**I do not own these characters or the world, that belongs to our lovely author of MHA, Kohei Horikoshi. Also, cover art was a commission by me from the artist Krumbs. Follow them on if you'd like! They are extremely talented!

Sixteen
Mr. Aizawa Is Gonna Be Pissed

Something was tapping her cheek, a little too harshly for her liking. The vague sound of something deep and growly came next, followed by the realization that the back of her head and her right cheekbone ached. What had happened?

Ochako slowly opened her eyes, the vision blurry on the right side. Her right eye felt wrong, puffy or swollen perhaps? There was dim light coming in from what she assumed was a nearby window, indicating that the sun had at least partially risen. When her vision cleared ever so slightly, she could make out the ceiling above her, which meant she was lying on her back. She identified what looked like a belt—not one that belonged to her—floating well above her. Had she done that? She couldn't remember touching that let alone why that would be in her room. Wait, she was in her room, wasn't she?

Slowly the events of the previous night filtered back to her with painful slowness. She remembered studying, watching awful birthing videos, falling asleep, waking to find Bakugo sleeping on her shoulder, some half thought out scheme to get him up to his room because it was something that Deku would've done, she remembered Jiro with her…Jiro! Jiro had been with her! Where was Jiro?

More memories flooded her mind then. Using her quirk to get both Bakugo and Jiro into his room, lining him up over his bed and then the release going wrong. Jiro had fallen—she remembered that much—but she must've fallen too. Had she tripped? She couldn't remember it all that clearly.

Where's Jiro? She thought in a panic and then shot up like a rocket, her eyes desperately seeking her friend. Sitting up quickly was a mistake. The world seemed to tilt and her ears suddenly started ringing. Too fast, way too fast, she thought and suddenly felt nauseated, stars starting to dot the corners of her vision.

"Too fast, idiot. Lie back down," instructed an annoyed and gruff voice.

Despite her head spinning and nausea churning in her stomach, Uraraka whipped her head in the direction that the voice had come from. She knew that voice and sure enough crouched at her side just an arm's length away was a foul looking Bakugo. The rapid head turn did nothing to help her light headedness and blackness briefly overcame her vision.

"Get back down moron," commanded Bakugo and she felt a hand push into her shoulder, forcing her down. At the same time, she felt another hand cradle her neck and head to prevent it from hitting the floor too hard. She thought she remembered him wearing a sling, why was he using both his arms now?

Once she was back on her back and still, her head started to settle and her vision returned. She really must've hit her head. But where was Jiro? If she was here in his room then that meant she'd never gotten out and Jiro likely hadn't either. They both must've gone down around the same time.

"Aside from the obvious question of why the hell are you in my room, what the fuck happened in here?" Bakugo asked sternly. His voice was a little softer than she expected, though that could be because her hearing wasn't entirely functioning at 100%.

Cautiously, Uraraka rolled her head in the direction that she last remembered Jiro being. Jiro wasn't there but there was a small amount of pooled and drying blood there. She saw what looked like a couple of bloody footprints that led to the door. So, Jiro must've woken up and wandered out the door? Why didn't she wake Ochako then? Probably because she had a head injury like you do and wandered out in confusion, an internal voice suggested. That made Uraraka's stomach churn with anxiety. Was Jiro okay?

"I fell asleep downstairs on the couch and so did you but when I woke up you were asleep on my shoulder," she felt a blush rise to her cheeks and closed her eyes, unable to look at her crimson eyed classmate and what she imagined was disgusted judgement on his face. "I didn't want to wake you up because, I uh, I thought you'd be mad, so I well, I used my quirk and made you weightless but I didn't think that leaving you there was a good idea so I had Jiro help me bring you to your room. Things get blurry there. I released you and Jiro—I made her weightless too, it's a long story—she came down too hard and hit her head I think, and I tripped and," she paused and raised her hand up to her cheekbone, it stung and felt painful, "I think I must've hit my cheek and head. That's all I remember."

Bakugo let out an irritated sigh. This time Uraraka did look at him and wasn't remotely surprised to see that he did in fact look disgusted but also annoyed. Great, not only is he annoyed he also thinks you're stupid, she thought to herself miserably. She briefly noted that he was no longer wearing his sling, which either meant that it was officially Monday or that he'd decided he didn't need it anymore…or both.

"You idiot! You should've just woken me up instead of coming up with some piss poor plan involving your stupid quirk that clearly blew up in your face," he huffed and glared at her, "Even if I had been pissed and exploded your face, it'd still be less of a mess than what you've done to yourself. Moron."

Ochako sighed. She couldn't exactly argue with him. In retrospect, she should've just risked waking him and the verbal tongue lashing that he'd give her. Instead, she had come up with a poorly thought-out plan that had ultimately landed her on the floor with what was probably a concussion and almost certainly a black eye. Who knew what had happened to Jiro.

Tears threatened to start and she stubbornly fought them back. She would not cry in front of the prickly Bakugo. No. She would not cry.

"I know, I was just, well, I wanted to do what De—" she started but immediately stopped and then rephrased, "—I felt responsible since I'd used my quirk on you. It was a dumb idea, I know, but I couldn't just leave you there." Slowly she tried sitting up again. Bakugo was no longer touching her and seemed to watch her doubtfully as she managed to get herself into a sitting position. Her ears rang and her vision dimmed but this time she managed to stay upright. "You didn't see Jiro?"

"Only you," Bakugo said tersely.

There was dim light coming in from Bakugo's window, judging by the dimness, it was likely still pretty early. "What time is it?"

"Five."

"We have to find Jiro. I know she fell and judging by the blood she hurt herself and wandered off I guess," Ochako said, concern evident in both her face and voice.

"Well excuse me for not racing out to find the owner of the other idiot's puddle of blood on my floor. I was a little busy making sure you weren't dead since it was the first thing I saw when I woke up: your stupid, uninvited ass, face smashed up and lying on my floor in a pool of blood," Bakugo snapped.

Uraraka felt her cheeks flush. Oh, that makes sense. I guess that would be what he first saw and what he was most immediately concerned with. I probably looked pretty bad, she thought to herself guiltily. She vaguely remembered a harsh tapping on her good cheek and imagined that that had been Bakugo, frantically slapping or poking at her cheek to rouse her. Gruff and harsh as it was, it was still some semblance of care.

"Sorry, that must've been unpleasant," Uraraka said quietly and lowered her eyes. She couldn't meet his eyes again. She felt bad. The entirety of this situation was her fault. She really wished she'd done things differently.

"Pfft, you're telling me," he growled and then stood up. "Okay. So ears was with you, fell and hit her head, bled a little, and then wandered off at some point. Great. Just fuckin' great." Bakugo looked over the pool of dried blood and back at Uraraka. "I'm gonna check her room," he announced and then started to walk off.

"Wait! I want to come with you! I need to know that she's okay—" she began only to have Bakugo spring back towards her in a flash, his face mere inches from her own.

"No, idiot, you get to stay here! Maybe you hadn't noticed but you can barely sit up without looking like you're gonna spew. You think walking or bright lights is going to help that?" Bakugo demanded his eyes fiery with irritation.

The close proximity of Bakugo brought another blush to her cheeks and made her involuntarily flinch back. She didn't like being that close to the volatile boy. Bakugo for his part, seemed completely unperturbed by the close proximity. It somehow seemed very Bakugo like to invade her personal space in an effort to drive his point home.

"Do you expect me to just stay here then?" She asked in a squeak.

Bakugo snorted and moved away from her, standing back up and preparing to head out. "You bet your crippled ass I do." Before she could even try to object, he was then out the door and away, leaving Uraraka alone.

The silence that now reigned over the dimly lit room made Uraraka sleepy. It was pleasantly warm too which made the idea of falling asleep appealing. She wasn't one to be up at five in the morning anyway, were any of her classmates? Why was Bakugo even awake this early? Did he normally wake up this early? Did the fire burn so hotly in her explosive classmate that he couldn't sleep past the first rays of sun? She thought of him crouched beside her, looking at her with those intense red eyes. Had they been glowing? Had she ever actually seen Bakugo's eyes in straight darkness or the dimness of morning before? What if they glowed? What if at his core he was actually part fire? Like a volcano, Ochako thought to herself and then realized that that entire train of thought was ridiculous. How hard had she hit her head?

"Hard," she murmured to herself. She looked up at the ceiling and the floating belt. She vaguely remembered tripping on something when first entering Bakugo's room and wondered if that was it. "Release," she whispered softly and pressed her fingers together. A moment later the belt came crashing down to land at her side.

Okay, time to sit up, she thought to herself and very slowly managed to get herself to a sitting position with minimal head spinning and dizziness. Sitting there, she felt herself wobble, still clearly not very steady in an upright position. She looked over at the fallen belt and idly reached out to it. It was a pretty burnt sienna color that made her think of maple trees in the fall. She wondered if it was something Bakugo had picked out and actually wore or more likely, something his mother had gotten him that he hardly ever wore.

Must stand up. Get up. Get up!

Uraraka struggled to stand up. She grabbed onto the foot of Bakugo's bed and tried to pull herself to a standing position. Big mistake, she thought to herself as her head started swimming and she again saw stars, immediately abandoning the effort to stand. The nausea that had mostly subsided suddenly came back with a vengeance. She clapped a hand over her mouth, gagging, the first lovely sign of full-on puking.

Where is there a trashcan or bag or anything, she thought to herself in a panic, her eyes darting wildly about the dim room. There was a trashcan that was tipped over at the foot of the bed—maybe that was what she'd tripped on last night—that she quickly snatched up, hung her head over and vomited.

After a few painful and mostly dry heaves, Uraraka sighed heavily and pushed the trashcan away from herself. She didn't think she'd be able to stay awake much longer let alone upright. Perhaps she should make herself weightless, that way if she did pass out, she wouldn't hit her head again. That seems like a good idea, she thought blearily to herself. She gently clasped her hands and felt her quirk activate with the tell glow of pink. The heaviness of her body started to seep out from her and she wasn't honestly sure if that was because of zero gravity or because she was on the brink of falling unconscious. She could feel herself wobble a bit and then flopped backwards, just barely feeling the back of her head touch the floor. She lay there, slowly rising toward the ceiling, feeling sleepier by the minute.

She wasn't sure how much time had passed that she just lay there, slowly gaining altitude when bright light from the hall suddenly broke through the dimness of Bakugo's bedroom. Uraraka slowly turned her head in the direction of the light, squinting her eyes against the glare. Bakugo stood in the doorway, mostly a shadow framed by the bright hall. She had no doubt that it was Bakugo, judging by the spikey hair and the gruff stance.

"You idiot. I can't leave you alone, can I?" Bakugo asked in an annoyed tone. He stepped into the room and toward the floating girl. Bakugo stopped just next to Uraraka and wrinkled his nose in disgust when he saw his trashcan and what was now in it. "Wonderful, you enter my room uninvited, bleed all over my floor, and then throw up in the bin," he sighed and looked at her with narrowed red eyes, "Use your stupid quirk to release yourself so I can take you to Recovery Girl."

"But Jiro," Ochako murmured. The light was still so painfully bright and blinding her that she could barely look at him, in fact it was too bright so she squeezed her eyes shut. Once her eyes were shut however, she felt the tug of unconsciousness pull on her strongly.

"She was in her room in a similar sorry state, stupid," Bakugo said with an impatient huff.

"Like me?" she repeated and opened her eyes to tiny slits.

"Unconscious and with a head injury. Though her face looks like less of a mess than yours. I got Aizawa up and he's taking her to that old windbag nurse, then I came back here to fetch you, now shut up and stop floating!" He snapped.

So Jiro was going to see Recovery Girl and Mr. Aizawa was seeing to her. That was good, though it probably meant that she and Jiro would get in trouble since they'd been in Bakugo's room after hours and Uraraka had used her quirk in an unsanctioned way in a poorly thought-out plan.

"Okay," she whispered and touched her fingers together and in an almost inaudible tone murmured, "release." She fell a very short distance into Bakugo's arms who'd been impatiently waiting for her to make herself weighted again.

"Finally," he hissed and then turned around and began carrying Uraraka out of his room.

"Thanks," Uraraka said softly and then succumbed to unconsciousness.

Bakugo glanced down briefly to see the auburn's head go limp and loll to the side. He huffed in a mixture of frustration and concern and adjusted his hold on her, trying to roll her flopping head more into his chest. He wasn't too familiar with the symptoms of a head injury, or really the signs and symptoms of a serious head injury. He knew that leaking clear fluid from the ears and nose were bad things and as far as he could tell she wasn't leaking out of either her ears or nose. Falling unconscious wasn't great either, but he wasn't keen on vigorously shaking her awake. Better to just get her to the infirmary quickly. Bakugo knew she'd hit her head hard enough to make it bleed and leave a little puddle beneath it. He'd been extremely alarmed when he woke to find her laying face up on his floor with a halo of blood around her, her right cheek bruised and eye swollen.

He could feel the crusted and dried blood in her hair, now that he held her and for a brief moment felt bad for the tangled mess she'd have to deal with but he shrugged that sentiment off quickly. She had been the stupid one to come up with some hare-brained scheme to use zero gravity to float him to his room all in the name of not waking him up. How stupid could you be?!

His upper left arm ached a bit, a residual of the break he'd sustained on Saturday. Bakugo frowned in irritation at that thought. Stupid villain had literally run right through him catching him off guard and before he knew it one of the other idiot scumbag robbers with a big wide mouth and teeth reminiscent to a shark, had bit down hard on his bicep. It hadn't hurt him all that much but the sound of the bone breaking had been enough to make him gasp in shock. Too bad for the idiot shark toothed moron that he didn't rip off Bakugo's arm because a split second later the big idiot got a face full of his Howitzer impact. Suffice to say, that took the moron down a few notches.

His Howitzer impact had essentially put the shark toothed dumbass out of commission and honestly, he'd not even needed any other assistance. He'd been extremely annoyed when that damn rabbit had randomly buzzed onto the scene and landed a powerful kick on the already downed villain. Where had she even come from? It had surprised him to see her suddenly there, when she was entirely unnecessary. They were with the number one, of course they could handle these small time thug losers.

What made it worse was that fucking Endeavor made that damn rabbit escort him back to UA. As if he needed an escort. He was more than capable to taking himself back to UA…not that he would've done that. Deep down he knew that that was why the number one hero had requested Mirko escort the blonde back. However, the fact that he'd asked that wretched loudmouthed, oversized rodent to take him and not assigned it to some other underlying like Burnin', made him even angrier. It had to be that stupid fucking rabbit. He remembered her predatory smile as Endeavor had talked to her, her sharp red eyes darting to him briefly, her well-toned thighs pinched tight around one of the robber thugs' throats. They'd been fine without the assist and he would've been even better if it hadn't been her that escorted him like some fragile princess back to school.

The old bag of a nurse had done a good job in healing him up but the rest restriction had been infuriating. If she'd managed to speed up his healing to the point of mending the bone, why the hell did he have to stick around and relax? He should be allowed to go back to his work studies. His stupid arm had been mended! Making him stay here at the stupid dorm with his idiot classmates seemed like punishment.

Bakugo was out onto the main floor now, having moved swiftly from his room to the common room. He still had a bit of a hike to get to the infirmary but he was confident that he could get Uraraka there in a timely manner. Most of his peers weren't up yet, which was good since any peers he passed by would probably ask him a whole bunch of stupid questions. Morons.

He spared another glance down at the unconscious girl in his arms and felt another twang of concern. Her irritatingly rosy cheeks were paler than they normally were, probably because she'd hit her head, lost some blood, and had thrown up. All of those things seemed like probable causes. Still, the pallor was concerning. Deku briefly flashed into his mind and he felt a mixture of annoyance and worry muddy his thoughts. He knew that Deku and Uraraka were close, probably more than close if him stumbling into some private conversation they were having the other day was taken into consideration.

Not to mention, whenever one of them got too close to the other one, one or both of them honestly, would break out into a painfully obvious red blush. Bakugo thought it was all a little too obvious and kind of stupid but hey, better to have the nerd be distracted by stupid things like girls and romance, that way it'd be even easier for Bakugo to surpass him. Though if he was being honest with himself, he wanted the nerd to be firing on all cylinders and at his best. It was the only way he'd feel like he really was the best; he had to beat Deku when Deku was at his best, otherwise it didn't count.

The sun was beginning to crest on the horizon as Bakugo hustled out over the footpath and toward the infirmary. Uraraka's arm rolled off her chest and began flopping at her side making Bakugo curse under his breath. This would be far easier if she was still conscious. He paused briefly and again adjusted the unconscious girl so that her arm lolled back onto her torso.

"Stay there," he snapped in irritation and then pressed on. He wondered if Aizawa had already gotten Jiro to the infirmary.

Thinking of Jiro made him shudder a little. That had been an unpleasant discovery. He'd followed half dried bloody footprints from his room and the hall and then to the stairs where they'd stopped completely. Assuming that she'd wandered to her room in her stupor, he'd pressed on to her room and wasn't remotely surprised when he got to Jiro's room, saw the door ajar and stepped in. There'd been no more blood but he'd easily spotted her crumpled form on the bed. She apparently managed to stumble her way to her room, gotten the door open, made it to her bed and then passed out.

Bakugo had checked a pulse, determined she was most definitely alive, looked over her face and ears for clear leaking fluid and found there to be none, tapped her cheek harshly a few times which had made Jiro's eyes flutter open briefly and then close again. That satisfied him that she was in a similar state to the idiot upstairs in his room, so he'd quickly headed out, located a very cranky and sleepy Aizawa and alerted him to the situation.

From then, he left Jiro to Aizawa and he returned to Uraraka. That had also been unpleasant. Apparently in her infinite wisdom, she'd tried to stand up or something equally inadvisable, and that hadn't gone well and so she'd puked. Thankfully she'd managed to barf in his trashcan and not just on the floor. He wasn't sure he could withhold a verbal tongue lashing if she'd managed to spew all over his floor.

"So stupid," he muttered to himself and cast an irritated glance down. She looked annoyingly peaceful; pale, but peaceful.

Not for the first time, he wondered what it was between his frenemy Deku and the rosy cheeked girl. He knew that there was something between the two, he just wasn't entirely sure what. The more he thought about it the more he decided that it was likely a crush of some sort but knowing Deku and what little he knew of Uraraka, they'd likely not gotten around to confessing that to each other. Morons. Why not just come out and say it? Why beat around the bush? If he liked someone, he'd be direct as hell about it, but he wasn't particularly interested in wasting his time on stupid frivolous activities like crushes or dating. Deku could have that all to himself.

Perhaps what he'd stumbled into the other day was them confessing to one another. Bakugo let out an audible snort at that and smirked down at the motionless Uraraka. "Fat chance, right? No way Deku would be the first to spill. Fuckin' nerd." Had cheeks been confessing then? Is that why she started to float away? Still looking down at her, he felt skeptical that she'd confess either. Both Deku and Uraraka seemed like the type to beat around the bush for a painful and unnecessary amount of time. He wrinkled his nose. Thinking about this annoyed him even more.

Knowing Deku, and knowing enough about Uraraka, he imagined that the conversation he'd walked in on had probably been about something not particularly embarrassing or worth getting flustered about.

He imagined it like this:

Idiot Deku standing there with his stupid messy hair, not able to meet round face's idiot gaze. "Here's a pencil, Uraraka."

Stupid Uraraka darting a quick and painful girlish glance at that moron Deku and then away again, a painfully obvious red flush coloring her cheeks. Her irritatingly small hand reaching out to take the pencil, their fingers just brushing making them both even redder. Fucking idiots.

"Oh thanks," Cheeks would say looking away from that dumb freckled face.

"Do you uh…want my pen too?" The nerd would ask, desperately hoping to prolong their stupidly unnecessary plutonic conversation. Get on with it morons!

"What? Your pen? Yeah." Cheeks would go to grab the pen and again their small hands would touch except this time that round faced idiot who can't control her dump fucking quirk, makes herself float. All because they touched fuckin' hands, whoop dee doo.

Deku sees her start to float away but is too slow and short to get her, obviously. Enter the much taller, better looking, more toned, blonde super hero to save both the nerd and the rosy cheeked idiot from themselves.

End.

Bakugo smiled at that scenario. It seemed plausible. Neither one of his awkward peers would have the balls to confess something like feelings to one another. His rendering of the conversation he'd interrupted seemed much more likely.

The infirmary was at last in sight and Bakugo let out a sigh of relief. Good, can finally have the old crone look at round face and make sure she's not like permanently brain damaged or something. Deku would probably go nuclear or maybe just emo. Ugh, don't think I could stand that fuckin nerd if he was moody and crying. He already cries too much, too touchy feely, bleck, he thought to himself petulantly.

As he got to the door of the infirmary he shot once last glance at the unconscious girl in his arms and another more empathetic thought struck him. I really hope she isn't like actually brain damaged…Deku seems to really like her stupid round face and I guess that makes me tolerate her more than some of the others. If she got too hurt or did have some permanent deficit because she was trying to get me to bed without disturbing me…I think, I think I'd feel bad about that. I'd feel guilty. The second that last thought hit, he shook his head as if that motion would banish such line of thinking. No, it wasn't his fault and he didn't really care. Deku was the one who was hung up on her; he was the overly sensitive one. These were his kind of thoughts, not Bakugo's.

It's not my problem, he reassured himself as he stepped through the door. I don't care, was what echoed in his head as he handed Uraraka off to Recovery Girl. I really don't care, a voice whispered to him as he saw an unconscious Jiro in the infirmary with a salty looking Aizawa nearby. It's 100% no my concern, he told himself as he watched Recovery Girl begin to poke and prod over the eerily pale Uraraka's scalp and head. Why should I care what happens to her, he thought as he again explained the situation as he knew it to Mr. Aizawa? This is her mess, murmured his inner voice as he took one last and definitely not concerned look at the injured girls. The idiots did this to themselves and it most certainly is not my problem, he reassured himself as he walked out of the infirmary.

Not my problem; it echoed throughout his mind as he walked back to the dorm.

It's not my problem.

Bakugo's hand touched the handle to the dorm as he cast a hesitant look backwards, in the direction of the infirmary. Deku's stupid smiling face briefly flashed in his mind's eye, followed quickly by Uraraka's pallid and battered face. The memory of Uraraka floating up and away and Deku getting ready use One For All to catch up to her also abruptly ran through his mind; the blushes on both of their faces as they'd looked at him after he'd caught her and pulled her back down. He felt himself frown and just the hint of a knot form in his stomach.

He looked back at his hand on the door to 1-A's dormitory, annoyed by the niggling sense of unease he continued to feel.

I don't care and it is not my problem.

He swung the door to the dorm open and stepped inside.