Chapter Text
Uraraka wasn't certain anymore if the heavy beats and thuds were stemming only from the destruction beyond her trashed house, or if they were being uttered by her own pounding heart. First, a strange man had come flying through her window. Then, a living nightmare came smashing through the lower half of her house. After that, she'd gone falling two stories when the floor around her had exploded under her feet. She'd been sure that was the end for her.
But now, she was in another completely unexpected situation: having been saved by a second unfamiliar face, though this one was definitely friendlier than the former who'd shattered the glass and swore at her. As he carefully sat up, rising to his feet, he held out a hand, and, although shaky, Uraraka gratefully took it. It was somewhat rough, but his grip was steady, as they now stood upon the one speck of cleared ground among all the disarray.
Looking around slowly, a knot was beginning to form in her throat. Swallowing hard, she tried to keep her breathing even. What surrounded her...could this even be considered a 'house' anymore, let alone somebody's 'home'?
The living room was completely askew. Moonlight was rapidly streaming in from the missing walls and over the sparse flooring from her room above. She could barely make out anything that originally existed in the parlor at all, much less the dining area. Besides the table having been knocked over, and the hundreds, maybe even thousands or more in damage from the electronics having been flung and scattered, some utterly broken into pieces, there was the fact that the tiny sitting table in the parlor was now half shaded by her crookedly-positioned bed. It might've already gone straight into the wooden paneling below it from the weight of both furniture and the destroyed upper level crashing onto it.
At the foot of the staircase was no-man's land. It was entirely decimated, leaving only a large gaping crater in its wake, leading down to the lowest foundations. The front door was blocked off by the debris, and her shoes were majorly buried under the excess. Really, the only places downstairs that were still relatively in one piece and accessible were the kitchen, back area with laundry facilities, and, just barely, the farthest corner by the TV – oh no, there was a long crack across the screen. Something must've gone flying and caught it at a harsh angle.
Wait...the TV...the shrine! Uraraka felt like her organs were being sucked out of her, and forcibly shot back in, but at all the wrong locations. In a flurry, she was already making the motions to scramble across the minefield that was once the first floor of her house.
Kirishima, feeling the sudden tug on his hand, caught sight of this, and instantly sprang into action. What was this lady trying to do? She was in no condition – and neither was the house – for her to be trekking across the wasteland of broken shrapnel and potential hazards! Wrapping his arms around her instead, to keep the struggling girl from traveling any further, he tried to get in a word edgewise.
"Hey, hey! You can't walk over that! Look – you're even missing a slipper! Do you wanna get hurt? Because if that fall didn't kill you, then trying to navigate this mess might do it!" Although she didn't want to just sit and stay put, Uraraka, even in her frenzied state, understood what he was getting at. So, she tried to reason with him.
Pointing towards the lone untouched wall, she did her best to get the words out clearly, without screaming or sobbing. "M-My – over there, it's – there's something very, very i-important to me, and I need to – I need to get it! Please!" Staring at her quizzically, Kirishima could hear the pain in her voice, though at the same time, he knew that sticking around in here any longer wouldn't do either of them good. Who knew when something else would potentially come crashing down on them? If he didn't activate his Quirk in time... "I know this is hard to deal with, Miss, but -"
Uraraka squirmed to look up at him, unshed tears shining in her golden-brown gaze. Her teeth were grit, as if she were fighting to keep from yelling. "Please! I-I just – I need to make sure it's okay! N-Nothing else! Then we – then we can go! I promise!" Seeing the frantic, desperately passionate look to her features, Kirishima knew he couldn't say no. This girl had just escaped death, while losing the roof over her head. As long as he was aware and kept them both secure, it shouldn't be too hard to grab whatever it was that she needed so badly. He'd undergone the training, his reflexes were up for this.
However, he wasn't about to let her walk the entire way just to grab it.
"E-Ehh?! What – What are you -" In a flash, the redhead had swept her off her feet, secure in his arms. Uraraka's face was flushed, as the male began marching carefully over the mess strewn about them. Without meeting her gaze, he answered. "You're in no condition to be moving anywhere through this. And I'm supposed to be a hero, right? I won't let anybody get hurt, for whatever reason."
The brunette felt her breath catch in her throat, as he finally glanced down at her with a small grin. The faint light reflected off of his jagged teeth. "I'll help you get what you need – just don't tell my partner, 'kay? But after that, we have to get outta here. It's not safe anymore." Nodding rapidly, Uraraka could only cling to him tightly, as he continued making his way through the chaos. In a few more strides, they'd reached the other side.
Clearing a patch of floor with his boot, Kirishima gingerly placed the girl down, where she quickly scurried over and proceeded to snatch up two pieces of the makeshift shrine. Her savior didn't know this, however – to him, it merely looked as though she were going to investigate a small table momentarily, one that was somehow still standing.
Everything had either been knocked down or off. There was a small chip in the wooden nameplate, and the picture frame was cracked as well. But everything was still relatively together. Uraraka turned around, giving Kirishima a nod. "I got it!" Smiling, though it was a bit tight-lipped, he scooped her up once more, before heading for the unintentional exit way.
By now, the front yard was a warzone. If the inside of the house looked a right sight to see, then it was safe to say that the greenery had been reduced to a blackened shell of its former state. Crater after crater in the ground, a crooked, twisting, winding pathway of explosive mayhem. The air was thick with smoke, and in the center of it all, was a triumphant, if filthy and tattered Bakugou, grinning almost ravenously, at the sight of the Noumu before him.
It was close to falling apart, though somehow managing to stand on its feet. One arm was missing, and its body was tilted at an even further unnatural angle. Dripping in blood from its head to its toes, it was apparent that the blond had followed his own issued advice to a T. Most of the damage to his opponent had been unhealed, because the one-man wrecking crew hadn't allowed it to get any closer with its claws and extended strikes.
But he'd certainly gone slap-happy with his moves, risky though they may've been – not all of them had been achieved by long range attacks only. If anyone could pull off such a feat, it was Bakugou Katsuki.
Marveling at his comrade's prowess, Kirishima set Uraraka upon the grass closest to the house which hadn't been burnt to unrecognizable cinders. Suddenly, they were both startled as, with a resounding crackling and crashing, another level of the remaining bedroom above, came tumbling down in a powdery, groaning heap. This time, it was the part which housed the dresser and mirror.
Kirishima and Uraraka both cried out – it had fallen exactly where they'd been upon first landing. If they hadn't moved any sooner or faster than they had, then...
"OI!" Bakugou had finally taken notice of the redhead and civilian. And, although he'd made a good deal of progress against the Noumu, he wasn't happy at seeing his partner just standing by and seemingly doing nothing. "How long does it take you t'fucking rescue somebody?! You having a little tea party over there, or what?"
Sharply jutting his thumb back, he spit out a wad of blood and saliva. "Quit yapping and get over here! Help me put this guy down for good!"
Kirishima was already rushing across the scorched earth, offering his apologies. "Sorry, sorry!" Looking back briefly at Uraraka, he gave her a subdued grin. "Don't worry – we'll have this taken care of in a jiffy! Count on it!" She didn't know how to respond to that, or much of anything else; she could only stare, in horrified fixation, as she silently accepted her front row tickets as an unwitting audience to this clash of good and evil, right on her doorstep. What was left of it, anyway.
One thing was for certain: if ever there was a distraction for decimation of all you knew and loved, a brawl between beings who may as well have been Gods by this point would surely be it. Uraraka could easily feel her pulse racing for a completely different reason, as the pair of heroes expertly ducked and dodged, while hitting back with everything they had. Their powers were unique – at least to her. Being someone without a Quirk, every ability was special in its own way, through her eyes.
In all of her lifetime, Uraraka had never gone out of her way to view or experience conflict, which was somewhat considered odd, given the society she lived in. Even if you weren't a hero, most everybody had Quirks, and enjoyed seeing a good ol' fashioned scuffle between pros and cons. Even her parents were avid watchers of the news. Most of the information she'd picked up had been purely in passing, from a random newspaper headline or online article, a brief image on the news, or word-of-mouth.
This enthusiasm had especially been prominent back when she'd been in high school, during the end times of All Might. He was one of, if not the most decorated and world-renowned hero, and his final showdown had been one for the ages. Now, nearly ten years later, people were still discussing it. And even if he'd officially retired by this point, he continued to hold influence and sway. The top ranked heroes of today still couldn't hope to fill his shoes, and Lord knows they tried, however they worked. They kept the populace safe, this was true, and had built up their own fan bases as well. But he was truly one of a kind.
No matter if she'd never been a regular follower of heroes, villains or the state of affairs beyond her own little corner. Everybody had been tuned in, that night at Kamino Ward, where the epic throwdown between the great Symbol of Peace, and the face of true darkness – a legendary adversary who'd been terrorizing the world since before she was born. Whether or not he was the one to directly strike the blows, or step into the limelight. This fearsome figure been pulling the strings back when that motley crew, the League of Villains had first started their reign of terror. Jeez, that was a name she hadn't heard in a long while.
She remembered the speculations that they'd been working with another villain at the time, someone called...oh, what was it, 'Stain', or the 'Hero Killer'? That's right – because his M.O was exactly as his name suggested. However, although he'd incited a wave of bizarre devotion within some of the more misguided circuits, thanks to his 'belief system' – Uraraka recalled it well among some of the troublemakers at her school, and had done everything she could to stay out of their way - once he'd been caught, the League had continued on with their plans. But even now that their leader was contained far away, where he could no longer hurt others, his name still sent waves of shivers down spines.
All For One.
He'd founded the League, given them everything they needed – including the resources to begin breeding these...abominable inky super-beasts. It was still a bit of a mystery how he'd truly worked, but it seemed as though his Quirk...allowed him to basically 'collect' the Quirks of others, and use them as he saw fit? Hence why the Noumu were well-equipped with so many abilities to take on opponents with. Unlike Monoma's 'Copycat', this Quirk wasn't temporary. The powers were his to keep. Just how many people he'd effectively stolen Quirks from, nobody could be sure.
Wait a minute...back up for a moment there. If the Noumu were here again, then could this possibly mean...that the League was returning, too?! How?! Had All For One escaped? But it would've been front page news with an all-points bulletin! Right? Or maybe...
"RAAH!" Uraraka was effectively yanked head-first from her thoughts, and back into the current situation at hand. The blond and redhead were taking turns trading blows against the stumbling Noumu, and it was surely only a matter of time before it fell to their unwavering assault. In particular, the hotheaded male she'd first met was wiping the floor with the creature, dodging and attacking without missing a beat.
His Quirk seemed to have to do with...burning, now that she was up close enough to watch him in action. Or was it something else? No, he wasn't shooting out flames, they were just an aftereffect. So what was his main ability? Whatever it was, it was most certainly responsible for a good chunk of the property damages here. He wasn't shy at all about using it, either – the wide grin on his face, and rapid-fire shots, were clear proof of that. Perhaps he could send out explosive bullets? Something flammable and concentrated?
His companion, on the other hand – the one who'd pulled her from the wreckage – was more interested in hand-to-hand combat, though his Quirk definitely gave him a leg up on that. Just like she'd seen before, when she'd been pinned under him, his body and appendages would quickly change texture and form, allowing him to fend off strikes or protect himself from potential damage by his partner's ability. His body was ridiculously solid, enabling him to take on direct punches to the face and abdomen – Uraraka had squealed and flinched at that. Amazingly, she'd been able to restrain herself from full-on covering her eyes.
In return, his hardened figure could pack quite the punch, boosting what would've been regular blows to an almost inhuman status. And once he'd finished, it was back to the fiery blond, who'd swoop in for another round. At this point, the Noumu – once such a fearsome being – now resembled a piece of roadkill that someone had decided to play 'keep away' with. Wow, what a disgusting image.
"HAH! You inferior being – I've got no time for extras like you!" Kirishima had just finished a series of strikes to the blackened ground that the Noumu had been surrounded by, and Bakugou was already lining up his next shots, comeback quip on hand. Firing in a circle around its feet, the unsteady earth gave way, sending the battered monster down into a freshly formed pit with a grating, strangled howl. Landing down before it with a single leap, the male prepared his finishing move.
Palms lighting up with a new fury, Bakugou turned one more time, to regard his partner. "Oi, Shitty-Hair! I need you for this, so haul ass!" He didn't need to ask twice. The redhead was already on his way. Giving the struggling creature a triumphantly maniacal look, the blond proceeded to smash both of his palms into the sides of its head, and let off two more blasts. Matter sprayed forth, though he was unfazed. Nobody ever said that being a hero wasn't a dirty business.
"NOW! Hit 'em with your best shot!" Stepping aside smoothly, Kirishima took in the state of the Noumu – or, what remained of its face. The sides were almost entirely gone, and chunks of its exposed brain were missing along the edge of its forehead. Its neck was barely there, and the top mass was wobbling noticeably. However, it was still desperately trying to break free, with disjointed motions and twitches that were far too unsettling to keep watching. Steeling his resolve and solidifying his right leg, the male let loose a hefty kick -
- and with a snap and squelch, its head went flying, entirely detached from its body. The remaining figure's motions stilled instantly, and the only sound was a faint plop of the bodily projectile, landing a few yards away in the smoking craters across the grass.
They'd done it. At long last, after all that combat and frenzy, all that blood, sweat and tears, after having to think up every last plan they could and then some on the fly...it was all over. The Noumu was dead. They'd taken it down, a feat which not many could claim on their own. They, an – as the Old Guard would say – "up-and-coming" pair of heroes, had effectively silenced one of the most dastardly devised foes in existence. They hadn't needed backup. It had been an amazing showdown, and a satisfying litmus test. Look at how far they'd come!
At least, that's what had been going through Bakugou's mind as he'd surveyed the surroundings with a tired, but smug stance. The day was saved, the baddie was gone. Hell, there was an even deeper sense of personal satisfaction than that - no matter who'd sent this reject out to cause havoc in the first place, Noumus had and would always remind him of that night: the night when his childhood dreams had been shaken, and for the first time in his life, he'd been unsure.
He'd watched his only hero give literally everything he had, just to save his life, and in exchange lost his own abilities in the process. All that hurt, that anger, that frustration - even guilt, which Bakugou was not usually one to harbor - had been lessened just a tad, by stomping out the life from this travesty of a creation. Never again. He would never again be so weak and powerless. Never again would others have to save him. Never again would others have to risk their well-being just to protect him. He was the hero. He was the unstoppable force of nature. He was the one who would always have the last say, be it in his destiny, or otherwise.
Sure, there was quite a bit of collateral damage, but all's well that ends well, ultimately. Considering it was a Noumu he'd taken out, the higher-ups were sure to give him a pardon this time around. All that really mattered was that he'd won, and nobody else had gotten...
...that was when his eyes landed on the small, trembling figure standing beside the wrecked house. Head down, hair hanging, arms raised and fists clenched. Her. Well, she was still alive, so obviously, she was -
Suddenly, her gaze snapped up to meet his. Heated honey-brown eyes were locked on to crimson, but although there were visible tears, she didn't look like she was about to cry. No, her expression was of someone about to strike. Her figure, at first hunched over and shivering, was now standing tall, or at least as much as her stature would allow. Bakugou had no idea what was happening, as the young woman began marching towards him.
Neither did Kirishima, who had just caught sight of the unusual scene, and was now watching in transfixed, exhausted confusion. What fresh hell was this?
"You...You...How could you? How could you do this to my home?!"
…...
She could see them in her mind's eye, the blurry remnants of her past. Little moments of sunshine, all tied to that one focal point, the start of her life with her parents, comfortable, safe and secure against the trials and indignities of the world. No matter what might've come her way, Uraraka could always count on her family and home to rekindle her hopes, and strengthen her spirit for the day to follow. Even after her parents had passed on, the house that love had built still remained.
One of her earliest recollections was of exploring the property, when it was still mostly empty. Only the barest of foundations had been planted and spread over the ground. She'd stumbled and waddled over the vast expanse of green grass, as her parents had been discussing plans between each other, making calculations and compiling lists, gesturing here and there as to what they wanted and where.
She hadn't been focused on any of that, though. As a toddler, she'd been mainly captivated by the lush viridian hues, and the towering trees that marked the limits of their future yard. It was so...so natural and quiet here. Not grey and congested, like the dinky apartment they'd been living in. Now that they'd gotten their construction company off the ground, one of their first projects, since they'd had the funds, was building their dream home.
A little clearer in her memories, and she could see, a year or so later, the image of them finally pulling up into the neighborhood, truck settling in the garage as they'd stepped out, to survey the completed abode as it practically glowed under the morning sun. Uraraka had been grabbing her Mother's hand with chubby child fingers and squishy palm, eyes wide as the fresh details burned themselves into her retinas, brain and heart for eternity.
The creamy golden hue had been tastefully balanced by a deep brown tiled roof, silver rain-spouts, a welcoming mahogany door, and a pale cement stoop. The windows sparkled in the sunbeams, like clear gems, gently reflecting the colors of their surroundings. She recalled the reassuring click of the brass doorknob, as the lock opened, and they'd taken their first steps inside, through the threshold.
Fast forward a good few years. A particular memory had decided to bubble forth here; a lazy Sunday, where her Mother had just finished cleaning up after breakfast in the kitchen, and she'd completed the remains of her homework from the day before. She must've been about twelve or thirteen at the time, and had been lounging on the couch, flipping quietly through a weekly comic magazine that had come in the mail earlier in the week.
Just as her Mother had stepped out from the dining area, wiping the last traces of dishwater from her hands, they'd both heard a clatter from the garage outside. In another couple of minutes, her Father had been staggering inside, a bunch of pipes, tools and blueprints in his hands. Although his balancing Quirk was clearly in action, he'd still been shaky in his footing, due mostly to the fact that he hadn't been able to see the path before him as clearly as he should've.
"Uh – oh, whoops!" And there had gone the misstep, resulting in one of the long pipes crashing through the plaster wall, leaving a decent-sized hole in its wake. Her Mother had sighed, shaking her head before going over to help her husband. Even with his ability, that didn't make him incapable of error. And mistakes like these were more common around their household than one would expect, what with the fact they were involved in construction, and her Father was always interested in improving things around their living space.
"Aw, jeez...I'm sorry, hon. Looks like I gotta bust out the patchin' supplies again." Offering a guilty smile, it was returned with a softer expression, and a peck on the lips by his wife. "It's fine, dear. Just try not t'go overboard with your projects, okay? I can get the stuff for you this time."
As she'd returned shortly with the paper, tub of powdered paste and coating brush, Uraraka had watched in curious silence while her Father worked. She'd always talked about helping out at their business for as long as she'd remembered, but although they'd continued to tell her not to worry, her desire to assist had never wavered. Perhaps...if nothing else, she could learn something useful here?
So, putting her comics on the small table in front of the couch, Uraraka had stood up, and asked her Father about the process involved in these sorts of minor repairs. He hadn't been adverse to explaining here, and had even let her try a few coats and layering for herself. From then on, she'd always been present to bandage up every little nick and crack the house endured, eventually learning to fix things entirely on her own, and saving her Father the hassle of doing it himself. It was a small thing to offer, but Uraraka felt useful nonetheless.
And here, here, at this moment in time, standing before this short-tempered, destructive young man, with the wreckage of her life behind her, a stark landmark against the deep night sky and torched earth beneath her feet. This was where it had led her. No matter how much she applied the plaster and paper, she'd never be able to fix this on her own. You couldn't slap a bandage over a bullet hole.
This imposing figure, who'd come barreling into her existence, startling her out of her sleep and ripping away everything she held dear. He had a partner, yes, but unlike him, the redhead had actually tended to her, even offering his assistance when she'd been so desperate to check on the shrine. Most likely, the majority of the damage had come from him and his explosive Quirk.
Hero. That's what they were both supposed to be, right? They wouldn't be dressed so distinctly and using their abilities with abandon otherwise. The longer she continued to stare up at his scowling face however, stance both on guard and dismissive, the more she could only see the destruction. Her parents' hard work, her childhood, her security, her bunker against the war that was this world – her everything, really. It had all been stolen away, by that inky monster...
...and this hothead, who hadn't seemed to care enough beyond the battle itself.
By now, Bakugou was well annoyed, and rapidly progressing towards irritated. The girl regarding him hadn't yet backed up from his space, that look of blind fury continuously etched into her full features. If he hadn't been feeling so damn cornered right now – by some nobody, no less! - he probably would've started laughing. A chuckle or two, maybe a snicker. This chick couldn't intimidate anyone even if she tried, like she seemed to be attempting here.
But. That didn't make her presence any less irking. She hadn't said anything since her first little outburst at him, only making faces after stomping forward to command his attention. What, was she spacing out now? She had been slow in getting out of the house during the battle, even when she'd clearly been given the orders to run, and had seen the commotion around her. He wouldn't be surprised at all if she was something of an airhead.
"Oi. The hell you lookin' at me for like that, eh?" His crude acknowledgement snapped Uraraka from her thoughts then, and his strikingly crimson eyes were fixing her with a heated stare of his own. "The fight's done and I ain't got anything left t'do here other than give the report when the top dogs arrive." His lips pursed slightly. "But since you thought it was oh-so-important to try and bite my head off before planting yourself here, I'll give you one chance to explain."
At this, he leaned in closer, and Uraraka had to resolve herself not to flinch. Oddly enough, he smelled both smoky and sweet. But the emotions behind his eyes were far from kind. "Because, I really don't like when people don't know how t'be grateful for the fact that they're still alive." Pulling back, he proceeded to fold toned arms across his broad chest. "So? Go on. I'm waiting."
Uraraka did have to admit, she'd come across as hostile upon first addressing him. Her shock and sentiment had been speaking for her, and on closer examination, knew he had made a good point. Whatever may've happened to her home, he and his partner had saved her life, and it was only fair that she show gratitude for that. She knew her folks would've certainly been happy, wherever they were, to still have her on the Earth.
"I..." Swallowing the knot in her throat slow and hard, the brunette tried to organize her frenzied thoughts into a proper sort of order. First things first, apologize and offer proper praise. Then explain the situation. "I am...sorry, for my aggressive tone, and appreciative of the fact that you and your cohort rescued me. Thank you for that."
The blond had been ready to turn on his heel and march off, accepting the response and acting like the girl didn't exist. He didn't ask for worship, though his skills were damn well worthy of it. At least this woman had owned up to the fact that she'd been in the wrong for rounding on him like that. Before he could move though, she continued on. "However."
Of course. Of fucking course there was a catch. There always was. She wouldn't have come after him so doggedly in the first place if it had only been a simple misunderstanding. Eyes narrowing slightly, Bakugou grit his teeth behind tight lips, waiting for her to go on. If he'd had his way, he'd have simply mouthed off a "Whatever" to her however, and been done with it. Unfortunately, Hero's Conduct and all that shit.
"'However?'" he hissed back at her.
Refusing to let his blood-red glare silence her, Uraraka stood her ground and continued on. "H-However...that still doesn't change the fact..." Good, good, keep going! Even if his gaze was searing enough to melt icebergs! "...that my house...is now destroyed." Almost there!
Her heart was on the verge of bouncing its way into her throat and out of her mouth, but the brunette refused to back down. "And I think, th-that as a hero...you have a certain responsibility...on handling it. Umm...yes. That's it." It was a weak finish, but the point was, she'd gotten the crux of her message across, and without flying off the handle like she'd done at first glance. Having been rather paralyzed with intimidation by the now bitterly dumbstruck male before her had probably unintentionally helped with that.
Now, the question was: how would he react to this?
If Bakugou had felt like laughing before, then it was only by the grace of some God or other that he didn't do so right into this oblivious bimbo's face now. Seriously? He'd just fought – and survived – against one of the most notorious terrors within the last ten years, kept the damages in check as much as he possibly could, and even saved her from certain death! He'd faced his past head-on, and directly flipped off his anguish and grief. But after all that, she had the gall to snap at him, then offer up a half-assed apology, before turning around and softly, spitting in his face.
Responsibility? Yeah, he did have that. As a hero. That's why he'd come out all this way just to fight in the first place! Because he'd been looking at the 'bigger picture', or whatever they liked to call it, and took into consideration the fact that continuing a fight in the busy city was not beneficial, for himself or anyone else. Hence why he'd made the commute on foot all the way out to this neck of the woods – to keep the damages low! And if he hadn't run into this damn house in the first place, he could've kept that record spotless. At least it wasn't as bad as the level of destruction he'd caused to result in his prior suspension, but still.
The way he saw it, a life saved was worth far more than any structure of brick and mortar. What, did she think she was the only person to ever lose a residence to conflict? Damages were a commonplace occurrence, no matter how hard heroes tried to keep the battles clean. Villains didn't see things the same way. Was he expected to have reasoned diplomatically with that brain-dead Noumu, convincing it to fight around her house?
Uraraka could feel her nerves beginning to tighten, at seeing no reaction in the male who stood before her. But for every second that ticked by, his form seemed to tower over her ever more so. No matter what her pounding heart screamed at her from behind her ribcage however, she couldn't back down. She'd gone this far to take a stand and put herself out there; she wouldn't allow fear to control her, make her simply hang her head and say "Okay, that's just the way things are."
She hadn't gotten a say in her parents' death. She could scream and cry to the heavens until her throat was raw, until her voice was gone. It didn't change a thing. They weren't coming back. But this, their home, their legacy; the one memory that Uraraka had left? The one thing that kept her going, kept her sane, and had been doing so these last four years? Nearly half a decade?
No. Screw being silent. This could've been avoided. It could've been prevented. This wasn't like a car crash on a rainy day with no heroes on patrol. These guys were heroes. Heck, they couldn't have been much older than she herself! They were probably taught about these sorts of situations in whatever courses they had to undertake – there were too many academies and schools for that sort of business than she could recall off the top of her head. How was this any sort of acceptable?!
Suddenly, shadows. And a glaring, sizzling blood-red gaze locked onto her own. Lips were drawn back slightly, revealing gleaming, tightly pressed together teeth in a bitter snarl – or was it a smirk? Whatever the case, it was enough to send a shiver down Uraraka's spine. The jagged ends to his bangs didn't help, either. They only served to emphasize the points to his pearly whites; everything looked poised and ready to strike.
And boy oh boy, but did Bakugou have quite the vicious tongue on him.
"You. Where d'you get off, huh?" Uraraka felt the twitch in her features, but couldn't bring herself to turn tail, as much as this stranger's presence set off all her warning bells. She didn't know if it was as bad as the time she'd been cornered at the restaurant – probably not, but it was still Earth-shattering, on its own level. She'd been reasonable, hadn't she? She'd apologized for her earlier rudeness, but she stood by her claims: her house was gone, and he'd had a hand in its demise. Therefore...as a hero, wasn't it on him to try and figure out some sort of solution with her?
Apparently not, judging by his reaction. "I bust my balls, day in and out, tryin' t'protect sorry saps like you, so that you can have the peace of mind to live way the fuck out here – who the hell builds a house this far out in the suburbs anyway, huh?! And I just got reinstated too, but I was doing my absolute-fucking-best, to not screw it all up and get thrown in the doghouse again!" Goodness, his face was turning red, and those vibrant peepers of his were starting to bulge from their sockets almost as bad as the Noumu's had. It was rather awe-inspiring, in a twisted way, Uraraka had to admit.
It was also infuriating. "Sorry sap"? Not only that, but he'd gone so far as to insult the location of her home – she hadn't picked it out, her parents had! So, was he blaming them instead, for its demolishing? That they should've been able to foresee this happening in the future? A future they weren't even a part of anymore?!
She couldn't get a word in edgewise, however. Bakugou continued on, stress and fury powering his verbal explosion like coal to a locomotive. "THIS! This, right here – I was tryin' t'be a nice guy, and not send your pretty lil' abode all to shit, even though, by my calculations, it shouldn't have even been here in the first place!" He could practically hear his teeth wearing down with each grind, as every syllable was spit with all the force of a home run. "This wasn't intentional! But it happened! I tried not to fuck it up, but we can't always get what we want! I was doing this for the good of others! I thought it'd be better to fight down here, and lead that fucker away from the city!
"And even then, I still get shit on! Yeah, your house is gone! It sucks! But you're alive! That's what matters, right?! So get over it! Just stay in a hotel or something until the repairs are done!" By now, Bakugou was panting heavily, and ready to storm off. This girl could just curl up and cry, for all he cared. But he was not about to have a complete nobody telling him that his work wasn't good enough, that he wasn't good enough, just because of one stupid house!
Others had lost residences before, but they'd been able to pay it off, and move somewhere temporarily until it was back to normal. Either that, or they had the funds to find a new place entirely. If this girl was wealthy enough to have a house of her own, then any of these options should've been no trouble. Heated stare flickering down to regard warm chocolate brown irises, he felt a jolt in his chest at the expression that greeted him.
Childish though her features may've been, it was all too apparent that what he'd said...had touched a nerve. And not in the way he'd been expecting, either. Fists clenched tightly at her sides, Uraraka was blinking back the tears, one after another, while doing everything in her power to keep from entirely screaming at the brute who'd effectively gone and stomped all over her parents' legacy.
"'Get over it'? Get over it? That's your solution? To just say "oh well, couldn't be helped", and walk away?! This was my house! My home! I-I've lived here all my life! My parents lived here! They-They're the ones who built this place, and left it to me! Do you know how many – how many memories are – were -" In the midst of her impassioned spiel, the brunette was cut off, by a still steaming Bakugou.
"Your parents? Well, be sure to tell them: next time, don't build a home that's practically out of the district! And if it's not even your place, then all the more it should be covered!" At this, Uraraka's jaw dropped. No...he didn't. He did not. He did not just -
Covered? By what, insurance? Her family had been struggling as it was. Insurance hadn't been a big thing on their minds, especially with the business they ran. They'd kept it small, figuring that if anything else happened, they'd be around to take care of it themselves with their expertise. Whatever money was available, it wouldn't be nearly enough to cover the damages here! And she herself, with the job she currently had, could barely afford to pay the monthly bills! No way would she be able to pay the remainder of the fees!
More than that, however...
"We don't have insurance. Not enough to handle this amount of damage." At this, Bakugou snorted, pulling back from her space at long last with a shake of his head. Of course. Figures that they wouldn't. The location alone spoke volumes about the intelligence levels at play here. "Then get them t'pay outta pocket! They left the place to you, right? If they're living somewhere else, they should be able to manage that." Before Uraraka could protest, he shoved a finger in her direction. "And if they can't, then fucking start saving up, and do it yourself! Get a hotel room, and figure it out! Stay with friends! Hell, use your Quirk if ya have to!"
What world did this guy come from?! Was everyone just ridiculously wealthy and successful in his universe, born with useful Quirks, no less? Was he seriously looking down on a victim of circumstance? Her life had been rough enough without him barreling in and making it ten times worse!
Taking in a deep breath, Uraraka once more bit back on her rage, and tried to clarify her position. "I don't make enough money to pay for it myself, even if I saved up – I've tr-tried to find a second job. I don't even have enough to stay in a hotel. Nor do I have anybody e-else I can room with. A-And my parents -"
By this point, Bakugou had had enough. "SHUT UP!"