cross-posted on A03 under my pen name, Espercat.

Katsuki is good at everything he puts his mind to. Everyone knows this, and even more than keeping up the appearance for the extras whose opinion he could give less of a shit about, he does it for himself. Because somewhere along in his adolescent All Might-adoring mind, the thought that a hero should be able to do anything wormed itself into the seams of his brain and took permanent residence.

So, yeah. Even though all those extracurricular activities his parents forced him through leading up to his acceptance at U.A. were with the intention to help him "focus" his "energy", Katsuki decided he wasn't gonna do any of it by halves, because even if he didn't get to choose these pursuits, it just seemed like the thing a hero would do.

Baseball? Knocked it out of the park (along with accidentally exploding much equipment along the way). Ameteur wrestling? This one didn't end up being a great idea for apparent reasons, but obviously he cleaned house. Sculpture, drum, and watercolor painting lessons, fashion design theory? He actually found the act of painting to be soothing, and learned that no, he did not share his parents' passion for haute couture (but he still aced all of the above anyway, fuckin' nailed 'em all).

Maybe he wasn't inherently perfect at all of these tasks he was set upon, but he studied hard, worked his ass off, and put in the work - just like any aspiring hero ought to. He'd easily find himself within the top tier of whatever group of chumps had the misfortune to compete with him.

As narrowed ruby slits currently survey the glossy floor before them, watching as spinning wheels expertly cut through the neon lights reflected on its surface like butter, Katsuki was really wishing roller skating had been one of those imposed parental whims.

The blonde has tucked himself away in a darkened corner of the roller rink, as far from the jubilation as he could possibly get without straight up leaving; arms are splayed along the handrail he was leaning against, white-knuckle grip discreetly clutching it from behind. Confident no one is looking his way, Katsuki takes an experimental step forward, cursing under his breath as he feels the floor give way underneath him. He immediately straightens his body back up, the tendons from forearm to tricep tensing in alarm.

Who the fuck chooses to do this shit when they can just walk, he seethes inwardly.

That's kind of a downside to being seemingly good at everything; when you're not, it's a little difficult to cope with that fact - near impossible doing so in front of other people. The difference between when young Katsuki had run the gauntlet of learning new skill after new skill and this was that he and the other kids had all started on the same playing field - none of those twerps had any more experience than he did before going into each class.

But apparently just about every other fuckwad in 3-A had been roller skating since they popped squalling out of their mother, he notes petulantly, scanning the room as subtly as possible from underneath shaggy bangs.

Ponytail and Glasses are doing small, intimately slow circles around one another (never mind the music playing overhead is an upbeat disco pop) as they're deeply engaged in no doubt the nerdiest conversation known to man.

Birdbrain is watching in awe as Froggy does these weird hop/jump tricks as she skates circles around him, and the palms of Katsuki's hands get itchy with nerves when he imagines trying to replicate her acrobatic moves.

He feels some sort of vindication when his eyes sweep over to a diagonal corner where Deku seems to be faring no better than himself. The green-haired boy's knees, not nearly as knobby as Katsuki once remembered, are knocking together awkwardly from underneath the hem of his khaki shorts as his skates roll away from each other at opposite angles.

But whatever self-righteous feeling that may have sparked in Katsuki's gut fizzles quick, an ember snuffed out by a gust of wind, when his gaze travels up to the ear-splitting grin Deku wears stretched across his face despite his obvious ineptitude in the task at hand. Deku's shaky hands reach out in front of him, scarred fingers clambering for the steadying grip of Icy Hot and that grin of his glows even brighter when their hands grasp together.

Katsuki tears his eyes away at the scene, somehow feeling intrusive.

Eventually his eyes land on a particularly glaring spot of neon green on the lacquered wooden floor and he fixedly keeps them there, hoping his steadily deepening scowl wards off any potential conversationalists.

On the brightside, it's not particularly off for Katsuki to be sulking by his lonesome at a social event, especially one that he was mandated to attend by Aizawa, whose perpetually unimpressed countenance was framed by the tendrils of his scarf waving threateningly about him as he did so.

But behind the unyielding shards of onyx, there was something almost...soft, an empathy of sorts, as his longtime teacher glowered down at him.

"In a much shorter time than you'd like to think about, Bakugo, you're going to be forced into public, social situations far less tolerable than simply hanging out with your UA peers. You might as well start getting used to being thrust into those settings by acclimating with people who will actually...somewhat, respect your personal boundaries."

Aizawa's words floated about the corners of his mind like dust mites he couldn't quite sweep away; though they spread sparks of irritation wherever they touched, Katsuki wasn't an idiot and knew them to ring true.

None of that meant he had to pretend he enjoyed constantly feeling like he was going to fall straight onto his ass in front of the whole damn class, however.

"Bakubrooo!"

The blonde's lips impossibly curl ever more downward, though he's unsurprised his sour visage isn't scaring away the bulky redhead sauntering over to him.

"Whaddya doin' holed up over in the shadows for? I would've figured you'd at least love to take any opportunity to upstage everyone, even if this kinda thing isn't your jam." Eijirou flashes his signature shark-toothed grin as he sidles right next to Katsuki, thankfully looking out over the expanse of the floor rather than at Katsuki himself.

Katsuki had the sense it wouldn't take much for his closest friend to figure out why he was really sequestered by his lonesome, especially since Eijirou's declaration was right on the nose. He grunts noncommittally as a response, not looking to give his friend any ammo, and luckily the rockhead doesn't further pursue that thread of questioning as he becomes enraptured by something - or someone - out on the rink.

Only slightly curious, Bakugo follows Eijirou's line of vision and finds his stone-cold grip on the railing grow weaker, his ever-tightened jaw becoming a little slack.

Front and center of the whole rink are two figures orbiting around each other like bright stars, megawatt grins lighting up their faces as brilliant as the rotating spotlights illuminating them intermittently from overhead. A small crowd has gathered about the duo, claps and hoots egging on their good-spirited spectacle.

"Watch this, watch this, Mina!" One of the figures calls out to the other, and Katsuki looks on as Uraraka taps each of her skates with all five fingers and sets off in a hyper-speed spin that reminds him of one of those amusement park rides with the tagline, "Try not to puke!"

When she finally slows to a less freakish speed, Raccoon-Eyes lets out a raucous screech while skating up to the brunette, grabbing at one of her hands to finish Uraraka's little quirked-out trick by spinning her one last time in a sweeping, romantic flourish. Still clasping hands, for a bit longer they continue to spin and spin about each other, the brown of Mina's bell-bottomed jumpsuit, pink of her skin, and Uraraka's white tie-front tank and high-waisted tan shorts all churning together in a vision reminiscent of neapolitan ice cream.

The song overhead fittingly comes to an end as they wind down, and something even funkier starts up, the deep boom-booming of the bass reverberating through Katsuki's teeth. The girls' crowd has mostly dispersed but that doesn't put a damper on their energy as they resume their dancing together - Pinky arguably the more skilled of the pair as she effortlessly pirouettes on one skate without the aid of any quirk.

And yet that's not where Katsuki finds his eyes helplessly trailing to.

There's a fleeting thought in the back of his stupored mind, that this unassuming little roller rink must have a damn good DJ employed (maybe it was even some Extra's quirk?), for the multicolored strobes leaping across the glistening surface of Uraraka's skin were timed perfectly to the beat of the song sinking through his ears, rushing into his veins.

She's laughing, with all of her gut like she has that tendency to do (don't ask him why he knows that), no doubt at some move Alien Chick was showboating, but he couldn't give less of a shit about whatever Pinky might be doing at the moment. He's too enthralled watching the starbursts of oranges touch the edges of Uraraka's wide smile, the greens land on the silken strands of her hair like exotic birds only to skitter away after seconds, the pinks glittering across her fingers like rings. All along her shimmying body the lights flicker, climbing up bare calves, a caress along her hips, up to the tips of her eyelashes where -

where…

oh, shit.

Her mirthful gaze was turned on him now, his palms are so damn sweaty what the fuck, his fingers are scrabbling to keep purchase on his precious handrails as stupidly giant chocolate orbs blink at him because obviously she caught him staring like some weirdo fuck he was gonna fall right in front of her -

A sharp whistle shoots straight through the explosions bursting all the cells in his brain. Katsuki whips his head and sees Eijirou subtly reach out behind the railing, strong grip locking hold of his bicep, giving the blonde just enough time to stabilize and readjust his own hold before he makes an utter fool of himself (if he hadn't already).

"Finally see something interesting?" One of those stubby little brows of Eijirou's is perched high over a ruby gaze just fucking full to the brim with glee, at his expense, and Katsuki is only now realizing the redhead is decked out in a brown jumpsuit identical to Racoon-Eyes'. The expanse of it is punctuated by glittery, silver stars of various sizes.

"You look fucking stupid," Katsuki retorts while jutting out his bottom lip and pointedly turning his head away. Eijirou only guffaws in response.

Thank fuck Round Face isn't looking their way anymore, but now the Alien is, waving enthusiastically and hopping from one skate to another.

"Eijiiii! Come dance with me, babes! Ochamochalatte's gonna take a min to refresh."

"You gonna be okay on your own, Bakubro?" Eijirou whispers while waving back, a hint of laughter lacing through his voice. Katsuki feels his hackles rankle at the thinly veiled insinuation, but Eijirou pats a shoulder as he starts to stride towards Mina, leaving an "I got you, don't worry!" in his wake.

Katsuki leers at Eijirou as he and Pinky share energetic double high-fives. He digests Eijirou's parting words, wondering if he should be worried. Because what the fuck did that mean, he "had" Katsuki?

Whorls of honey-dipped chocolate flash through Katsuki's mind, a gaze that never fails to leave him off-kilter or feeling vulnerable. Uraraka had definitely caught him staring. Okay. And then, Eijirou had thrown him a very obvious lifeline as he struggled to keep himself on his feet meaning-

Hair-For-Brains had obviously figured out Katsuki couldn't skate, and was helping him save face in front of Urara - everyone. Not just Uraraka. It's not like he would be especially pissed if she knew he sucked at skating, or anything. What the fuck did it matter anyway if he couldn't propel himself on eight goddamn wheels without falling over, it wasn't like he was ever gonna go on an undercover mission at a roller rink, or encounter an eccentric villain who challenged him to a skate off or -

Though, he stops himself with a realization, far weirder shit has happened in his short time as a provisional hero, and even more so beforehand! Were those scenarios really all that farfetched?

The blonde resists the overwhelming impulse to smack himself in the face, annoyed at his own trainwreck of thoughts. The "Bakusquad" must've collectively had some kind of idiocy parasite that he contracted and was turning his brain to porridge.

Speaking of Bakusquad, Katsuki is distracted from his disturbingly stupid introspections at the sound of a very distinctive cackling. He looks up, gaze sweeping suspiciously across his fellow 3-A classmates, looking for that telltale flash of pink skin anywhere within the crowd. He frowns a little when he notes Ashido, Ei, and Uraraka were all seemingly absent from the floor, but then he remembers Uraraka had apparently gone off to the restroom or whatever.

"I got you!"

Katsuki tries to shake the unease bubbling in his gut, opting in a rare occasion to wholly put his trust in someone else (not that he had much choice regardless, physically stuck as he was). Even Eijirou couldn't have been meatheaded enough to immediately go blab to the biggest blabber in 3-A, next to Invisichick, and think he was doing Katsuki a favor?

Nah, if anything, the two probably just went off to suck face or something. They weren't publicly dating but Katsuki had had the unfortunate luck of catching them pawing at each other like horny rabbits in too many places to name around U.A. by now. Much like Katsuki faithfully kept their secret from nosy gossips (in no small part due to the fact it wasn't any of his own damn business until Eijirou himself decided to open up to him about it), he was sure Eijirou would respect Katsuki's obvious desire to keep his skating skills - or lack thereof - under wraps.

Yeah. Fuck yeah. He knew he had picked a damn good best friend, Katsuki thinks, relaxing a bit into his spot and impatiently watching the seconds hand roll around his designer watch.

Holy fucking shit he was going to kill Shitty-Hair! It couldn't take too much effort to get a new best friend, right? Hell, he'd gone most of his life without one, he was sure he could get right back to it if it meant not having to deal with this bull!

"Soo," he hears from the brunette head now perched shoulder-level at his side. "You've probably figured this out already, but Kiri and Mina ambushed me."

Katsuki feels a vein at his temple violently rupture.

"Kiri said you were havin' a real rough go of it over here, but cha didn't want any help from him?" She peeks up at him from the edge of her cute, blinking eyes - no, don't get distracted Lord Explosion Murder. Just get her the hell away as quickly as possible.

"That's fuckin' neat, Cheeks. See ya." There, perfect. Short and brusque and leaves no room for follow-up.

She stifles a giggle behind padded fingers, but maddeningly stays put.

"Weeeell, Mina suggested - and I totally agreed, it sounds fun! - that I could-"

"I don't want or need any help, Round Face, so just go piss off and leave me alone. Shitty-Hair doesn't know what he's talking about, I'm havin' a blast over here." The blonde hisses out, finally looking down at her. He's met with one chocolate brow perched over a flat, disbelieving stare.

"Was that a pun, Bakugo?" She asks, and before he can sputter out the expletives sitting hot and ready on the tip of his tongue, she interrupts him with a loud, bright laugh, arms wrapped about her belly as she pushes herself off the railing and skates around to face him.

"See, I knew this would be fun!"

Katsuki rolls his eyes and sucks at his teeth, wishing whatever deity was deciding to torture him today a slow, blistering death. Or just Shitty-Hair and Pinky, they would do.

"Look Bakugo, everyone feels nervous, or embarrassed when they're trying something new for the first time!"

He can't help his mind from shooting back to Deku and his dumb-ass smile as he wobbled like a newborn babe, and a streak of jealousy shoots through him, ugly, but Katsuki manages to shove it down. He was better than that now. Getting better, at least. Trying.

"It's a natural feeling for anyone, even me-"

"Sounds like a crock of bull." He cuts her off once again. The look on her face wars with confusion as she blinks up at him, and maybe something like excitement in the little half grin she can't hide. Like she was happy he was engaging with her.

Fuckin' weirdo.

"H-huh?"

"I meant the part about you. I don't see you gettin' scared, or embarrassed. I just see your determination. You're fucking fearless...and shit. And round."

They both still, his words sitting heavy and foreign between them. Katsuki's pretty sure another fifty of his blood vessels burst as an upward avalanche of blood rushes straight to his head because what? What in the ever loving fuck possessed him to say that sappy shit out loud?! Yeah he could just go ahead and die in a fire too, thank you very much.

Uraraka sets a record for the amount of faces made in under ten seconds as Katsuki rigidly waits for her response, and he tries and fails to not gawk at the evolution of said looks flitting across her features. Her eyes are somehow even larger than normal, brows raised practically to her hairline, before they shoot back down in a half furrow and her whole face scrunches as she seemingly floats between whether she's gonna burst out laughing or crying. After an uncomfortable amount of time not saying anything, the little "o" of her pink lips snap shut, and a fierce resolve settles over her that twists at his heart annoyingly.

"Alright, that settles it!" she suddenly grabs at his wrist, and the slick of his sweat betrays him as his hands slide off the railing with little resistance as she pulls him along. Katsuki flails his feet back and forward with a guttural growl, before he realizes he's not losing his balance at all. Because his feet weren't even touching the ground any longer, Uraraka having activated her quirk on him to make him float nigh imperceptibly to anyone other than the two of them.

"Oi you psycho, I'm not your damn balloon! Where are you taking me?!"

The space case giggles at him again, and goddamn did she laugh at him a lot it was so cu- annoying, it was so annoying!

"Oh, so the person who owns this rink is Momo's second cousin removed who's married to the biological nephew of her adopted great aunt-"

"What the fuck?!" Katsuki yelps out, both at their near-collision when she suddenly stops them near a turnstile towards the back of the rink, and the ridiculous string of words that just spewed from her mouth.

"I know! Kinda scandalous, right? Anyway," still holding onto his wrist like his arm was the tail-end of an oversized Hero Parade float, she fishes something out of a pocket with her other hand.

It's a nondescript-looking keycard of some sort, and when Katsuki throws Uraraka a questioning glare she looks just like the cat that got the canary.

"The point is, Momo has connections, and she gave me this!"

"And what the hell is that?" He asks while looking sidelong out at the rink's expanse. Illuminated by the flashes of purple and white strobes combing over the planes of her face, he momentarily catches Ponytail's dark gaze before she quickly drops it, turning her head back to the group of other nerds circling her.

Katsuki narrows his eyes in suspicion.

"It's our exclusive access to a private roller room! It's normally reserved for parties and stuff, but it happens to be available today. Which means it's Bakugo's lucky day, 'cause you're gonna get one-on-one lessons with the best skater here!" The brunette sing-songs as she beams up at him, flashing a peace sign next to her bubbled-out, cheeky grin.

He opens his mouth to say something, honestly doesn't even fucking know what (a protest at her absurd idea would be smart, yet he feels he can't bring himself to), he just knows that the longer he stares at that round face smiling up at him as she's bathed in the glittering lights, the more he feels the urge for...for something to happen-

Perhaps whatever deities were taking their sick pleasure at his expense today had a brief flash of pity, for while Katsuki was teetering on the precipice of fighting against this impulse he didn't know how to resolve, Kirishima and Mina choose this moment to zoom by the pair, leaving a peach-perfumed gust of wind in their wake. Katsuki and Uraraka turn and see a hardened Kirishima spinning in a slow circle as his momentum slowly propels him onward, but more impressive is the sight of Mina being held up by her torso like an olympic skater in just one of his raised hands, the both of them throwing thumbs' ups in their departure as they skate away.

"...okay, maybe second or third best skater," he hears Uraraka mumble with just an edge of pout, and Katsuki simply stares deadpan after his friends.

Normally Katsuki prefers the calm that a quiet atmosphere brings. That may be a surprising tidbit to those who don't really know him, but he feels most at ease when there's less outside bullshit to drown out. But though the speakers set high into each corner were emitting a pulsating tune full of bass, there was a part of him longing for the hustle and bustle of his classmates, a part of him that felt disconcerted by the absence of sounds in this room, otherwise. Maybe because there was nothing else to hide the thump thumping staccato of his heartbeat, felt as vibrations through his clenched teeth, as the nerves worked their way through his body.

He slumped against this newly-claimed railing, chin tucked to chest moodily, watching Uraraka flit around the smaller rink that was no more than half the size of the one the rest of class 3-A was occupying. It has a much more sophisticated decor, the simple wood flooring replaced by a shiny black-and-white checkered boarding. Gone were the garishly bright shapes that lined the larger room's walls; in their stead was a backdrop of sleek black, accentuated by subtle pops of silvers and whites that looked like little bursts of star clusters and constellations.

The walls on each shorter side of the room housed long mirrors that he used to subtly watch Uraraka's reflection as struck with awe, she pitter-pattered about as much as one could while wearing roller skates. Katsuki knew - er, everyone knew that Uraraka loved space shit, further evidenced by the delighted gasps the decor was eliciting from her as she took her sweet time taking it all in.

It was fuckin' cu- alarm bells blare wildly in his head - it was annoying. Kinda annoying, at least. The round-faced audacity to drag him in here and then proceed to ignore him!

Compared to the prior rink, there's only one strobe going in this room, a soft white beam that drifts about the space rather delicately. When it touches upon her face as she finally turns towards him, he finds his ire snuffing out pitifully.

"Ahaha, sorry about that Bakugo, I guess I spaced out there!" she chimes out, hand scratching at the back of her head. "I certainly wasn't trying to test your patience - I guess I just got overwhelmed by how cool this rink is! To tell you the truth, this whole place is nothing like where I used to go skating when I was a kid. Well, that's 'cause it was just my elementary school's gym that the faculty set up as a roller rink every Friday with free entry for the students-"

Katsuki starts as Uraraka suddenly stops herself mid-ramble, an odd look falling over her features; brows draw inward, pinched nose wrinkles at the bridge. For a brief moment full of lunacy, he wonders if there really is some kind of roller skating villain that's invading her telepathically, but then the brunette lets out the tiniest, mouse-like sneeze he's ever heard and he allows himself to banish the thought. Two more proceed to fly from her mouth, and during the third she crumples inward, hands grabbing at her bare arms and beginning to rub furiously.

Ah, shit. Katsuki guesses the building used a central AC system, so despite the fact there weren't a bunch of bodies heating up this room, it was still chugging along. And running as warm as he did, he hadn't really noticed the steep temperature drop, as his sweat glands weren't truly affected until it started hitting consistent winter cold front temps.

When she peeks up at him again it's with a look full of such brazen pouting that he's reminded of the tiny, pink-cheeked white rabbit his fifth grade class took turns taking care of. When it stared at Katsuki with its giant, expressive eyes, he always found himself succumbing to some soft, stupid impulse, sneaking the rabbit extra treats when no one was looking. Eventually his irritation at himself would always be soothed, albeit reluctantly, by the happy nose twitches it gave him in thanks.

He feels a similar sort of impulse welling up within him again, making him feel weirdly like his chest was filled with something suffocating and gauze-like, as she continues to rub friction along her bare arms. His fingers suddenly twitch with the want of reaching out, batting her hands away, and doing the damn job himself, but even Katsuki knows that is way overstepping his boundaries.

As he stands there grappling with his dumb instincts, a song with a slower beat starts up that Katsuki can barely pay attention to over the exaggerated sound of her teeth chattering. He picks agitatedly at a loose thread on his U.A. sweatshirt, huffing under his breath.

Before he can talk himself out of it, there's a quick, sharp unzipping sound and Uraraka doesn't even have time to blink before a black mass of fabric is flying through the air and straight into her face. Once she's pulled it off her field of vision, Katsuki has already sulkily turned his head away from her, silently hoping the dusting of red he could feel along the bridge of his nose was hidden in the room's low lighting.

"T-thank you, Bakugo," the brunette says while enveloping herself in the warm, oversized fleece of his hoodie. Bakugo's hoodie. Truly, today was unfolding in ways she never could have expected.

"Tch, whatever. Don't want your nerd friends to hang lettin' you catch a cold over my head, even though you're the one who took me hostage. Besides, how the hell're you gonna teach me jack shit if all you're doing is looking like a cold-ass koala while hugging onto yourself or somethin'?" Katsuki snaps in response, though it lacks any of his usual heat.

Uraraka giggles, hiding her ensuing smile behind a drooping sleeve. "Oh? You're free to leave any time you'd like, Bakugo. I couldn't hold you hostage even if I tried."

The blonde bites at his tongue, stifling the disagreement before he can let it loose. He hates her self-deprecating crap, especially given the reality that she had, in fact, physically brought him here against his will without seemingly a second thought or ounce of effort. Instead, he cocks a brow and points down to the skates firmly planted on the ground as if to say, "How the fuck am I gonna go anywhere?".

She merely shrugs, retreating deeper into his hoodie. "You're perfectly capable of taking off the skates, you know. I won't tell anyone, if you just want to hang out back here until we head back to the campus."

"No." He finds the word ripping from his throat almost violently, surprising the both of them. "I ain't a quitter," he hastily follows up, and Uraraka's look of confusion quickly changes to something that sends fizzes of irritation up his spine in its proximity to smugness.

One of the too-large sleeves slips down the length of her arm as she shuffles closer to him, leaning forward and pressing an index finger to a buoyant cheek. "Oho, I had no idea you'd be so excited about being under my tutelage," his brow twitches dangerously, a warning sign, as she looks him up and down with mock appraisal, "Who knew the Great Explosion Murder God Dynamight was so interested in roller skating!"

The Katsuki of the past - like, a year or two ago - would have started feeling the beginning of sparks dancing in his palms in the face of such blatant teasing, and maybe they were perhaps a bit itchy now, but he had it under control. He was cool. Better. He'll just conveniently forget the mini-blast he'd lodged into Sparky's face this morning, after the dunce admitted to accidentally eating Katsuki's overnight oats. His restraint now couldn't have had anything to do with the fact it was Uraraka, and how she looked standing before him, swamped by his sweatshirt. That was nonsensical.

Instead, he finds himself shouting into her face (very loudly), "I don't give a flying fuck about roller skating! I just want to prove to you that I can do it!"

There's a beat of silence, punctuated only by his labored breathing and the 70's love song now crooning down at them from the speakers. Then she's giggling and smiling widely at him like he didn't probably just spray her with his yelling-spittle, as he stands there dumbstruck and reeling.

He somehow feels like he had just dredged up a deeply-buried secret and presented it to her, tar-covered and beating like a heart, in his outstretched hands. It's too late to shove it back into the murky recesses of his psyche, however, and Uraraka's big, brown eyes simply twinkle up at him like this information flattered, but didn't surprise her.

Briefly his mind conjures the scene of a classroom, soaked in spring sunlight, those very same doe eyes staring up at him but all the glitter hardened into something more piercing, as she gutsily rips open his insecurities about Deku like they were a cheap bag of potato chips.

"Arrgh, fuck - fuck!"

All at once Katsuki finds the exclamation tearing from his lips, his hands flying upwards to grip at shaggy blonde spikes in a habitual, mindless show of frustration. Now without his lifeline of holding onto the railing, he precariously teeters back and forth, whatever complaint he may have been about to lodge about her ability to read him so pathetically easily vanishes from his mind.

Uraraka moves to catch hold of him, and as her small fingers entwine with his own, the world around him stops suddenly spinning like a sickening festival ride. She gives him a moment to collect himself, supporting his flagging weight with ease before he straightens himself up. The inside of Katsuki's chest still burns fiercely, like hot coals - stoked by a mix of anxiety, embarrassment, something else yet to be faced - and he doesn't blame her for the feeling he gets of being handled like a feral animal.

Despite that, the gravity hero starts to lead the both of them through a slow, meandering route about the rink while she skates backwards, and though Katsuki feels considerably calmer after not too long of being shepherded, the longer she holds his hands the more intensely he feels his sweat pumping from his glands.

If she noticed (which, of course she fuckin' did; his skin was slicker than Mineta thinks he is), she opted to politely ignore it, instead switching to teaching mode and instructing him to take note especially of how her knees are just slightly bent apart, and the way she shifts her weight from each of her sets of back heels while the front two diagonally pivot to control her direction as she pulls him gently along.

They continue on like this for a while longer, his nervous energy and sweating palms slowly forgotten as he studies the physical movements she makes with her feet, her hips. Though she's still very Uraraka about the whole affair, all cheeky smiles and lilting encouragement, he can tell she's giving her tips and criticism seriously and thus he repays her by being just as attentive of a student as he's always been.

"You know, Bakugo, I'm not surprised at how quickly you're picking up the technical aspects of this. And with your quirk, you should be able to propel yourself all over with your crazy momentum and really show everyone how cool you can be!"

The tips of ears burn pink, and while he's been no stranger to receiving compliments throughout his life, for this first time he doesn't have a smartass remark to follow up with. She saves him from having to come up with a retort.

"So I guess I was surprised to begin with when Kirimina - that's what I call them collectively, by the way - suggested you could use some help." (He takes a small comfort in the fact it's apparently not just him that she sees through.)

He feels one of her finger pads graze the top of his hand and their eyes meet for the briefest of moments, the melting chocolate of her gaze alluringly inviting and yet simultaneously repelling for its very same capability.

"Yeah well, jus' never done it…" He turns his head and mumbles unthinkingly, unsure if he's trying to distract her from the blush creeping along his skin like a plague, or if it's to try and drown out the whirlwind of feelings raging in his skull.

She hums with understanding. "You didn't give yourself the opportunity to try and do well because at least for the first little while, it's only natural if you don't get it perfectly right, and that feels like failing to you. Something that's not acceptable for you to do in front of other people."

He wants to rankle at the accusation, but, it's so fucking dead-on he definitely can't argue against it, and further she's still brushing that finger back and forth, back and forth, over the skin of his hand and it's elicitng such a distractingly dizzy electricity in its wake.

He does notice, however, that they've picked up a bit of speed, the passing scenery starting to blur in the peripheral of his vision in swirls of blacks and silver and soft, shifting light as he brings his eyes back to focus entirely on the girl in front of him, because he can't help but wonder what kind of face she's wearing while opening him up once again.

But it's not the face of the girl in their classroom who brazenly called him out on his shit those years ago. Instead she's looking back at him with a docile understanding that lights up those big orbs, and it gently soothes the anxiety that had been festering in his gut all day.

His skates glide smoothly along the glossy floor, the percussion of the drums sounding from the speakers overhead beats in time to the stutters of his heart. He feels he could spend the rest of time here, floating along, holding the hands and falling into the eyes of this audacious small girl while letting the rest of the world whizz by.

"Earlier you said it was, ah, not true that I get embarrassed easily." She speaks into the trance-like silence. He averts his gaze once again, losing track of just how long he'd been staring at her, wondering why she didn't seem bothered by it.

Katsuki merely grunts, getting the sense it wasn't necessary for him to respond at this moment.

"I still do," she continues in a soft voice, "but it's easier than it used to be not to project it. Before U.A., I was actually somewhat made fun of. I was poorer than most of the rest of my class, and I always felt kinda off-kilter due to that and not feeling 'on the same level' as everyone else. I would try to keep up with them, gossiping about current pop culture or follow them to the local arcade after school, while my parents were at work. But because I didn't get any spending money like them, even when I did get to try a game I didn't have the same experience with it as they did, and I always did poorly. And you know, kids will be kids, so there was some teasing for my awkwardness."

A fire blooms in his gut then, an anger thinking about those shitty twerps making sweet Uraraka feel like that, but he can't help but bite his tongue because obnoxiously bright emerald eyes cut through his mind. Katsuki had been one of those shitty twerps. His hands are shaking a little in hers and he has the unbearable want to apologize - to her, for her, for Deku -

But no, that wasn't right; it was actually she who was giving off the smallest of tremors, belying the quiet confidence in her voice as she shared her vulnerability with him. Offered him a secret, beating like a heart in the palms of outstretched hands.

And even Katsuki knows that all he should do in this moment is accept it with reverence, and continue to keep his mouth shut.

She takes in a deep, steadying inhale before continuing. "I can't say it never hurt, because of course it did. But one day, when I shared my hurt with my ma and pa, they told me that folks like that have fun laughing at people more than with people. So, the next few times I felt like I had done or said something embarrassing, I laughed at myself too. And it was true, the kids didn't find that as entertaining and eventually they mostly let me be, which helped let me stop caring what I looked like in front of them. I guess I did become fearless in my own way, by being able to laugh when otherwise I might cry."

Her sentence tapers off with an exhalation of air, like it had taken something out of her to relive her story, and as she sighs the featherlight interlacing of her fingers now becomes more of a determined grip, palm to palm, and Uraraka suddenly pulls him in close. She locks her gaze with him; a glistening, hardened chocolate, and this time Katsuki meets her head-on and doesn't look away.

"But despite what I may have gone through in the past, U.A. is special." Her voice, though still soft in volume, rings out to him over the music that continued to play, heedless to the scene below. "We're a family and no one thinks less of anyone else for not appearing perfect. Even someone everyone really, really looks up to - like you. I want you to trust us."

A moment of pause, a flicker of hesitancy in her gaze before she brings them yet even closer together, so close his hitched breaths are displacing the tufts of bangs in the middle of her forehead. He stares down at her and gulps, once, twice, shocked at how dry his throat has become and yet simultaneously he feels...feels...

Kinda fuckin' alive, really. Not having the slightest clue as to what the girl in front of him was going to do or say next filled him with the same exhilaration he felt facing her back at their first Sports Festival.

"Can you trust me, Bakugo?" She asks while starting to curve their skating route sharply towards a singular direction, the first break in their easy, carefree path.

It's a simple enough question, and yet there's an undeniable enormity to it; he feels as if she's leveraging a meteor shower over his head once again, where the slightest misstep on his part means utter defeat.

Uraraka barely waits for him to finally croak out his "Yes", and then without warning she's letting go of his hands and pushing off from him. Before he knows it, the distance between them is gradually widening as they skate further and further apart from each other.

"You're ready for this!" She shouts out in encouragement.

Katsuki, thankfully for his own sanity, does not freak the fuck out. He probably still looked pathetic to her as he slowly meandered forward, hunched over and pivoting his skates at angles too quick and erratic to properly change his course.

But he was doing it. He was skating on his own. Because he trusted her.

Uraraka continues to cheer and shout reminders of her recently bequeathed tips, urging him on to try and catch her as he moves towards her. But even though she's still going backwards, the way she's shifting her hips gives her enough momentum to keep her distance from his maddeningly plodding, inexperienced pace. He knows if he could just straighten up and bend his knees instead of his whole body, he could more easily push off with one of his legs and start to get going but his limbs feel unnaturally stiff with the remnant of a tension he just can't quite misplace.

"Come on Dynamite, where's the heat?!" She jeers in a good-natured tone, cupping her hands around a wide grin.

Suddenly, Katsuki thinks back to her saying how cool he'd look if he used his quirk to skate, so with a smirk full of more confidence than he'd felt all damn day and no thoughts at all towards the potential consequences, he thrusts his hands out behind himself, palms out, and fires off two medium-sized explosions.

The fiery, 'popping' sounds reverberate off the walls and drown out the din of music, blanketing over the peals of her shocked laughter.

In no time at all the distance between the two is obliterated, and just before Katsuki's about to crash head-on with her, he throws his hands forward and grabs onto her wrists, much like she had done to him earlier in the day.

She lets out a breathy little, "Oh!" of surprise before he whisks her away on his path of chaos. Uraraka manages to disengage one of her hands from his grasp, falling in step at his side as his momentum hurtles them onwards.

"How's this for heat, Cheeks!?" He barks out, to which she gleefully laughs in response. As they begin to rapidly approach one of the mirrored walls in front of them, Katsuki catches in the reflection an almost-manic grin stretched across the brunette's features that'd give the Copycat bitch a run for his money any day.

Just before a tragic collision, the pair seem to have an idea come to them at the same time: utilizing the excess of sweat he'd excreted in Uraraka's presence, Katsuki blasts out a mini-explosion, leveraged at a slight angle against the ground, and simultaneously she reaches her free hand out to touch all five fingerpads against the bare skin of his arm. Though the force of the blast was considered modest by his standards, combined with the loss of gravity she imparted on them, the two end up jerkily ricocheting backwards to about the midway point of the room, before Uraraka yells out a "Release!" in between hollering and howling with laughter.

They land on their skates, he rather ungainly and she like a celestial being falling from heaven, and Katsuki takes a wobbly moment to regain his balance - a hot streak of pride shooting through him when he does manage to stay upright.

"Oh Momo's gonna be just a lil' peeved when she sees that," Uraraka giggles between huffs of breath, pointing to the very obvious scorch mark he had left when blasting them off.

"Tch, worth it." He says, smirking.

Uraraka orbits slowly around him, having been freed from the blonde's grasp at some point during the tumult, and gestures dismissively, "Ehh, I'm sure the cost of having it fixed is like a drop in the bucket to her family anyway. So!" The brunette stops her course in front of him with a dramatic clap, and fixes him with a sly look.

"So, what, Space Case?" Katsuki ventures, finding himself slowly skating backwards away from the predatory gleam in her eyes. Which, fuckin' hell yeah he was already skating backwards now - he was the shit. And he may have had a pretty damned good teacher, he supposes.

But said teacher may also be just a little secretly crazy - more chaotic than himself, if it can be believed - he thinks, as she closes the gap between them and reaches out with wiggling, padded fingers.

"So this next time, I think you should swing one of your skates in front of the other to turn, right before you blast us off-" As she talks, Uraraka suddenly slides behind him and settles her body against his back as if she were a backpack, wrapping her legs about his waist and draping her arms loosely about either shoulder.

"Th' hell are you do-"

"And I'll activate my quirk again to make us weightless so we float up and control when we come back down!" She finishes in a scarily cheery tone, pointing forward and perched on him as if he was some kind of damn racehorse or something.

Katsuki simply stands there, incredulity swimming through every cell in his body, and he's not sure if the wave of heat he feels traveling up his neck is a response to the warmth of her as she envelops him like a squirmy coat, or if he's just irritated that Round Face thinks she can use him any way she pleases.

When he doesn't immediately acquiesce, the gravity nullifier kicks her skates into his hips with a "Hyah!", and yeah okay he is definitely at least a little pissed off now, which unfortunately leads him into doing exactly what she wants: his body's natural reaction can't be helped when being literally prodded so, and with a ragey shout, Katsuki finds himself throwing his hands out once again and unleashing twin explosions from his sweaty palms.

They surge forward for a moment, before Uraraka yells, "Now, Blasty!". Katsuki bites back a snarl about how she's spending too much damn time around Pinky, but quickly pivots his hips and swings his left skate over his right, heel to toe, then lodges another small blast at the polished tile.

They shoot off the ground in a dramatic corkscrew spin, when he feels Uraraka's hand come to rest against his beating heart. That telltale, airy lurch rises in his stomach that signifies her quirk activation, which slows their ascent as they float while continuing to spin. She ends up deactivating her quirk much quicker this time, causing them to crash to the floor not far off from where they had started.

"Whoo! Roller-Moon-Jumping! Again, again!" She hollers, and her excitement is so infectious he doesn't even think about arguing back.

They continue on like this for a good while, and with each jump there's this odd feeling in his gut, like he was a giant, shaken up soda pop and all the disturbed bubbles were fizzing around each
other, about to explode outwards. Whenever she sends them back down to earth, he feels akin to when he's freefalling from the sky after blasting off a building, and the adrenaline crawls up from the bottom of his stomach all the way to his sternum and it's so addictive he can't even remember to be mad that she's been so dang bossy.

He's pretty sure by this point, the private roller rink they were blasting around in looked far more like a minefield. But honestly, Uraraka is whooping and shrieking loudly with laughter right into his ear as she hangs on to his back like some kinda koala-gremlin and goddamn was she so damn ann-

cute. She was just cute.

So ask Katsuki if he gave a fuck.

The last hour of the social outing is eventually announced over the intercom, and Katsuki and Ochako spend the remainder back with the rest of 3-A in the main rink being a generally loud, chaotic menace as they blast themselves all over the place. Mina and Eijirou look on like proud parents and the rest of the Bakusquad acts as personal cheerleaders for the pair. At one point Momo can be seen trying to chase them down before quickly giving up and muttering about how she'll just make a whole new floor. Deku scribbles madly into his notebook, gleefully noting Katsuki and Ochako's quirk compatibility.

In general, however, the majority of the class has dubbed the two "Hell On Wheels", but to Katsuki, the day had ended up feeling pretty damn close to heaven.

Author's notes: Not me, getting into ANOTHER fandom?! (: You gotta go where the inspo takes ya, I guess. This was fun to write, they're cute. They're so gd cute. I'm not sure why it took me so long to cross-post here, but here's to hoping it's new to someone who likes it!