A/N: Been awhile, FF.

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

Chapter Seven: Feelings

[Day Eleven]

[Uraraka]

Uraraka had woken herself up in the middle of the night with an idea. A good idea. Maybe even a great one…

The sun still hadn't broken over the horizon, but she was just too excited to get back to sleep. Her dreams had been filled with her explosive project partner—oh, wait, not like that—and even though she realized just how weird that might be, she was so, so excited. She wasn't 100% sure how Bakugou's quirk worked, they hadn't ever had an in-depth conversation about it, but she didn't see a reason why her idea wouldn't be possible.

They could make a bomb! Well, figuratively of course. Bakugou was a bomb in his own right and equally as volatile. But if he were to be above their opponent, say with Uraraka's ability to send him high into the air, he could-quite literally-drop in on their opponents like an actual bomb.

She smiled to herself, hopping off her bed with a huff and ignoring the face of her alarm clock that read: 03:37.

It would be their power-move! Honestly, she hadn't been able to come up with a way to morph their quirks into anything compatible until now. But after her dream, it seemed so obvious. If Bakugou were floating above, he could easily maneuver around with his explosions without having to exert as much force as he'd used when he'd escaped from the League of Villains. If he could launch himself into the air and practically fly, there was no way he wouldn't be able to use smaller—hopefully more controlled—blasts to send himself in any direction he wanted to go.

Uraraka rubbed her fingertips against each other, knowing the grin on her face while she was alone in her dark room was undoubtedly strange, and she bubbled with anticipation.

The only issue she could see with her plan was getting her partner to actually agree to it or try it for that matter…

Bakugou had become much more open with her over this last week but that didn't mean he'd be open to her idea or be willing to get nauseous—like, really nauseous—over an assignment that he wasn't happy with in the first place. Normally, Uraraka would have asked Deku or Ilda for their advice but considering that their teachers had made a point to separate each group during the practices they'd had, it didn't seem like a smart idea to reveal anything to them.

Not to mention… how would she explain how she'd came up with it?

"Hey guys, I had a dream about Bakugou and his quirk and thought of a way to put our abilities together into the ultimate move!"

Nope. No way.

Uraraka's excitement tapered off as she wondered exactly how she would explain it to Bakugou.

"I'm being stupid," She grumbled to herself, sitting back on her bed with a sigh. She didn't have to mention the dream at all. That wasn't the important part. All that mattered was the idea. After all, it wasn't like it meant anything. They'd been spending a lot of time together, they were working on an assignment together, they lived on the same floor in the same building. It was… totally, completely, and perfectly normal to have a dream about a friend… training in a field by himself in the setting sun, working hard on his form and control and blowing things up, all while… shirtless…

Oh my god. Uraraka whipped her hands to face, hiding her reddening cheeks from the empty walls of her room but mostly from herself. It was normal… wasn't it? She'd probably had dreams about her friends before… although now that she tried to recall if she had, her mind was coming up empty… It was Bakugou's fault anyway for coming out of his bathroom practically naked! If it weren't for that her dream would have been totally unexceptional.

It didn't mean a thing.

Uraraka nodded to herself and pushed herself back to her feet once more.

If she'd been too pumped up to get back to sleep before, there was no way in hell she'd be able to go back to bed now. If she hurried, she'd be able to get in an extra-long embarrassment-reducing jog before class. She couldn't help but think that she suddenly, sorely needed it.

[Bakugou]

Uraraka was acting weird.

Not that she wasn't usually weird. But she'd barely spoken a word since they'd met each other in the kitchen and started making their classmate's breakfast. There was a quiet hello, a few words in response to his food suggestion, and that was it. They cooked in complete silence. Typically, Bakugou couldn't get her to shut her mouth for more than 30 seconds at a time—if he was lucky—and now all of a sudden, she'd become a fucking mute. He should have been overjoyed. He should have been over the god damn moon. But for some reason, it was grating on his nerves.

With each clink of a plate she set on the counter in the mind-numbingly silent kitchen, Bakugou felt his anger go up a notch.

Just yesterday she'd been going on and on about how they were friends now and laughing and smiling at his embarrassment—he still couldn't believe she'd managed to get an apology out of him—but now, now she was being fucking weird. Again. There was no way she was still injured after Recovery Girl had fixed her up, she hadn't been angry about their punishment after they talked it out, so what the hell was it?

Bakugou ground his teeth together and glared as hard as he was able into the tiled wall before him, visualizing what it might look like if he blew it to pieces.

Clink.

He plunged his hands back into the soapy water, scrubbing furiously at the submerged dishes. Trying, desperately, to ignore the frustration threatening to overflow and the overwhelming urge to glance in her direction.

Clink.

What the fuck was up with this? Why did he care that she wasn't talking? Why did he give a single shit that she'd avoided any and all eye contact that morning? Why was this silence more irritating than anything he'd dealt with in the last eleven days since he'd been forced to deal with this stupid, floaty, round-faced girl? Why was this more irritating than when she just wouldn't shut up?

Clink.

He was going to lose his mind. This was it. It wouldn't be Deku, it wouldn't be that half-and-half prick, it wouldn't be those nasty fucking voices or his classmates or this stupid assignment. It would be Uraraka Ochako. As she set those god damn plates on the counter in absolute, rage-inducing, deafening fucking silence.

Clink.

"I am going to turn this shitty building into ash if you don't cut that the fuck out!"

Bakugou's voice had come out even louder than he'd meant it to. The clatter from tossing the pan he'd been washing onto the counter hadn't helped much to dampen the sound either. He spun around to face her, finally meeting her widened chestnut eyes. For a moment, and only a moment, he forgot why he was angry.

Then she spoke.

"Uh…" Uraraka stared back at him, dumbfounded, as if she hadn't been egging him on the entire morning, "Cut what out?"

His nostrils flared, "You never shut up. Seriously. Never. And today you won't say a word! It's pissing me the hell off! You could talk about the weather for all I care, but this," He gestured wildly in her direction, soapy water flying from his fingertips, "This shit you're doing is un-fucking-bearable!"

She was silent once again, for a blink and a heartbeat, before her lips twitched into a wide smile and a loud laugh echoed throughout the kitchen.

Now she was laughing. It was like she was asking to be incinerated.

But he didn't hate it.

"Y-you… want me to… talk?" She gasped between giggles and intermittent snorts.

Bakugou could only stare at her, bewildered by his own outburst. And by the undeniable fact that her laugh was as disgustingly endearing as it was weird.

No. He didn't. Why would he want her to talk? Why did he want her to talk? A week ago, he would have been screaming at her for doing the exact opposite. A mixture of confusion and curiosity tied a knot in the center of his chest as he stared back at her face, scrunched up in obnoxious laughter, followed closely by an embarrassment that made his blood boil. This was annoying. Bakugou had dealt with it before, but not understanding himself was starting to get agonizing. He was so used to being wrapped up in the familiar, in the anger and the yelling, in being the number-one hero and stomping on anyone that even fucking dared to get in his way. Then Uraraka floated in and suddenly he was questioning… things. Questioning himself. He didn't like not understanding shit. But there was something about the knot that had wound itself tightly in his chest that he couldn't bring himself to hate either. Like that ridiculous laugh.

"No." He finally answered, turning back towards the sink again. He wasn't sure why he lied.

Her laughter eventually tapered off awkwardly and the two of them finished washing the dishes and plating the breakfast in more silence.

[Uraraka]

As the school day crept to a close, Uraraka hated herself more and more. There was something wrong with her, she knew it, she knew she was being a baby. But even knowing that, she continued to ignore Bakugou for the entire day. She felt his eyes on her several times throughout class, undoubtedly sharp, under a heavy scowl… But she could never bring herself to look back at him. It was exhausting. She'd been unapologetically relieved when Aizawa told them there wouldn't be any project work that day—probably because she wouldn't have been allowed to participate—and the class was forced to sit through lectures instead. She'd kept her eyes trained on the board, staring but not absorbing a bit of the information. Her notebook was blank.

She must have been quiet enough to worry both Deku and Ilda because they bombarded her with question after question at lunch. Luckily though, they seemed satisfied enough with her answer that she had barely gotten any sleep. Which wasn't entirely false…

Still, she felt bad for lying. But Uraraka wasn't sure how to put her swirl of emotions and embarrassment into words. She couldn't even figure out why she was so, so embarrassed in the first place. It was a dream that just so happened to include Bakugou… a dream about inspiration and hero-work… But they would have thought it was weird that she dreamt about Bakugou and she didn't want Deku thinking she had a crush on him or anything.

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

Wait.

Uraraka had to physically cover her mouth with her hand to suppress her groan. Why did it matter what Deku thought about her crush on Bakugou?!

Wait!

I don't have a crush on Bakugou!

Her entire body was on fire, she was certain she'd combust at any moment. All she could think about was how grateful she was that her desk was in the back of the room.

This was all starting to be way too much for her brain to handle. There was no way in hell she liked him. Like that. They were friends now, even if she'd sort of forced him into it. He was angry and sometimes even downright intolerable. Sometimes he was unbelievably, unforgivably mean. He yelled at her more often than not and threatened to blow her up just this morning! He was usually cruel and always crass, and he gave her nicknames she didn't like…

"Don't get any bright ideas, Angel-face, we're still not friends."

Except for maybe one…

But he also treated her like a hero… and an equal… and Bakugou never pulled his punches when they fought. He never acted like she was a soft, weak girl that needed protecting. Which was nice. She knew his respect wasn't easily earned and it made her heart swell with joy that he actually did respect her enough to treat her the way he did. She liked it…

Uraraka felt the heat rise to her cheeks as she tried again to tear her mind away from her project partner and back to her teacher. His lips were moving but everything he said sounded like it was in a different language. No, no, no. This was not good. Not for her studies and definitely not for her health.

She didn't have time for this right now; she wasn't in UA to figure out if she liked one boy or another—Oh geez, I don't!—she was there to become a hero. It didn't matter if she was pro-material or sidekick-material, or whatever, she wanted to be a hero. She would be! She didn't want to be one of those girls on TV that always wondered and obsessed over getting a boyfriend or falling in love. It wasn't cool and she didn't think it was what heroes would do.

Still…

Uraraka knew she'd have to sort out her thoughts eventually. She couldn't ignore him forever, plus she wanted to tell him about her idea about their quirks. They still had an assignment to do.

That's right, she reminded herself. They had only become so close over the last couple of days because of school. If it hadn't been for that, neither of them really would have interacted with one another. They really had nothing in common at all. Except for the fact that they both wanted to be heroes, which was nothing special, everyone here wanted the exact same thing. Once this project was over there wouldn't even be a reason for them to talk anymore, Bakugou would go back to pretending she didn't exist, she could go back to spending her free time with Deku and Ilda and go back to how things were. She wouldn't have to deal with the name calling or the outbursts, she could just go back to her normal routine.

Uraraka sighed and smiled to herself, waiting for the relief of her realization to engulf her.

But it never came.

Instead, it felt like she was right back to where she was a few months ago with her quirk, with a terrible, tight nausea gripping her insides. A new wave of confusion washed over her; wasn't she supposed to feel better? Why did the idea of returning to normalcy, of not talking to the loud, crazy-haired boy, make her feel like the world was ending?

Before Uraraka could even begin untangling the mess she'd made inside her head, the bell rang, and class was over.

She finally tilted her eyes towards Bakugou's desk only to find it empty.

Once Aizawa and the rest of her classmates filed out of the doors, Uraraka found herself alone in the classroom. She waited a few minutes before taking the cleaning supplies out of the closet but Bakugou never showed up for their chores.

[Day Twelve]

[Uraraka]

"So, I… had an idea." Uraraka practically mumbled despite the distance between her and Bakugou.

He didn't say anything. In fact, he hadn't said a single word to her since yesterday morning when he freaked out in the kitchen. She knew that she'd started the whole thing by being awkward in the first place, but Bakugou had since taken it to an entirely new level. After not showing up to clean the classroom the previous day, he'd disappeared into his room. Then this morning, he'd apparently woken up earlier than normal and then made the breakfast for their classmates on his own and left the dorms before she'd even made her way downstairs to help. It was already cold by the time she'd grabbed her portion and ate silently beside her friends.

Since Aizawa had cancelled the hero-assignment practice the previous day, he'd allotted each group two free hours of individual practice in the gym today. Which would have been the perfect time to discuss the assignment and maybe even practice her idea…

But it already been ten minutes and Bakugou was just sitting on the other end of the practice mat with an intimidating scowl permanently fixated on his face.

Honestly, Uraraka had been surprised when her teacher had given them the first private session and left them unsupervised. After their rule-breaking sparring she had assumed every session they had would be watched over like a hawk, but they hadn't even been given a warning. Maybe they were preoccupied with something or thought the two of them had learned their lesson? She couldn't be sure. What she was sure of, however, was that Bakugou Katsuki was pissed at her.

She tried again, a little louder this time, "I have an idea. For our assignment."

Silence.

Well, this is going to be difficult…

Uraraka ignored her growing frustration and walked over to him. She sat down across from him on the mat, knees a few inches apart, "Bakugou, are you listening to me? This is going to be a really long two hours if you're like this." It was unfair for her to say, she knew that. The look on his face suggested the same thing. "I'm sorry, okay? But I have a really cool idea and I think we should try it!"

"Go for it, Round-face." He muttered.

She sighed, relieved that he'd spoken and irritated at his indifference, and then began explaining her idea with less confidence than she'd intended. Of course, she left out how she came up with it in the first place. Even so, Bakugou seemed less than impressed when she finished.

His scowl deepened, "No way in hell."

She frowned, ignoring the sting in her chest, "What? Why not! I mean, it won't be easy for you to deal with the nausea but—"

"I said no way." His voice was sharp. There was obvious hurt somewhere in there. His voice was missing its usual venom. "It's a shitty idea, think of something else."

"No!" It was a yell, which caused his angry mask to falter for just a second, "I won't! We have to at least try it before you—before you… shit all over it! I thought really hard about this, okay?! It'll work!" Uraraka couldn't remember the last time she was this upset. Before this moment, she thought the angriest she'd ever been was when Bakugou had tried to take the full blow of her suggestion and had said all those terrible lies about himself to Aizawa. But here he was, pushing that line, tearing down something she had been proud of. She didn't care that she'd started all of this awkwardness in the first place right after they'd found common ground, she didn't care if she was being irrational.

It wasn't fair.

Bakugou scoffed, something typical for him, but this time it set her teeth on edge.

"Fine!" She shouted. If he wouldn't try it willingly, she'd make him try. With a huff, Uraraka reached for his leg. He'd have no choice but to play along if she sent him upward.

Bakugou was faster, jerking his leg away and jumping to his feet before she could even graze the fabric of his pants, as if he'd been expecting it, "Don't even think about it, Uraraka!" He growled through clenched teeth, stepping back into a defensive stance, "I'll kill you!" His voice had lost all the playful excitement it had the last time he said those words.

She rose to her feet, shoving her bangs from her eyes, and stepped towards him. For the first time in her life, she felt as if she had the upper hand. All it would take was a single tap. Only one fingertip had to touch him for her to emerge triumphant and get him to listen to her. Well, he'd either listen and try it or he'd float up to the rafters. She wondered whether his stubbornness or his aversion to nausea would win out first…

But she was getting ahead of herself.

She had to touch him first.

[Bakugou]

Bakugou had never seen her like this before.

He had seen Uraraka frustrated, elated, defiant, defeated, and probably a million other ways since their partnership had begun. If he was being honest, he thought he'd seen it all. She'd seemed straightforward, if not simple at times, but this was different. It was like the look in her eyes at the sports festival turned up to 1000. There was a certain fury in her face that was completely foreign. The grin that pulled at her cheeks was practically maniacal.

It lit a fire in his stomach.

"Watch out, Bakugou Katsuki." She taunted, taking another step towards him.

If he'd thought she was acting weird yesterday with all her silence, he had obviously never expected this.

Had Uraraka Ochako seriously just threatened him? Him?

"Fuck off, Uraraka."

He didn't like that floating shit and it was obvious that she'd figured that out. He cursed himself for flinching away like that, encouraging her. She seemed to take it as a challenge, and as much as this angry Uraraka intrigued him, his hatred for being weightless overtook all else. He couldn't even understand why she was so pissed off; she was the one who had ignored him first. She had started it. He'd only been giving her a taste of her own medicine.

Then she charged at him, arm outstretched, and he barely side-stepped out of the way before a slap to the face could have sent him floating upward. Aggressive. She didn't miss a beat, using her momentum to launch herself back at him again; she wasn't sloppy anymore. Annoyed, Bakugou realized that was because of all the angry coaching he'd given her during their matches. She understood how he fought now and had adjusted her techniques to counter him. They had an obvious difference in strength, but he couldn't even take advantage of it if he had to stay out of arm's reach.

Bakugou dropped to his knees, once again barely missing her fingertips, and rolled left. Before he could even stand himself back up, she was on him again, this time aiming for his left arm. He grabbed her wrist at the last second, and then caught the other immediately after in his free hand as she came in for the counter.

Just as he opened his mouth to tell her to fuck off again, she lifted her leg and kicked him square in the gut, no doubt in an effort to push him off and get him to let go. Instead, he tightened his grip as he fell backward and tossed her over his head, letting go of her wrists just before her shoulders could dislocate from their sockets. She landed on her back with a loud oomph and he stood up, surprised at how hard he was already breathing, and fucking shocked that she'd managed to straight up knock the wind out of him with her kick.

"What the fuck… is wrong with you?!" He roared, taking a few steps back, grateful that he'd finally gotten her to slow down.

"Me? You're the one… who won't listen to me!" She huffed, finally getting back to her feet.

Bakugou could only glare back at her in response. It wasn't that he thought her idea was bad, he actually loved the thought of falling through the air and becoming a devastating bomb, and he loved that she'd come up with it. Actually, if didn't hate the no-gravity shit, and he hadn't been pissed off at her, he would have considered it. It was a good idea.

But he did hate it, and he was pissed off.

He knew that it shouldn't bother him this much. Her weird silence. Ignoring him. But it did and the fact that he was so bothered by it only bothered him more. And he thought that maybe, if he did the same thing she'd done, it would make him feel better. Even though he had no fucking idea why.

It hadn't.

It had only served to piss her off—which was new—and now he had to deal with it. Because Uraraka was finally standing again, she'd caught her breath, and she was coming after him once more.

It continued for what felt like hours but couldn't have been more than a few minutes; Uraraka would barrage him with countless swings, he'd barely miss the graze of her fingers, eventually she'd create a small opening and he'd incapacitate her just long enough for the two of them to suck in as much oxygen as they could manage. Then they'd do the whole dance over again.

Bakugou really, really, didn't like being on the defensive. But there was a small part of him that was thrilled at the same time. He couldn't explain it. Watching her get angry, watching her attack with reckless abandon, watching this side of Uraraka he hadn't seen prior to this moment was fun. If he hadn't been so busy watching her hands and avoiding her flurry of attacks, he would have been smiling. It was crazy, he didn't understand how he could be so furious and so fucking excited at the same time.

Bakugou had thought it once before and dismissed himself immediately, but he was positive now:

He liked her.

Like that.

He didn't know how it had happened or why, but he loved seeing the parts of this weird, floaty-girl that he knew no one else had seen. He liked the expressions she made. He liked how she would blow stray hairs from her face with a huff and the funny way her cheeks puffed when she was frustrated. The snorting when she laughed. It was weird. And he liked it, anyway.

It was a strange feeling. He had no fucking idea what to do with it or what it meant or if it even mattered, but...

No. That wasn't quite right. He knew it mattered. It felt important. And freeing. And for the first time in a while, Bakugou didn't even remember the voices that always taunted him in his head or the smell of the bar or the venomous words oozing from sickening mouths. He didn't feel the crushing weight of the guilt that had been riding around on his shoulders for months ever since All Might had fought All For One; his own voice wasn't there to tell him that his hero was retired because he was weak, that it was his fault he got captured, that if he hadn't the world would still have All Might.

The crashing waves of his mind weren't threatening to pull him under the surf and drown him in that funny little creature called guilt. He could still feel himself in the water, soaking and freezing him to the core, but it had stilled, and he could finally see the world around him. Now, he could see the shore just at the edge of the horizon.

Finally, Bakugou stopped moving and let his hands fall to his sides.

Uraraka hesitated for just a moment, confusion scrunching her expression just before she lunged at him one final time. Then, when he thought she'd slap him full force in the face, her hand stopped just inches from his cheek. Her dark brows knit together, and she pursed her lips, obviously unsure what to make of his surrender.

He wasn't really sure either. It wasn't like him. But he thought that maybe, just maybe, by some wild stretch of his own imagination that she was standing on that shore in the distance, calling out to him. Guiding him.

"Do you… want to try it now?" She asked through a skeptical frown, tilting her head slightly.

Bakugou shrugged, fighting the grin that threatened to surface on his face. He took her hand, the one that had pulled him from those nightmares, and pressed her padded index finger to his forehead.

"Whenever you're ready, Uraraka."