Chapter Text
“You’re cheating, cheeks.” Bakugou eyed Uraraka from his own seat by the weights, taking a momentary break to relocate his water bottle.
“Are you sure about that?” Uraraka rose from her squat, medicine ball looking as if it weighed about as much as polystyrene in her hands. “Because this thing’s pretty heavy.”
Bakugou scoffed, leaning back against the rack and running a hand through his hair. The shaved sides still caught him off guard every now and then, even though it’d been about a year since he’d asked Kirishima to give him an undercut. He hadn’t expected the other to do such a good job, in all honesty, but he supposed Kirishima’s many years of styling his own hair gave him practice.
Plus, the X’s on the sides matched his hero costume, which looked pretty fucking sick.
“Like hell it is. We both know you’ve lightened it, ‘cuz there’s no way you could be hauling that about without struggle.”
“Just because someone’s been too busy to come to the gym for a month doesn’t mean I stopped coming as well.” Uraraka dropped effortlessly into another squat, even shifting the ball to one hand so she could brush the hair that wasn’t quite long enough to fit in her halfhearted bun from her eyes.
“I have a job, round face. Not my fault I’ve been out fighting villains and saving people.”
“Mhm. And what would Kirishima say if I asked him what you’ve been doing recently?” Uraraka smirked, knowing full well she’d cornered Bakugo.
“Shut it, number 15. I don’t see you in the top ten charts.”
“Yet.”
“Tch, whatever.”
“We’re only 22, Bakugou, there’s plenty of time. Sounds like you don’t want to admit I could be stronger than you.”
“Because you’re not.” Bakugou leaned over, grabbing a couple of weights and joining Uraraka in actually doing something instead of sitting around. “I could fucking destroy you in hand–to–hand.”
“Mhm.” Uraraka looked unimpressed. “And what makes you say that?”
“Because-” Bakugou blanked. Because what?
Objectively, he was stronger than she was. At least, he thought so. Besides, he had more training, more experience fighting. His quirk was fundamentally designed for close combat.
“See? Just because I’m female doesn’t mean I’m weak. What would Kirishima think, you belittling me because of my gender? That’s pretty unmanly of you.”
“I never said you were weak, cheeks. Just that I’m stronger. It’s not fucking unmanly."
“I’m not sure if that’s an insult or a compliment.”
“Does it have to be either?” Bakugou grumbled. It was, in fact, the latter, but he had a façade to maintain.
“I mean, it would be nice…”
“Fine, you’re strong. Way more than you look. Any villain who underestimates you is gonna be sorry when you kick their ass to high hell.”
Uraraka laughed, effortlessly bright. She was best friends with the number 6 hero, after all. All of Deku’s friends seemed to have the same issue of the sun shining out their eyeballs every goddamn second. “I appreciate the sentiment, but we both know I’m a rescue hero, so fighting villains isn’t really my style.”
“You asked me for a compliment and I gave you one, now you’re complaining?”
“I’m teasing, Zero.”
Bakugou rolled his eyes and focused his attention back onto the weights in his hands.
“So do you still think you’re stronger than me?” Uraraka asked after a few minutes of silence.
“No. I know I am.”
Uraraka laughed again, throwing her head back. “Well, what do you say we settle this?”
“What d’you mean, cheeks,” Bakugou grumbled, though he had a creeping suspicion of where this was headed already.
The number 15 hero’s grin was sly. “I mean, why don’t we have a fight. A rematch, if you will.”
“A rematch of what?”
“Of our first fight, back at UA. The first–year sports festival. The one where I almost beat your ass.”
Oh, it was on.
Bakugou scoffed. “Stop kidding yourself, I annihilated you. And I’ll do it again, easy.”
“So is that a yes, or…?” Man, Uraraka had some nerve.
“Of course it’s a fucking yes, round face.” He dropped his weights with a thunk, not bothering to put them back on the rack just yet.
“Awesome! I’ll check my schedule and we can sort out a time to meet.”
Bakugou blinked for a moment, frowning. Why did they need to compare schedules?
Oh. Right. They weren’t kids any more; they had images to maintain. And if Bakugou didn’t want to be stuck at number 8 for a significantly long period of time, he was going to have to work for it. No matter, he was used to having to work for things.
But then again, it was a little different with this fight. As Uraraka had said, they were only 22, they were still young. This fight felt… more personal. It wasn’t something he was doing for the publicity, it wasn’t something he was doing for the ranking, it was only a stupid tussle between friends. Scheduling it in felt… it felt weird. It felt like it made it too official.
“Whatever.” When in doubt, grunt a filler word. It worked, most of the time.
“I’m looking forward to it.” Uraraka winked. “But I gotta go now, I’ve got patrol in an hour and I want to shower first. Here, catch.”
She threw the medicine ball to Bakugou, smiling impishly. Of course, he caught it with ease, but he wasn’t expecting its weight.
He’d been so sure she’d lightened it, at least a little, but it knocked him backwards with an involuntary ‘oof’.
“See you round, Ground Zero!” she chirped, all but skipping off before he had the chance to fire any empty threats at her. Not that he ever admitted they were empty.
-- -- --
“Ground Zero.” Ichige Okemia—Bakugou’s power force of a manager—did not look happy.
She stood in the doorway of the changing room, effectively blocking his exit. Sure, she was petite. He could probably push her out the way with a single finger, but that wasn’t the point.
“Please explain to me why I had a call from Uravity’s agency asking for corroborations on a date for a fight between the two of you.”
Bakugou felt his hair rise by a fraction, as if some unseen force had removed its weight. He knew that if he tried to move, Ichige would hold him in place, and she would succeed.
“What do you want me to explain, Rapunzel? Seems like you’ve already got all the information you need.” He continued to pull his gloves off, gauntlets already propped up by his feet.
Ichige gave his hair a yank from across the room with her quirk, jerking his head to the side with such force he shot out a hand to brace himself on the bench.
“Ow! The fuck was that for?”
“I cannot believe you went and picked a fight with a fellow pro hero. And a top twenty one at that!” Ichige’s heels clicked angrily as she made her way across the room. “I thought you wanted to become the number one hero, Bakugou. I thought you cared about your image enough not to do anything this stupid to tarnish it.”
“For your information, she was the one to propose the idea, actually.” Bakugou wrinkled his nose, sneering slightly.
Ichige stalled, eyebrows shooting up. “She did?”
“For fuck’s sake, I just told you she did. All it is is a rematch of our first year sports festival. She thinks she can beat me, and I’m going to prove her wrong by wiping the floor with her,” he said matter–of–factly, now getting to work on his boots as if he hadn’t just implied he was going to almost destroy Uraraka.
An added weight joined him on the bench, and Ichige leaned back as she sighed in exasperation. It was not an unusual sound.
“You’ve really got your mind set on this, haven’t you?”
“Yup.”
“And there’s nothing I can do to convince you otherwise.”
“Nope.”
“Working for you will be the death of me, Zero.” After a drawn–out moment, she stood again, shaking her head. “I’ll have a look at your schedule and find a time. But we will be talking about this later. Properly.” She cocked a brow, face stony. “Tell Riot to stop by more often—he seems to be the only one who can stop you from pulling impulsively reckless stunts like this.” She broke into a smile as she left, deftly slipping behind the door frame to avoid the mostly harmless explosion shot in her direction.
Sharp reflexes were a must at Bakugou’s agency, and if by chance you didn’t have them? Well, you would after a week.
Grumbling about nothing in particular, Bakugou shed the various parts of his hero costume, attempting to stand to change into his regular civilian clothes.
Key word attempting.
Because Ichige still had her hold on him, so the moment he leaned forwards, it was as if someone had grabbed his hair and yanked him back to the same position.
“Fuck you, Ichige!”
She only laughed in response, evidently not having gone all too far.
Three days later, Bakugou once more found himself seated with Ichige, this time over takeaway coffee that some management intern had been far too happy to collect.
“Okay, so.” Ichige put her own coffee down, drawing Bakugou’s gaze with her own. “We’ve compared schedules, and have found three possible days. The first is next week–”
“Done,” Bakugou interrupted, slouching in his seat. He had no image to maintain with Ichige; she’d seen him at his worst before.
“Bakugou, you cannot be so quick to decide without weighing up all the options. Is this how you expect to become number one? Well, sorry to be the one to break it to you, but it won’t work.” Ichige raised a brow and picked up a small stack of papers that Bakugou hadn’t paid any mind to.
With a huff, Bakugou conceded. “Whatever.”
“Thank you. So, as I said, we have three potential days. The first is next Thursday, giving you nine days between now and then. It would be after your morning patrol, and if we act quickly, your visit to Chiba Middle School with Red Riot can be adjusted.”
“Then why aren’t we doing that?” He wasn’t trying to push her, not really, he was just… okay, fine. He was impatient. And besides, it seemed like the perfect opportunity!
“While I agree it would be ideal to whole…” Ichige waved her free hand, bangles clinking. “Whatever it is over and done with, Uravity’s manager brought up a good point. No matter when this fight happens, people are going to see it and catch wind of it. Without any context, this could bomb both your careers. Yours especially.”
Bakugou almost spit out his coffee. “The hell? How?”
“Like it or not, the most likely outcome is that you will be blamed for starting unnecessary fights between fellow heroes. Uravity gained an incredible amount of respect for her leading efforts in the recent earthquake rescue, and seeing a hero who is known for his aggression fighting her as if she were a villain? That’s not going to go down well with the public. Do you see the issue here?”
When he’d decided to become a hero at age five, Bakugou hadn’t thought there was nearly this much to it. To him, being a hero was punching bad guys and being famous.
When he’d decided to actually become a hero at age fifteen, when he’d started at UA in one of the most prestigious hero courses the country could offer, he still hadn’t thought there was this much to it. Sure, he knew there was paperwork, he knew there was the matter of popularity, but he didn’t even think to think about how his smallest actions could affect his profession.
“Yeah,” he conceded, grumbling not-so-sweet nothings under his breath.
“Good. So Uravity’s team and I have discussed how we can avoid this issue, and we agreed that publicity is the best way to go. Instead of ruining your careers, there’s the potential to boost them, garner support and put you more in the public eye, thus increasing your chances of rising in the ranks. How does that sound?”
“What do I have to do?” Sure, Bakugou was a relatively new pro in the grand scheme of things, but he was well aware you didn’t get stuff for free in this world. At least, nothing that mattered any. Free merchandise samples were a different issue.
Ichige chuckled a little, flicking to a different page in the stack she held. “Well, we’d want to turn this into an event, first and foremost. Probably broadcast it, potentially be able to have a live audience, though that depends entirely on the battle parameters. Depending on which of the two possible later dates we select, different things can be done. There has been talk of a joint interview, of public sightings of your training in preparation, and other things like that. But through all of this, keep in mind that you and Uravity need to be sure to constantly push the mutual respect and close friend aspect, as if that falters, the whole endeavour could fall apart.”
He’d finished his coffee by now, spinning the cup idly on the table as he listened, still slouched for dramatic effect. He’d never really liked how the media tried to poke into every aspect of his—and other heroes’—life before, and had always done everything he could to keep them out. This would be somewhat the opposite, inviting them in, and showing them what he was all about.
But if he wanted this fight to happen (and he did. It was strange, but he’d become invested in the idea, in doing something for himself, not the hero association, not being at risk of literally dying), this was the price he’d have to pay.
“Fine, I’ll do it. I’ll do whatever, as long as she does it too.”
“That won’t be a problem.” Ichige once more reshuffled the papers in her hands, pulling out a pen and marking something down on one of them. “Right, so, date wise. There’s a Monday in about a month and a half’s time that could suit, neither of you have anything extra scheduled in. It would be before your evening patrol, though. There’s also a Saturday a couple of weeks after that, in two months time, give or take. You both have mid-morning patrols, but are both done by noonish. It’s up to you, we’ve already got the all-clear from Uravity that she doesn’t mind when.”
Damn her, deliberately putting all the hard decisions on him. Bakugou could imagine her grin, seemingly innocent, laced with just a little something far more scheming. He meant what he said when he said she was strong, and in more ways than only physically.
“Which one’s better?”
“I mean… it’s much of a muchness. But if you ask me, I think the later one could add an extra push to the event, especially since it’ll open up the viewing to children as well, since they won’t be in school.”
“Then go with that one. Done. Keep me updated on whatever publicity shit I need to do. I’ve got places to be.” His chair screeched when he stood, but he made sure to tuck it back under the table. He wasn’t a heathen.
“One moment, Zero.” Ichige was scribbling something down, only half looking at the paper. “I need you to read and sign this. It doesn’t have to be done now, but I need it by Friday afternoon.” She paperclipped the papers together and handed them over, smiling. “You’re free to go, I’ll see you for patrol later.”
-- -- --
Within the week, Ichige and Uraraka’s manager had seemed to sort out every detail possible for their fight. They’d found a location, organised a dozen publicity events, even come up with a campaign and ordered custom merch. Kirishima was very happy with his orange prototype ‘Team Zero’ hoodie.
Only issue was, they needed something concrete to publicise. ‘A fight’, apparently, was not concrete enough. Bakugou thought it was fine.
And thus, another meeting, this time with both heroes.
Ichige and Bakugou were first to the designated meeting place—a boutique cafe that sold the boba tea Uraraka liked, the location under her suggestion, no doubt—but it didn’t take much longer after they sat for Uraraka and her manager Shiori to join them.
Of course Uraraka’s boba had to be pink. Everything about her was pink. Her cheeks, the tips of her hair, half her goddamn hero costume was pink.
“Right!” Shiori clapped their hands together, literal stars falling from the movement. They were round and yellow, slightly squishy if you picked them up, looking like a typical kawaii cartoon’s movement lines might look. Shiori brushed them aside, half of them already fading. “Let’s get down to business, shall we?”
“Sounds good! What’s first on the list?” No wonder Uraraka and Shiori got along so well, they were both sickeningly sweet, but even Bakugou had to admit it wasn’t in a saccharine way.
“Location,” Ichige replied, trusty stack of papers in her hand. “We want to fill the both of you in on what we’ve organised so far, and then get you to help us with some final things.”
“Awesome. Man, I’m really looking forward to kicking your butt, Zero.” Uraraka’s smirk was devious.
Bakugou rolled his eyes. “Stop kidding yourself, floaty.”
“So, location wise. Uraraka, if you remember, the Takonadona ward had to be evacuated due to instability. You were, after all, at the crux of the immediate response and rescue efforts.”
“Oh shush!” Uraraka blushed, flapping her hand in Ichige’s direction. “You’re too kind, there were plenty others who were just as important.”
“Yes, but they didn’t rise nearly 30 places in the hero rankings because of it. Be proud of yourself, Uraraka!” Pale pink motion lines indicative of Shiori’s energy fell to the table, joined by a soft red heart that bounced on impact.
Bakugou picked one of the sausage-like lines up, rolling it between his fingers and squashing it as best he could. They were certifiably odd. “Listen to your manager, cheeks. Take the credit, you deserve it.”
“Aww, you do care!”
Bakugou threw the line at her.
“Anyway.” Ichige eyed Bakugou, but there was a smile creeping at the corners of her mouth. “We’ve obtained the necessary permissions from the government and have free range over the entire area. We’re looking at a few tens shy of seven hundred square kilometers of urban area. Of course, we can restrict the battlefield, but that’s up to the both of you.”
“I think using the whole thing should be fine,” Uraraka said, sipping her tea. “We shouldn’t have an issue with going over the boundaries, they’re pretty obvious. Besides, it feels much smaller once you actually get there.”
“And you, Bakugou?”
“Yeah, sure. Works for me. I’m allowed to destroy things, right?”
“Property damage won’t be a problem; the area is uninhabitable due to the quake. At least, with the current technology it is,” Shiori reassured.
“Now we’ve sorted that, we need to set down some ground rules.” As ever, Ichige wrote down the conclusion of the very short discussion on her papers. “Shiori made the point that this was your fight, so we’ve held off, but please may I suggest no maiming?”
She said it with such seriousness that a small exclamation mark popped out above Shiori’s powder blue fluff of a haircut, but they caught it quickly and hid it sheepishly in their hands.
“I’d like to second that,” they added.
“And I’ll third it.” Uraraka raised her hand as if she were voting. “So sorry Bakugou, but you’re outnumbered.”
“Like I’d even think about injuring you like that,” he scoffed. “‘N you said you wanted a rematch? It’s not a rematch if the rules are different.”
Uraraka thought for a moment, sucking on her straw. “You make a good point, but that was five years ago. We’ve grown since then.”
“So what, you’re saying we re-write the fuckin’ rulebook? I’m not Deku, I don’t give that much of a shit.”
Yeah, he agreed they needed ground rules for this. They wanted a battle, not chaos. They wanted dignity, not feral scrapping. Even when you fought a villain, there were rules you had to follow. Don’t kill, unless you have no other choice. Maintain your humanity. Don’t fight too dirty.
Villains were the least refined, if you asked Bakugou. Namely the D- and C-list villains. At least those with some semblance of power had the basic decorum, had a moral code to follow.
“No, no, I’m not that pedantic either! I think we’d really have to call him in if we decided to do that.”
Bakugou grunted his disapproval.
“I think we only really need to make a few adjustments. Keep the whole ‘rendering the other incapable’ part, and we’ve increased the boundaries, so I think we should also keep that rule. I don’t think either of us’ll ever willingly surrender, so we can probably scrap that. I think that’s about it. Thoughts?”
“That includes knocking each other out, doesn’t it? ‘Part from that it sounds good, I agree to those terms.”
The lines that rolled anew on the table were pale yellow this time. The colour probably had a meaning, but Bakugou didn’t care enough to ask.
“Ground Zero?” Shiori laughed incredulously. “Willingly accepting someone else's terms without prompting? Never thought I’d live to see the day.”
Bakugou frowned. “Yeah well, unlike most of the morons in this profession, she’s actually worth my time.” He jerked his thumb at Uraraka.
“Trust me Shiori,” Ichige leaned over, hand on their shoulder. “I’d love it if he could do this on a more regular basis.”
Everyone except Bakugou laughed.
“So, the ground rules we’ve got so far, if I was interpreting correctly,” Shiori began, motioning to count them off on their fingers. “No maiming, if you step outside the boundaries you forfeit the fight, and if you render the other incapable, you win.”
“Mhm,” Bakugou agreed.
“I know you two decided to veto the idea,” Ichige cut in, “but in the interests of safety and possible charges, I think it may be a wise idea to keep the verbal surrender. Neither of you have to use it, but looking at it from a larger perspective, it may be necessary if anything happens to go wrong.”
“On that topic, may I suggest a time limit? You’re both very strong fighters—and very determined—and I don’t know if it’s just me, but I have a feeling this fight could last days if we let it.”
“That’s a good idea, actually.” Ichige nodded her agreement, pointing at Shiori in acknowledgement. “And besides, you both have jobs, and while it would be okay to leave a patrol or two to your respective agencies due to injuries, we don’t want you fatigued.”
Shiori thought for a moment. “How’s sunset sound? As soon as the sun goes behind the horizon, it’s over, and we call it a tie, at least temporarily?”
“Psh, whatever.”
“Perfect! I hadn’t thought of that.”
Ichige’s pen scratch and Uraraka’s slurp as she sucked up boba were the only things heard for a moment.
“Okay, so,” Shiori began, clapping their hands, three lines (yellow again) appearing. “What’re we advertising?”
“A fight.”
“Bakugou,” Ichige sighed, shaking her head. “That’s not gonna sell.”
“What? It’s the truth,” Bakugou grumbled.
“Well,” Uraraka cut in, looking deep in thought. “We definitely need to mention it’s friendly. And I think tying it all back to UA would help. Give people an idea of what to expect.”
“Plus,” Bakugou sat up properly, leaning his elbow on the table between them all. “That’s literally what it is—A re-do of our first year match.”
“But why ?” was Ichige’s question. “Like… I know why, Shiori knows why, but the general public doesn’t.”
Uraraka and Bakugou shared a guilty glance at the reason why.
“D’you reckon we could spin it?” the former asked. “‘Cuz I don’t think the whole truth is gonna help us in this regard.”
“You’re proving yourself. Making a point that you shouldn’t be underestimated for your looks or gender or quirk or whatever shit people wanna underestimate you for. A rematch to show that anyone can be a hero or something.” Actually, Bakugou was rather proud of that.
“And if you win?” Shiori’s brows were furrowed.
“Still holds,” he insisted. “Quirk discrimination. Proof hard work works. Dedication is the key to success. Anyone can do it.”
Shiori nodded approvingly. “Damn, Zero. Didn’t know you had that in you. Kidding, kidding,” they added after Bakugou’s palms popped audibly.