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

Chapter Eight: Confession

[Day Fourteen]

[Bakugou]

It was Thursday. One of those days that Bakugou usually went through on autopilot. The school week was almost over, he could do whatever the hell he wanted in a few days, he wouldn't have to deal with lectures or his classmates or any outside bullshit. In a few days he'd be able to train as much as he wanted or sleep until noon or go to the gym or watch TV all damn day if he felt like it. His only responsibilities revolved around cleaning and Uraraka—neither of which he hated.

It was Thursday but Bakugou, and the rest of the students at UA were confined to their respective dorms until further notice.

Class had been cancelled.

Bakugou looked around the common room, where most of his classmates had congregated that morning when the news broke. Half of them were excited, the other half annoyed they'd still gotten up early. But none of the idiots seemed the least bit worried about a thing. Sure, the teachers hadn't given them any reason to worry, exactly… In fact, they hadn't given them a single reason at all as to why they had to stay indoors all god damn day, but it was abnormal. Which should be cause for some sort of fucking concern especially after everything that had happened at UA since the school year began, and to them specifically. Classes never got cancelled randomly in the middle of the week.

Bakugou scowled at the lot of them, trying to curb his annoyance as best as he could manage.

It was suspicious. He was certain something was going on. Even if it wasn't dangerous enough to leave a teacher at each dorm, it was something enough to keep them all together in the safest buildings on campus.

He tapped his fingers against his arm and let his frown deepen.

Idiots. All of them. This was wrong, something was fucking wrong and all they kept blabbering about to each other were their weekend plans. Some provided stupid, shallow explanations like "They're tired from working us to death!" and "Maybe they'll just cancel tomorrow too, and we'll get a long weekend!" like the group of them hadn't dealt with shit that had never happened at UA before their school year started. Bakugou hadn't had high expectations for his classmates in the beginning but they'd all been at least strong enough to survive all the shit that had happened. Their attitudes now were burning away the few previous, positive thoughts he'd had about them.

"Should we play a game or something?" Kirishima whined from across the room, sprawled out on the couch, obvious boredom in his voice. He'd already changed back into his lounging clothes and deflated his shitty hair.

"Shut up, idiot." Bakugou snapped from the corner. They were all so relaxed. How could they all be so relaxed? Did they forget the forest or Stain or those shitty villains or—

Bakugou stopped himself and swallowed the lump in his throat.

That's why he was getting so worked up over this shit.

He needed to calm down. Those voices had been quiet but if he kept thinking about it, he couldn't be sure they'd stay that way. He didn't want them to come back. They couldn't. If they did…

"Oh, I know!" Ashido jumped up from the armchair and grinned, "Truth or dare!"

Oh, my fucking god. Bakugou groaned and stormed out of common room as quickly as he could manage. He couldn't be responsible for the damage he'd cause if they tried to get him caught up in their games. To the dorm or them. He didn't understand their attitudes—he never had—but all of this was way too fucking cheery for his liking.

After retreating to the kitchen, Bakugou let out a sigh and leaned against the counter, fighting the tightening of his chest and the emerging memories that came with it. It took all his energy just to tune out the chatter in the other room. It wasn't fear creeping into his head; he wasn't afraid of fighting or facing whatever came at him. It was the uncertainty that freaked him out. Bakugou didn't like not knowing what was going on, he didn't like not knowing what was going to happen.

He glared into the tiled floor and blinked away the rotting floorboards that threatened to emerge from his mind, all through gritted teeth.

This was no good. Maybe his classmates weren't the ones being ridiculous here. If every single one of them were satisfied with Eraser Head's excuse for today's class cancellation, and there wasn't anything out of the ordinary, and no one else felt his suspicions, were they even valid? Was he being paranoid because of those shitty voices or… what? The staff had told them everything was fine. And they were all Pros. If everything was fine, then he should just shut up and stop being this pathetic fucking mess and get over it—

"Okay Uraraka, your turn! Truth or dare?"

Bakugou's ears pricked up, somewhat grateful for the distraction from his thoughts.

Uraraka. They hadn't had much time to talk since their allotted time in the gym a few days ago. Since they'd started working on a new move and he'd decided… how he felt. Since he decided that he didn't hate her…

He felt the heat on his cheeks and shook his head in annoyance, desperately trying to shake her face from his mind. It was so unbelievably fucking lame. So, so fucking uncool. Although, he couldn't even lie to himself and say he minded it. Not really. It's not like it mattered anyway. A crush—or whatever the hell it was—would go away eventually. For now, he decided he'd enjoy it for what it was. It made him feel better. She made him feel better. That would be enough.

The more he thought about it, the crazier he felt and the more he realized that it was totally fucking insane. He wasn't… like that. Normally. He'd never thought about love or romance or any of that mushy shit before, but she'd gotten into his head and wormed her way into all his fucking thoughts like a parasite or something. He didn't understand how he could be so annoyed and embarrassingly giddy about it at the same time.

"I don't know, guys… should we really be playing around right now?"

Despite the wall between Bakugou and his classmates, he could hear the concern in Uraraka's voice. A grin threatened to overtake his face; unwarranted pride swelled up in his stomach—she could tell there was something off too. Maybe, in some ways, they were similar…

"Fine, fine, Uraraka picks truth then!"

"No, I didn't—"

"Okay, truth! Are… you in love with Midoriya?"

Several gasps and a couple of ooh's sounded from the common room, inciting loud, nervous laughter and unconvincing retorts from Uraraka herself, reminding Bakugou of something that he had conveniently forgotten. Maybe he'd forgotten because he'd been so caught up in the assignment bullshit or because she'd taken up so much of his time lately or because of the nightmares and the voices threatening his god damn sanity…

Uraraka loved that shitty mop. Fucking Deku who loved looking at him like he was inferior, like he needed to be saved. Fucking Deku who looked at her like she was a flower in constant threat of being trampled on. It was the thing he'd hated about her from the start—the way she followed him around like a lost dog with this frail mask, stumbling over her words, getting her puffy round-face all red and pathetic. She was Deku's little fan-girl. It felt like forever ago, but he'd known it back then. Back when he'd told her to get lost. But he'd made himself forget; he'd been looking at everything through rose-colored lenses like a fucking idiot. Because he'd only been looking at the parts of her that he liked; the strong, defiant, unbreakable side that he felt like only he got to see. The parts of her that he thought might like him.

Bakugou had never had the intention of telling her how he felt. He barely understood it and the idea of putting it to words was headache inducing. But the thought had crossed his mind, briefly, before bed the night before. Obviously, he'd shoved it away immediately to the furthest corners of his mind. What good would it do? What would he want from her? She'd never return his feelings, and even if by some crazy fucking twist of fate, she loved him instead of Deku… then what? He didn't want a girlfriend. He didn't want to hold hands or buy flowers—the thought alone made him shiver—he didn't care about any of that. There wasn't time for any of that. Besides, he'd decided it was a temporary feeling. Liking Uraraka was fucking batshit crazy but not nearly as crazy as telling her that he did.

Still, despite all of that, Bakugou couldn't help the wave of hurt and jealousy that swept over him as he listened to his classmates on the other side of the wall. It was stupid, so fucking stupid, but a part of him wished that she hadn't laughed like that or stuttered like she did and could have just said: no. Deep down, he wished his classmates had asked about him, not Deku, so he could have heard her response to that instead. He didn't want to wish it, but he couldn't help it. He hated this nauseating, chilling feeling encapsulating his limbs, tightening his chest, weighing down his stomach…

"Don't tease her, you guys… I-it's not like that…" Deku's voice broke through the laughter.

"R-right! I admire Deku because he's a great hero. He's just my friend, so…"

Liar. Bakugou thought suddenly, wiping his sweaty palms against his pants, reveling in that familiar feeling of rage. He grabbed onto it and let it smother everything else. It didn't feel good right now, but he couldn't bring himself to care. It felt better than everything else he was feeling in that moment.

There was more laughter on the other side of the door from his classmates and more frantic denial from both Deku and Uraraka…

It fucking sucked.

He couldn't take it anymore. With a grunt he forced himself to the door and shoved it open. The loud sound of it hitting the wall halted all the childish games and smiles and cackling almost immediately. He pushed through them, heading for the stairs, ignoring the bewildered eyes of his classmates and the abrupt silence that followed his entrance.

He didn't look at them—he couldn't—as he rounded the corner and stomped up the stairs.

For an instant he thought Uraraka might follow him, like she'd done so many times before, but she didn't this time. Instead, he found himself alone on the second floor.

[Uraraka]

Maybe I should go check on him…

Uraraka had no idea what had caused that outburst— actually, she wasn't even sure she could call it that. It wasn't a typical Bakugou explosion. Usually there would be yelling, some death threats, maybe some sparky palms… But he hadn't said a word. His lips were pressed into a tight, definitive line, accompanied by a somber glower. She bit her lip, suddenly reminded of his unsettling silence from just a couple weeks ago, after the League of Villains and All For One… how far away he was, carrying everything on his own.

But whatever expression he'd been wearing when he nearly broke the kitchen door was totally new to her. She'd seen a wide range of Bakugou-exclusive faces over the past two weeks but never this one… it worried her. The only thing she could even remotely compare it to was the one she'd seen after she'd woken him from his nightmare.

She sighed, remembering the pain searing his face when she wandered into his room that morning… He had never told her what it was all about, but she had a few guesses. He was easy enough to read most of the time.

Uraraka stood, preparing herself for whatever it was that might be bothering him this time around and whatever angry words might throw her way, but stopped when Kirishima stood and flashed her a wide, sharp-toothed grin.

"I'll go check on Lord Explosion Murder," He assured her, rubbing his palms together in what she could only guess was anticipation.

She only nodded and followed him with her eyes until he disappeared into the stairwell shouting Bakugou's name after him.

It had been awhile since she'd seen them interact. Her and Bakugou spent almost the entirety of everyday together, excluding lunch, so maybe they hadn't had much time to catch up. She couldn't help but frown though. She was worried. She wanted to make sure he was okay…

"He'll be fine, Uraraka. You know how he gets sometimes."

She finally pulled her eyes away from the stairs and back to her green-haired friend. Deku was sitting across from her at the table, cheeks still flushed from the horrible game of truth-or-dare her classmates had thrust them into. Uraraka wondered, briefly, why it had been so hard for her to just come out and tell them no. Whether she liked him or not was irrelevant. She'd never say it even if she did. It had just blindsided her, really.

It had been embarrassing in the moment, but as she looked back at him now, earnestly reassuring her that her new, angry friend would be fine, she wasn't embarrassed at all. Her cheeks weren't burning. Her heart wasn't beating out of her chest. There was no giddy euphoria or butterflies fluttering around in her stomach like before, and it was weird, but she was grateful. He was a dear friend, after all. An amazing hero. Someone she aspired to be like. It had been hard to say no when they asked her if she loved him because, despite all the different ways she could deny it, she had definitely felt something before. She had liked him, but it felt different now, somehow. Maybe she had been confusing adoration for romance? Or… something? She couldn't be sure.

"Yeah, I know… He just looked weird, that's all," Uraraka said quietly, resisting the urge to look back at the stairwell once more, "And I'm sorry, by the way. For Mina. Super weird thing to ask." She laughed nervously and pressed her padded fingers together with what she only assumed was a relatively awkward smile.

"Ah, don't worry about it…" Deku gave her an equally awkward smile in return, cheeks still pink under his freckles, "I know it's nothing like that."

"Good!" She responded just a little too loudly, "Uh… good."

Before, the thought of everyone thinking she had a crush on Deku made her so embarrassed she thought she might actually die. Like her heart would stop at any moment and she'd just keel over—all dreams on being a hero dashed in an instant of teenage hormones. But now it just felt… wrong somehow? It made her feel guilty, not embarrassed. Mostly because she didn't want him getting the wrong idea—

Wait. Him? Deku? No…

"Whenever you're ready, Uraraka."

Uraraka thought she might literally catch fire as her brain replayed that scene in her head—over and over again. She'd never seen Bakugou look like… that. There was a softness to his expression and his voice that she almost thought she imagined. Honestly, she wasn't fully convinced that she hadn't just conjured it up with her brain. She was certain that even if she tried to describe it to someone, no one would believe it in a million years. She barely did and she was the only one who actually witnessed it.

Bakugou had taken her hand so slowly, almost like he thought she might rip it away when he touched her. Like he was testing the waters... Like he was making sure that was what he actually wanted to do. And then, briefly, he had run his thumb over the pads of her fingers before pressing them to his sweaty forehead. He'd smiled. Really smiled. Not his crazy, maniacal grin accompanied by sparky palms and flashing eyes. The memory made her stomach twist and tie itself in knots and sent shivers down her arms.

She rubbed her arms in a sad attempt to alleviate the goosebumps that had risen on her skin. Oh geez, Uraraka cursed her thoughts, hoping the heat on her cheeks wasn't visible to her friends across from her, I don't care if Bakugou gets the wrong idea!

Unfortunately, this had become a much more common occurrence these past few days… Or, if she was being honest, maybe these past two weeks. Uraraka would think of Bakugou more often than she liked to admit and then she'd spend the next few minutes trying to correct her own thoughts, with unnerving frequency, that she didn't have some sort of feelings for her new friend. Feelings, she had decided to call them, because that could be interpreted in any number of ways and she refused to put the word crush anywhere near Bakugou Katsuki.

Who am I trying to convince?!

Uraraka sighed and stole another glance at the stairwell before standing up and taking her half-eaten breakfast to the kitchen.

I don't like Bakugou. She thought, trying to make the voice in her head sound resolute.

Uraraka scrapped the remainder of her breakfast into the trash can and placed her plate in the sink before turning on the faucet.

I don't like Bakugou.

Somehow it sounded even less convincing the second time.

I don't… like Bakugou…

Uraraka sighed and stared at the water pooling onto the dish, unable to find the energy to actually begin washing it. She thought that repeating it over and over again might help but it just kept reminding her that, even if she had… feelings for Bakugou, she didn't know what that was supposed to mean or how she was supposed to deal with them. How did he manage to make her feel so strong all the time, like she could take on the whole world by herself, and yet so, so defeated right at this moment? What on earth would he think if he thought she liked him? She'd finally gotten him to open up a bit, she was certain they could call each other friends even if he might never say it outright, and now here she was, bringing all this to their table… She didn't want to ruin whatever they were because she might like him.

She sighed again.

It was frustrating and confusing and a million other things all at once and Uraraka couldn't do anything except stare blankly into the steaming water flowing from the faucet.

For just a moment she wondered what it might be like… if she liked him. If she told him. If, in this hypothetical scenario, she ever had the courage to say the words aloud… What would he think? What would go through his head as the words left her mouth? What would he actually feel, not outwardly express, and would she like his response…?

Uraraka swallowed hard, unable to think of any answers to her hypothetical monologue that didn't make her chest feel tight or leave her eyes burning. She was suddenly grateful to Kirishima and his concern for his friend—who knows what kind weird stuff she might have started spouting out when she was finally alone with Bakugou again?

[Bakugou]

Bakugou sighed as he flopped backwards onto his bed and tried his hardest to hide his face with his hands. Maybe if he stayed like this long enough all the uncomfortable shame and embarrassment would just disappear into the blackness and maybe then he'd finally get some peace…

Doubtful.

He was just waiting for Kirishima to come bursting through that door—he'd started stomping after him loud enough in the stairwell to wake up the entire dorm, after all.

He wanted to be annoyed that anyone had started following him, but he had decided not to lock the door. At this point he felt like he might honestly explode if he didn't vocalize some of the shit going through his head… Kirishima was probably the best ear for that kind of thing. Bakugou didn't go to anyone for advice or shit like that but if he ever decided to, he'd probably go find that shitty-haired guy. He was the closest thing he had to a friend.

"Nope! We are officially friends now, Bakugou Katsuki!"

Bakugou groaned.

Fine… maybe he had two friends. Although one of them just decided all that shit for herself and now he couldn't fucking stop thinking about her. Even though she loved that stupid mop. Even though she'd probably hate the whole idea of him liking her… even though he didn't want to date anyone because he never had, and he had absolutely no god damn idea what that would entail.

He couldn't decide if he was infuriated or grossly fucking depressed that this felt like a battle he couldn't win—

"You… like winning too, right?"

Bakugou ripped his hands from his face and slammed them onto the bed. Fuck! What is taking shitty-hair so long?!

Just as the thought passed through his head, there were three knocks on the door.

He knew immediately it wasn't Kirishima—he wouldn't knock, and even if he did it would have been accompanied by a whiney shout or something equally as annoying. If it wasn't him then that only left—

Bakugou jumped to his feet. The air caught in his throat, his stomach flipped, all he could hear was his heartbeat pounding in his ears, and suddenly his hands were unbearably clammy.8

"Urara—"

"Bakugou?" Her voice sounded on the other side of the door, "Can I… come in?"

Approximately a million questions ran through his head all at once—what the fuck was he supposed to say? Did he pretend like he didn't just have a jealous outburst in front of everyone? Was this his chance? Should this be the moment he confronts her about Deku, really confronts her? If he did, was he supposed to follow up with some sort of declaration? What if she admitted to it? What if she didn't?

His ears burned when he realized he'd been silent for far too long.

"Whatever…" He managed to croak, hoping he'd made enough sound for her to actually fucking hear him. Did liking someone mean that you turn into a pathetic, bumbling moron? If it was going to be like this forever, he really fucking wished it would all just stop already. It was unbearable.

She pushed the door open in a manner he could really only describe as timid and then shut it quietly behind her. When Uraraka finally turned to face him, her small grin was lifting up her signature round, pink cheeks and Bakugou swore she had suddenly learned how to activate her quirk without touching anything.

"What do you want, Round-Face?" His voice was missing the malice. He sounded giddy in his ears and all the burning questions that had filed through his mind a few seconds ago disintegrated. Fucking kill me.

"Are you alright?" The smile faltered a little as the worry seeped into her expression.

Hell no.

"Yup." He reminded himself to act normal, to narrow his eyes, to look exasperated. She didn't seem to buy it.

"Are you sure? That was awfully loud, and you seemed—"

"Really, really fucking sure. I came up here to relax and get away from all the idiot that was down there so…" He eyed the door and hated himself for it. He obviously didn't want her to leave but he wasn't ready to spout off his list of questions—he wasn't ready to hear the answers that he knew were waiting for him. He wasn't ready for her to stop being around like this, as a friend or whatever the fuck she was, and if she knew how he felt everything would change and be weird and he was afraid she'd stop acting like herself around him. He hadn't realized until this moment how much he genuinely enjoyed her company. The idea of it going away made it feel like his chest might fucking cave in… So, the only alternative was to get her out of here. "Was that all?"

"Uh… no. Not exactly…" Her cheeks grew pinker and she shifted on her feet but stayed planted by the door. She kept opening her mouth like she was going to speak and then closing it again, like she was trying to think of what to say.

Bakugou tried—desperately—to feel annoyed at her hesitation. He just waited, hanging onto her every word, watching the way she twiddled her thumbs as she searched for whatever words she was looking for.

"I think I… might like you…"

Could the earth just stop spinning? Like… was that scientifically probable? Because Bakugou was 99% fucking certain it just had. Everything had become eerily still, he forgot exactly how he was supposed to breath, how long had it been since he blinked? Everything was hot—from his ears to his fingertips to his toes, every inch of him was on fire. He could only stare back in shock… maybe he'd fallen asleep on his bed and this was all a crazy dream, the fantasy he wanted to come true? Is that—is this—what he wanted? He'd told himself a hundred times over the past few days that he had no idea what he wanted to do about liking Uraraka but if this was his dream then he'd obviously been lying to himself. Bakugou contemplated pinching himself but he knew that it wouldn't do any good. He was certain he couldn't move an inch even if he wanted to.

Uraraka finally met his wide eyes, hers bright and unwavering above reddened cheeks. She laughed awkwardly and shifted on back on her heels, "Geez, Bakugou… would it kill you to say something?"

Bakugou Katsuki knew he was bad at feelings, but he was self-aware enough to understand that when she used the word like, she didn't mean as friends. She meant that she liked him… the way he liked her. Bakugou recognized her expression, if only in a vague sense, from the way she had looked at Deku not too long ago. The memory formed a lump in his throat. Ask.

"…Deku." He croaked, managing to grab ahold of his voice.

She tilted her head to the side in question and Bakugou forced himself to speak again.

"What about Deku?"

Finally, Uraraka moved away from the door, stepping just a little closer to him, shaking her head, "This has nothing to do with Izuku, you know?" She smiled again, more confident as she took another step towards him, "I just told you that I like you and… well, usually the person who hears that confession is supposed to respond with how they feel."

Uraraka was only an arm's length away. She had just… confessed. And now here he was, still as fucking stone, getting a little lightheaded, silent as all hell. He felt like a fucking idiot but honestly, Bakugou just wasn't sure what he was supposed to do. Or say. He hadn't thought any of this out yet… he hadn't thought he'd ever have to. Did he just say that he liked her too? Was it that simple? That didn't feel like enough. Uraraka had fucking saved him. She hadn't meant to, and he never would have admitted that he needed saving… but she had come into his life and crashed through walls he didn't even know were there and reached out. And all she ever asked for in return was friendship. He wasn't drowning anymore, and he knew that it was thanks to her so… was: "I like you too" even enough?

She took one last step toward him and broke him from his internal dilemma with an index finger to the chest, "Earth to Bakugou Katsuki," She murmured, poking him again, "I'm really not sure what I'm supposed to make of this silence…"

Bakugou swallowed hard, "I…"

Like you too.

He shook his head, finally regaining some sense. This wasn't how this was supposed to go. There were questions that needed to be answered, there were things that needed to be said; he had to tell her about the nightmares. He had to tell her about the guilt and the fear and all that pathetic shit he never wanted to say out loud. He wanted to tell someone—no, that wasn't entirely right. He wanted to tell her because he felt like himself again and it was because of Uraraka Ochako. It was thanks to her.

Bakugou sighed, one thing at a time.

First things first: the questions.

"What about Deku, Uraraka?" Her eyes widened at the sudden seriousness of his voice.

"I already told you," She said, a small pout puffing out her lips and furrowing her brow, "My confession has nothing to do with Izuku…"

He blinked as an unsettling feeling pooled in his gut. Izuku. Bakugou wracked his brain but couldn't think of a single moment when she'd called that mop by his first name. It was always Deku, Deku, Deku. The insult that Uraraka had helped turn into some badge of honor. Deku. Not Izuku.

Bakugou narrowed his gaze and stared into the wide, chestnut eyes before him. Before he could open his mouth to say a word, she sighed, and her expression changed to something foreign to that round face but gut-wrenchingly familiar all the same.

She moved faster than he could react. In a flash she reached behind her back and, in the same moment, stabbed something sharp into the side of his neck.

"I was wondering when I'd get to use this blood!" A shrill giggle surged from Uraraka's throat, but the voice didn't belong to her, and she turned to the mirror on his wall to inspect her own face, "Woowww, she's even cuter than I remember, this is great!"

Bakugou felt his blood run cold but it was too late. He couldn't feel his hands, his quirk was out of his reach, and a twist of rage and dread wound itself tight in his chest. His legs gave out under his weight and he crumbled to the floor as Uraraka turned around with a large, toothy grin, twirling the empty syringe in her hands.

"I've been holdin' onto it for forever! I knew it would come in handy somehow. Really wanted to use it on my dear Izuku but this was just too delicious to pass up… little Ochako sure is popular, huh?" She knelt down to the floor and cupped her cheeks in her hands, "Better sleep now and get plenty of rest, Katsuki… I know everyone is dying to see you!"

Her voice was drowned out by the deafening sound of his own heartbeat in his ears. Bakugou kept searching for his voice—a scream, a roar, a cry—anything to stop this before it all came rushing back. That bar. Those fuckers with their offers and accusations. The shame. The guilt. The fear. But his vision was going dark and no matter how hard he struggled, his body wouldn't listen, and his voice wouldn't break free. Then everything was quiet and dark save the last thought that echoed through his head:

Fuck.