Chapter 27 – Confessions
The three of them stared awkwardly at each other for a moment. A sudden gust of wind blew Uraraka's hair in her face, and she flustered to swipe it away.
"Please-" she began insistently, still pulling a strand of sticky hair from the corner of her mouth. "I-"
"No, listen," interrupted Ashido, "You don't understand-"
"Shut up!" Burst Bakugou. "Gods, leave me alone. I gotta think. Fuck. Give me some time."
He rushed past them, down the narrow rampart stairs and into the courtyard, pulling up his cloak around his face as he went.
Enveloped in the heavy air, the two girls remained to stare, ever more awkwardly, at one another. The bell on Uraraka's neck chimed.
"I'm sorry that it had to be this way." said Ashido. She turned her eyes back towards the horizon, and Uraraka could tell that she meant it. "I don't dislike you, I hope you know."
"I don't dislike you either" mumbled the queen. The shock of conversation she had overheard was still buzzing about in her head.
She adjusted her coat. Her heart was beating fast.
"I… Er, can we talk?"
"What, now? Sure. But I'd like to stay up here. I like the view, y'see."
"Perfect, thank you. Yes, thank you…" She trailed off, and took a deep breath in. It was still difficult to believe that this was all happening. "What you said, what Katsuki said, was it true?"
Ashido snorted rather dismissively. The sense of goodwill between them was diminishing as she scanned the clouds and valleys below, leaning further away.
"Why wouldn't it be? We didn't have the conversation for you, y'know."
"So, by 'object of affections', did you mean…?"
"Yes, I did mean you."
"Then do you think," her heart was racing "that there's a chance he would stay for me?"
"There's a risk."
Uraraka bit her lip. She was overwhelmed. She was elated, and terribly guilty that it came at a cost to Ashido's friendship.
"I'm sorry, Mina. I don't want him to go. I don't want you to take him from me."
The pink girl turned around once more to face her. She was not smiling, and her brows rested in a calm, straight line.
"It's not my decision, your highness."
"Yes, yes I suppose."
"And now it's my turn to ask some questions."
"Erm, alright then?"
"Do you have feelings for Kastuki?"
Uraraka felt her cheeks glow with heat. Even put in such uncertain terms, she knew that she could only agree.
This was not the first time that she had been confronted with the idea that she wanted more than friendship from her husband. Well, more than friendship, and holding hands, and the occasional performative kiss. The revelation, which returned to her a few times a day, has actually seemed rather trivial. She wanted to be patient, careful. She wanted to savour the feeling. She wanted to do things right. It had been so long since being in love had felt so good.
He was kind to her, but always in such a supportive manner that she felt stronger in his presence, rather than condescended to. He was thoughtful, and caring. He was good at talking openly, and dispelling her concerns. The matter of the fruit was so lovely that it had initially been bewildering; she had never expected him to pay so much attention to her feelings, to act so selflessly. And of course, she couldn't deny that she found him incredibly pleasing to look at.
No matter how giddy she felt when he held her, or how she longed to monopolise him, to spend her evenings quietly in his company, she had been determined to take things slowly. She had had the vague idea that she would have to plan some grand, well-coordinated method of making him fall for her, and then boldly confessing her feelings.
And yet, she was now confronted with the knowledge that her time with him might be coming to an end. There was no time for planning. More than that; a plan was unnecessary. He liked her back- it could even be love. And if it was love, it was now in competition with his greatest friendship…
She turned her attention back to Ashido, and found that she had been patiently waiting for an answer the whole time. A breeze had begun to blow, but it was humid, overbearing.
"Next question." the pink girl said "Since the answer to that one was pretty obvious anyway. Would you be able to take care of Katsuki? Would you treat him well?
"Yes, yes of course!"
"You're gonna need to elaborate a little"
Uraraka's mouth twitched at the corner as her face reddened ever deeper.
"Er, what?"
She did not feel that it was particularly appropriate for her to wax lyrical about her romantic desires in front of the best friend of the target of those same romantic desires. Nor did she wish to do so.
Ashido noticed this, and huffed with annoyance.
"Fine." She threw her pink hands up "I'm not fighting with you and I'm not going to be sneaky about trying to convince Katsuki. Whatever. Just don't be mistaken about the kind of guy he is."
"Why thank you, I shan't!" retorted the queen, and she turned on her heel and marched off indignantly.
She found it horribly unfair that she was once again fighting with Ashido over her husband and the perception of her character, and now that she was on her own again her confidence had begun to fade. How could she divine what Bakugou wished for? Would staying with her, in this dilapidated castle, on this freezing glacier, make him happy? Would it, in the long term, make her happy?
Once she had come down the rampart steps, she wandered mindlessly (or perhaps too full of mind; she was so engrossed in dissecting her feelings that she left her feet to take themselves wherever they pleased…) through the courtyards and gardens.
The rounded arches of the colonnade were here and there enamelled in a case of waxy green climbing vines that glistened and shimmered in the sun. Some of the vegetables that she had planted were in flowering season, and their bright blooms sprayed chaotically from the flowerbeds. In amongst the shocking gold trumpets of the squash flowers, the slender stems of fluffy white scallion and purple leek blossoms poked between the leaves to reach for the light, swaying on their precarious scaffold. Blue carpenter bees buzzed about, spreading the medicinal smell of pollen as they danced between the stamen.
If only Uraraka had not been so wrapped up in her thoughts – she would have appreciated these beautiful things.
XXX
At dinner that night, Uraraka and Bakugou were both trying exceptionally hard to act unbothered by the afternoon's revelation, and neither were particularly successful. Nor, for that matter, did the others at the table seem to be unaffected.
Ashido had calmly and politely informed the rest of the castle-dwellers of her ultimatum whilst they set the table, and they had been quick to take sides. Yaoyorozu was adamant that Bakugou must stay, as he was a valuable advisor on national policy, and Todoroki agreed with her mostly out of force of habit. Iida had initially been indifferent, but turned coat to vehemently defend Uraraka when he saw that she felt strongly about it. Still, he gave her a stern look as she slowly supped her soup.
She felt a little guilty under his gaze. After all, she was rather kicking up a fuss. At that moment on the ramparts, she had called to him out of shock, pure emotion. Only later had she realised that there would be implications for the whole kingdom. Since then, she had attempted to couch all of her arguments in logical, diplomatic terms, but these had very little effect on Bakugou. He seemed disappointed in her.
Her gaze turned towards Midoriya, who was sat next to Todoroki as usual. He had been the only one of her friends to withhold his judgement, and was successfully carrying on as usual.
Being summer, the large windows of the dining hall were still full of light, scattering colours across the table. On the wall, the tints of the stained glass were muddled into swirling puddles, occasionally rippled by the silhouette of an eagle flying past. But on the table, the effect was less attractive. The shades were all wrong; Midoriya was red, and Iida was yellow, and Uraraka was pooled in emerald green. Green, like the vines and the garden, and like jealousy, which is of course desire itself.
As they were clearing up after dinner, she carefully shifted around the kitchen to follow Midoriya, trying to catch his eye. In this matter she did not succeed, but she must have somehow peripherally caught his attention, for he now announced that he could clear up on his own, and insisted on shooing the others away. This completed, he turned back to the sink to smile gently at the dishes he was washing up.
"This is about Bakugou's leaving, isn't it?" he said quietly.
She coughed as a cloud of cinders puffed up from beneath her broom. The neat pile of ashes that she had been brushing together dispersed across the floor once more.
"Yes." She coughed once more to clear her throat. "What do you think of the whole thing?"
"I think he should leave if he wants to." Midoriya replied simply. He set aside the clean plates with a clink. "Although I don't think that's the answer you're looking for."
"Izuku, he's your friend, isn't he? Don't you care about this?"
"He's not really my friend. And I do care."
He finished putting away the plates that he had washed, and turned around to face her. She had stopped sweeping, and stood, clutching her broom in the shadow of the fireplace.
"I care about you." He smiled, but the breathiness of his words betrayed a slight exasperation "I came up this mountain for you, Ochaco. I moved my life to be there for you. If you're going to rule here forever, then I'll stay with you forever. You know that. You know that Momo and Tenya would do the same."
"Thank you." Breathed Uraraka, and the words were automatic; she had spoken them before realising it. "I couldn't- I couldn't have lasted the winter without you. And I'm so grateful, I'm so so grateful."
Midoriya's wide eyes softened. He shook his hands of water and walked over to be near her, to wrap his wiry arms around her and sway as she shook slightly. He quietly shushed her when she protested.
"I'd do it again, I promise. You're my dearest friend. But can't you see- that's why it's so hard that you like him."
Uraraka was suddenly snapped to her senses. She pried Midoriya's arms away just enough to toss the broom aside, then wrapped him in a hug of her own. She felt the weave of his thick tunic as she stroked his back.
"I'm sorry." She said
"No, no, that's not what I want" he shook his head, which was curled over her shoulder "I know you can't help it. It's just- it's just hard. You know what he did to me when we were young. And now he's changed enough to apologise, and that's good, that's fine, but he's still so vicious when he's angry. You can't- I won't let him hurt you."
"He won't, he won't."
"How can you be sure? I know him. If you beg him to stay, he will, because it will make him feel powerful. Then when the winter comes, and he's stuck inside, he'll think of what he could have become. He'll be resentful. He will blame you for what could have been. And then he'll be cruel, Ochaco."
"He won't. We made a promise, a pact."
"Don't ask him." He continued, as if he had not heard her "Please, please. You have to let him go if he wants to. I can't lose you to a neglectful husband." He began to sob quietly, and she remembered the fragments that he had told her about his mother. "Not to him."
She held him tight. As he curled over her, and she smelled the oil in his tears, and she realised that she had been unkind to him. She had resented the pity she saw always in his eyes, but was that not a kind of love?
Was his concern for her not born out of sympathy? How could he not have regarded her with pathos, wretched as she had been when he had first come to her? She needed him. She had been so eager at first to take Bakugou's condescension, his pity, his care, precisely because she hadn't cared whether he would live or die. And yet Midoriya, for whom she had sworn a great friendship, she had resented. It was not his fault that he had not loved her back.
"Oh Izuku," she sighed, and she found that a few tears had already spilled over her eyelashes as she buried herself in him "thank you. For everything."
They stood in the fading light, crying in each other's arms, for some time. The second sun approached the horizon, its reddish glare filling the room as though the dying fire in the hearth had escaped physical form, had crept about to spread warmth over every surface.
Uraraka pulled herself away, but kept a hand on his shoulder.
"Forget the cleaning." She said "Let's go somewhere."
Midoriya squirmed a bit. He really was astoundingly well-mannered. She laughed at him. He relented.
So it was that they sat on the pillows in the Hall of Stars, gossiping. A bluish mist floated around them, and above the ceiling emitted the faint greenish glow of a half-formed aurora borealis. As they talked, there arose periodically the soft chirring and twittering of the castle walls, and the rustle of the woven leaves on the carpet. It was as though they were listening in, and laughing, and talking amongst themselves. The moon rose in the sky, and the night was calm and quiet.
They lay on their backs, staring at the duplicate night sky, watching their breath cloud in the damp air. The aurora overhead undulated and folded upon itself like a ribbon caught in a stream.
"I could never have imagined that we'd end up here." Midoriya said after a time.
"Could anyone? What did you think that you'd do when you were young, and you failed your first Abrassan initiation?"
"The elders wanted me to be a tanner or a fisherman. Probably a tanner. They're not very well respected over there."
Uraraka laughed.
"I just wanted to escape. I'm so glad I did. I'm so glad I met you."
"I'm glad too. Abrassa was no good."
"Sometimes I wonder whether I should go back, and change things. But my hatred of the place always outweighs my altruism."
"Well, it's not your responsibility. You're doing a lot here as well. And what about Shouto?"
Midoriya paused, and shifted his hands to prop up his head.
"What do you mean?"
"Well, you like him don't you?"
He paused again. She could tell that he was thinking in that slow, deliberate way of his.
"I think so." He sighed "I just don't know how he feels. I don't know how I'll feel once I know. I never thought that I'd love someone, let alone a man."
She rolled over to smile at him.
"If you end up wanting to get married, I'm sure Tsuyu will do it. She has experience." she grinned.
He blushed.
"Well, I'm not sure…"
Uraraka laughed a little harder, and the walls and the eaves stirred and chattered as the ceiling glowed bright. The murmur continued even as she caught her breath, then abruptly stopped.
Outside, the silent night had been splintered by heavy footsteps. The sound approached, snaking around the intertwining corridors. As it reached the door, Midoriya made the sudden decision to dive behind a pile of pillows and curl up.
Uraraka sat up, leaning on her hand, and gawked at him in bewilderment before being blinded by a shock of sapphire and gold brilliance, and shielding her face with her hand.
When a moment had passed, she carefully pulled her hand back and saw that Bakugou was stood in the doorway, half-dressed. His head was tilted up to the ceiling, where a shimmering river of honey cleaved the sky in twain. Shivering darts of celestial flame popped and fizzled away, breaking free. A handful of sparks fell down and ballooned into dust as they settled on the pillows below. Finally, he looked down at her.
She couldn't help but stare back at him. A swathe of whitish fur was slung hap-hasardly across his bare torso, which was made all the more naked by the absence of his usual jewellery. His hair was still a little wet.
"Hullo, cheeks" he said, with a suspicious air.
"Hello" she replied "what's the matter?"
"Someone's in here, aren't they?"
She didn't reply, and he began to walk towards her, sniffing the air in a faintly comedic manner as he went. She was caught between infatuation and hilarity.
"Deku?" he snapped.
The pile of pillows twitched.
"Get out of there." Bakugou continued "I ain't mad. Just get out of there."
Midoriya crawled reluctantly from his hiding place and went to sit next to the queen.
"You do sound mad, Kacchan." He said.
"Well, I'm not." He huffed, although he seemed rather caught off guard, and coughed into his hand "I just wanted to talk to my wife. But you can stay if you want."
Midoriya raised his eyebrows incredulously at Bakuogou's uncharacteristic choice of vocabulary.
"I'll stay, then."
Bakugou grunted in response. He stood standing, staring at them both with a frown, until Uraraka had the good sense to pat a pillow next to her, and he went and sat down. Uraraka blushed. She liked being his wife, and she liked having this secret bond with him, but this particular moment between them was not at all secret. Midoriya's presence was both heartening and awfully, awfully embarrassing.
Bakugou held his hands, massaging the knuckles, his eyebrows pulling into ever more extreme contortions as he thought. The writhing of the orange galaxy above threw a bigarade zig-zag over his eyes.
"Will you be ok if I go?" He said quietly.
"Yes, very." Cut Midoriya cheerfully.
"I wasn-" snapped Bakugou, before realising that Uraraka was glaring at him. He restarted "I mean, what do you think, chee- Um, Ochaco?"
"Lasandu will manage without you." She managed.
She felt her heart sink. It was true, but it was not what she wanted to convey. Bakugou put his hands over his face and leaned over, obscuring his expression.
"Would you… be happier without me?"
"You know that I wouldn't. You know that I enjoy our time together."
Bakugou looked up at her, narrowing his eyes. Were his cheeks reddening, or was it a trick of the mercurial, coppery light?
Beside her, Midoriya broke into a wide smirk, and upon seeing it Bakugou scowled and pulled at the fur around him.
"Does he have to be here?"
"It's his choice. It was your choice to start talking to the both of us, anyhow."
"I'm not talking to him-"
"I can tell, actually." Broke Midoriya. His head was resting on his hands as he sat, unmoved.
"… I need to talk to you."
He sighed. She heard something pinch in his voice. He looked at her pleadingly, lifting an arm but not daring to touch her.
"Don't you… Want me to stay?"
Her heart fluttered with a pang. She swelled with hope and yet didn't dare ask for it. She felt the gaze of her first love, heavy on her side. She shook her head. He tightened his lips and began to speak, but she cut him off.
"I want you to want to stay. Don't you?"
"I do- I do- but," he looked away "Fuck-"
Midoriya rolled his eyes. Underneath them, the woven borders of the carpet wobbled for a moment.
"Why would you, or wouldn't you, want to stay?" he interjected.
"Mina and Eiji are my closest friends. I don't know what I'd do without them. When you left Capcana, you didn't have to leave Tenya behind, did you? You've never had to make this kind of decision, Deku."
"I left my mother behind." He said coldly.
Bakugou scratched his head. Midoriya continued.
"Your friends are leaving, and now you're stuck because you can't decide whether there's enough here worth staying for."
"… I guess."
"You're obviously not here for me. But what about Ochaco?"
Her heart leapt in her throat. She felt the pressure of their eyes.
"What about me?"
There was a pause. Bakugou swore.
"Does Deku have to fucking be here?!"
"I'm helping you, Kacchan." Hissed Midoriya. "What is it that you came here to say?"
Bakugou looked away.
"Tell her!" The smaller boy was at once condescending and tender.
"Gods, leave me alone. Can you go stand in a corner or something?"
Midoriya stood up and, for want of a corner, cut through the mist to lean on the far wall of the circular room. He crossed his arms and looked on sternly.
Ochaco looked at Bakugou. The king looked at the queen. He gently took her hand in his, and her pulse went fizzy. His red eyes gleamed, and all throughout his chest she thought she could detect a kind of tension.
"Moon fa- no, Ochaco. Ochaco. I love you." A shudder of pleasure ran through her. Her heart raced. Above them there was a red burst of lambency. "I'd like it if we were proper husband and wife. I'd like to spend more time together, and- and go on dates."
She stared at him wide-eyed, trying to savour and to understand the moment. His ruby eyes gleamed wet and shone bright. He was bathed all in the fire of the heavens above them. The blue mist wrapped around them was turning purple in the light. There they were, hand-in-hand, engulfed in a living sunset, and in love, and admitting it for the first time. Her heart soared.
"Ochaco?" Bakugou ventured quietly. The rubescent light could not disguise the blush on his cheeks, which was darkened by his tan.
"Yes?" She replied, awoken from a daze "Oh, yes! I love you too, and I'd like to do things properly. With you, I mean."
Bakugou grinned. He leaned forward and put his forehead to hers. She felt the heat of his blush spreading through the contact.
"Nice." He said.
She hummed in agreement. They stayed there, enjoying the soft warmth of their half-embrace for a few beats, until they were broken from their reverie by a noise from the far wall. Midoriya was lightly clapping.
"Good job guys." He said somewhat sarcastically. "Wasn't that easy?"
"Shut your mouth." Bakugou retorted.
"Oh, be nice, husband dear."
"Please be quiet." The husband in question reformulated. "And thanks or whatever."
Midoriya folded his arms again and gave them a tired smile.
"My pleasure." He said. He pushed himself off of the wall and headed towards the door. "Congrats, Ochaco! Fuck you, Kacchan."
They stared at him with astonishment. He smiled and gave Bakugou the middle finger before leaving. To add to the strangeness of the scene, he had the politeness to bow and close the door behind him. They could not help but laugh.
Above them, the sky wobbled. The subtle green and pink of Midoriya's aurora washed away, and now all that remained was the luminescent carmine clouds of their love. The honeyed streams and scattered stars had remained, but paled in comparison to the radiant petal-folds of the cosmic dust-clouds that had formed between the two brightest stars in the night: the red south flickered petulantly, whilst the bluish north star glowed serenely. All this they took in as they looked up, still breathless from their gaiety.
"Nice." Huffed Bakugou.
Uraraka laughed.
"Nice." She said. "Is that all you're able to say?"
"Fucking nice. Smashing," he retorted "I am feeling most jubilant, your majesticity- Is that what you want me to say?"
"No, no."
She sat staring at him. She had thought of another thing to ask him, which was: would he like to come and sleep in her room tonight? But she was too shy, and too sensible to say it. She was tired, and wanted to rest. Moreover, she harboured a secret fear of doing something that she might regret and which might feed her future heartbreak.
So instead, she said: "shall we go to bed?" and they got up and walked their separate ways at the foot of the winding tower stairs.
That night, she lay in bed a while, unable to sleep. She was restless. She was overjoyed, but her happiness could only temporarily distract her from her newfound anxiety. Uraraka had found love, and held it now in her hands… and because she held it, she could also lose it, and that was worse than never having had it at all.
Still, her decision to sleep alone had been the correct one, for as she struggled to calm her uneasy mind, she came upon a marvellous idea. So marvellous, in fact, that it would come to change the future of all of her friends, and Lasandu, and perhaps the entire world, forever.