NOT JUST A PRETTY GIRL

CHAPTER ONE: The One Where Uraraka Is Blonde

It was difficult to put into words just how Uraraka felt as she gazed out at the horizon from the comfort of her new apartment. Elbows press down on the cold metal railing whilst weathered palms cup her plush cheeks, her gaze fixed on the spectacular sunrise laid out before her. Moving back to Tokyo gave her a fresh start, an opportunity to start over. But as elated as she was to be back home, it was equally terrifying.

Since being granted the title of Pro Hero five years back, and subsequently rising in the ranks to number 10 on the leader board, it was difficult to feel excited about pretty much anything. Sure, she'd achieved her dream of being able to provide for her family, that was all well and good. But happiness felt somewhat out of reach, leaving her with no real clue how to obtain such a thing. As a teen, she had always assumed it went hand in hand with success, what a foolish assumption that was in hindsight.

A distant chatter fills the thin morning air as she averts her gaze, immediately spotting a small group of photographers scattered across the lawn of her new apartment complex; cameras angled up to her balcony. It was always like this. In fact, it was rather tame compared to the usual scene she saw outside her window. I guess someone leaked that I moved. Probably my old landlord, she muses somewhat irritably.

"Why have you moved back to Tokyo Uravity?"

"Uravity! Give us a smile!"

"Why did you select this apartment complex Uravity?"

"You look so pretty this morning!"

"Aren't you happy to see us Uravity?"

Taking a sharp breath, she jolts upright, an awkward smile slipping across her beautiful features as she waves meekly and slowly backs into the safety of her apartment. Their somewhat aggressive voices echoing through the thin morning air as she tried to calm herself. Like always, privacy was next to non-existent.

They always hollered her hero name like wild animals, desperate to capture their prey. But did they really see her as a hero? Most days it felt as if she was a hero in name only, despite her plethora of impressive achievements. All they really cared about was her appearance and gossip. Sex and drama sells after all. It was hard to not let it weigh on her mind. So she compartmentalised and pushed the thoughts from her mind. Changing the way society viewed and treated all heroines was far too big of a task for her to even consider tackling. What can I do anyway? I'm a hero, not a miracle worker.

"No! Don't be camera shy Uravity!"

"We love you! Come back and give us a better smile!"

"Did you move here to be closer to Gro–"

She slides the door shut, drowning out their voices and locking it behind her. They are just doing their job, Uraraka notes silently, eyes softening as she exhales gently. I chose to do this, she reminds herself, pressing her back up against the glass door and proceeding to slide down the cold surface, her rear brushing against the floorboards soon after. It never took long for them to find her. So it wasn't a shock that they somehow found out that she had relocated despite using her disguise when leaving her former residence in Yokohama.

No matter how hard she tried to push their presence out of her mind, a primary source of her unwavering stress and anxiety was without a doubt them, the media. No matter what, they were always watching. The fear of fracturing their distorted view of her as a flawless ethereal heroine was crippling. Some publications even went as far as to refer to her as the 'Floating Seraph' in headlines alongside crude remarks about her appearance.

She didn't ask for such a title, or for the invisible pedestal they propped her up on, nor did she want it. Sure, for most in her field of work, such attention would be deemed fantastic for promotional purposes. But fame was never a goal, success alone was her focus. In truth, nothing truly panned out the way she expected. She had more money than she could ever need, but very few people to earnestly share her success with. Especially now that her parents had purchased land in the countryside.

The matter of her friendships was a somewhat complicated one. Things with Deku, in particular, weren't the same. After all, how could they be when he had rejected her feelings indirectly in front of their entire friendship circle three years back? Sure, stating that his duty as a hero was his only focus, when asked if he was interested in anyone wasn't exactly a surprise. It made sense, so why did it hurt so much back then?

The embarrassment she felt that evening was so disconcerting she could barely string a sentence together. Overnight, her smile once filled with an unwavering zest for life was tarnished. Thankfully back then the press wasn't fixated on her, so no one took note. It seemed they were all focused on celebrating their new number one and number two heroes Deku & Ground Zero.

Fleeing Tokyo felt natural at that point, it gave her an opportunity to focus on training in a city that was more in need. But in hindsight, perhaps it wasn't the best coping mechanism. The way she had left things with her friends was somewhat uncomfortable. For the most part, they didn't really question her spur of the moment decision and stayed in contact over text; meeting only when summoned for the yearly billboard event. Actively avoiding any to all contact with Deku and Bakugo in the process due to Deku's joint at the hip mentality with the blond.

Sighing heavily, she rises back to her feet, her gaze drifting across the room, eying the plethora of boxes strewn across the floor of her apartment. The last thing she wanted to do was be stuck inside doing something as menial as unpacking for her first day back in her hometown. But it wasn't going to unpack itself, and the frugal woman within her refused to pay someone to do it for her. It was difficult to even recall what box of clothing contained her undergarments and hero costumes at this point. The fact that she had oh so cleverly named all her clothing boxes 'clothing one' through to 'clothing ten,' rather than listing their primary contents certainly didn't help matters.

I don't think I can manage to tackle any of this without coffee. I'd rather face off two to one against some psychopathic villain than deal with this with no caffeine in my system, she muses to herself. Calloused hands slip deep into the back pockets of her jeans as she weaves through the sea of boxes, making a beeline for the front door. A short break before she stuck into things wouldn't hurt, would it?

A tiny smile crosses her lips as her hands seize the items hanging from the hooks in her entryway; an oversized knitted cardigan, a loose-fitting baseball cap and her faithful long blonde wig. It felt ridiculous that she had to go to such extreme lengths to exit her own home without being swarmed, but it was her reality. After two and a half years, she had grown somewhat accustomed to her undercover routine.

Walking over to the mirror in the entrance, she quickly slides the wig over her head, tucking away all evidence of her chocolate locks before proceeding to adjust her thick blonde fringe and bangs. She didn't hate the look, but there was absolutely no doubt that she preferred being a brunette. "Done!" she muses out loud, her hands seizing her handbag and draping it over her shoulder as she waltzed out the door. It was funny how such a small item could put her at ease so quickly, allowing her to transform into someone else, if only for a few hours.

Fresh sneakers squeak and tap against the tiles as she makes her way to the elevator, immediately pushing the button and proceeding to rock back and forth as she hummed happily. It had been quite a while since she had any time to herself at all. The constant string of high-profile crimes in her old neighbourhood and the lack of heroes to patrol the streets kept her on her toes. The concept of heading to the local coffee shop without being disturbed was a complete and utter luxury.

Cappuccino here I come! Her mind cries out, excitement getting the best of her as the metal door opens to reveal a familiar pair of garnet eyes. A cold shiver rushes down her spine as she stares blankly at Bakugo, her heart rate skyrocketing as she robotically steps into the elevator in an attempt to not blow her cover. Maybe if I avoid eye contact? Yeah, that should work! She muses, hands entwining in front of her as she glanced at him somewhat shyly via her peripheral vision.

Encountering her former classmates was something she was still mentally preparing herself for. So why did fate have to serve her such a dud hand? Did he live in the same building as her? He'd changed so much in the last few years. His arms were taut due to what she could only assume was his excessive training and even his once wild hair was now trimmed into an undercut. Even his presence felt somewhat different. Less murdery perhaps? She half laughed internally at the thought; Never, that will never happen.

Silence befell the pair as she stood there quietly, anxiety flickering away in her chest as she squeezed her hands nervously. She could feel it, his gaze searing into the side of her head as she stood there. He had a keen eye, but would it be her downfall? Uraraka swallows hard and turns to gaze at the floor indicator further up the wall. Only two more levels to go, she notes somewhat desperately, her throat tightening as she brushed a section of hair behind her ear; palms growing sweatier by the second until the elevator pinged loudly as it reached its destination.

Metal doors retract as she attempts to flee from the box of horror that was the elevator. She'd rather face the paparazzi than be interrogated by him of all people. Especially given how actively she had been avoiding him over the last few years. There was little to no doubt that he would've found it somewhat irritating.

"So, are you going to run away from me today Cheeks? Or are you going to acknowledge me?" Bakugo mutters, his deep voice sending shivers down her spine as he reached forward, gripping the back of her cardigan and yanking her back into the elevator as she attempts to flee. I'm speaking to you! Where the fuck did you think you were going, idiot? Lunging forward, he jabs the close button and turns back to the heroine, her back pressed up against the wall, bright eyes full of fight despite her prior actions. That determined nature of hers was admirable as always; foolish, but admirable.

Uraraka frowns, a finger jabbing the outspoken hero square in the chest as she glared up at him; thick brows pinching together. He didn't scare her, not anymore. "How did you know it was me?" she demands as she slips her wig off her head pressing it deep into her cardigan pocket, chocolate locks spilling down past her shoulders; eyes narrowing. That's unfair, this was a perfect disguise!

"Any idiot with half a fucking brain can tell who you are, Round Face," he taunts, his signature defiant smirk gripping his lips as he presses the palm of his right hand up against the wall beside her pretty face. In recent years he'd only managed to get glimpses of her in passing at major events. There was an ongoing pattern of her 'smoke bombing' and fleeing the event before he even so much as have an opportunity to breathe in her direction.

From all the fuss he'd seen about her in the tabloids and on the news, he'd expected her to have transformed into some otherworldly beauty. Sure, she looked more womanly, but that was purely due to genetics and time. It was hardly a change of her own devices, so it was hardly worth applauding despite how distracting it might be. She just looks like plain old Uraraka to me. I don't see what all the fuss is about, he muses, face inching closer as he lost himself deep in thought.

Too close! Uraraka mind screams out, heat flushing across her face as her eyes widen. Within a split second, both hands instinctively slam into his chest with little to no restraint, sending Bakugo flying backwards into the closed doors of the elevator; his body slamming against the metal surface despite being suspended mid-air.

"What the flying fuck Cheeks?!" Bakugo curses, eyes quaking as he glared at her. It was rare for him to be caught off guard, particularly by individuals he grew up with; he had learnt from those mistakes. How did Uraraka of all people transform into someone who packed such a punch in a matter of a few years? He muses irritably, brows knitting together as he relaxed into his floating state; she wasn't a threat, but it was clear she was stronger than the tabloids gave her credit for.

The gravity user plants her hands on her hips as she strides up to him, a frown set firmly across her lips. "Didn't your mother ever tell you that it's rude to stare," she states firmly, shaking her pointer finger in a scolding manner; "I won't hesitate to kick your butt to teach you a lesson if I need to." It was empowering, floating the second strongest hero of their nation so casually before her very eyes; his irked gaze searing into her own as she twisted her lips thoughtfully. I should really use this opportunity to escape.

"Me? Stare at your ugly face?" Bakugo fires back irrationally, cheeks flushing at the accusation. "Are you trying to piss me off?" he adds feistily; Who the heck does she think she is? Manhandling me like some weakling!

"I see you've still got that nasty temper of yours," Uraraka states simply, shrugging as she focused on floating him towards the back of the elevator while approaching the doors. Frown slowly evolving into a smile, the brunette reaches for the control panel, pushing the ground-floor button once more causing the elevator doors to reopen behind her back. "Look this has been great and all, but I gotta go. Cya!" she confesses, reaching into the elevator and mashing the buttons causing the door to start closing on him; she shoots him a wink and presses her fingertips together; "Release!"

Bakugo falls to the floor with a bang, doors slamming in his face as the brunette vanished from his line of sight. "What the heck! Since when was she a calculated little shit?" Balled fists slam against the metal doors repetitively as he growls, frustration getting the better of him. What the heck is that pain in the ass up to? Bright eyes narrow as the elevator door swings open on level one; Fuck it! I'm chasing that little twerp down!

Smiling proudly, Uraraka spins on her heel and slowly makes her way out of the entrance of the building. The morning sunlight instantly gliding across her cheeks as she stares happily up at the morning sky, the slight nip in the air serving as a welcome reminder that winter was fast approaching. It was nice to be back home, even if it meant running into a hothead in an elevator. Sure, the air was a little murkier than Yokohama and it was definitely noisier, but there was something comforting about its familiarity.

Thank god for my quick reflexes back there. There was no way he would've let me leave without asking a bunch of annoying questions otherwise, she muses to herself, hands slipping into the depths of her pockets. A strange silky sensation seizes her attention instantly. "Wait, this is —" she whispers, an ice-cold sensation rushing down her spine as she slowly looked further up the path to see a sizable smarm of paparazzi rushing towards her at full speed, cameras flashing. Oh, crap! I forgot to put my wig back on! So much for having a quiet cup of coffee.

AUTHOR:

I'm pretty new to writing about Kacchako so I hope you enjoyed the first chapter of this story! I'm so excited to finally be sharing it and look forward to connecting with you all!

Thank you for taking the time to read my content. It means so much to me. If you enjoyed it, please be sure to leave a review as I'd love to hear your thoughts and what you enjoyed most about this chapter.