Ochaco's finally begun her yelling match with Bakugo. I can see her through the door's window, standing straight up and glaring down at her shelf-set phone, her mouth opening and closing in sync with her frantic-waving arms. It took her twenty minutes to reach this point. That's a new record. But making note of the record won't help anything. No matter how long Ochaco can keep herself from yelling at Bakugo – she undeniably will end up yelling at him.
There's no helping it. The two of them can't see eye-to-eye in this conversation, because the two of them are having entirely different discussions. Ochaco is unwilling to leave her team for reasons she can't bring herself to say, and Bakugo wants her to team up with him for reasons he can't correctly convey. She's annoyed with his persistence because she can't answer him – and he's aggravated by her stubbornness because he can't make his request any more convincing than it already is. It'll continue going round and round. And it won't ever slow down – not until one of them allows it.
This is a futile problem, just like when Izuku tried to refuse Ochaco's feelings. One of them had to give up their fight first before a conversation could happen.

Uncomfortably familiar with both Bakugo's persistence and these sort of futile run-arounds, my husband speaks his mind, "There's no point in those two arguing in there. They're not even arguing over the same things. I'm not even sure I can call it an 'argument'."

"Mhm." I nod.

"Then why did you have him call her?"

My glance moves up from the book I'm reading and locks onto my husband's concerned stare. The answer I give him is an obvious one, "It's better that they yell at each other over the phone, than out in public. They don't need that kind of attention. None of us do."

He nods… then tilts his head in confusion. After some thought, he rephrases his question, "I guess what I'm really asking is – If there's no point in them arguing, then why are we letting them? Shouldn't we step in?"

"We'll step in. We always step in after they've had a few minutes to vent."

"No, no – I mean… Hm… I mean – Shouldn't we be stepping in more permanently? That is, we should be the ones to resolve the argument, right? If we both talk it over with Bakugo and make it clear to him that Uraraka won't change her mind – then even he'll have to settle with that answer. He won't like it, at all, but he'll still accept it."

"He's going to start a fight with you, you know. Ochaco's so loyal to your team, that he probably thinks that he just has to beat you in order to win her over."

"I'm willing to fight him."

"Oh the brave, heroic Deku, the number one hero of Japan – fighting for a woman that isn't his wife – publicly beating down the number two hero of Japan." I scoff at the possible headlines running through my head. "That kind of straightforward-heroics is more trouble than it's worth in this day and age."

"Well we can't just let this keep going."

"No, we can't."

"So then… I don't know what we're supposed to do. The only thing I do know is that letting them talk like this is only making both of them more stressed."

"I'd imagine it would."

"Then they should stop talking already." Izuku stands up from his chair, setting aside his laptop. "I'll tell her to hang up for now, and –"

"I'd really rather you don't." I interrupt him, as I put aside my book and give him a pressuring stare.

He's stopped halfway to the door, looking at me quizzically. "Er… Why shouldn't I?"

I sigh and shrug my shoulders. "Just let them hang up on each other."

"That could be hours from now."

"It's not like the Agency has any real closing hours. They'll keep the lights on for us if we want to stay. So just let those two tire themselves out for once."

My husband frowns at me. "Doing that will only make things worse. Ochaco was really tired for a whole week the last time it happened. And Kacchan was completely irritable for two."

"That time was awful…"

"Yeah…"

"Yeah."

Seconds pass in silence, until Izuku finally responds, "Wait, are you just waiting until one of them snaps?!"

The question was put very crudely, but it was the right question. I look away from him, hiding away a nervous expression. "… Maybe."

I can't see Izuku's expression, but I can imagine that it's shocked and, more appropriately, disappointed. The directed tone he gives shares both expressions, "Why – Why would you want that, Tsuyu? This is Ochaco we're talking about! If Kacchan snaps, she could end up in actual, physical danger! And if Ochaco's the one that snaps, then…"

I look down guiltily. The sour, fading note at the end of his last statement shows that he's already figured it out. At this point, he's more than just disappointed with me. But I didn't expect him to figure it out at this point. He's too early. Two, maybe three more calls later – that's when I expected him to realize it. And by then, the problem I was concerned over would have already been brought to light.
It's not as if I wanted to hide my intention from him – I was just hoping this would all play out naturally. But I guess that was hoping for too much. Nothing ever plays out naturally in our lives.
"I'm sorry…" I say as I crouch to my knees, and bow low in apology. This is the first time I've ever put myself in this posture for anyone. But this is also the first time I've ever betrayed someone's trust this blatantly. And the fact that it was my husband's trust that was broken… I bow myself lower. "I'm sorry, Izuku…"

"Why are you apologizing to me…? You should be apologizing to Ochaco… You should be apologizing to her for breaking that promise between you two! I'm not the one you lied to!" he's yelling now. I haven't heard my husband raise his voice in anger since… since that day I accused him of being intimate with Ochaco. That was an awful memory. I hate remembering it. I never wanted to make him angry like that again. But here he is yelling again, just like that time.
A part of me is poisoned with jealousy… jealous that he's getting angry at his own wife in order to protect another woman. But that's just a selfish and idiotic jealousy. I'm the one that kept this woman under his protection. I'm the one that put us all in this situation. I'm the one that's threatening her – my best friend, our best friend – with my silent decisions.
"If you didn't want it from the beginning, you should have just said so!" Izuku continues his scolding, "But now you've dragged her into all of this, and, what – you're just going to abandon her now?!"

"I'm not trying to abandon her!" I yell back, still in my bowed position. I'm in the wrong in this conversation, to be sure, and I don't have a right to speak out for myself, but I'm not going to be blamed for something that I'm not guilty of.

His foot stomps on the ground in response to my defense. "No, I guess you're not trying to abandoning her – you're trying to make her run away from us! You're trying to get Bakugo to pressure her every day, guilt-tripping her into thinking that she's holding herself back, holding us back, until she can't take the discouragements anymore and runs off on her own! That's what you're trying to do! Does that sound any better?!"

"Of course not!" I push myself up from my bow and glare daggers at Izuku. His eyes are fierce and firm against my glare. My hurt heart tells me that this stare – this treatment – is cold of him, but my logical mind tells me that he's only doing what he should be doing: keeping me from doing something I might regret.
"Of course not…" I say again, with a broken voice. "That sounds horribly worse… But it only sounds that way, and looks that way, for now. After they've had a few more conversations, you would see the benefit of them talking it out this way."

"So the ends justify the means?"

"NO!" I scream.
That phrase… I hate that phrase. He knows I hate it. It's a phrase people use as an excuse to commit crimes, or force poor decisions on others. Even with my harsh ways of viewing the world – I would never support harmful means to gain a 'better end'. That 'better end' is mostly misconceived foresight. The real 'better end' comes from genuine and true efforts.
This was a genuine and true effort. Rather than run and hide away with us for the rest of her life, Ochaco would finally be able to put her decisions and emotions to the test. Instead of just playing pretend in this awkward relationship, she would get to see what it really means to hold onto a taboo relationship, when factors outside of her feelings come crashing in. She'd no longer be protected by us. She'd have to face reality. No matter what ends up happening, isn't this the better road to take?
The end and means of my held back words, of my intent of letting them talk it out, didn't justify one another. They justified themselves. This was for her to face the problem. This was for her to reach a conclusion. I just wanted the constantly-brought-up opportunity to be taken seriously for once, and for it to reach its end without any of us trying to ruin it with our biases.
If Bakugo kept involving himself in our lives after that one, significant mission with Ochaco – then I take it as a sign that Ochaco should take his offer seriously. And there's no chance that she would ever take it seriously if she was 'satisfied enough' with her current life. Completely refusing an option's benefits just so you can prove that yours is better? That is an end justifying the means.

I tell Izuku about these concerns, and my other concerns, at length. Not to excuse my actions – but to clarify why I went through with them. If I couldn't be honest with him in the first place, then I can at least be honest with him now. Ochaco's life, our life with her, what this means to us now, what this will mean to us three years from now – those are the things I worry over more and more, the further along we go with this trio-ship.
"I know it was as much her decision as it was mine when I asked her to be honest with you…" I say to him. We've seated ourselves on the floor, continuing his lecture and my apology on this equal level. "But how can I let her continue with a decision that puts her in such a pitiable place? Bakugo's a real jerk in how he puts things, but he's completely right when he says that she's just a third-wheel in this relationship. You and I are only deepening our relationship as a husband and wife… but Ochaco can't go any deeper than where she is now. She's practically chained to where she is – as a single woman, as an individual, as our friend. She can't move on from here. And letting her stay this way, whether or not it was her decision too, makes me a horrible friend to her."
I'm not sure what kind of face I'm holding while I say all this – sad, yet reserved? Or maybe I'm poker-faced again. I can never tell without a mirror. Even with all my honesty, I always feel as if I'm not getting my feelings across. I can only hope my words are clear enough for my intent.

But for my husband Izuku, his intents are always crystal clear. Serious and stalwart, yet compassionate and listening – his expression tells me exactly how he feels about my words: He sympathizes with what I've said, but still finds my actions entirely wrong.
"You knew it would end up this way." Izuku says to me, "We both knew that her following us along in this relationship would keep her from moving on like she should've."

I shake my head slightly. "I didn't know. I really didn't. How would I know? I've never met anyone that's had this kind of relationship before. I've only seen break-ups and rejections when it comes to a girl confessing her feelings towards a taken man. Ochaco's confession was something completely different. Her entirely-platonic love wasn't something I could understand at that time… but because it meant that there'd be no ill feelings between us: I was all for it. That's why I went through with it."

"Making a big decision like that without considering what it'd mean for the future… That's not like you."

"I don't have perfect foresight, Izuku. And I don't always avoid unsure outcomes. I just prepare for them when I can. This decision, though, I didn't know how to prepare for, or what to prepare for. I just let it happen anyways because I really didn't want to lose Ochaco…"

"But you're trying to make her leave now!"

"Because it's the better decision to make up for my stupid mistake! If she leaves this way, then she'll be able to move on with herself, find someone she can grow a deeper bond with, and be able to act on her love – not just admire it from up-close."

"And what about Ochaco? What about it being her decision too? Doesn't she have a say in this?"

"Of course she would, if she knew. But I already told you that if she knew: then there's no doubt in my mind that she'd refuse this option completely. She'll always think that her current life is the better option of the two."

"What if she's right?"

I blink. "What?"

"I said – what if she's right." Izuku repeats himself. "What if her life right now is better? What if she's happier with us than she would be if she were with someone else?"

I blink at him again. What he said was just so wrong, that I was confused on whether or not I heard him correctly. But now that he's repeated himself, I'm confused as to whether or not he knows what he just said. "You… You can't be serious about that, Izuku."

"Why can't I be?"

"Because there's no way she can be 'happier' like this! She's happy, yes. Happy to have friends, a job she cares about, a place to stay, the necessities, and the wants. But, at most, she's only settling!"

"How do you know that?"

"How wouldn't I know that?! How do you not know that?! Midoriya Izuku… Uraraka Ochaco is in love with you. You. That poor, bubbly, sweet and adorable girl is head-over-heels in love – with – you! It's why I adore her – because I know exactly how that feels. No one else but her knows how I feel when it comes to being in love you. But the difference between her and me is that I can at least act on that love. I can kiss you, I can hold you, I can touch you, I can say you're mine without a doubt in my mind! And I can do so much more – so much, much more – than she can ever even attempt to do!"
My legs curl, covering my chest – cradling the stinging ache of my heart. I'm tempted to leave my response at that just so I can stop the pain from growing. But I know it wouldn't be right. Izuku needs to know why I pushed for this to happen. He needs to know how much Ochaco is hurting.
After a short pause for breath, I continue, "I can express my love for you in more than just words. I can show it to you. I can share it with you. I can give it to you. My love for you has an action, a function, a use, a purpose – beyond just a strong and meaningful friendship. It's not just a set of superficial, cutesy, pleasant words that I can shower you with whenever I have the chance. What I have for you is love. Real love. Concrete, solid, tangible, provable, evidential, accessible.
"The platonic love Ochaco says she carries for you, doesn't exist… It took me a year of watching her interact with you honestly, to realize that. Platonic love is for family, friends, and comrades. It's what I have for her… What she has for you is anything but platonic. It shows in her eyes, in her frowns, in her self-jabbing jokes, in her silent stares, in her eagerness to help you. She needs to love you more than she does now. But instead, she's always holding herself back – for my sake, for our promise's sake, for our relationship's sake…
"How can she agree to this kind of life and not be settling, Izuku? Can you really not tell how she feels for –" my words halt themselves.
In an attempt to get moisture away from my eyes while I spoke, I had blinked, and my vision became unfocused. It was then that I noticed that the door to the reading nook was partially open.
Ochaco is holding it in place, unmoving. How long had she kept that door open?
Seconds pass by in silence. How much longer does she intend to stay behind it?
She's more than aware that I know that she can hear us – her posture conveys that she's been wanting me to know. Was she waiting only for me to say something?
"Ochaco, I –"

Ochaco quickly thrusts the door wide open, walks around it, then slams it behind her. With tears in her eyes, she rushes at me and whips her palm against my cheek.
"You don't know a damn thing about how I feel!"