Limerence
(Storm)

Ochako takes pride in the general unflappability she's cultivated over her three years at UA. Given the fact she's survived several logical ruses, multiple villain attacks, and a sheer number of quirk-fueled shenanigans that are the natural result of twenty super-powered teenagers living together twenty-four seven, there's not much that can pierce through her newfound equanimity.

Even when Deku had told her about Todoroki, she had taken the news with little more than a blink and a heartfelt "congratulations." Supporting her crush in his new relationship had been hard, but she'd seen it coming months beforehand. Deku had been talking to her about it months beforehand. It was hardly a surprise.

Yes, she takes great pride in her levelheadedness.

And yet Bakugou had managed to shatter her composure with only three words.

Yes. You are.

She doesn't remember what she had been hoping to get out of her ambush of Bakugou that evening. All she can remember is that she'd been sick and tired of the sudden cold shoulder and had been determined to get answers out of him one way or another.

"You need to give him time," Momo had told her earlier that day. "You really scared him when you fell."

"You scared all of us," Tsuyu had added.

"But it was so romantic the way he blasted off to try to save you," Mina had gushed, then made a face. "It feels weird putting 'romantic' and 'Bakugou' in the same context."

Ochako had laughed them off. "It's not like that," she'd said. "You guys know how protective Bakugou is of everyone in the class. He would've tried to save anyone."

The girls had all raised their eyebrows and exchanged glances with each other. "We … didn't actually know that," Kyouka had said.

"Uhm. Well," Ochako had stammered, then changed the subject.

So maybe …

Maybe it shouldn't have been as much of a surprise as it was.

But Bakugou is Bakugou, and it didn't even occur to her. After all, he's just as close if not closer to Kirishima. That doesn't mean he has feelings for him, and Bakugou certainly deserves more than one friend.

She still feels bad for the way she had left him there in his room, but her knees had gone weak and she'd needed to get out as fast as possible. She'd run into Kirishima as she left, and it had only taken one look at him to know that he knew exactly what had happened.

It's not that she –

Hm.

Ochako … doesn't have feelings for Bakugou – not like she did for Deku – but she doesn't not have feelings either.

By all accounts, it doesn't make sense.

But here she is anyway.

It's an odd place to be. She now knows Bakugou has feelings for her, which – like Mina had said – is kind of weird. Not, like, a bad weird, but weird all the same. Bakugou hadn't shown interest in anyone throughout their years at UA. How long had he liked her?

Does it matter?

His voice echoes in her head, and her answer is the same as it was.

I suppose not.

What does it matter if her stomach twists a little bit whenever he walks into the room? What does it matter if her heart beats a little faster whenever he addresses her? What does it matter?

What does it matter … even if she's starting to wonder if she wants it to matter?

Winter creeps across Japan; its ghostly hands send chills down everyone's backs. The chill settles into their bones, and only the promise of the holidays keeps their spirits afloat. Everyone shrinks into themselves as they shiver to keep warm during the walk between the dorms and the classroom and during their outdoor exercises.

The couples become even more … coupley, and it's hard to find Deku without Todoroki glued to his hip these days.

But it's okay. She's okay. It's been months, and Ochako has shrugged off the vestiges of her old crush. She no longer avoids the two of them – instead, she often joins them for as long as she feels she hasn't overstayed her welcome. After all, Deku's friendship means far too much to her for her to let it slip away due to her own insecurities and misgivings.

And besides, Todoroki is actually pretty cool. Ochako knew this, of course – she'd listened to Deku talk about his crush for months before anything had actually happened, and Todoroki had opened up more and more as the years passed. All the same, hanging out with him one-on-one (plus Deku) is new for her, and she enjoys his quick wit and dry humor and levelheaded impulsiveness.

It's a good thing she feels comfortable with them again, because with things with Bakugou still up in the air, Ochako would have felt out of place in two of her three social groups if she didn't.

Since their 'talk,' Bakugou hasn't been freezing her out the way he did for those two weeks following the fight, but it's an uneasy truce. They partner again in class, but their conversations are short and stilted, and they don't really talk any more than they have to in order to complete the assignments. They begin texting again, but his responses are pithy and clipped.

She doesn't like it.

"I don't know what to do," she says one cold December afternoon, curled up in a blanket at the foot of Deku's bed. Deku swivels idly in his desk chair while Todoroki reclines against the headboard. Deku's room is toasty – much warmer than the hallway outside – and she knows Todoroki's been doing his human space heater thing.

Deku is so lucky.

"About Kacchan?"

She nods mutely.

They'd done a joint training exercise in class earlier that afternoon, and Ochako had paired with Bakugou for the first time since taking some time to work with her other friends. For that class period, as they plotted how best to use their quirks together and beat their classmates, it had felt like nothing had ever happened between them. They'd laughed and grinned and had fun together.

And they'd won. In their excitement, he'd hugged her … and she'd hugged him back … and then he froze, dropped her, and just walked away.

Feeling as though she'd been struck by lightning and had her heart torn asunder, she'd done her best to pick herself back up before anyone noticed. Blackened and charred, she doesn't know what had possessed her to seek out Deku, of all people, but here she is: curled up with a blanket on his bed like things had never been weird between them.

Maybe it's because Deku still sees the best in Bakugou, even after all these years. Maybe it's because she knows he won't tease her like her girlfriends would. Maybe it's because, despite everything, Deku still makes her feel safe.

He's her lighthouse on the rocks.
Her safe harbor.
Her port in the storm.

"Well, we've established he likes you," Deku says, continuing to swivel. "Do you like him?"

"I don't know," Ochako mumbles. She idly drags a finger across the blanket, leaving little swirls in its wake. "I really liked being friends. I felt like we understood each other. But we're so busy with school … and he's moving to America after graduation …"

"And you're avoiding the question," Todoroki says.

She shrugs. "Do I like him, or do I just not want things to be weird anymore?" she asks. "The thought hadn't occurred to me until he said something, so I don't know if it's really something I want. And it's really hard to tell when we don't even talk anymore."

Deku nods along with her words. "Kacchan is probably feeling vulnerable," he says. "Despite what everyone thinks, it's not that he doesn't feel emotions. If anything, I think he feels too much emotion, all the time, and doesn't know how to handle it."

She smiles and rests her head on her knees. "I kind of figured that out," she says, unable to keep the fondness from creeping into her voice. "And usually, I know how to handle him. But this time?" She shrugs again, helplessly.

"You just need to stop letting him get away with being a little bitch," Todoroki says, casual as anything.

Ochako looks up, startled. Then she giggles. "Yeah?"

A small smile cracks Todoroki's face. "Yeah. Isn't that what you said you did before?"

Ochako hums. "Yeah, I guess – not in quite so many words though! But like, I knew what I wanted then. I don't know what I want now, and I don't want to lead him on unintentionally."

Deku blinks at her. "Do you think you would lead him on?"

"I don't know!" Ochako cries, burying her face in her hands. There's a flip in her stomach that tells her she just activated her quirk, but the blanket weighs her down on the bed.

"Uraraka, I think you like him," Todoroki says, short and blunt. "This wouldn't be an issue if it wasn't an issue."

A small 'eep' escapes her lips, and she concentrates on releasing her quirk. When she feels her weight settle back down on the bed, she hugs her legs and buries her face in her knees. Something is roiling inside her, her thoughts churning in her head like ocean waves against the coastline in a squall.

Maybe … maybe she does like him? But if so, since when? Since That Night back in August, when he'd opened up to her in a way he never had before? Or did it go back further, to when she realized he was more bluster than bite and refused to be intimidated by his so-called Baku-Rage Aura?

Deku casts her a sympathetic look. "Shouto's right," he says with a twist of his mouth. "It's not like you to be this bothered by something you think shouldn't bother you."

Case in point: her old crush on him.

"I hate you both," she groans into the blanket.

"No you don't," Deku says flippantly – probably grinning. She doesn't bother to check for herself; she flips him the bird anyway.

He just laughs. "I think Kacchan's rubbed off on you more than you think."

Ochako sighs and goes back to doodling designs in the blanket so she doesn't have to make eye contact with either of them. "Okay, so … so what if I might?" she asks. "It's not like it really matters, when everything else still holds true. We're still training to be heroes, we're still months from graduation, he's still moving to America after graduation … I don't know if it's really worth it."

"Respectfully, Uraraka," Todoroki says, "that's bullshit."

Ochako looks up and blinks back at him.

"Izuku and I only got our shit together at the beginning of this year. He's dealing with the added pressure of being All Might's successor. I'm moving to America after graduation. But it isn't stopping us from being together."

"Aw, Shouto."

Ochako scrunches her nose at the sickening sweetness radiating off the two. "Yeah, but you guys are … you, y'know? We've all seen that coming since like, last year, if not earlier. You're gonna do the long distance thing and be stronger than before, and I just … don't see that happening with Bakugou."

"Do you want that to happen with Kacchan?" Deku asks.

Ochako throws her hands up in the air. "I don't know!" she exclaims again. "I haven't thought about it! But even if I did, I don't think he's the type."

"You know your first relationship doesn't have to be The One," Todoroki says pragmatically. "It's not a bad thing to be with someone for funsies."

Ochako nearly loses it at Todoroki saying 'funsies' with a straight face. "So … you think I should go for it?" she asks, somewhat confused by the support she knows she wouldn't have received in the same magnitude from her girlfriends.

"We're saying you should do what makes you happy," Deku explains. "If that means starting something with Kacchan, then go for it. If it means not doing anything, then do that."

Todoroki nods in agreement.

Deku bites at his lip and runs a hand through his curls to rub at the back of his neck. "If I'm being honest, though," he says, "I think you're good for him. He needs someone who will go toe-to-toe with him, and challenge him, and not take any of his shit. He really respects you, Uraraka – of course, that should be like, the base requirement for any relationship so I dunno how much that actually means anything, and –"

"Izuku," Todoroki cuts in softly, "you're going off on a tangent again."

"Ah." Deku says. "Right. Well, you get the point."

Ochako smiles and unfurls from beneath the blanket. "Thanks, guys. That … really helps. I think."

"You don't have to go," Deku says when she makes to stand. "You're welcome to hang out here where it's warm for a while. We could watch a movie or something."

She casts a look between the two boys. "Are you sure?"

Todoroki nods.

"Well … alright," she says, snuggling back under the blanket but moving over in a clear invitation for Deku to sit next to his boyfriend. "What are we watching?"

Despite her talk with Deku and Todoroki, Ochako struggles with herself for another week. What does she want? Does she really like Bakugou, or does she just like him because she knows he likes her? God, if having an unrequited crush was hard, having a requited one is even harder. Which it shouldn't be, but it's so much more difficult to ignore it and disregard it and brush it aside knowing that Bakugou is struggling just as much as she is.

She thinks.

He must be, right?

It's kind of hard to tell. What if, in telling her, he got over it? What if now that she's the one crushing on him, he's already moved on?

"You did reject him," Deku reminds her with a rueful look on his face when she brings it up at lunch one day. "He's going to respect that, and besides, you know he has his pride. He's not gonna come crawling back to you."

Ochako scrunches her nose. She doesn't like the image that invokes. She knows Bakugou is a prideful motherfucker, but despite how frustrating that can be … it's one of the things she likes and admires about him.

"So it'd be up to me," she surmises.

"Hmm? Yeah. Pretty much," Deku confirms.

"Okay. Yeah. Cool. Awesome."

She's still not convinced that she actually likes him. She still doesn't want to say anything she doesn't actually mean and accidentally lead him on. But … she can't not say anything.

What does it matter, she muses that afternoon as they walk back to the dorms after class, if it turns out she doesn't like him after all? He's moving to America in August, so that will give her a convenient out if she needs it.

It's not a bad thing to be with someone for funsies.

Todoroki's words echo in her head, and she giggles yet again.

Her resolution made, she pounds a mittened fist into a mittened hand. Okay! Now she just has to find an opportunity to actually talk to Bakugou, preferably without anyone else around. They're lucky that Bakugou's only neighbor is Kirishima, and that he wasn't around to actually hear their argument last month. Not that it really matters – Kirishima knows everything anyway.

Kirishima knows everything anyway.

Now that's an idea …

"Hey, Kirishima!" she chirps, sidling up to him and hooking her arm through his. "I've got a question for you!"

He grins down at her. "Sure, Uraraka. What's up?"

She's suddenly very aware of Bakugou watching her from Kirishima's other side. She meets his eyes, and there's something … dark, she thinks, in his face. Well, Bakugou always looks like he hates the world, but this is more than that. This isn't his usual explosive anger – this is a thundercloud that hasn't yet begun to rain.

Her mouth forms a silent 'oh' as she realizes the position she's in, leaning against Kirishima with her arm wrapped through his. Bakugou is jealous, although surely he knows that Kirishima is the absolute last person who would screw him over like that. Her heart lodges itself in her throat, and she coughs to clear it.

"Uh, not here," she says, forcing her gaze away from red-morning eyes to meet red-night eyes instead. "Walk with me?"

Kirishima raises his eyebrows at her and gives her a Look that tells her he knows exactly what this is about. She shrugs, and he shakes his head with a smile. "Sure," he says, and turns to Bakugou. "I'll catch you later, bro."

"Whatever, Shitty Hair."

Kirishima winces as they walk away. "Yep, he's mad," he says. "You'd better have good reason for this. You know he's been tetchier than a crotchety old man lately."

Ochako winces back at him. "Yeah, I know," she says. "That's actually … what I wanted to talk to you about."

"I mean, I kinda figured," he says. "How can I help? Actually, wait. Sorry, I have to ask. Best bro responsibility and all. What are you planning to do? Because he doesn't need his face rubbed in this any more than it already has been."

Ochako laughs through her guilt and pats his arm. "I'm really glad he has you, and I'm really sorry you got pulled into the middle of this absolute shitshow."

Kirishima shrugs. "I kinda put myself here, to be honest."

"You know," she says, "I'm not surprised. But anyway. I want to, uh. Yeah, I –" God, why is saying it out loud so hard? She takes a deep breath to collect herself. "I want to give it a shot," she finally says. "I still don't know how I really feel, but I think it could work."

Kirishima beams down at her, and it's almost too bright to look at. "If you were anyone else I'd ask to make sure you weren't just playing with him, but I know you wouldn't do that," he says. "I'm really happy for you guys – I think you're good for each other."

Ochako shrugs. "That's what Deku said too," she admits. At least, he'd said she was good for Bakugou. He hadn't said anything about Bakugou being good for her, but it was probably an oversight on his part, considering he'd gotten distracted by his own thoughts. It's nice to hear it from Kirishima.

"So what do you need from me?"

She purses her lips. "I need to talk to him," she says, "Preferably without anyone around, but I know asking him to talk to me probably won't work. You have a pretty good idea of his routine, right? Is there a good time I could corner him and get him to listen to me?"

Kirishima thinks for a moment. As they walk in silence, surrounded by the chatter of their classmates, it begins to snow. Ochako grins and tries to catch a snowflake on her tongue.

Beside her, Kirishima laughs. "You're adorable," he says. "But actually, I think the best time to catch Bakugou would be when he's at the gym. He goes around six o'clock almost every night, and the underclassmen have all decided it's best they be elsewhere during that time."

Makes sense. Bakugou has calmed down since first year, for sure, but he's still extremely intimidating if one doesn't know him well. "What about everyone from our year?" she asks.

"Hmm … well, I'm sure Midoriya and I could create a distraction to keep everyone from our class away, and I could ask Tetsutetsu to do the same for class B … oh! But if you catch him tonight, you probably won't have to worry too much. We're supposed to get a huge blizzard – I doubt anyone's gonna want to walk over to the gym tonight."

Ah. Tonight? That's … a bit sooner than Ochako was anticipating on having to face all her problems, but she supposes it's best to get it out of the way with.

"Yeah," she says, blowing warm air into her hands. "Yeah, alright. I'll catch him tonight. Do you think I'll need to barricade the door?"

"It might not hurt," Kirishima says with a grin, "but I think you'll be fine. He's so far gone on you, he won't be able to deny you anything, I promise."

Well. If that's not a bit of pressure added to the entire situation.

The blizzard is blustering in full force by six o'clock that night. Dressed in a pink sports bra, black leggings, and a black Thirteen tank top as if she's actually going to work out, Ochako stands by the back door of the 3-A dorms and stares out into the swirling whiteness. There are footprints embedded in the snow that already lies on the ground – they must be Bakugou's, because only a fool would leave the dorm in this weather.

Well, that makes her a fool, then.

Pulling her coat tighter around her body, she steps out into the storm. She's immediately buffeted by the wind, and all thoughts of cancelling her gravity to make walking through the deep snow easier are rescinded. Thankfully, it's not a long walk to Gym Zeta, since it's located on the dorm grounds rather than on campus.

Her jacket and boots are soaked by the time she reaches the gym, and she shrugs both off in the locker room. Slipping pink sneakers onto her feet and pulling her long hair up into a high ponytail, she stares herself down in one of the mirrors.

She can do this. She's kicked Bakugou's ass in combat several times. This should be so much easier than that … right?

Right?

Wrong.

Bakugou is indeed the only one in the gym aside from herself. She stands in the entranceway and watches him for a moment, entranced. His skin glistens with sweat as he works the fly machine with a single-minded determination that she's seen on all their classmates' faces several times. There's something different about seeing it on Bakugou, though, and she shivers.

Maybe that's just a delayed reaction to the chill outside.

Bakugou finishes his set and sighs. When he looks up and sees her standing there, he visibly startles. He doesn't meet her eyes; instead, he turns away and takes a swig from his water bottle.

"What the fuck are you doing here?" he bites.

"I –" her words fail her. She tries to think of the best thing to say, and she eventually settles on, "I'm here to work out, same as you. What set are you on?"

Bakugou looks like he wants to call bullshit on her – as well he should – but he doesn't. Maybe Kirishima was onto something. "I just started," he says begrudgingly. "Take that one – we'll switch off."

They work out in silence for nearly an hour, the rhythmic squeaking of machines, the huff of their breathing, and the howling of the wind outside the only sounds between them. All the same, there's a weird electricity about them, like the oppressive supernatural aura the world takes on before a thunderstorm. The hair on her arms stands on end, and the longer the silence stretches on, the more oppressive it becomes.

"I'm going to the bench press. Spot me?" His voice is the lightning strike, the beat of her heart the thunderclap.

"Sure," she says.

She finds something – anything – else to focus on while he loads the weights.

"Who usually spots you?" she asks, looking for a distraction as he settles himself on the bench. It's a weird feeling, standing above him. It's not something that happens every day. "You usually work out alone, right?" No need to rat Kirishima out for tattling on his gym habits.

He shrugs and adjusts his hands on the bar. "Kirishima, sometimes. Half n' Half, occasionally. Deku if I'm desperate. Glasses. If no one's here, I just stick to the machines."

He does a set, and they trade off. She has to remove some of the weight, but not nearly as much proportionally as she once did. Even without her quirk, she can lift more than the rest of the girls in their class, and more than some of the boys too.

"What about you?"

Oh, is that an attempt at willingly initiating conversation with her? That's new. She must be wearing him down. "Usually Tsuyu," she says. While the six of them often work out together, they've long since split into smaller pairs: Ochako and Tsuyu, Momo and Jirou, Tooru and Mina. It just makes things easier.

"But I don't actually need a spotter," she reminds him with a cheeky grin, waggling her fingers.

"You should still have one," he grumbles. "It's not fucking safe."

She does her set, and they trade off again. They do their second sets in silence, and it's on the third that Ochako finally takes a breath and gathers her courage.

"So," she says as he loads weight back onto the bar. "How long?"

He's on the bench and adjusting his grip on the bar when he replies, "What?"

"How long have you liked me?"

His eyes go wide for a split second, and instead of answering, he lifts the bar. Ochako waits patiently as he does his reps, but when he continues to go past the number he had set, she grabs the barbell with one hand and activates her quirk. It immediately loses all its weight, and she takes it from his hands.

"You bitch," he growls with a ferocity that she's no longer used to receiving from him. He moves as if to sit up and get off the bench, and she panics. Still holding the barbell, she slings a leg over the bench and settles her weight on his waist so that she's sitting just above his hips. She hooks her feet underneath the bench for extra leverage.

Her arms are strong, but her thighs are stronger. He could still throw her off if he tried, but he won't.

"Answer the question."

"I thought it didn't matter," he spits, glaring off to the side. His arms fold across his chest.

"It didn't," Ochako says, digging in her heels when he tries to dislodge her. "Now it does."

He freezes, then goes limp beneath her as the weight of her words hits him. She lets go of the barbell, and it floats aimlessly away from them.

"Fucking … fine. Whatever, I guess," he grumbles. "Since the Sports Festival. This year. Or first year. Take your fuckin' pick because I sure as hell don't know."

Ochako blinks. That … long? She doesn't know what she had been expecting. August, maybe – the night they had their conversation in the common room. But the Sports Festival …

"That was in May," she says, stunned. She chooses to overlook the part where he said he might have liked her since first year.

"Yeah. I know. What's your fucking point?"

Ochako bites her lip, and she watches as Bakugou's eyes track the movement. It's only then that she realizes she really does have a power over him that he's never given anybody else.

"I, uh," she stammers, "I wasn't – I didn't think about it until you told me. But, um. It's been all I've been able to think about since then."

Bakugou stares blankly back at her. "What did you just fuckin' say?"

Ochako laughs nervously and nearly loses her balance. Her feet drop to the floor and she steadies herself with four fingers against his chest, but not before his hands shoot out to brace her thighs.

It's … nice.

The moment he realizes what he's done he moves to take his hands back, but she lays her own hands over his, keeping them there. Until now, she didn't know that Bakugou could blush. Now she does, and he does so brilliantly.

She grins, but realizes she needs to continue talking. "Well, we've been closer since August, and I really enjoyed our friendship and what we had, but the thought of it being, well, romantic, didn't occur to me until you said it outright, but I panicked, and then I just, um … I just didn't know, and then we weren't talking, and –!"

And she hasn't said nearly the extent of what's been on her mind this past month, but his thumbs are rubbing hesitant circles against her thighs, and it's … distracting, to say the least.

"So what's. Your fucking. Point?"

Ochako knows her face must be bright red, but Bakugou's looking up at her with an expression that almost seems out of place on his face. It's so much softer than she's used to seeing on him, but it's still guarded, and she doesn't blame him for it.

"I want to give this – us – a shot," she murmurs, pressing a palm to his chest but keeping her pinky finger carefully raised. "I know you're moving in August. But that's –" she does some quick math in her head – "eight months away. I'm not … not trying to fool myself. We can plan to break up before you leave. Make it a clean break. Quick, easy, painless. But I think we'd be happier – together – before then."

She holds her breath as she waits for him to say something – anything.

The words don't come, but the guarded expression fades from his face, and he looks up at her like she's hung the moon. Like she's the first ray of sunlight shining through parting clouds after a storm. It's affection, and reverence, and everything words can't say that makes her feel lighter than air.

Her stomach flips, and suddenly she is.

"Whoops."

Bakugou laughs and tightens his grip on her thighs, and suddenly she's laughing too. It only takes a little concentration to return weight to herself but keep the barbell floating. She doesn't know where it is or how high up it is and she honestly doesn't care enough to find out.

"How is it that you always know exactly what to say?" Bakugou asks gently.

"I don't know," she says, pulling her thoughts back from the wayward barbell. "I just say what's on my mind."

One of his hands moves from her thigh to tug at the neckline of her tank top. She lets him pull her closer, coming down to rest on her forearms against his chest as her ponytail falls down over her shoulder.

"Well, then I'll say what's on mine. I'm going to kiss you now." He says it like it's not an option, but searches her face for permission all the same.

"Sounds good to me," she manages in a whisper.

And then her lips are on his, and despite how sharp and rough Bakugou is as a person, it's so so soft and tender and sweet and it's almost like he's afraid of hurting her – which is incredible given the fact he's the only person who has never been afraid of hurting her. She moves to deepen the kiss before he does, and it draws a noise from him that's so unlike any noise she's ever heard him make before.

His other hand moves from her hip to cup her cheek, and she threads her fingers back through his hair, making sure to keep her pinkies raised. They're both hot and kind of sweaty, but he sweats nitroglycerin so instead of smelling like sweaty boy he smells more like burnt sugar and it's kind of unnerving just how much she likes it.

Her heart pounds. Her stomach flips. And suddenly she's hovering over top of him, his hands on her face and her hands in his hair the only things keeping them tethered. They break apart as they both start to laugh again, but neither let go.

"You're probably going to have to get used to that," she says wryly, wriggling her feet in the zero-g.

He grins up at her, all teeth and deviousness. "Bring it on."

They get back to the dorm … pretty late … that night. Despite the hour, Kirishima's there to give them the thumbs up when they stumble in out of the cold, and Bakugou flips him off.

It's nice to know that some things never change.