar this morning, but because of the bite in the wind Bakugou hadn't thought anything of it.

He stood there, unsure how to process the unfamiliar tightness in his chest as he looked down at her. As she struggled to push herself back onto her feet. As her legs wobbled, straining to hold up her own weight. As he watched, he realized this was his doing. This was different than the sports festival—he hadn't thrown explosion after explosion at her, she hadn't lifted half of the crumbled arena with her quirk. They weren't competing in some tournament. She wasn't tired. She wasn't out of it. It wasn't fatigue. She wasn't pushing through adrenaline or aches. She was in pain.

Wannabe hero.

Bakugou took one quick step back. A mixture of emotions swirled in his chest, tightening the knot that had formed there. He wanted to say this was weakness—her weakness. He wanted to say that if she was hurt, it was her own damn fault. She needed to get stronger. Until she did, she was worthless. No one wanted a weak hero. Weaklings wouldn't make it to the top.

What say you become one of us?

But that wasn't right. Not really. Uraraka was different from the others. There wasn't a single part of his mind that could connect the word weak to Uraraka. Ever since the first time they fought, and he watched her run at him head on and fall over and over, he watched her stand the fuck back up. She'd taken every hit in stride, she'd formulated a plan, she'd seen her opportunity for victory, and she reached out to grab it. She did everything in her power to fucking win. Just like he did.

You… like winning too, right?

Bakugou swallowed hard. He wasn't accustomed to whatever the fuck this was. He'd never been ashamed of beating down his opponent. He'd never felt guilty for being strong. So, what the fuck was he feeling right now? Why?

"Sorry," Her voice broke through the voices echoing around his skull. She forced out a small chuckle and sighed. Finally, she turned to face him and Bakugou swore he felt the blood drain from his face. "I think I pushed a little too hard…"

Uraraka was smiling. Of course she was fucking smiling. Strained and fake and trembling. Her watery eyes wavered when she finally met his, and in a blink, they overflowed. She seemed shocked by her own tears, and quickly turned away from him again.

"Sorry… Bakugou." Her voice was a lot quieter this time.

"Why the fuck are you apologizing?" He snapped, hearing the venom in his voice. He was pissed off. He was fucking angry. He was a dozen different emotions all at once, half of which he didn't recognize, but he smothered it all in rage. Rage was familiar. Comforting. It created a comfortable bubble around him that he could drown himself in. But right now, watching Uraraka shaking, quivering on the ground, hiding her bruises and her pain under those baggy clothes, rage didn't feel like the right emotion to hide behind. He wondered what the right one was.

She didn't answer him. She seemed too focused on managing her pain and hiding her hot tears from his heavy gaze.

Before Bakugou could say anything else, Uraraka collapsed into a heap, her face twisted into an agonizing grimace. His stomach churned and his eyes widened, "Hey…" He snapped, "Get up, will you?"

Obviously, there was no answer, just a heavy rise and fall of her chest.

"Damn it…" He grumbled, approaching her slowly and ignoring the panic that had his heart racing in his chest. He wasn't even sure where to lift her—he didn't know the extent of her injuries under her clothes. He had no desire to put her through any more pain. But he had to get her to the infirmary. Or Recovery Girl. To someone who could make her wake up or come to her fucking senses or…

Bakugou shook his head. Gritting his teeth and kneeling, he scooped her into his arms as gently as he could manage. With a frustrated huff and another sickening twist of that knot in his stomach, he turned on his bare heels and began jogging toward the infirmary.

As he made his way across campus, and he cradled the floaty-girl in his arms, the lingering voices that loved to invade his thoughts vanished and he clutched tighter. Her touch seemed to have a knack for that. Bakugou wondered what that meant. He wondered if she'd protest to him holding her like this if she was awake. He wondered if she'd make him let go.

"Damn it, Uraraka…" He muttered.

Bakugou glanced down at her tight expression and felt his cheeks grow red in a mixture of anger and embarrassment. With a grunt, he pushed himself to a sprint.

[Day Nine]

[Uraraka]

The blinding, bright whiteness of the room she awoke in was terribly disorienting. After a few blinks and the tug of the IV on her arm, Uraraka realized where she was. To her right she saw Recovery Girl sitting at her desk, typing away on her computer. Her throat was dry, and her head ached, but she managed to find her voice, "Is it morning already?"

A disapproving glare immediately appeared on the hero's face, "Afternoon, actually."

Uraraka sighed, disappointed that she'd missed not just class that morning but her early morning match with Bakugou—

"Oh…" She murmured, bits of her memory returning to her in consciousness.

Geez… I fainted, didn't I? She thought.

Recovery Girl didn't give her much more time to think before giving her a dramatic sigh and turning her chair to face her, "I hope you have a better excuse for all this than that young man did," She muttered, shaking her head. "I didn't have you pegged for the type to break the rules."

"Young man?" Uraraka asked softly, "You mean… Bakugou? Did he bring me here?"

"That he did, right as I was heading out for the night! He looked even scarier than usual, that boy. He needs to work on that temper of his."

Uraraka stifled a laugh. She was certain Recovery Girl wouldn't think it was very funny. Especially considering the circumstances. The two of them had been breaking the rules. Unsupervised sparring was on the list of forbidden activities. And it wouldn't help their case now that she'd ended up hospitalized. She suddenly felt incredibly stupid… She'd fought with herself about going to Recovery Girl for the bumps and bruises, convincing herself that she could fight through it… and now their secret was out and Bakugou would certainly be punished more severely than she would.

"You missed your classes for today but now that you're awake Aizawa will want to see you." Recovery Girl interrupted Uraraka's contemplation with yet another sigh. "You kids just don't know how to hold back. Your bruises were severe, you know. And you had two fractured ribs. I'm sure that's what made you pass out. Well, that and the exhaustion. Part of being a hero, whether it's on the forefront or the sidelines, requires you to know and understand your own limits, Uraraka Ochako. I suggest you keep that in mind." She stood and gently removed the IV from Uraraka's arm, replacing it with a small, circular bandage. "Your clothes are folded up under your bed. If I were you, I'd change and go see your teacher as soon as you're able."

Uraraka nodded and blinked away the shameful tears that threated to spill over her cheeks. The last thing she wanted to do was disappoint anyone. She'd been trying to better herself. And in less than a week, she'd managed to mess all that up. Bracing herself for Aizawa-sensei's scolding, Uraraka swung her feet over the edge of the bed and grabbed her clothes. Somehow, she knew her teacher's disappointment in her wouldn't match Bakugou's. And on top of that, the disappointment she felt in herself.

She wasn't sure if it had been pride keeping her away from the infirmary or her inability to judge the seriousness of her own injuries. Or maybe it was because she didn't want Bakugou to think she was weak. Everyone else seemed to think that she was fragile, but her project partner had never pulled any punches for her sake. She didn't want him to change his mind. So, she suffered.

And got him into trouble.

I'm so stupid… She thought, thumbing the pads on her fingers. In her effort to keep Bakugou around she'd made a miscalculation… and that was putting it lightly.

Once she was dressed, Uraraka slowly made her way into the hallway and headed towards the faculty office. She ran every possible question he might ask through her head and tried to prepare an answer that sounded reasonable. When that failed, she tried to think of any way she could to lessen the punishment Bakugou was facing. It was her idea. She would have to do anything and everything she could to ease that burden. Her project partner wouldn't admit it, but he was going through an unsurmountable list of other problems and she didn't want to add to them.

With a gulp, Uraraka lifted a shaky hand to knock on the door to the faculty office and grit her teeth together when she heard her teacher respond on the other side.

"Enter."

With a slow exhale, Uraraka stepped inside and closed the door behind her. Her teacher cut right to the chase.

"I see you've finally woken up." Aizawa-sensei's voice was thick with obvious annoyance. "How are you feeling?"

"I'm fine now," She answered quietly, finding it difficult to meet his bloodshot eyes, "I… apologize for missing todays lessons."

He knitted his brows together incredulously, as if he couldn't believe that was what she was apologizing for. "You'll have time to make up for it. I'm more concerned with why you missed them in the first place."

"Right…" Uraraka answered with a nervous smile. She wondered if he expected her to apologize for that too, but she kept her mouth shut. Uraraka wasn't in the business of apologizing if she didn't mean it. And despite everything, she didn't regret the deal she'd made with Bakugou. "I don't know if you talked to Bakugou yet—"

"I have."

"—well then you have to know it was all my idea! I begged him to spar with me outside of class, sensei. He had no idea I was injured. I even tried to hide it from him. I wanted to work harder! I wanted to get stronger and I wanted to figure out a way to connect with him for this project—"

Aizawa interrupted her ramblings with a pointed look and what she could only describe as a nasty retort, "As interesting as that is, Uraraka, Bakugou already took credit for your rule breaking. You don't need to try and cover for him." He stood slowly and approached her, his gaze softening just enough to confuse the hell out of her, "I wish you would have come forward and told us he'd threatened you. We would have adjusted the groupings All Might put into place—"

"You're… kidding, right?" She let out a single laugh. Unbelievable.

"No." He responded, his face returning to its exasperated mask, "After everything this class has endured, we wouldn't want anyone to be in any more danger than absolutely necessary."

Uraraka stared at him. Danger? She was speechless. Aizawa was implying that Bakugou had threatened her into participating… right? He believed he had trapped her into some weird, abusive partnership. So… what? He could beat her up every day? Was that what Bakugou had told him? Aizawa believed that? He thought he was capable of that?

She couldn't even focus of the fact that Bakugou had made up some ridiculous story to take every ounce of the blame while she'd spent her entire trek to the faculty office thinking of any possible way to lessen his punishment.

A horrid, gut-wrenching feeling took hold of her while she stared back at her teacher. All she could think about was Bakugou's face as he dreamed a horrible dream, as he cried out, and the suffering he was enduring behind closed doors. All she could picture was his watery, crimson eyes after they'd fought against that nightmare.

Rage bubbled in her stomach.

"Bakugou isn't some villain." She said suddenly, finally lifting her eyes to look at her teacher square in the face. "And whatever he told you was a lie."

Aizawa only blinked in response, and Uraraka continued, ignoring the several teachers gawking from their desks.

"He wouldn't do what you're suggesting, sensei. He has a bad temper and a… uh, abrasive personality... But Bakugou isn't a villain! He wouldn't hurt me—or anyone, for fun! I asked him to spar with me! I wanted to break the rules, I begged him to break the rules, because I wanted to be better. Because Bakugou is a hero, and he doesn't treat me like some fragile doll, and it's the most amazing feeling in the world! I pretended like I was fine, I ignored my injuries and that was wrong, but it isn't his fault. And I can't believe that you'd believe something so… something so stupid!"

Only silence followed.

Uraraka huffed in Aizawa's face, too angry to care that she'd just verbally attacked her teacher. In the middle of the faculty office. In front of… literally every teacher for her grade…

Oh god. She winced as realization washed over her but the heat in her stomach didn't subside. She couldn't remember the last time she was this furious or this disrespectful… She would never take those words back, she meant every one of them. Even calling her teacher stupid. He was stupid. And it was terrible and Uraraka was disgusted that he could accept something so horrendous. But she probably could have gone about it with a little more tact…

The silence dragged on and Aizawa only stared back at her, his expression an even mix between total bewilderment and obvious anger.

Uraraka braced herself.

[Bakugou]

The sun had already set and Uraraka still hadn't returned to the dorms.

Bakugou had spent the past few hours furiously pacing his room and staring out the window, searching for any sign of the floaty-girl's return. Not that he could do anything about it when she did; he'd been confined to his room; an even stricter curfew was put in place especially for him. After class, he had an hour to eat dinner and use any of the dorms amenities before he had to be in his room. He wasn't permitted to leave until an hour before class began and he had to be escorted from the dorms to the rest of campus.

On top of that, Aizawa had also placed a temporary Uraraka Ochako-ban on him until further notice. He wouldn't be participating in regular classes until this was sorted out either. He could only assume that if he was lucky enough not to get kicked out of UA, they'd at least switch him out of 1A. The principal had the final say, but apparently, he needed time to decide. They still needed to talk to Uraraka.

She's gonna fuck it up. He grumbled to himself, trying to be annoyed. For some reason though he couldn't find it in him. He just kept staring out the window.

She should be awake by now. Right? What fucking good was Recovery Girl if she couldn't even fix Round-face? That was her whole god damn job.

Bakugou sighed and flopped back onto his bed.

When he'd decided not to let Uraraka get into trouble he hadn't meant for it to get so out of control. But the lies kept piling on top of each other. As he tried to explain the situation, he just couldn't stop himself—their whole deal may have been her idea, but he'd agreed. And he'd hurt her. Her. And he deserved whatever punishment they threw at him for it.

Maybe this Uraraka-ban was for the best…

Bakugou sighed, exhaustion taking hold of him. He didn't fucking want to stay away—but look at what happened when he didn't. He loved the way he felt when they were together. They could be sparring, or arguing, or awkwardly drinking some fucking tea after she'd seen him half-naked, it didn't matter. She didn't listen, she tried harder than anyone he'd ever seen, and there was a crazy ass fire that burned inside of her. He respected the shit out of that. Out of her. She made him feel good.

And he hadn't even noticed how shitty all this shit was until she'd made it better.

You… like winning too, right?

He chewed on his bottom lip, vaguely remembering the fat lip Uraraka had gifted him. That felt like ages ago at this point and it had healed days ago, but he wished it was still there. He wished there was something to distract him.

"God damn it." Bakugou growled pushing himself back onto his feet to stare out the window again. He could see the long sidewalk that led all the way to the main school building, lit by the lanterns. It was still empty.

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck this!

He spun around and charged at his door, determined to figure out what the fuck was going on, but three small knocked stopped him dead in his tracks.

He thought his heart would jump out of his throat—was it Uraraka? Had he missed her arrival? What the hell was he supposed to say? Did he… apologize…? He hadn't thought this far ahead—

"Kacchan? It's me…" A familiar voice sounded from the hallway.

Bakugou felt his eye twitch. That damn nerd was always showing up where he wasn't wanted. He reached for the door handle and yanked it open, making sure to send his worst glower at that green mop. "What the hell do you want, Deku?"

Surprise pulled his eyes wide and he stood with his mouth agape for a moment, "Kacchan are you… alright?"

The blonde firecracker blinked. The confusion must have shown on his face because Deku kept going.

"You look… uh… is it about Uraraka?"

Bakugou felt himself tense and turned his head to peer at his reflection on his wall mirror.

Oh. He stared at himself for a moment, trying not to seem shocked. He really did look like shit. If he hadn't known for a fact that he hadn't been crying, anyone might think he had been. There were deep, dark circles under his bloodshot eyes. Had… he looked like this all day?

Deku spoke up again, taking the silence as permission to keep going. "I obviously don't know everything that's been going on… with you, obviously, but with Uraraka either. I just… she wasn't in class today. And she's not in her room. Aizawa-sensei wouldn't say anything and uh… Well you've been—"

"I've been what?" He hissed.

The idiot furrowed his brow, "She's been spending a lot of time with you recently, Kacchan, I thought you might know where she is. Is… she okay?"

"I took her to Recovery Girl last night." Bakugou responded evenly.

The bright green eyes widened again and Bakugou returned his gaze with a glare. "W-what? Why! What happened?!" He took an eager step forward, one red shoe crossing the threshold into his room. His eyebrows narrowed, and Bakugou knew the concern on his face was genuine. But it still pissed him off.

"None of your fucking business, alright?" He looked down at the foot that had passed into his personal space and he felt the anger he'd been unable to grasp all afternoon rising in his chest, "Get out."

Deku didn't move.

"It is my business, Kacchan! Uraraka's my friend—is she okay? What even happened?!" He took another step, forcing Bakugou to take one back.

His eyes were almost frantic with worry, and Bakugou couldn't fucking take it anymore.

All he saw were the unspoken accusations in that nerd's eyes—just like he'd seen earlier that day in his teachers face. In the faces of those shitty villains, in their disgusting fucking words, their offer. He was so tired of all of it. He was tired of the look in people's eyes. Was that all they could see? Did they want him to be bad? Did they want him to be a villain? Did they really all expect that shit out of him?

"What say you become one of us?"

Fuck, fuck, fuck!

"Get the fuck out!" Bakugou finally roared, shoving the green-haired hero back into the hallway. He felt the crackles against his sweaty palms, his eyes stung, and he followed after him.

"Kacchan!" Deku managed to gasp, tripping over his feet and falling flat onto his back. "C-calm down, what are you—hey!" He rolled out of the way just as Bakugou threw a violent explosion that charred the floor.

"It's my fucking fault, alright?! I hurt Uraraka! She's there because of me!" He was shouting now, "And she's still there, because I keep fucking shit up!"

Deku whirled around to face him, his posture defensive and cautious. His words came out quickly, pleadingly, "Whatever happened with Uraraka, it was an accident, right? S-sometimes you just go too hard on her, but it's not like you did anything on purpose. I know you wouldn't hurt her, Kacchan, we all know that!"

Bakugou glowered, his anger transforming again, "There you go again with that bullshit—" He took several steps forward, throwing a series of lazy punches that Deku dodged without much effort, "Uraraka isn't some fragile fucking thing for you to coddle, you idiot! She can handle herself, she's kicked my ass on multiple occasions, she-she's not gonna fucking break if you push her! She's gonna be a fucking hero and I just wanted to…" He yelled, a long, frustrated groan, confliction overflowing inside him.

I just wanted to help.

He couldn't even figure out what he was angry about anymore. Why was he yelling? Was it because of Uraraka? Was it because this fucking idiot was galivanting around, claiming he was her friend but kept treating her like a sidekick every chance he got? Was it because of the villainy people saw when they looked at him? Was it because those stupid fucking voices still found their way into his brain? Was it because he'd spouted bullshit to his teacher, and he'd eaten it up? Was it because he'd hurt Uraraka? The one person who had forced her way into his life and made him feel better? What was it?!

Bakugou's eyes stung and he wiped the hot tears away with his forearm.

Deku stared at him wordlessly, and after too many seconds of silence, Bakugou turned back to his room, ignoring the boys who had stuck their heads out of their doors.

"Get… the fuck outta here. You damn nerd…" Bakugou muttered, reaching his door.

"Kacchan, wait!"

Bakugou ignored him and stepped through the threshold to his room, back to his confinement.