If two years ago, you'd asked Kuri how she expected to spend her sweet sixteen, "making cupcakes in the UA dorm kitchen" would not have been remotely on her mind.

On a slow Friday afternoon, following a school day full of happy birthday wishes and presents, Kuri donned a cute, new dress and let her hair down just for fun. She drifted downstairs, wanting to get more into the birthday mood by making cupcakes to share with her friends. They had given her such nice gifts, so Kuri needed to return the favor. After a bit of struggle, thanks to Kuri's lack of experience in the kitchen, she whipped up a batch of chocolate cupcakes.

As the sweet aroma wafted through the common area, her classmates wandered over and discovered Kuri just as she was about to hand out her creations. After everyone upstairs was told Kuri had made something, it only took five minutes for all but one of the cupcakes to disappear. Hungry teenagers are no joke. Debate ensued over who should receive the last cupcake, some arguing Kuri should since it was her birthday until Kirishima brought up that Bakugo hadn't had one yet.

"He doesn't like sweets, though," Kuri said. She gulped, hoping the topic would be dropped and she wouldn't need to go find him. At Kuri's request, she and Katsuki hadn't conversed in two weeks, and she still didn't feel ready to get back to him.

"Doesn't hurt to ask," Kirishima shrugged, turning to leave along with the others. "And if he turns it down, you can just have it."

Kuri sighed and muttered a resigned agreement, then headed to the kitchen, opting to tidy up first as a way to stall. She wasn't averse to bantering with Bakugo, but knowing that he was still waiting for her promised explanation of her upsetness daunted Kuri to the core.

You wouldn't guess it, but she had her thoughts mostly figured out. Kuri knew she was mad about not understanding Bakugo's feelings for her. The solution would be to ask him how he felt about her and receive an honest answer. Unfortunately, the process of conveying her deepest thoughts and interrogating Bakugo about his feelings intimidated Kuri, so she continued to put off speaking with him.

Bakugo had been nice enough to her in the meantime, though. He greeted her when they passed each other in the hall—something he had never done before—while keeping a respectful distance, in line with Kuri's wishes. It frustrated Kuri how he had turned this new leaf right when she chose to separate from him. How dare he be so cute when she wasn't allowed to talk to him! Well, technically, nothing was stopping her except her stubbornness…

Recently, after listening to Kuri express her woes, Ochako remarked that Bakugo may get impatient if she stalled for too long. This instantly drove her into a panic, though Ochako tried to reassure her that it was unlikely. Kuri, despite wanting to believe her friend, started thinking that if she held out on resolving this issue any longer, Bakugo would realize she wasn't worth waiting for, and they would slowly drift apart. In an even worse scenario that Kuri had drafted in her head, Bakugo would approach her and say it was through, cutting her off forever. That one didn't make much sense, which Kuri knew, but she couldn't help her sinking dread.

With a sigh, Kuri put away the dishes she'd just cleaned. Maybe it would be best for them to end things—whatever they were. Friends? Crushes? Awkward bumbling idiots? It made no difference because none of it was what Kuri truly wanted. She was beginning to accept that coaxing a confession out of Bakugo was a fool's errand, so the prospect of dating was slim. But what's the point of maintaining a friendship with the guy you have an unrequited crush on if it's gonna be this stressful?

But is it unrequited?

Kuri didn't like that thought. It gave her too much hope—something she really didn't need in what seemed to be a losing game. But in spite of herself, she couldn't help but feel she was catching onto something. With every mutual stolen glance and shy hello, Kuri felt that Bakugo was attempting to use his clumsy boyish charm to woo her back into talking to him. Then again, her so-called intuition may have been clouded by her adoration for him.

Kuri shuffled back to the dining area, where the last cupcake awaited her. If only she and Bakugo could be like that cupcake: sweet and… okay, maybe the analogy ended there. Actually, their relationship was already like the cupcake: Kuri knew only she wanted it, and the longer she put off asking Bakugo if he wanted it, the staler it became.

She rested her arms on the countertop, staring at the little pastry. Kuri wished they could forget the past and start dating without problems, but that was far from possible. Still, she couldn't help imagining daily that they were happily in love, sappy and giggling to each other and all that jazz. Kuri sighed, knowing that wouldn't happen until she attempted to talk to him.

Kuri closed her eyes, laying her head on the table. She couldn't take it anymore. All this stress was getting to her, and she felt powerless, even though she was fully capable of changing her situation with just a few words. Her fear of rejection made it impossible, and Kuri felt newly upset at her cowardice.

Stupid cupcakes.


Katsuki sighed for what he approximated was the twelfth time since he'd stepped into his dorm room. He was working through his math homework (not the reason for his sighs) when suddenly his phone awoke with a text from Kirishima. Katsuki stared at the message, his brow furrowing in conflict.

"Kuri made cupcakes. You want one?"

Short and simple, as Kirishima's messages often were. Katsuki placed his phone back face down on the table, slid it away from him, then let out his thirteenth sigh. How was he gonna tell her?

Katsuki was sure of his love for Kuri, proud even, but he had yet to tell anyone else about these feelings. Now, months from the last time their relationship felt normal, Katsuki was unsure if his affection for Kuri would ever go public. There was one branching reason for this which created three issues for him: he was romantically inept.

The first issue his clumsiness spawned had its roots far in the past—even before he realized his feelings. Since they met, Katsuki often hurt Kuri emotionally and physically. From breaking her bones in hero class to his rude remarks (he was such a little shit in their first year…), Katsuki had quite the list of offenses. He couldn't imagine numbering all he'd done to slight her, but he knew his worst offenses occurred that day in the dreamscape. He passively watched her go ballistic, so Kuri was almost fatally injured. And then, as Katsuki tried to atone by treating her wound and bowing to her drunken urges, he let her kiss him. He shouldn't have told her about it…

The second issue also had to do with his past mistakes, namely that he fucked up at the pool and made Kuri think he was an asshole who asks stupid questions and then freezes up. Also, he forever created the idea for Kuri that he was not into her, which was the more pertinent problem. It prevented him from confessing because it would be another asshole move to suddenly go, "Hey, I love you and have for months without realizing it." Especially after whatever that kiss was about. Fuck, it always came back to that stupid kiss…

Recently, Katsuki wondered if Kuri might still be upset about the kiss. A couple weeks ago, when she had asked to take a break from him, Katsuki asked if he'd done something to upset her. Kuri's answer was still stuck in his brain: "No, not exactly." What the hell did that mean? It implied that Katsuki had, in fact, offended her, but he hadn't figured out how. But he couldn't ask her what was wrong since she asked for the break, so… one could imagine how fucking agonizing that would be.

Why did he always have to make such rash decisions? That was his third issue, originating from nowhere in particular; Katsuki was just stupid with love. It would be great if he could just confess, and they could be near each other again. And maybe he could get another kiss… But Kuri didn't want to talk to him yet. Katsuki was happy to do whatever she asked of him, but he was beginning to wonder how long he'd have to wait. He missed her so much… and she was in the same building as him.

With that thought, Katsuki grabbed his phone again and saw that he had a new notification from Kirishima, sent eight minutes ago.

"Kuri has one last cupcake downstairs for you."

Katsuki's heart leapt to his throat. She's waiting for me.

Katsuki got up and paced around his room, suddenly full of nervous energy. Inexplicably, he had the urge to go downstairs, accept the cupcake, and return the favor with a confession of his feelings. Wait, no.

He stopped pacing abruptly and fell back onto his bed, resting atop the sheets. Confessing to Kuri on her birthday could ruin the whole day for her. "Happy birthday, I like you too," was the shittiest thing he could say to her at the moment, considering everything he'd done to anger her pertained to confessions. But when could he do it? The next day? Next month? Next year?

With his track record, Katsuki was unsure there'd ever be an opportunity to regain Kuri's faith in him, let alone confess his feelings. Katsuki massaged his face, trying to rid the tension from his eyebrows as his muscles tried to contort into a worried frown. Maybe he was blowing things out of proportion, and Kuri didn't mind him at all. She tended to be forgiving but shy, so she might have resolved her thoughts without telling him. Even if that were so, Katsuki still had no idea what he'd say to Kuri. How do you tell someone you love them?

Damn it, he was no good at romance. He needed a second opinion on how to confess, but who was there to ask for advice? Kirishima was out because he didn't know shit either, and there was no way he could ask Deku. By virtue of Deku being himself, he didn't want to get help from him. Kaminari did have a girlfriend… but if Katsuki asked him for advice, everyone would know about it within the hour. In any case, he'd never ask someone to help him because that would be incredibly embarrassing.

Still, it didn't matter if he figured out how to confess because it wouldn't happen that day. Katsuki's first mission was to return his relationship with Kuri to what they'd had during the spring and early summer: that calm joy of each other's presence, a carefree friendship with Katsuki slowly realizing his feelings. If only the final steps toward his epiphany hadn't been so rough…

Katsuki sighed, then forced himself to sit up. At the very least, it would be good to go downstairs and wish Kuri a happy birthday. Then he'd take the cupcake (he hoped Kuri hadn't made it too sweet…) and maybe strike up a friendly conversation. That couldn't be very hard; he and Kuri had chatted numerous times as friends. The confession could wait for another day when he and Kuri already got along. Until then, a meaningful reconnection was enough.

Katsuki raced out of his room, knowing he needed to ride this adrenaline high before his cowardice overtook him, and he backed out. He called the elevator and stepped in, his uncertainty rising as he descended to the ground floor. The elevator doors opened, and Katsuki gulped, knowing this was his last chance to turn back. Combating his nervousness, he took a few quick steps into the common area and scanned for Kuri. When Katsuki's eyes landed on her, he swore his heart skipped a beat.

Kuri stood alone at the kitchen countertop, looking wistfully at a chocolate cupcake sitting on a napkin in front of her. Her hair was down, the chestnut curls obscuring part of her face. She gently tore her eyes away from the cupcake to glance where Katsuki stood. A flash of shock swiped past the back of her gaze, though she quickly masked it.

Katsuki started toward her, his determination dwindling with each step. This wavering will of his was involuntarily manifesting on his face, trying to twist his lips into a nervous frown, but Katsuki fought to at least keep a straight line. As he approached, Kuri began to scan around the room, keeping her eyes away from his. Katsuki stopped by the edge of the counter and was about to greet her before he was interrupted.

"Hey, you don't like sweet things, right?"

Katsuki blinked at Kuri in confusion as she reached for the cupcake. She glanced at him momentarily, prompting him to answer. What a strange way to start a conversation…

"Uh, right, I don't like them," Katsuki answered hesitantly. He glanced at the cupcake and back at Kuri. "But—"

"Okay, I'll eat this then," Kuri said before peeling the liner and taking a big bite. Katsuki didn't even have the chance to protest. As much as he disliked sweet food, he would've eaten it since Kuri made it. Katsuki flexed his hands frustratedly as Kuri continued to scarf down the cupcake. He watched with concern as Kuri seemingly tried to eat the cupcake in record time—and struggled to do so. Once finished, she grabbed the napkin from the counter and wiped her mouth in one quick motion. "Good day," she awkwardly croaked out. Kuri stiffly began to pace past, but Katsuki reached out a hand, shy of grabbing her shoulder.

"Wait, stop! I wanted to talk to you."

Kuri halted and twisted her body slightly toward him, but not all the way.

"About what?" she asked tentatively.

"Just… things," Katsuki sheepishly suggested, receiving flashbacks to every other disaster conversation where he came unprepared. He should've brought a script…

"I told you I'm not ready," Kuri said timidly as she eyed the elevator.

"When will you be?" Katsuki asked, hoping his desperation wasn't so recognizable in his voice. Kuri nervously fiddled with the fabric of her dress, tugging on a seam by her waist.

"I don't know," she shrugged. Kuri peered into his eyes, giving him an almost challenging look. "When are we both gonna stop being awkward?"

Katsuki gulped, and he let his eyes fall to the floor shamefully.

I know I'll never be cool with her even if I try…

Kuri sighed. "Let's figure this out another day. In the meantime, just try to forget all about me liking you." With a dismissive hand wave, she pivoted toward the elevator and resumed her retreat. "If it helps, I'll do the same."

Katsuki stepped after her, staring helplessly at Kuri's hair swishing back and forth with each step. In a voice just above a whisper, an unconstrained confession escaped him.

"But I can't."

Kuri and Katsuki both froze. He couldn't believe he let those words out. Now, they would inevitably cloud the already dense storm of confusion. Kuri tilted her head to look over her shoulder but refused to meet Katsuki's eyes.

"I don't know what that's supposed to mean, all things considered," Kuri muttered. She glanced at the elevator, then far to the right. Katsuki traced her line of sight to the couches, where some of their classmates were sitting. Kuri hopped over to them suddenly, and it took Katsuki a second to follow.

As he stopped behind her, he caught the beginning of her conversation with someone.

"Hey, Izuku," Kuri said in a voice much brighter than what she'd used with Katsuki. "Remember that thing we were planning for the school festival?"

God damn it, Deku…

Katsuki peered at the green-haired idiot from over Kuri's shoulder. He gave Deku a murderous glare.

"Thing…?" Deku said confusedly, taking a quick glance at Katsuki before focusing on Kuri. "Oh, yes! What about it?"

"I was thinking we should get more people on board. Then we'll definitely be able to do it," Kuri said. Katsuki vaguely wondered what the hell they were talking about but continued to stare daggers at Deku, telepathically threatening him to end the conversation or else.

"Sure!" Deku said enthusiastically. Then, he took another look at Katsuki. "But, I think Kacchan has something to say to you right now…"

Finally, Deku, you do something helpful.

Kuri sighed and gave Deku a small wave. "Talk to you later, Izuku."

Without warning, Kuri sprinted toward the dorm entrance. Shocked by the spontaneous getaway, Katsuki started after her a few seconds later. He chased her down the length of the common area. At the entryway, she paused to kick off her slippers and bust open the door. Katsuki nearly caught her, but she jumped out of his grasp as she slunk through the door. He abandoned his slippers to not dirty them and continued to follow Kuri into the front yard.

The wind blustered against Katsuki's face as he pursued Kuri down the path.

"Stop running!" Katsuki shouted, and to his surprise, Kuri slowed to a stop in the middle of the walkway. She didn't turn to face him.

As Katsuki carefully approached her, he noticed Kuri's hands curl into tight fists, which she pressed firmly against the sides of her body.

"You don't need to do all this if you're tired of me," Kuri shouted over the swirling wind. "Just say the word, and we can stop futilely trying to stay friends!"

"What?! That's not what I was trying to say!" Katsuki asserted. So that's what she thought? That he didn't want to be her friend anymore? Kuri had his intentions so backward it was almost hilarious.

Kuri finally turned to face Katsuki and looked at him with such fervor that he almost lost his train of thought. The wind tossed her hair to and fro, whipping her face and neck, yet Kuri's expression was unflinching.

"Then what are you trying to talk about?" she asked, confused and exasperated.

"Anything," Katsuki said. Kuri's eyebrows furrowed at this revelation. "I just want to talk to you."

"Why all of a sudden?" Kuri asked, crossing her arms. "You haven't talked to me for weeks."

"But you told me to leave you alone!" Katsuki exclaimed frustratedly. Kuri made a face of guilt, and she looked away from him.

"Crap, I know… Sorry." Kuri clung to her arms nervously and avoided Katsuki's eyes. "I just don't get you at all. It's so hard to feel normal talking to you anymore."

"Why's that?" Katsuki asked. If she told him what was wrong, he could resolve this long-drawn-out issue. Kuri frowned and looked back up at him through her eyelashes.

"Are you really going to make me bring it up?" she grumbled. Katsuki blinked confusedly, earning a sigh from Kuri. "The kiss! Why did you let me kiss you?! And don't give me some lame excuse!"

Oh, fuck.

This was not going according to plan. Not that there was a concrete plan. Still, Katsuki needed to salvage this but had no idea how. He was backed into a corner because his honest answer would be a confession but now wasn't the right time. Katsuki gulped and spewed the same bullshit from before.

"I—I don't know, you kissed me too fast!"

"Liar, you have better reflexes than that!" Kuri said with such certainty that Katsuki wondered if she had seen right through him all along. She glared at him accusingly, awaiting Katsuki's next defense. But he didn't have one, so instead, Katsuki stood there, lips pressed firmly shut, and looked at the pavement pathetically. She wouldn't have to know how he felt if he didn't speak.

Kuri huffed in annoyance and ran a hand through her hair. She scowled and brushed past him as she stormed back to the dorms. Katsuki whirled around, reaching out a hand for hers.

"Bunny, wait, I—"

"Don't call me that!" Kuri shouted, whipping her head around to reveal her fury. Kuri's words were a knife in his chest, but Katsuki still dragged himself after her. In a panic, he racked his brain for a few words that would please her. Something, anything to show he did care about her feelings.

"I'm sorry, Ku—Nakano," Katsuki mumbled. Please, Kuri, please don't hate me.

Kuri slowed to a stop, and Katsuki nearly bumped into her. Discontent rolled off her like ocean fog, chilling Katsuki to the bone.

"Everything was going fine until you showed up."

The knife in Katsuki's heart twisted, inflicting unbearable pain. She made him want to fucking cry, and he hated it. He hated how weak he was for her. Katsuki didn't know how to resolve things when Kuri adamantly iced him out. Was their relationship doomed? Should he just let her go?

Kuri began stomping away again. Each step agonizingly reminded Katsuki of how profoundly he'd failed. He didn't want to cry. Instead, he forced a glower onto his face. It hurt. It all hurt so badly.

"Fine!" Katsuki yelled. Kuri flinched but continued on the path. "I'll just fuck off!" Katsuki watched Kuri quicken her pace and slip inside the dorm with a loud slam of the door.

Katsuki realized his mistake slowly. For a few moments, after Kuri left, he stood still, glaring at the shut door from afar. Gales of wind hit Katsuki's face, the air chilling his nose. He shuddered, then reluctantly stumbled back toward the dorm. Kuri's words were still ringing in his ears, mixing with the breeze in an eerie cry. He had ruined everything. Katsuki dropped to the steps and slumped over, holding his head in his hands. God, had he fucked up.

His intention to repair their friendship had been completely upended. Katsuki had no other urge than to sit in utter defeat. He didn't even have the energy to cry. A pressure began to build in his chest as he realized how forlorn any further attempts would be. Katsuki couldn't possibly fix things now. He could only ache.

The quiet creaks of the door opening behind Katsuki startled him, but he stayed still. Fuck it, let whoever it is see me look like the fool I am. What else can I lose?

"Kacchan, did something happen out here?" Deku asked tentatively.

Ah, just the person Katsuki didn't want to see.

"Fuck off, Deku," Katsuki said through gritted teeth.

"Oh, so I see it was something bad." Katsuki heard Deku take a few steps further outside and shut the door.

Katsuki didn't have it in him to make another retort. Instead, he shielded his face from Deku's view and sat silently. He didn't want to have to yell anymore that day.

After a few moments of stillness, Deku suddenly sat down beside him. Under normal circumstances, Katsuki would have scooted away, but he felt inclined to stay. Since they were kids, Deku stuck to Katsuki like glue—much to his annoyance. But Katsuki could appreciate Deku's effort to comfort him or whatever. Even if he was a shitty nerd.

"Do you like her, Kacchan?"

Okay, what the fuck?

Deku's curveball query hit Katsuki square in the face. He gulped away the gut urge to reply. A burning sensation began in his cheeks and ears. No way would he tell Deku about how much he loved Kuri.

But then Deku inhaled in such a dramatic gasp it was like he was trying to imitate a vacuum. He exhaled with a laugh dripping in disbelief. Perhaps Katsuki's ears had been too red. He felt his face reach a temperature you could fry an egg with.

"Deku, what the hell is wrong with you…" Katsuki muttered, knowing even this attempted deflection would only further prove Deku's suspicions.

"Are you going to tell her today?" Deku asked.

Katsuki was reluctant to respond. He let a few seconds pass before responding flatly, "No."

"That's fair. Kuri didn't look too happy…"

"Damn it, I know I've fucked up!" Katsuki shouted as he let down his arms, realizing it was futile to hide anything from Deku. He was like some weird mind reader. "You can shut up now."

Katsuki glared at Deku, who blinked at him innocently.

"It's not too late to fix things," Deku said. "If you're as amazing as you always say, it'll be a breeze."

"Fuck you," Katsuki said for lack of a hole to find in Deku's reasoning. It was true that Katsuki was a strategic genius on the battlefield, so why couldn't he apply it to his floundering love life?

He recalled every time he'd engaged in a fight—whether against villains or his classmates during training. Most of the time, an opponent will act unprecedentedly, because it wasn't like Katsuki could predict everything. There were only so many situations where it worked to start with a right hook. Sometimes he had to try a different tactic. Shit, that was the answer!

Maybe he just needed to do something besides try talking to Kuri because it obviously hadn't worked yet. Why hadn't he thought of that before?

"I have an idea now," Katsuki said, darting to his feet.

"See you later, Kacchan," Deku said, waving. "I'm here whenever you need me."

Katsuki all but ran inside to the elevator, the whole way planning his message to Kuri. Considering how easily his conversations with Kuri could go downhill, Katsuki knew he couldn't risk saying some more nonsense to her. The only option that would prevent Katsuki from stammering his way to an apology or answer to the question Kuri posed about the kiss was to write it down.


Kuri gripped the fabric of her dress tightly as if relaxing her hands would spell the end of the world. She sped through the common area, making a beeline for the elevator. Her head stayed down, eyes focused on the wood grain to prevent unwanted contact with her peers. She tried taking slow breaths through her nose, hoping it would combat the itch beginning in the back of her throat. That strange, sore feeling that screamed, I want to cry. No, no, she mustn't. It was her birthday! If she was going to cry, it would at least be in private.

Kuri reached out a finger to jam the call button, praying the door would open quickly. Luckily, the elevator was already on the ground floor, and she entered within seconds. She scanned the room as she pressed "Fourth Floor" and "Shut Doors" in unison, relieved to see Bakugo hadn't followed her.

Once the doors closed, Kuri could feel the welling of tears. Only a few droplets had collected so far, but she knew there'd be more. She needed to hold them back until she was in her room because how would she explain her bawling to a passing classmate? She'd just made the biggest mistake of her life. That wasn't easy to admit, let alone on your birthday.

The elevator arrived, and Kuri leapt out before the doors fully opened. She ran to her room, and the door was open and shut in less than a second.

Then the tears came running.

I sure have made a mess of things.

Kuri slipped off her dirty socks and gingerly laid on her bed, curling into a fetal position. A tear rolled over the bridge of her nose and landed on the sheets. It made a dark spot on her comforter, which Kuri poked at.

Kuri was fundamentally fearful. She feared the future in store for her, she feared her family's disappointment, and she feared abandonment by those she loved. That final concern had just caused her to unnecessarily yell at her friend/crush, following a series of mental gymnastics.

Since the second Bakugo appeared, Kuri flipped into a frenzy. His nervously furrowed brow and lack of a smile did nothing to calm Kuri, especially with her far-fetched fear that he'd end their friendship fresh in her mind. In fact, that worry was so pervasive she began to believe it was actually what Bakugo had come to say. At the very least, Kuri assumed Bakugo was bringing news she had no desire to hear.

So she ran. Well… tried to run. And when that didn't work, she deflected Katsuki's questions with those of her own. And when he continued to follow her, she tried to escape. Kuri wasn't sure what possessed her to sprint out of the building like a bat out of hell. Perhaps it was her growing annoyance with Bakugo, who couldn't seem to take the hint that she wanted him to leave her alone. Yes, Kuri loved him more than she could bear, but that was exactly why she needed him gone on her birthday. Why would he come to interrogate her when this was her time to chill and be happy?

But… he hadn't come to interrogate her, Kuri remembered. That was just her misconception. In reality, she'd said more than necessary and finally revealed that she was still mad about the kiss. It would've been more relieving to get that off her chest had Bakugo actually answered her question. Why did he keep making excuses for not pushing her away? Kuri didn't dare hope it meant something good.

In her mounting frustration, Kuri snapped at Bakugo. She hadn't meant what she said, but immaturely, she wanted to hurt him the way he hurt her. Kuri knew she'd messed up when Bakugo responded in anger. She couldn't remember the last time he raised his voice at her.

Kuri choked out a sob, and more tears spilled from her sockets. She grabbed the closest stuffed animal and buried her face in the soft fabric of its tummy. Kuri laid there for a while, wallowing in shame and regret and crying until her nose got clogged. Eventually, she grabbed a tissue box to clean herself up.

Was Bakugo playing with her feelings? She could never figure this question out, and it had plagued her for months. He asked if she loved him, then iced her out when she confessed. He let her kiss him, then said it was an accident. He came downstairs to "talk," and then he yelled at her, though Kuri could admit she provoked him.

Kuri grabbed a tissue to blow her nose and another to dab at her eyes. She sniffled loudly and exhaled shakily. What a mess she was. Bakugo was certainly not the type to play around with emotions. Kuri overthought too much for her own good, and from her worries alone, she'd managed to convince herself that Bakugo was out to hurt her when he likely wasn't.

Kuri tossed the dirty tissues across the room to her trash can, just barely making it in. This awkwardness had gone on for too long. She needed to stop being childish and resolve things, whether or not she felt comfortable doing so. She had to get over her anxiety about how Bakugo might respond and focus on how to apologize.

The problem was that she had known this was the solution for weeks yet failed to carry it out, again and again. She kept waiting for "the right time," all the while knowing it would never arrive. Another round of bawling battered her body, and Kuri hugged her knees. She wanted to be braver than this. She wanted to say sorry. She wanted to tell him that she still loved him.

I don't want to be afraid. I want to be with Katsuki. Katsuki—not Bakugo. I won't avoid him anymore. I need to get closer to him.

Her frustrated sobs echoed in the silent room, and Kuri drew her sheets over her shoulders. She needed to calm down before she went about talking to Katsuki again. She'd figure out something to say in a little while. Her eyelids drooped, and Kuri rested where she was. The rhythm of her breathing slowed, and there was quiet in the dimness.

Kuri wasn't sure how much time had passed when she heard the sound of rustling from outside her door. She'd gotten bored of sitting in silence after a while and was occupied with her phone. She looked up from the screen to her door, half-expecting someone to open it, but instead, something was shoved underneath.

Kuri squinted at the sheet of lined paper on the floor and hopped off her bed, taking the comforter with her. She kneeled beside the page, picked it up, and gasped upon giving it a once-over. It was very clearly Katsuki's handwriting. Kuri crept closer to the door and peeked through the crack underneath it. She could not see much of anything, but intuition told her that Katsuki was outside waiting for her.

Kuri glanced at the paper crinkling in her hand, then sat against the door. Her heart was beating out of her chest in anticipation. Kuri gulped, ready to face whatever words Katsuki had for her. She clutched her comforter with her free hand, tightening the embrace around her shoulders, and began to read.

Kuri, there's a lot I want to tell you, but I can't seem to say any of it right, so I'm writing this. Let's hope it isn't complete shit and incomprehensible because I want to apologize for a list of things.

One, I'm sorry for yelling at you earlier. You're a sweet friend, and I wouldn't want to hurt your feelings. I care a lot about what you think about me, perhaps too much for my good, so I said shitty stuff because it kinda sounded like you hate me. Earlier, you seemed to assume I approached you to end our friendship, but that wasn't it. I think you're fun, and even if we haven't talked in a while, I wanna stay around you.

Two, I'm sorry for ever letting you kiss me. It's hard to even write this because it's so fucking embarrassing that it happened… I guess I should admit that I sorta did lie about not having time to push you away. To be honest, I didn't know what to do (I know, surprising coming from me). Your advances came out of nowhere, and I froze up. I don't know how to explain it. The dreamscape was messing with my head, but it did help me make some realizations.

Three, I'm sorry for not wishing you a happy birthday earlier. That was the whole point of me going downstairs. Also, I would've eaten the cupcake if you offered… If you ever make any again, I'll sample one. You probably just think I'm a shitty person based on all I've done to you since we met, even if we are friends, but I do want to be nice. At the very least, you make me feel like I should be because I'm not sure I deserve to be your friend otherwise.

Lastly, I'm sorry that there is one last thing I'm too afraid to tell you. I know I'm a coward for it, so this may be my one and only flaw. I'm sure you would want to know it, but there is a small voice in the back of my mind that tells me things will end disastrously if I tell you. There are a lot of things in this world I want to protect, one of which is what we have going on. However, I have promised myself that I will tell you eventually. I don't want to lose you in my life, so please (and this is humiliating to ask), don't give up on me yet. I am irrevocably attached to you, and it may be selfish of me to ask you to wait, but you've made it clear you feel the same way. Okay, I think I'm saying too much. I'm unsure if I'll even give this to you.

Whatever, sorry for being shitty on your birthday. I'll make it up to you. But until then, happy sixteenth.

Katsuki

(P.S. If you don't want me to call you Bunny anymore, feel free to suggest something new)

Tears of joy streamed down Kuri's face, gliding over her cheeks and splashing onto the page. Her free hand was cupped over her mouth in disbelief, as she was almost reluctant to accept these words as Katsuki's own. Her eyes darted up and down the page, scanned for something she missed. It couldn't be…

Without a shadow of a doubt, Katsuki was in love with her. Kuri didn't even think it was a reach to declare this. His prose made it so painfully obvious that he wanted her but couldn't quite express that feeling. Her elation took her to the clouds, and Kuri closed her eyes to release more of the dewdrops on the cusp of slipping out. This was the right time.

Kuri cast her comforter aside and threw open her door. She watched Katsuki scramble to his feet, as he was indeed sitting right beside the door the whole time.

"I knew you were out here," Kuri chuckled. Her voice sounded a bit congested from all the crying, and Katsuki seemed to notice. His remorseful eyes shied to the floor before darting a concerned glance towards Kuri's face. Her eyes were probably rimmed with red, and she could feel the stickiness of dried tears on her face. Katsuki noticed and dropped his eyes again. Inexplicably, Kuri laughed at his awkwardness. "Don't be a stranger."

Katuski murmured an apology and glanced at her again. Kuri stepped further out into the hall and closed her door.

"Thanks for the letter," Kuri said, holding it up with a smile. She gave it a small wave. "It cleared things up a lot."

Kuri saw the tension in Katsuki's shoulders abate.

"I'm glad," he said, cracking a small smile. "And, uh, sorry for never making sense. And for yelling."

"I'm sorry for yelling, too," Kuri said, holding the letter with both hands now. She folded it in half. "It was mean of me."

"It's fine. I get that you were upset," Katsuki said. "I won't hold it against you."

Kuri was astounded by his forgiveness. Man, how she wanted to hug him… She wasn't sure if that was appropriate, though. He didn't seem ready to confess his feelings, though it was pretty damn obvious now. He was so cute…

"By the way, don't worry about taking a while to tell me whatever it is. I'll still be here for you," Kuri said with a wink. Katsuki's face reddened, and he awkwardly stuffed his hands in the pockets of his sweatshirt. Kuri smirked. He might be fun to tease from now on. "So, about the repayment for ruining my birthday… Wanna go get ice cream with me?"

Katsuki raised an eyebrow. "On a windy day in October?"

"Duh, that's the perfect time for it! Oh, and you can keep calling me Bunny," Kuri said with a reassuring smile. "I don't actually mind."

"Oh." Katsuki looked taken aback for a second. "Good to hear."

"So," Kuri said, tucking Katsuki's letter into her pocket with a grin. "You up for some sweets?"

"Why not?" Katsuki replied, letting a grin caress him. "Let's go, Bunny."

Kuri beamed and skipped down the hall with Katsuki by her side. As she hit the elevator call button, she breathed a sigh of relief. Despite the tears and the yelling, it was a good birthday in the end.