It was a typical rescue operation. Uraraka arrived on the scene at the tail end of a fight between a villain and several pro heroes for the clean-up. Bakugou was still on the scene, dealing with the police. It was the first time she had seen him in months but she wouldn't let it phase her.

It wasn't like there was something real between her and Bakugou: it was just a feeling, a shared understanding of each other, and snatched moments when their paths crossed. She had realised her feelings for him in high school and recognised that he felt the same way. Every so often they would find themselves on a mission together or, more rarely, at a social event and they would talk the way they had always talked: like they shared a language nobody else understood; they would move the way they had always moved. But that was it. Bakugou was Bakugou. She had never talked to him about it because she knew just how the conversation would go:

"So what if I fucking love you?" the Bakugou in her head would demand, "What's that got to do with you?"

And what he would mean was that he was focused on becoming number one and didn't have time for a relationship, regardless of his feelings, and she would have to agree — so most of the times when she saw him she just brushed past him on her way to clean up the mess he had made.

"Oi, Round Face," Bakugou said, as she passed him this time. She caught his eye and he looked between her and the building she was about to enter. "Watch yourself."

She smiled, genuinely grateful for his warning. "I always do," she said. He nodded and turned back to the police officer he was debriefing.

Bakugou was right: the building was less stable than it appeared — but there were people still trapped inside and that just made it all the more urgent that she retrieve them before it collapsed. Uraraka stepped carefully, keeping her senses attuned to any shifting of the environment around her.

In the end her reflexes weren't fast enough to save her.

She felt the floor shifting beneath her a fraction of a second too late to activate Zero Gravity on herself and before she knew she was falling and the building itself was falling all around her. She felt a sharp pain at the base of her skull and the whole world went black.

Uraraka drifted in and out of consciousness in the dark, unsure how long she had been trapped for. After some time she heard a banging which seemed to come from miles away but her ears were ringing so it was hard to tell. Stop being so loud, she thought, let me sleep. She became aware of the sensation of rubble shifting on top of her, dull pain radiating through her body, and then white light painfully flooded her field of vision before being blocked out by a blurry figure. Someone said something to her and then she felt herself being lifted, tenderly, and cradled in the strong arms of someone who smelled sweet and smoky, like nitroglycerin and explosions.

He tilted her head back gently and she stared back at him, vision unfocused. She couldn't even see him really or make out what he was saying. She felt him grip her tight again and then he stood up with her in his arms. Her head fell against his shoulder and she closed her eyes.

When Uraraka awoke she was in the hospital. Her head ached and she felt sick. I must be concussed, she thought. She turned her face to the side and saw that Deku was asleep in the chair beside her bed. He must have been really worried. She couldn't remember the last time he took time off for anything. She wondered how long she had been unconscious. Had Bakugou come to visit? Probably not. She couldn't expect him to wake her up like Sleeping Beauty with a kiss. But she was glad — she couldn't stand the idea of him seeing her in her hospital bed: small, and weak, and frail.

Deku started to stir and opened his eyes, which widened when he noticed her gaze on him. "Uraraka," he breathed, and she could see him welling up. She managed a smile in response.

He told her that she had hit her head and that she had been in a medically-induced coma for three days. Apparently there had been some suggestion that she might not make it. "Oh," she said. She thought of all the times she had been in worse situations, worse disasters. It seemed impossible to believe that a collapsing building was the thing which almost put an end to her.

"Kacchan stayed behind to help the rescue effort," Deku said with a grin. "It's really softened his image. The papers are calling him a rescue hero."

She wanted to ask where he was, if he was okay, if he had asked about her. She knew he wouldn't. He would know the others would get in touch if there were any news. "I bet he loves that," she said. "He's probably been blowing his top at anyone who'll listen for days."

Deku's smile faded and he rubbed the back of his neck. "To be honest," he said, "nobody's really heard from Kacchan since it happened." She must have looked worried because he threw up his hands, "I mean except on the news," he said in a hurry, "he's been working nonstop." He looked down into his hands and seemed to consider what to say next before settling on, "He was really worried about you."

She nodded. She felt exhausted all of a sudden. The whole situation with Bakugou was exhausting.

"The picture of him pulling you from the building was all over the papers," Deku said. That figured. No doubt alongside some speculation about the nature of their relationship. At some point she would be forced to make a statement about it and tell the truth: there was no relationship, they weren't even friends, they were former classmates and that was about it.

(And they were in love.)

She must have looked tired or pained because Deku said, "I'll let you rest. I'll tell the doctors you're awake." He paused. "Should I tell the others? They'll want to visit as soon as they know but if you're too tired —"

She smiled at him and shook her head. "You can tell them," she said.

Uraraka was in hospital for a few days after that. It was boring and lonely: although her friends did their best to keep her company during visiting hours they were kept busy by their hero work so for most of the time she was alone with her thoughts.

Bakugou never visited. She wondered what they would even say to each other if he did. Maybe she would tell him how she felt, force him to confront it, make him lie to her and act like he didn't feel it too.

No, he wouldn't lie. He'd tell her the painful truth: that he felt it too and it wasn't enough. They'd get it all out in the open and it wouldn't change anything. It wasn't worth bringing up, it had never been worth bringing up. In a way it was enough just to know that the two of them had this connection: it was enough to know that he would always be there when she needed him even if he was never there when she didn't; it was enough to know that she would be looking out for him, and that he would be looking out for her, and every so often they would collide like this before ricocheting off in their separate directions.

It had always been like this between them. Maybe she would have loved him less if he had been the type of person who could give her more. But then hadn't he given her much more than any of her boyfriends? This feeling, her drive, her desire to be the best. It was more than enough.

The doctor told her that she would have to take a break from active hero work for at least a month while her brain healed. No vigorous training, either. It was frustrating. She didn't like feeling powerless, unable to help. She wondered if she should go to stay with her parents while she recovered but she couldn't bear the thought of being fussed over by them. She had wanted to take care of them, it made her sick that she had worried them so badly.

Tsuyu met her at the hospital the day she was discharged and took the train back to her apartment with her. Uraraka would have insisted on making her way home alone but this seemed like a fair concession to the friends who were worried about her.

"Are you sure you don't want me to stay with you tonight, Ochako?" Tsuyu asked as they approached Uraraka's apartment. Uraraka shook her head. Deku had offered to let her stay at his place for a few days and she had refused him for the same reason. She couldn't stand the thought of being a burden to her friends while they continued their hero work and she couldn't. Tsuyu put her finger to her chin and gave her that long, searching look. "You're not like yourself, kero," she said.

Uraraka gave her a bright smile and rubbed the back of her neck. "I just need a shower and a good night's sleep in my own bed and I'll be right as rain," she said. Tsuyu looked sceptical but she didn't press the issue and Uraraka pulled her into a hug at the door to her apartment. "I'll be okay," she said again, before letting Tsuyu go.

The apartment was much the same as she had left it. She knew Deku had been here to check on the place while she was in the hospital but he wasn't one to go prying through her things. She smiled at the note he had left on the fridge informing her that there was food inside and pulled the door open.

There was a large container of curry inside. She pulled it out and heated up a portion for herself. It smelled so much like the kind Bakugou used to make back when they all lived together at UA. She still remembered that evening when somehow they found themselves alone in the common room and he had shared his meal with her. Their eyes had met when he handed her the bowl and her heart had stopped. She had nearly said something then. She wondered if he thought of it as often as she did.

She took a bite of the curry and, before she could stop herself, burst into tears. Bakugou had made this.

The thought of him cooking for her, of him swallowing his pride to ask Deku to deliver it, unlocked all the pain and frustration of the past few days. She clutched at her chest, sobbing uncontrollably. How was she supposed to just stop for a month? What was she supposed to do?

She closed her eyes and took a few deep, shuddering breaths. She would get through this. She would heal her body and get back out there and show Japan that Uravity was as strong and capable as she had always been.

She finished her meal and cleaned up and then she found herself sitting in the kitchen again, wondering what to do with her time off. There was no guarantee that at the end of a month she would be cleared to go back to work. Maybe now was the time to take a trip: she could travel out into the countryside where she could see the stars — and where none of her friends could reach her. It wasn't that she didn't want to see or talk to them, it's just that it hurt to watch them all push forward as heroes while she was forced to take a break and their concern was stifling.

She was roused from her thoughts by a knock at the door. She frowned. Maybe she could just ignore it and whoever was there would get the picture and go away.

"Oi, Round Face," came Bakugou's voice from the other side. She stiffened. "I know you're in here," there was a pause and he added, "Deku told me you were coming home today."

She padded over to the door and opened it. He was standing in the hallway, as intense as ever, still in his hero costume as if he had come straight from patrol — no gauntlets though, she guessed he must have broken them again. She wondered what could have been so urgent for him not to stop even to take a shower or change his clothes. Their eyes met and, without a word, she stepped aside to let him into the apartment.

He stood awkwardly in the middle of the room and she realised he had never been inside her living space before but then why would he? In fact she was surprised he even knew where she lived but she supposed Deku could have told him that too. Those two seemed to be doing a lot of talking about her lately. Just as she was about to ask him why he came he said, "Fucking Deku's been up my ass to come visit you."

She considered that and then decided she wasn't going to let him get away with it. "Because you always do what he tells you to," she said, meeting his gaze.

"Tch," he said, turning his face away with a scowl.

He turned his back to her and rested his weight on his hands on the kitchen counter. "I just couldn't stop thinking about it these past few days," he said.

He seemed so tired. Uraraka remembered what Deku had said about how hard Bakugou had been working. She wanted to put her hand on his shoulder and tell him everything was all right; she wanted to take his hands in hers and rub his forearms until all the tension in them released.

"Damn it," he said, slapping his fist against her counter. "When did I become such a fucking coward?" He breathed a heavy sigh and turned to face her. "I didn't come here because Deku told me to," he said.

She nodded, holding his gaze. It burned inside of her.

"All I've been able to think about the past week is how shitty it would have been if you died and I never told you —" he made a frustrated noise, "you know you're a fucking badass."

She closed her eyes and swallowed. Was he really doing this?

"I know," she said.

"Yeah," he said. She could tell he was getting frustrated with himself but she would let him say it. She would let him have that victory over himself. "That's not what I wanted to tell you," he said.

She opened her eyes again and gazed up at him.

"I wanted to tell you that I fucking — for years, since UA — I've basically been in fucking love with you."

She could feel that she was about to start crying but he wasn't looking at her. He was looking at his fist, clenching and unclenching it.

"I never fucking said anything," he said. "Because what was the fucking point? Not like I had the time for a relationship even if you'd said yes. But then, the other day — I just couldn't fucking stand the thought of it." He released a sigh which seemed to contain years of pent-up frustration and finally met her eyes. "Look," he said, uncharacteristically softly, "I know this is the worst fucking timing and I get that you don't want to hear it. We've barely talked in years but I just wanted to say it. I don't wanna have to live or die with that regret."

"Bakugou," she said as he turned to leave but he ignored her. She reached out to him and put her hand on his arm and he stilled but he didn't turn to her. She swallowed. "Katsuki," she said, and he turned his face just a little to catch her gaze, wide-eyed and hopeful. She put her hand on his jaw and turned his head a little further as she leaned up and pressed her mouth to his.

She felt him melt a little into the kiss, letting her lead. Of course, he had never really dated. He was incredibly tender, wrapping his arms around her as she reached up to thread her fingers through his hair. She tried to pour every feeling she had had for him since they were students into the kiss, tilting his mouth, needy and insistent. It was everything she had ever wanted from him: a controlled explosion. She broke away to press little kisses along his jaw before collapsing into his arms as he gripped her as if he thought she might disappear if he let go. "I love you," she said, burying her face in his chest. "I've always loved you."

He said something like, "Wish I'd known," and she just shook her head against him, feeling the tears well up again.

"Wouldn't have made a difference," she said, "you said it yourself. You wouldn't make time for a relationship." He held her tight, rocking on his feet a little and she knew he meant: I want to try. For a wild moment she wondered if maybe things would have been different, if he would have changed his mind if he had known. But here they were now. Maybe this was the only path they could have taken to get here.

"You... knew didn't you?" he said. She nodded. "Fucking figures." He didn't seem to mind. She supposed this was just part of how they were: she understood him in ways she never knew she could understand another human being, and he knew that. It felt unreal. She wondered if even now Bakugou would be able to have a relationship — with her or anyone else. But he wanted to try. That was enough. That was more than enough.