Chapter Text
“I’m going to kick your ass.”
“Ha! As if.”
He’s bigger, and stronger, and angrier, but she’s got him: she’s beat him.
She’s beat him: she’s better than him. Finally.
She feels on top of the world. Surviving their first year at U.A. was a miracle, but winning in a fight against Bakugou Katsuki is nothing short of life-changing. He withers momentarily under her, squirming almost helplessly until she shifts her hips to meet his core and finally there’s one last shudder before he gives up.
She feels on top of the world. Blood-red eyes - the left one bloodshot from a particularly cruel punch she had landed early on in their match - blink rapidly as he tries to accept his defeat, tries to come to terms as his shock settles.
They’re warm, but don’t burn her, as they assess his personal defeat; she closes her own and breathes a sigh of relief.
She feels on top of the world, the highest she’s been all year.
No exam, no training, no villain, no war could bring her down.
Until he drags her back to Earth.
“I let you win.”
Her eyes flick open to assess him now, and finds him ruining her high.
Ah, that hurt a bit more than she would like to admit.
It’s a lie, based on how his heart rate picks up and his gaze flicks down to avoid her relentless stare. His stomach tenses, the hard muscle under her rejecting the situation, as he shoves her off and scrambles to stand up on the outside of the makeshift ring.
It’s a lie, like the one he told before battle — before U.A. became a battleground only a few months before and they were nothing more than untrained children.
I’m not scared.
Uraraka’s fists clench by her sides, her top lip furling in an attempt to remain calm. Watching their school burn to the ground, their future alight in flames as the Vanguard broke down the walls, the classmates had defended the place they’d come to call home with their entire being.
“What?” Her throat is dry. I’m not scared but I am disappointed.
“You fucking heard me.” Bakugou sneers and Uraraka can’t hear anything else but the sound of his raggedy gasps, holding his neck where she had most likely bruised his trachea from a hectic kick early on.
Uraraka can’t hear how Tsu or Mina try to distance her from him, or how Deku and Kendo congratulate her, or how Komori announces the next contenders
“But why?”
Whatever anger there was in his expression stiffens into an unrecognizable contour. He’s like a statue: cut to perfection and casting a shadow over her in the ring, daunting and taunting and haunting.
They’ve fought before. Why was this different?
She can barely hear how their peers criticize him. She blatantly ignores how they rush to her aid to help cover a gash that he left on her arm, thrashing out of their reach in order to keep her grasp on Bakugou.
“I didn’t want to hurt your fucking feelings. I hate when you cry, it’s annoying as shit.”
“You didn’t let me win at the Sports Festival, and you didn’t let me fail at facing the Liberation Front. Sparring with quirks and Aizawa’s apprehension tests, did those mean nothing? Why the hell would you care about hurting my feelings now? You’ve never cared about them before.”
“I don't fucking care about your feelings.”
“Then take it back! Tell me that you didn’t let me win.” She can’t stop now. They were no longer physically fighting, but nothing was going to be more satisfying than taking a swing at him verbally. He deserves it. A year together, of growth and friendship and trust, and he still hasn’t changed. She was a fool for thinking he had, for thinking he’d respect her. “Don’t lie to protect something you don’t care about. Don’t take it easy on me!”
“But I-”
“Besides, Bakugou, if you did care about my feelings, you wouldn’t have let me win. You know damn well that failure is just as important as success. Ask anyone else here; we all know the risks and rewards of fighting.”
Her words garble together as they spill, and before letting her conscious win, she swings forward — non-verbally, this time. Now she knows, he’s let her connect with him. Bloody and bruised, he lets her swing.
Someone’s pulling her up and them apart, and others are building a wall of bodies between them before things can escalate.
The fun night stalls.
Yaoyorozu’s odd idea to release some stress after a particularly hellish term – year, really – had bloomed into a Fight Club. But no one called it a Fight Club, no no, instead no one called it anything. It was almost like they didn’t talk about Fight Club.
Uraraka splashes another handful of water onto her face, more concerned about how red her cheeks looked from her tears rather than how her first round had left her battered and a bit broken. In all honesty, she probably shouldn’t fight again.
Getting paired Bakugou in the first round of the tournament is bad luck. Everyone knows that and yet here she is, still standing. Barely though, more so leaning against the sink in the changeroom as she takes some space away from the rowdy crowd to cool down.
Shoji had knocked Mineta out with one punch after she stumbled out of the gym and now she has her money on Shishida as she hears the muffled bell to begin his fight against Kaibara. It’s a shame she’s missing the show.
She’d be joining Shoda, Tsuburaba, Yaoyorozu, and Tokage in the winners’ circle shortly. The rest of her classmates would still duke it out, the night not yet over. In a while, she’d fight – and win – again. And again, and again, until one U.A. Hero-in-Training stood at the top.
Yaoyorozu’s odd idea first sprouted when she pulled together the best hand-to-hand combatant students from both classes to share their expertise. Rin, Ojiro, Kendo, and herself were first recruited – kung fu, karate, judo, and G.M.A. The class leader has never been good with her bare hands, but excels with a weapon and had hoped to learn from her talented peers. Yaoyorozu’s bukijustu is advanced and Uraraka had jumped at the chance to trade secrets. After a few weeks of after-school workshops, some more fighters jumped on board. Kirishima and Tetsutetsu have spent time learning how to box and wrestle officially, Shoji shyly brought up the fact that he’d been kickboxing since he was a kid, Todoroki showed up unexpectedly to introduce them to Jiu-Jitsu, and Kamakiri has been training in Taekwondo to make up for his hand-heavy fighting style.
Soon enough, their little training sessions grew into something that became meaningful for the entire grade. Aizawa, and the rest of the faculty, either pretended to not know about their secret meetings or encouraged them: quirkless battles were becoming more common amongst the headlines. Villains were playing at an advantage and heroes were having a hard time playing at all as drugs and techniques brewed.
As a group, they followed Yaoyorozu as she stepped up as the unofficial party planner. They’ve been busy: it was time to see how their hard work pays off through a little competition. When Shinsou landed himself in the hospital after a particularly challenging fight while interning and a villain had a muting quirk, they knew it was the right time.
Kendo and Yaoyorozu secured the Gamma Gym. Ojiro tempted the teachers off campus. Todoroki, Uraraka, Kirishima, and Tetsutetsu went shopping. Kamakiri and Shoji pulled together a generator and created the bracket system.
No quirks. No weapons. All styles are welcome.
The first to pin their opponent for three seconds wins.
Have fun.
Knowing how to throw down without their boosts was a benefit that no one could deny. Knowing that they could help each other prepare makes it undeniably fun. No holding back, Uraraka is determined to come out on top of the world.
There’s a series of cheering that breaks between the changeroom’s walls and breaks Uraraka’s concentration. She can imagine the dark, empty space. The ring drawn out in chalk on the cement floor: the students huddled around the fighters, tussling for their lives with smiles on their faces. She can imagine herself there, at the centre of it all.
With a final glance at the mirror, she pulls her hair out of its ponytail and shakes it out. Refreshed and anticipating the next round, the knock at the changeroom is startling.
Seeing Bakugou on the other side is less so.
Before he can even open her mouth, Uraraka is ready to fight again.
“What’s the big idea? We were all just trying to have fun and you went ahead and ruined it. God, I thought you of all people would understand. You’ve really got to get over yourself. We’re on the same fucking team, Bakugou. We’re fighting the same fight. If you go easy on me, does that mean that you don’t think I can handle hard villains? It’s like you don’t know me at all. Where have you been for the past year? We survived this together and I’ve proven my…”
He’s holding an ice pack against his collarbone. She’d shred his tank top during their match, the black fabric revealing slivers of his torso. There’s a distinct tension between them.
“I’m mad at you.” Obviously, she thinks. He must know. He’s smart.
“I didn’t–.”
She watches how the icepack melts against his bare skin, the droplets of water cascading down his chest. His torso shakes with each breath and her fingers itch. There’s a distinct tension between them.
“I have to go back in there and fight again and feel like crap and–” Vulnerability looks good on him, she thinks. He must know. He’s smart.
“I didn’t let you win.” Bakugou Katsuki is an intelligent man. “You won.” The entire world is quiet for a moment. “And I am sorry.”
She hears the world creak on its axis. Or maybe it stops turning permanently.
“Bakugou-kun, I didn't mean t–”
He silences her, pressing his icepack against her cheek. It hurts, but it feels good.
“Now you have to win the rest of them, all your other fights.”
With one hand, he holds her still and with the other, he grips the doorframe above her. The distinct tension between them is an assault against them.
“I can do that.”
He smirks like she’s threatened him.
“I know you can.”
“It’s late,” Yaoyorozu notes, though she doesn’t sound worried. In fact, she sounds pleased. “Thank you all for coming tonight.”
When she smiles, she’s missing a tooth. There’s a round of appreciation for the organizer. They had spent hours together, beating the shit out of each other. It was a fun night.
Uraraka can feel the blood drying on her, half hers and half her friends’. The usual sinking feeling in her gut that is associated with the sound of a heartbeat in her ears and the taste of iron in her mouth doesn’t form. She isn’t sinking, she’s soaring. This was fun.
Yaoyorozu takes a picture of the group of students first and then the chalkboard diagram they had sketched out after each round, the single-elimination style of the bracket has Uravity at the top. Someone’s drawn a little Saturn next to it and a few stars.
She’s on top of the world again.
In theory, at least, since she’s technically holding herself up on Rin – who came second in the tournament – and did a fantastic job at knocking Uraraka off her feet near the end. Her nose is definitely broken thanks to him.
“Are you all okay to get home or shall I call my driver and we can set up a carpool system? It is the end of term after all and I’m sure many of you have transportation plans that you can’t miss, and since my schedule didn’t necessarily fit everyone’s timelines, I’m more than happy to provide assistance and–.”
“Yaomomo-chan, it’s a beautiful night!” Ashido speaks up for everyone, concussion be damned – Uraraka had apologized profusely for that afterwards. She checks her watch, supporting herself against Monoma and wrapping an arm around Kaminari with a big grin. “We’ve got ten…well, now nine more days before our second year begins. You’re technically on vacation. We've had fun."
“Alright, well then, before we all go our separate ways, please mark your calendars for the last day of next term. We’ll meet here again. I’ll make sure everything's in place for us.” Yaoyorozu nods and waves Iida over to have him retie her ponytail since her hands won’t stop shaking. She didn’t make it far in the competition but enjoyed herself regardless. “I also want you all to get checkups while away. I want you in your tip-top health so that our next workshop isn’t wasted on the Monday that we come back.”
“Really? I thought this was a one-and-done kind of deal!” Jirou looks more excited than expected, having made it to the third round of the competition. Many other faces in the crowd light up at the opportunity to find a similar release, to face another chance.
“If the teachers aren’t going to teach us, then we might as well teach each other.” Ojiro agrees, carrying Hagakure on his back and sporting a scrap on his knees where Kendo had dragged him across the inner ring during their round. “Sure, I’m in. Basement of the Boys’ Dorm, like usual? It should be big enough to host everyone that is interested in learning.”
“Everyone? During your little practices? You mean I can learn too? Cause I don’t want fucking Sero to hand me my ass in the second round again. So embarrassing, he's guy, but his god damn noodle arms piss me off.” Tokage asks, still bitter that her trash-talking technique hadn’t broken Sero’s massive ego before getting tossed over his shoulder. “Cause I’ll learn, if I can! I don’t have much to…you know…offer, but holy shit, I want to learn. Especially from Uraraka-chan! G.M.A. looks fucking nasty .”
“It isn’t. Uraraka is just a dirty fighter.” Shishida jokes and Uraraka is too sore to laugh. He didn’t say that he appreciated the hair pulling, but he didn’t look all that happy about his loss against her. “But U.A. will be safe if she’s fighting for us.”
Too sore to laugh, but the pain is worth it.
“Couldn’t sleep?”
Between the dark layers of sakura trees and falling cherry blossoms, Bakugou appears along the park’s path. Above, the skyline interferes with how the sky shifts to morning. Pinks and oranges collide on campus, painting their home and protecting their friends. Her solitude is broken again by him, but she doesn’t mind.
He’s got a hospital wristband on and grey joggers. He hasn’t changed out of his destroyed black tank top, the March breeze raising goosebumps along his arms. She almost offers him part of his blanket, but thinks twice.
“Adrenaline is still pumping.” She finally responds once he sits down – just a bit too far away for the blanket to reach. “And I’ve booked an early train home for the break, so I’m waiting.”
“Liar. You’re in pain, aren't you?”
“Hurts like hell, but winning was worth it,” she whines dramatically and proceeds to giggle as he turns to leave her alone in the park. She reaches up to grab the edge of his pocket and tug him back down beside her, and he lets her. She doesn't mind that he's going easy on her. “No wait, please, I promise I’ll be nice. I’ll be good!”
“You’re a good fighter, Cheeks.”
Translation: congratulations. He settles again and relaxes, leaning back on his hands to stare up at the sky rather than out at the flowers. He isn’t exactly downtrodden or disheartened. She followed through, she won like he had asked her to. She’s the best and knowing that meant that he didn’t lose against a loser. The single-elimination rule was harsh but necessary.
He isn’t rigid or frustrated. He’s mostly calm, and almost beautiful in the rising sun.
Surviving their first year at U.A. was a miracle, and winning in a fight against Bakugou Katsuki is nothing short of life-changing, but seeing him like this is something Uraraka could definitely become addicted to.
“You’re a wonder with your quirk, Bakugou-kun, I can’t deny that.” Uraraka stretches out her legs, the cool grass tickling beneath the shorts and sports bra set she still wore. The blanket around her shoulder flows to protect her from the season and to hide how her nerves race. "But you can’t rely on it. Look at Todoroki and Deku. You three are on track to being the top heroes of our grade, but none of you made it past the second round in a simple fist fight.”
The sky is suddenly less intriguing as he twists to look at her instead.
For a moment, she wonders if he’s going to kiss her in a cruel twist of fate. All bloody and bruised and broken.
He peels his eyes down from hers again, but doesn’t look away.
She knows he’s looking at her lips. She can feel it.
“Who are you without your quirk, Katsuki?” This is fun.
“I’m sure you’ll show me.” His voice is husky and he sounds like he’s the one in pain.
I’m not scared but I am ready.