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“Oh my God, Chako that’s amazing! So he like, just asked you out?”
Katsuki’s not an eavesdropper by nature. He can’t help it that people just talk so fucking loud. And most of the time, he doesn’t give a shit what they’re talking about in the first place. But for unexplained reasons, Mina’s shrill voice caught his ear that afternoon as the girls in their class congregated in the common room while he was studying just a table away.
“I mean, it’s not that big of a deal,” Ochako tries to downplay it, but he can hear the excitement in her voice. “But…yeah! He was actually really sweet about it, really gentlemanly, you know?”
Katsuki raises a skeptical brow as Mina and the others coo and sigh. So fucking dramatic.
He can’t see what’s happening on the couch behind him as he fills in the blank spaces on his math homework, but the conversation paints the rest of the picture. A few giggles ring through the air before the gushing resumes.
“So where’s he taking you?”
“He said there was this party that a bunch of third-years were throwing on Saturday night, I think they rented it out? Or his parents own the place?”
“Oh babe I’m sure it’s on daddy’s dime, Shindo Yo is absolutely loaded.”
The tip of Katsuki’s pencil snaps against its resting point on the paper. Shindo? The human vibrator? Cheeks is going out with that fucking douche? Yikes. He wouldn’t have pegged her as the type to have zero taste in guys, but people can sure as hell surprise you.
“Really?” Ochako asks, voice a little lower. “I-I…I didn’t know it was that big a deal…I don’t know if I have anything to wear if it’s gonna be, like…fancy.”
“Why don’t we go shopping?” Momo chimes in. “My treat, there’s a darling boutique in the city that’s owned by a family friend.”
Mina claps her hands excitedly. “Yes! Girls’ trip! This is a momentous occasion, after all.” There are a few more giggles, and Katsuki’s eyes roll all the way back to his fucking ass crack. It’s honestly embarrassing how giddy girls get about the stupidest stuff.
But whatever. If Cheeks wants to spend a few hours in the presence of a bunch of extras and some pretty boy with kindergarten level quirk, that’s her prerogative.
Good for her or whatever.
The giggling turns into idle chatter as the group rises from the couch. As they pass by Katsuki, Mina fluffs his hair with both of her ringed paws.
“Hard at work, huh Bakubabe?”
Katsuki flails his arms back to brush her away. “Knock it the fuck off, E.T.!”
She giggles and sticks her tongue out at him, catching up with the rest of the group. He gets a glimpse of Ochako’s profile as she and her friends happily saunter down the hall, ignoring the irritation roiling in his gut.
Whatever.
*****
A couple of days come and go as usual before Katsuki finds himself catching another fragment of a conversation that’s not meant for him. He’s in line at lunch rush when he hears some extra behind him say something that makes him take pause.
“Hey, Shindo, I want in on the Dogfight.”
A cocksure chuckle that certainly belongs to Shindo fucking Yo makes Katsuki's eye twitch.
“Gotta keep that on the down-low, man. You got the money?”
Katsuki’s brow wrinkles up in confusion. Money? This asshole is a fucking dogfighter?
“Sure do. And a serious contender—I’m talking real butterface.”
Shindo chuckles again. “Nice, nice. Don’t know if she’ll beat my date, though.”
Wait. Date? As in…?
Katsuki keeps his head down and listens intently.
“Oh, so you managed to find one huh?” The unnamed extra challenges.
Shindo snaps his tongue imperiously. “Course I did. Gotta seek out the desperate ones—easy to charm, quick to say yes without a second thought.”
Something really foul settles in Katsuki’s gut. He doesn’t know what’s going on, but he has a terrible feeling about it. His palms start to sweat.
“Well, she’s gotta be pretty gross if you think you’re gonna win.”
Shindo sighs assuredly and Katsuki thinks he might set off the fire alarms with how much his hands are smoking.
“Dogfight rules decree that the guy with the ugliest date takes the pot. Can you think of anything more unattractive on a girl than desperation?”
Katsuki’s face floods with heat. Rage and disgust replace the blood in his veins as little pops spark inside his trembling, clenched fists. Shindo’s hearty chuckle assaults his ears and it takes every ounce of strength he has to stop himself from tearing him to pieces right there in the cafeteria.
The conversation between Shindo and the other asshole switches topics and Katsuki moves like a zombie through the line, brain desperately trying to process and make sense of what he’s just heard. It stays in his head as he sits down at a lunch table to get a view of Shindo and his group, staring daggers in their direction.
He’s still stuck in his thoughts when Kirishima sits down across from him.
“Yo, B…you good? You’re doing that thing where you glare into space again.”
Katsuki blinks and looks at Kiri just as Sero and Kaminari join. He looks down at his clenched fists and tries to collect himself. “You ever heard of a dogfight?” he asks bluntly. Sero, Kami, and Kiri collectively look at him with equally confused gazes.
“What, like…when people make Pitbulls fight each other?”
“Ugh,” Sero shakes his head. “That shit’s just so wrong.”
Katsuki shoots him a glare across the table. “Not that kind of dogfight, Tape-for-Brains.”
Kirishima tilts his head, brow furrowed in confusion as he tries to understand. “Then what, B?”
Katsuki frowns, weighing his words carefully. What would telling them what he just heard do? And would they even believe him in the first place?
No. This isn’t his problem. He doesn’t even know for sure if it’s Cheeks he’s talking about. It’s not his business to get involved, even if it does give him a terrible sick feeling in his gut. Eventually, he glances down at his food and grabs his chopsticks.
“Nothin’.”
*****
Thursday comes along and Katsuki still can’t shake the whole thing.
It feels like everywhere he turns, he’s hearing somebody talking to Ochako about her stupid “date” with Shindo. He’ll be sitting at the breakfast table and Frog Face will ask about her dress, or Ponytail will tell her about what the parties she’s been to are like.
Alien Eyes especially won’t shut up about it. One time he heard her joke about how Ochako would sound with his last name and Katsuki had to physically restrain himself from blasting her across the room. The worst part is that she’s all smiles bright eyes and pink cheeks about the whole thing.
He does his best to ignore it since it’s not his fucking problem in the first place. But something changes when he’s walking back to the dorms from the gym that evening and he hears a familiar giggle coming from just ahead.
It’s Cheeks of course, and she’s tucking a piece of her hair behind her ear, laughing through a warm smile as Shindo grins at her. He’s leaning with one arm against the wall, propping himself up like he’s posing for a fucking photo shoot.
Katsuki’s chest rumbles with a growl as the watches the scene unfold from afar. He can’t hear what he’s saying to her, but his lips are moving, and it doesn’t take a genius to know that he’s spouting out some ingenue fucking bullshit.
The words he heard Shindo say the other day echo through his ears.
Gotta seek out the desperate ones—easy to charm, quick to say yes without a second thought.
Katsuki grinds his molars to near dust as he glares from across the way. If it were up to him, he’d knock the grin off that fucker’s face in three seconds flat. But a voice of what could perhaps be called reason clears its throat in the back of his mind. Reluctantly, he keeps himself composed and walks towards the entrance of the dorm.
As he gets closer, Shindo’s eyes flick up to acknowledge his presence. “Oh hey, what’s up, man?”
Katsuki freezes with his hand on the door. Shindo’s innocent smile and dead eyes make fingers twitch with the same kind of fiery anticipation he feels before a fight. It makes him uneasy.
Ochako turns over her shoulder and smiles as she notices Katsuki. “Hi, Bakugou,” she says sweetly before turning back to face Shindo. He glances back down at her and rubs a hand through his hair.
“So I’ll pick you up at 8 then, yeah?”
Katsuki hears one more giggle slip out of Ochako before he shoves his way through the door. She sounds excited and happy and fuck, she doesn’t even know that she’s being played by some smooth-talking asshole.
Damnit. God fucking damnit.
He can’t let this slide.
He’s gotta tell her.
*****
After Katsuki showers off and puts on a change of clothes, he heads to the common room. A few of his classmates are scattered around, chatting casually or on their phones or whatever.
He searches the room and sees Ochako at the kitchen table, dutifully taking notes from a textbook. She’s got this glow about her too, a barely-there but still noticeable smile etched on her lips.
Jesus Christ. He doesn’t know what he’ll do if she starts crying.
Whatever. He’s just gotta rip the bandaid off and then deal with the fallout later.
It takes a few seconds for the courage to build inside of him enough to propel him forward. He marches over to her and stops, hovering above her as she continues to write.
“Cheeks.”
Ochako gasps and looks up, her startled expression melting to a soft smile of relief. “Oh, Bakugou—sorry, you scared me.”
Katsuki doesn’t move, doesn’t say a word. He just stands there for a minute, jaw clenched as he looks down at Ochako’s round and open face. Her expression turns into gentle confusion.
“Is…is everything okay?”
“You can’t go to that party.”
Well, that wasn’t quite as tactful as he’d intended. Ochako’s expression freezes. “Huh?”
“You can’t go to that party. Shindo? That asshole? He’s fucking with you.”
Ochako is stunned, eyes shifting as she tries to work out what Katsuki’s saying. She shakes her head. “I don’t understand…”
“He’s—“ Katsuki opens his mouth to speak, but some shred of awareness rushes back to him and halts his words. It’s not like he’s the most considerate person in the world, but he knows he can’t just tell her about the Dogfight. That would…that’s not…something he particularly wants to deal with right now.
Ochako blinks at his silence and shrugs her shoulders. “He’s what?”
“He’s…he’s just—you just can’t go, alright?”
Katsuki internally scolds himself. Wow, you really fucking convinced her there, idiot.
The look on Ochako’s face melts from soft and receptive to something skeptical yet amused. She narrows her eyes with a suspicious half-smile. “I mean, that’s not really much of a reason, Bakugou.” She chuckles awkwardly and makes a move to turn back to her paper, but Katsuki’s words stop her again.
“You can’t actually be serious about wanting to go out with him though?”
Ochako frowns up at him, confused. “What do you mean?”
“I mean,” Katsuki fumbles, shoving his hands in his pockets and trying to meet her eyes with a knowing gaze. “He’s, y’know. He’s just, he’s a total douchebag. Some pretty fucking rich boy with no taste.”
Ochako’s eyebrows shoot up, large brown eyes blinking at him. “That’s okay, none taken.”
Fuck. That wasn’t what he meant.
“That wasn’t what I meant, Cheeks, I—“
“No, it’s fine Bakugou, really.” She turns to close her textbook, shuffling papers around and swiftly tucking them back into her backpack. “I appreciate the concern, really, but I promise I can take care of myself. I’m a big girl, you know.”
“But-“
“I’ll see you later, okay?”
And with that, Ochako rises from the table and slings her backpack over her shoulder, leaving Katsuki to stutter in shock at his own ineptitude.
So maybe that didn’t go quite as planned.
It’s not like Katsuki has ever been known for his prowess in conversation. His mom always said his mouth would get him in trouble one of these days, and boy fuckin’ howdy did he manage to get himself in a bind of his own doing. Katsuki grabs two fistfuls of his hair and scrubs his hands down his face. “Fuck me,” he whispers.
So Cheeks was definitely not gonna listen to him now. He’d just managed in inadvertently insult her with the grace and tact of a fucking wooden spoon.
But Katsuki Bakugou was not a quitter. He wasn’t gonna let this go so easily, not by a long shot. Alone in the kitchen, he glanced around and gnawed on his lip, sifting through his thoughts to try and come up with an alternate solution.
And then it hits him.
Maybe Cheeks wouldn’t listen to him…but he knew for certain there was somebody she would if they were serious enough about it.
Time for plan B.
*****
“Hey. Raccoon eyes.”
Mina spins around from her spot on the couch, resting over its back on two crossed arms. “Well hey there, Bakubabe!” She gives him a quick once over with her large eyes and frowns. “What’s up your ass? You look like you—“
“I need to talk to you.”
Mina snaps her mouth shut and raises her eyebrows, taken aback by the urgency in his voice. “Okay, well don’t pop a blood vessel.”
She lifts herself up and hops over the back of the couch, shoving her phone in her pocket as she stands before Katsuki. “What’s up?”
Katsuki glances around the room and bites his lip. He then grabs Mina’s forearm and pulls her out of the common space, around the corner and out of earshot from anybody who might be around.
“I need you to talk Cheeks out of going to that freak’s party.”
Mina’s expression melts into an imperious smirk, eyes narrowed at Katsuki. “Oh do I?” She hums and crosses her arms. “Why’s that now?”
“Because,” Katsuki insists. “He’s a dick, alright? And he’s…he’s not asking her out ‘cuz he likes her. He’s playing games.”
The urgency in his voice only seems to amuse Mina more. She sighs dramatically and raises her eyebrows. “Bakugou, if you like her you can just tell her that, you know. I’m sure she’d be flattered.”
Katsuki’s face wrinkles up. He shakes his head. “The fuck? No! That’s not why, okay?”
“Then give me another good reason I should convince her to cancel a date with Yo Shindo , resident third-year hottie with a vibration quirk. ”
Mina's coquettish implication make him irrationally angry, almost to the point of nausea. He doesn’t even want to begin to think about that, about someone like Yo fucking Shindo getting to—
Katsuki snuffs out those thoughts before they can go somewhere he doesn’t want to follow. When he realizes that Mina isn’t going to budge, he purses his lips and glances to the side.
“Shit,” he mumbles, “okay. He’s…”
Why are the words so hard to say?
Mina’s patience is wearing thin and he knows it. So he forces himself to get on with it. He looks earnestly into her eyes and speaks as plainly and seriously as he can.
“I heard him talking to some fuckin’ extra about this party. He called it a Dogfight, and it’s like, this game where they bring people to this party and the guy with the ugliest date wins all this money or something.”
Katsuki watches Mina’s face intently for a look of disbelief or shock. But she doesn’t do anything except blink at him, unamused.
“Bakugou,” she says calmly. “This isn’t a teen rom-com from the 90s. There’s no way that’s a thing.”
Katsuki stares at her in horror. “Are you kidding me? I heard him talking about it with my own fucking ears!”
“Maybe you made a mistake? It’s Shindo, Bakugou. He’s like, a really sweet guy! Besides, you really think that enough people would go along with something like that?”
The condescending tone makes Katsuki feel like he’s going insane. “I know what the fuck I heard! They called it a Dogfight, the other guy mentioned something about a butterface and Shindo was saying—”
Mina clicks her tongue and shakes her head. “Listen Baku—“
“Ashido.”
Katsuki grips her shoulders and forces her to look at him, to really look him in the face and see for herself the sincerity in his eyes. Her words stop in her mouth as she meets his gaze with her own genuine confusion. “I’m not fucking around here. He’s gonna make a fool of her. Not just embarrass or tease her, fucking humiliate her. She’s your friend, you really want to watch that happen?”
Mina is quiet, her face still and thoughtful. After a moment, she concedes with a sigh. “Okay, I’ll…I’ll figure this out.”
A pang of relief rings through Katsuki’s stomach. “You will?”
“Yeah, I will. Okay?”
She wiggles out of his grip and shakes her head, scrubbing a hand through her wild pink hair.
“I don’t know if I can really convince her, but you seem pretty serious about whatever this is.” She waves her hand and vaguely gestures toward him. “So…I’ll come up with something.”
Katsuki feels his shoulders droop, an unseen weight lifting off of them and giving him space to breathe. “Okay,” he nods. “Um. Thanks.”
Mina shrugs. “I’m not making any promises here.”
“I know,” Katsuki says quickly. “It’s…yeah, I know.”
There’s an awkward pause between the two of them for a moment. Katsuki shoves his hands in his pockets and glances away.
“Well,” Mina says. “I’m, uh. Gonna go back to the common room. If that’s alright with you.”
Katsuki glares at her for a moment, but there’s no real anger behind it. “Yeah.”
He watches Mina make her way back towards the couch as she pulls her phone out of her pocket. Left alone in the hall, he closes his eyes with a small sigh of relief.
Okay. Things were gonna be okay.
*****
Katsuki spends the following day in a strange state of hyperawareness. Unable to focus on anything his teachers were saying, he finds himself anxiously bouncing his knee or rolling his pencil between his fingers as he watches Ochako in his peripheral, trying to read her facial expressions.
Mina said she’d talk to her. He’d done his best to convince her that he was being genuine about this, and it seemed like she’d gotten the message.
But if that was the case…why wasn’t Ochako acting more…upset?
The day passes without incident, and it’s only in their last period that Katsuki overhears something that makes his stomach drop.
They’ve got open gym to spend sparring or training however they need, and after a rather grueling session of close combat with Kirishima, he’s grabbing a drink from the water fountain when he hears her voice.
He really needs people to stop speaking so fucking loudly in front of him, because this shit’s going to give him a fucking aneurysm one day.
“How are you holding up, ‘Chako-chan?” Momo asks as she bites into a protein bar. Ochako sighs, a little breathless from strength training.
“Oh, you know…fine? Maybe, just…anxious?”
Katsuki’s brow wrinkles in confusion. So maybe it just…didn’t matter to her as much as he thought it would? Why would she be anxious?
Momo hums in knowing agreement. “There’s no need to be, though. You’re gonna have a great time. It’s a party, after all!”
Katsuki’s heart drops all the way into the deepest pit of his gut. Ochako sighs again.
“You’re right. Maybe I’m just overthinking it, you know? I’ve never been asked out before, and it’s just…”
The conversation trails off as Katsuki’s thoughts start to spin.
So she’s still going? Even after finding out? Why? How? What happened?
Something isn’t adding up.
Mina. He needs to talk to Mina.
Katsuki scans the room until his eyes zero in with laser-like focus on Mina, who’s giggling about something with Kirishima and Kaminari. He wastes no time marching right over to them, effectively halting their conversation.
Kaminari spots him first and raises an enthusiastic hand in the air.
“Heyyyy look at that hot Bakubody!” he hollers, but Katsuki doesn’t even breathe in his direction. Instead, he goes straight to Mina and lowers his voice.
“We need to talk. Now. ” He rumbles through grit teeth, and that’s the only warning she gets before he grabs her bicep and whisks her away to a spot in the gym away from everyone else.
“Hey! Easy, your hands are so damn sweaty—“
“What the fuck, Pink? I just heard Cheeks talking about going to that damn party!”
Mina grumbles and pulls her arm out of Katsuki’s grasp. “You really need to stop listening in on conversations that aren’t meant for you, y’know.”
“You told me you were gonna take care of it,” he says, ignoring the comment. “Why the fuck is she still going out with that dick?!”
“I did take care of it,” Mina retorts. She crosses her arms in front of her chest, chin lifted in confidence.
“I talked to Shindo about it, and guess what? I was right. You completely misheard the conversation. Which wouldn’t happen if you stopped eavesdropping for once.”
Katsuki’s face colors a furious shade of red as he sputters in disbelief.
“Wha- y-you—you talked to him?”
“You told me to take care of it. So I went to the source to confront him. And you know what? He looked at me like I was insane! He said he had no idea what a ‘dogfight party’ was, and that the whole thing actually sounded pretty fucked up.”
Every cell in Katsuki’s body buzzes at the sheer audacity of the situation. He’s maybe three seconds away from tearing his hair out and throwing it like fucking confetti all over the gym.
“Y-You—what the fuck, E.T.! Of course he’s not gonna tell you the fucking truth, why would you even mention it to the fucker?!”
“Because I think you’ve got a case of “hearing what you wanna hear” syndrome.” Mina bites back. It stuns Katsuki into silence, mouth agape in horror as she continues.
“I don’t think it would kill you to be honest with yourself, you know. If you like Uraraka, then just tell her! But don’t go spinning people’s words into something that they’re not just because you don’t know how to process your feelings.”
Mina marches away, turning over her shoulder to shout, “He’s not a bad guy! Just say you’re jealous and get on with it!”
Left alone to stew in a darkened corner of the gym, Katsuki’s heartbeat quickens as he tries to comprehend this absolute elephant of a clusterfuck. He keeps his fists clenched at his sides as little pops start to set off inside the cups of his palms. The crackling gives him something to focus on as he sorts through this shit in his mind.
The party is tomorrow night. Ochako is still clueless about the whole thing, and his only plan B probably just put Shindo on alert.
Fucking incredible.
He needs a plan C. Something that can stop her from going for real this time. But he doesn’t want to tell her outright. He tried to tiptoe around it last time and look where that got him.
He broods in that corner of the gym for the rest of the period, furiously trying to solve this quickly escalating problem. He’d cut off a toe for an intelligence quirk at this point if it gave him any answers.
After failing to come up with another solution, he swallows hard and takes a deep breath. He’s gonna have to do what he should have just done in the first place.
He’s gotta tell her the truth.
*****
By some miracle or curse, he and Ochako are on cleaning duty tonight. It presents him with the perfect opportunity to chat with her alone, to rip the bandaid off and give it to her straight about this Dogfight bullshit.
But they’re alone, which means there won’t be anyone to serve as a barrier to the emotional fallout that could occur when he tells her the truth. It’ll just be the two of them, with her possibly crying and sulking while they mop the fucking floors.
Katsuki opts to hold his tongue until the very end of it, when they’re taking out the last of the trash. At least then if she starts crying, he can maybe shepherd her over to one of her friends to cushion the blow.
They’re outside and tying the garbage bags up. Ochako tosses a couple into the dumpster and wipes her hands off on her pants.
“That should do it then,” she says brightly. “I can go put the cleaning supplies away if you want.”
She turns to go, but something possesses Katsuki to reach out and grab her wrist. Ochako halts in surprise, gaze flicking back and forth between where he’s got her in his grasp and his face.
“What’s, uh. What’re you doing?” she half-chuckles awkwardly. Katsuki lets her go and straightens up.
It’s now or fucking never.
“I have to tell you something, Cheeks. And I need you to listen to me—like, really fucking listen. Okay?” He swallows hard and can feel his heartbeat pulsing in his tongue. Ochako nods very slowly, crossing her arms over her chest as the breeze whips around them.
“Okay, Bakugou.”
Katsuki’s chest expands as he takes a deep breath. “You can’t go to that party tomorrow night.”
Any trace of sympathy or receptiveness that may have been present on Ochako’s face almost immediately falls away, replaced by an unamused and irritated frown. “Look, Bakugou. I don’t know what it is you have against me going to this party, but I’m not gonna skip it just because—“
“It’s a Dogfight,” he blurts out clumsily. Ochako tilts her head.
“A what?”
“I heard— fuck,” Katsuki hisses to himself, scratching at the back of his head. “I heard Shindo talking about it to some extra. It’s…it’s like this fucked up game, where they all bring a date to this party, and- it’s, they call it a dogfight, but it’s—“
“Bakugou,” Ochako finally says. Her voice is stern but calm. “What are you doing? Are you trying to hurt my feelings or something because...what—you’ve got some weird beef with Shindo?”
Katsuki’s brow bunches up. He quickly shakes his head. “What? No! I don’t give a shit about that asshole.”
“Then what is all this?” she throws her hands up in exasperation. “You’ve been so weird around me this entire week, you keep glaring at me whenever I talk to him, and now you’re trying to keep me from going to a party because it’s…it’s a game?”
“No, I need you to listen to me—he’s lying you to, okay? He’s only invited you to his stupid party as a joke, and you’re gonna be fucking humiliated if you go.”
Ochako’s frustration is palpable as she watches Katsuki continuously fumble over his words.
“I heard him, okay? He called you desperate, he doesn’t care about you, he never fucking did because it’s all a joke to him!”
Katsuki feels the daggers in Ochako’s glare pierce him in the chest. “You’re lying. Why would- why would he…why would you say that?”
“I’m not fucking lying!” Katsuki shouts. “Why else would someone like him ask you out?!”
The second the words leave his mouth, he wishes he could shove them back in.
The weight of those words darkens Ochako’s expression, morphing it into a terrible grimace that reeks of hurt and rage. He shakes his head, eyes wide and palms sweating.
“That’s…no, no I didn’t mean it like that—“
“How did you mean it then?” Ochako hisses back, quietly but fork-tongued. The tremble in her tone makes Katsuki nauseous.
“I just meant—he’s, he’s a piece of shit, Cheeks, and you—“
“Y’know it’s funny,” she interrupts. “You keep saying that but you don’t seem to have any evidence to back up your reasoning. Because between the two of you, only one of you has insulted me to my face multiple times. So really Bakugou, if you’re trying to find out who the asshole is here, save yourself some time and go look in a mirror.”
Before Katsuki can get another word in edgewise, Ochako’s already briskly storming back towards the dorms, her exit punctuated a few moments later by the loud slam of a door.
Katsuki doesn’t move from his place for a good handful of minutes, letting the chill of the open air sting his cheeks. She’s not wrong, and he knows it. He is an asshole. An undeniable, total fucking asshole. He starts to wonder if seeing her cry would’ve been less painful.
It’s a long while before he heads back inside. When he does, he sees that the cleaning supplies are all still sitting out. He puts them away and drags himself back to his room.
He tried. He really fucking tried this time.
*****
Saturday morning sun comes in strong through Katsuki’s window and it’s so bright it feels like one massive “fuck you” from the universe.
He’s hungover with a horrible cocktail of guilt and dread, unable to shake away the dregs of shame that Ochako’s words have left behind.
He fucked up, and he hates fucking up. He hates failing, and he really failed on this one.
Really he should just be pissed off. Shindo is gonna get away with this Dogfight, Ochako is gonna get hurt, and it all could’ve been prevented if someone had just listened to him. But the sentiment just doesn’t stick like it used to. He can’t hold onto the anger for long enough to absolve himself from the dread of it all.
He opts to try shoving it aside instead. Because at the end of the day, it’s not his problem, and it wasn’t his problem to begin with. He can’t even remember why he got so hung up on this in the first place. People get hurt. It stings, but it doesn’t kill them. They get over it. The world still fucking turns.
It still doesn’t feel right, but it feels more tangible than anger does, so he clings to it and wears it on his sleeve as he mopes about the day.
He’s grateful that the afternoon passes in an uneventful blur—a strange and hollow blur, but uneventful nonetheless. He starts to convince himself that it’s just a few hours away from becoming an embarrassing but fleeting memory to add to the pile.
But old habits don’t die hard for Katsuki—they die slow and painful before giving one last final gasp and floundering on the floor.
That last gasp comes to him when he’s heading back to his dorm from the bathroom, and he just so happens to overhear a few familiar voices coming from the common room. There’s the sound of the door opening, and then that stupid, disgusting, slithery fucking voice.
“Hey! Uraraka, you look amazing.”
Katsuki can’t help himself. He freezes in his place, then carefully peers around the corner, making sure to stay hidden as he steals a glance just in time to see Shindo plant a kiss atop Ochako’s hand.
Oh, that showy mother fucker.
Ochako giggles bashfully and tucks a strand of styled hair behind her ear. “Thanks, Shindo…I, well, I mean you look great, too! I-I like your blazer, haha.”
She’s dressed to the nines, wearing something pink and puffy and soft that makes her look like a flower in full bloom. A pit settles deep in Katsuki’s stomach. She…fuck. She looks so happy.
Shindo leans close to her ear and says something Katsuki can’t make out, but Ochako’s excited giggle and nod confirm his suspicions. The fucker’s really laying it on thick.
Shindo pulls back and smiles down at her, before stepping to the side and pulling the door open. He gestures grandly towards the entrance. “After you,” he says.
Katsuki watches as Ochako lowers her head and steps through the door, with Shindo following close behind. The second the door closes, a fire’s been lit in his gut. Any paltry excuses or half-assed attempts to set his feelings aside go up in flames as he storms back to his room.
Fuck this.
He’s going to that fucking Dogfight.
*****
It’s not exactly hard to figure out where this party is. A little bit of searching online tells him his parents own some fancy hotel empire, and the nearest one is just a few minutes by car into the city. Maybe a half-hour by train. He’s able to confirm the location with a phone call to the front desk, and then he’s on his way there before the hour passes.
The issue isn’t getting there, he quickly realizes as he runs from the train station to the hotel.
It’s getting in.
He discovers this when he tries to up and walk into the ballroom and a security guard who towers over him by a couple of heads at least stops him.
“Name?” The giant asks.
“Hah?” Katsuki barks. The security guard raises his eyebrows.
“What’s your name, kid?”
Katsuki’s eyes flick down to the clipboard he’s holding that’s certainly got a guest list on it.
Fuck. For whatever reason, it failed to register to Katsuki that there might be someone checking names at the door. On top of that, he’s just angrily stalked his way over to this ballroom, hair unkempt and dressed in well-worn joggers.
“I-I, um…” Katsuki clears his throat and tries to straighten himself up a bit. “Listen, I’m not on the list, but I’ve gotta—“
The hulking security guard frowns and shakes his head. “Sorry, kid. Not getting in if you’re not on the list.”
Katsuki’s throat bobs as he swallows hard. Shit. Fuck.
“You don’t understand,” he practically pleads, “It’s, s’an emergency and I just have to talk to someone in there. I can give you her name, I just need to talk to her for a second.”
God, he abhors the way his voice sounds right now. If it were up to him, he’d blast his way through the building without so much as a second thought. But he’d really like to avoid misdemeanor property damages if he can help it. He pushes further.
“I, listen, I just need two minutes. I won’t stay, I can, I’ll even stay right here, but- if you bring her over, I just need to talk to them. Her name’s Uraraka Ochako, she should be on the list…”
Katsuki takes a deep breath and does his best to express his sincerity to this brick shithouse of a man. “Please. I just- just two minutes. I’ll leave after, I swear.”
Maybe his pleas had some effect on the guy; maybe he was just tired of dealing with some shitty teenager. But the guard looks him up and down once with a frown and keeps his eyes on him as he brings a portable radio to his mouth.
“Wait here.”
Katsuki nods frantically. “Thank you, yeah, I’ll just- I’ll be quick, I really appreciate it—“
The buzz of relief and adrenaline swirling through his blood almost immediately boils away as the security guard steps aside. Behind him, someone makes their way closer to Katsuki, wearing a neutral expression that quickly morphs into a sinister, bemused grin the moment he meets his eyes.
Shindo.
“Well, now this is a real treat isn’t it?” Shindo regards Katsuki with an air of amusement as he crosses his arms. Katsuki feels his hands tremble as rage courses through his body.
“Fuck you.” Katsuki spits back. Shindo smirks and narrows his eyes.
“Looks like you’re on a mission, huh? Very noble of you, Katsuki.”
“Don’t you fucking say my name,” he steps right up into Shindo’s face, their noses just inches apart. “I know what this is. You’re a piece of shit and a fucking idiot if you think you’re gonna get away with this.”
Shindo rears his head back with an exaggerated laugh. “I have no idea what you’re even talking about. We’re just having a fun little party here.” Something malicious flashes in his eyes as he says, “Uraraka’s having a great time. She looks great, doesn’t she?”
Katsuki has never felt such rage in his life. The fire of Shindo’s funeral pyre burns in his eyes as he clenches his smoking fists. He can feel his nails leaving little crescent-shaped cuts in his palms. Shindo takes advantage of the silence and snaps his tongue.
“Tsk, look at you. You’ve got some nerve showing up here. But I guess you’ve just got a habit of sticking your nose in places where it doesn’t belong.”
“Why her, huh?” Katsuki snaps back. “There’s gotta be a bunch of girls you could’ve gone for. Why Uraraka?”
Shindo hums and puts his hands in his pockets with a shrug. “Think you heard what I said: desperation is a terrible look on a girl. You can smell it from a mile away. Like trash.”
Katsuki’s hand sparks up at his side, and Shindo looks down at it with a pitiful pout.
“Aw, getting worked up, huh? Well, we can’t have a fire hazard like you making a scene.”
Shindo steps back and flicks his chin at the security guard. “Get him out of here.”
Katsuki doesn’t have time to say anything else before the guard takes him by the bicep and starts to pull him away. Shindo turns over his shoulder with a grin and raises his hand in the air, walking back towards the party.
“I’ll tell her you said hi!”
Katsuki doesn’t fight it as he’s ushered out of the hotel doors and onto the sidewalk. He can’t fight it—he’s stunned into silence, his rage so toxic and acrid it makes him dizzy. He doesn’t know what to do with all of it.
But Katsuki Bakugou is not a fucking quitter.
If Shindo wants to throw down the fucking gauntlet, so be it. But he’s not getting a duel.
He’s getting a war.
*****
It’s times like this that Katsuki’s stubbornness really becomes more useful than his quirk.
Every building has multiple exits and entrances, and Katsuki doesn’t give a shit about consequences or trespassing at this point. It doesn’t take him long to scout the building and find an emergency exit towards the back of the hotel.
He’s only made certain that it’s the right one when he hears it open with a loud /slam/, prompting him to drop to the ground and hide away in a nearby bush. A few thorny branches scrape his arms and face as he scrambles to conceal himself before being seen.
Jesus. This whole thing really has him hiding in the bushes like a fucking creep. But he doesn’t have the time to care when he hears a pair of unknown voices chatting outside.
“Got a light?” one says to the other. There’s a click of a lighter, then a half-second of silence before one of them speaks as he exhales.
“So where’d you find yours?” he asks casually. The other guy scoffs.
“Met her at my internship. You?”
The other guy speaks and Katsuki recognizes his voice from the line at lunch rush.
“She’s in the gen course. Saw her during free period and knew she’d be perfect—total butterface.”
Yep, that’s the guy. Stupid fucker.
The way he snorts indignantly makes Katsuki’s skin itch with the burning desire to snap both of his legs. He doesn’t have time to dwell though, and he manages to quiet his racing thoughts enough to hear them continue.
“You think you’ll win? There’s some nasty ones in there.”
“Think I’ve got a shot,” he chuckles and takes another audible drag. “But you’re not wrong. Who knew it’d be so easy to find so many desperate bitches?”
Katsuki’s trembling with rage. He hates them. He wants to go full Carrie and burn them all to the fucking ground. There are a few more chuckles and idle chatter before the other asshole says something that gives him pause.
“Last dance is about to start—better head back in or we’ll miss the crowning.”
There’s some shuffling as the guys head back in before Katsuki has a chance to ignite the bushes, the heavy metal door slamming shut behind them.
So the last dance is where they’re gonna…crown the winner. Of the Dogfight.
Fuck. He doesn’t have a lot of time.
When he’s certain the coast is clear, he awkwardly stumbles his way out of the bushes and books it to the door. He goes for the handle and gives it a sharp tug, but it doesn’t budge.
Damnit.
A few more rough tugs prove to be just as fruitless, even when he props his foot up against the fall for purchase. His sweaty palms don’t make it any easier. Stupid shitty clammy-hand quirk—
An idea.
Katsuki pauses and stares down at the handle, glistening with his own explosive sweat.
Okay, so maybe property damage wasn’t initially on the agenda for the night. But it’s not like he’s gonna blow the place up (as much as he wants to).
He takes a second to put his foot back down on the ground and steady his breathing. If he just focuses, he can keep the damage to a minimum, just enough to loosen the bolt and not take the whole thing off its hinges.
Katsuki presses one palm to the seam of the door while keeping a steady grip on the handle. He takes a deep breath and narrows his eyes, and on the exhale, he sends the tension into his palms and converts it to a small combustion.
The door rattles as Katsuki pulls on the handle with a rough jerk, releasing the lock and effortlessly pulling it open. His shoulders drop and he can’t contain the smirk that crosses his lips.
Hell yeah. Problem solved.
He doesn’t stay to revel in his pride, though. Music blares through the speakers and crowds his brain as Katsuki gets pulled back to the present.
The emergency exit has brought him right into the ballroom, where darkened lights and slow-dancing couples fill the space. None of them seem to have noticed Katsuki though, too distracted by their dates to notice. The song isn’t over yet, which means he’s still got time to get Ochako out of here before Shindo has a chance to humiliate her.
That is if he can find her.
Katsuki shoulders his way through the crowd and bumps into the swaying couples, regarding him with scowls or gasps of annoyance.
“Hey, watch it!” Some extra grumbles as he moves along. He shrugs it off and continues his search, desperately searching for Ochako. He can hear the song approaching its end and panic begins to pool in his gut.
“Shit,” he hisses to himself, turning over his shoulder to frantically look around the room. There are too many faces, too many bodies, the lights aren’t bright enough and he doesn’t know what to do. The music fades, and the couples' dancing comes to an end, applauding as the emcee’s voice blares through the speakers.
“Alright, alright! Before we say goodnight, we’ve got a little surprise lined up. If all the ladies can join me up here at the front for a special announcement.”
Fuck. No. No.
The guys in the room applaud as their dates glance around bashfully, before making their way to the front of the ballroom. The lights come up, and that’s when Katsuki sees her.
His heart throbs in his throat as he books it across the room, managing to grab hold of her arm as she crosses the center of the room. Ochako stumbles a bit at the rough tug, and when she turns over her shoulder, a look of sheer horror colors her face.
“B-Bakugou?” her eyes are wide with shock and mortification as she rips her arm out of his grasp. “What the hell are you doing here?”
“Uraraka, I need you to listen to me—this asshole is going to embarrass—“
His words are stopped when he feels a hand roughly fall on his shoulder before he gets jerked around by Shindo.
“You really don’t know when to quit, do you?” Shindo spits right up in his face. There’s no cocksure grin on his face now, no smug satisfaction. Just pure irritation and rage.
“Fuck you!” Katsuki barks back. “You’re a spineless sack of shit and a fucking sociopath, fucking around with people’s feelings for some stupid game!”
He doesn’t mean to lose control—he really doesn’t. But the rage that’s been slowly and steadily building for days finally boils over as he shoves Shindo with two hands. The shove doesn’t send him back too far, but it does prompt him to return the favor. He pushes Katsuki back with enough force to make him stumble, and Katsuki can feel the vibration of his quirk rattle him through it.
Katsuki’s palms begin to smoke with the anticipation of a fight. He loses all sense of self-control and lunges for Shindo, tackling him to the ground in the middle of the dance floor. Katsuki is all fire and fury, grappling with Shindo without regard for the gathering crowd around them.
“Enough, just STOP IT!”
Katsuki feels a hand press against his back, and the air around him changes as he feels himself float off the ground and away from Shindo, who’s also now hovering under Ochako’s touch.
“What the hell is wrong with you?!”
She brings her hands back together and releases them both, sending them clumsily down to earth without regard. Katsuki regains his balance and finds himself meeting Ochako’s teary, furious eyes. He doesn’t have a chance to say anything else before she ducks her head and runs out of the ballroom.
“Ura—!”
He makes a move to go after her but is instead grabbed by both of his arms by two pairs of hands. Katsuki kicks and flails to try and break out of their grasp, but fails to break free before he’s tossed out of the door he snuck in through.
The chill of night air shocks his sweaty skin as his body collides roughly with the ground, the wind getting knocked from his lungs as he lands.
“F-Fuck,” he sputters and tries to catch his breath. The next thing he knows, Shindo is right there in his face, holding him close by a handful of hair like he’s scruffing a dog.
“Look at the mess you’ve made, Katsuki.” He growls low in his face. “Now get the fuck out of here before I call the cops.”
Shindo releases his hold and shoves him back down at the same time, leaving Katsuki in a pathetic heap on the ground as the door slams shut.
His fury begins to fade into a heavy lead blanket of shame. It keeps him pinned to the ground for a few long minutes before he finds the strength to push himself back up. He scrubs a hand through his hair and ducks his head as the weight of what’s he done settles on him like radioactive fallout.
He knows that nobody would ever call him a good person. But he wanted to do good this time. He wanted to help someone, to stop them from getting hurt, to protect them. That’s what heroes are supposed to do, aren’t they?
At the end of the day, everything he did only ended up hurting Ochako more. And any paltry excuse or justification he could come up with doesn’t change the fact that he was in the wrong here.
He eventually finds it in himself to make his way back to the train station and to the dorms, where he solemnly drags himself down the hall and toward his room. Before he opens his door, he sighs and rests his head against the woodgrain.
His head is full to bursting with thoughts he can’t process right now. He needs to fix this. But trying to “fix” has only created more hurt, more mess. He needs to cut the loss and move on. He just—he can’t figure out how.
Before he realizes it’s happening, Katsuki’s feet carry him away from his door and back down the hall. The muscle memory does the work for him, gently leading him until he stops in front of a door that’s not his own.
He takes a breath and reluctantly knocks on it.
His heart jumps as he hears the lock click from the other side of the threshold, and when it finally opens, two large eyes are staring at him quizzically.
“Kacchan?”
“I need your help, Nerd.”
*****
In the familiar yet strange comfort of Deku’s room, Katsuki’s waterlogged head becomes a fountain. The dam keeping his feelings inside swells and breaks, and he can’t find it in himself to stop the outpouring even if he’s wanted to.
He tells Deku everything—about Ochako, about Shindo, about the Dogfight...about his stupid mistakes.
Deku listens to him, thoughtfully and quietly, lower lips pinched between his fingers as he watches Katsuki pick at a loose thread on his tattered All Might blanket. It takes a bit for Katsuki to finish speaking, and when he does, Deku exhales softly.
“Wow, Kacchan…that’s. That’s a lot.” He says plainly but gently. Katsuki scoffs at the obvious statement but there’s no bite behind it.
“You’re fuckin’ telling me.”
Deku shakes his head and glances off to the side in thought. “They really called it a “Dogfight”? That’s…that’s so cruel. Those poor girls.”
Katsuki’s eyes widen in surprise. “So you believe me?” he asks. Deku looks at him, brow knit with concern.
“Of course I do, Kacchan. I mean, you willingly came to me asking for help. Think we can both agree you wouldn’t do that unless it was something serious.”
Katsuki feels one of the knots residing in his stomach untangle a little bit. “Yeah,” he huffs under his breath. He’s right. “So how do I fix it?”
Deku takes a second to think about it, catching his lower lips between his teeth. “To be honest Kacchan…I don’t know.”
Katsuki takes a long, steady breath. “Raccoon Eyes thought I was making it all up. Said I needed to just “admit my feelings and get on with it.” But it- it wasn’t like that. I know what I fucking heard. Was just trying to help.”
“Both can be true, you know.”
He snaps his head to glare at Deku. “I don’t like her like that, dipshit.”
He says it, but there’s no bite to his bark. It catches him off guard, and Deku’s looking at him with this soft, knowing expression.
“Kacchan…”
Katsuki feels something bloom in his chest and under his skin. The realization comes in like a tiptoe. He looks down at his palms, then back up at Deku’s stupid face.
“…fuck.”
He’s so tired of people being right.
“You’re a lot alike, you know.” Deku muses. Katsuki scoffs and squints at him skeptically, the reaction prompting him to continue. “I’m serious! You’re both so stubborn. It’s kind of funny, actually.”
He chuckles lightly to himself and shakes his head. “And you’re both so hard on yourselves. If you’re not winning, you’re losing. There’s no grey area for you two.”
“Oh fuck off, Nerd,” Katsuki grumbles. “I get it, alright?”
He catches Deku’s half-smile out of the corner of his eye as he turns his attention back to the comfort of the fraying blanket. “…I just didn’t want her to get hurt.”
“I know. But nobody can protect everyone. We can try, but...” Deku sighs and scratches the back of his neck. “…things don’t work out that way.”
Katsuki closes his eyes for a moment. Deku’s changed a lot since they were kids. He’s learned from his mistakes—grown from them. He can’t help but feel the sting of that gap between them as he replays all the chances he had to do the same that he bungled out of sheer panic. Deku’s voice is low and gentle when he speaks again.
“You are a good person, Kacchan.”
His words hang heavy in the air, and the longer they do, the more Katsuki wishes he could believe him.
“Don’t need your pity, Deku.” He mumbles under his breath as he stands up and makes his way toward the door. He pauses at the door but doesn’t turn his head.
“…Thanks, though. Shitty nerd.”
Before he can turn the handle, Deku’s voice stops him.
“Kacchan? I think…there might be something you can do.”
*****
Katsuki’s thirst wakes him up in the middle of the night. He clumsily staggers out of bed and catches sight of his alarm clock as he heads to the door. 1:17 a.m.
He makes his way to the kitchen and fumbles for the light, squinting as his eyes adjust to the harsh fluorescence. Muscle memory takes over as he goes through the motions, locating a glass and turning on the tap til it runs cold. But the monotony of his movements is interrupted by the abrupt sound of the front door opening,
His position at the sink puts him in just the right spot to see the small silhouette of a familiar body shuffle quietly inside.
Katsuki swallows hard. Any exhaustion he’d been feeling promptly fizzles away into nothing as Ochako turns around and stops in her tracks. The lights in the room are dim, but it’s not hard to see she’s been crying.
Everything about her is reminiscent of a wilted flower, from the way her shoulders droop and her dress hangs on her body, to smudged eye makeup and the curls that have fallen out of shape.
Time hangs on a knife’s edge. The water pouring into Katsuki’s glass has long overflown and is soaking his hand as he watches Ochako slowly trudge her way over to the kitchen table.
She slowly and wordlessly plants herself in a chair and wipes at her eyes with the back of her hand. Katsuki can tell she’s trying to keep her composure, can see the way her lower lip wobbles and her chest shakes with the urge to sob.
To his surprise, there’s no tension in the air between them. There’s no sense of satisfaction, no victory or moment of “I told you so” that Katsuki maybe would’ve convinced himself to feel before.
It’s just shitty. Nothing about this feels good.
Not knowing what else to do, Katsuki goes to the cabinet and finds another glass. He fills it high with cool water from the tap, and every footstep he takes toward the table feels like it’s in slow motion.
Katsuki slides the glass to her, a silent peace offering as he seats himself in a chair across the table. Ochako looks up at him through her smudgy eyelashes and sniffles once.
“I’m sorry for what I said.” Her voice is rough, vocal cords audibly marred by crying or screaming, or a combination of both.
Katsuki shakes his head and focuses on the water in his glass. “Don’t be. I was an asshole.”
She wraps both of her hands around the glass and sniffles again. “I was rude. I shouldn’t have been so dismissive.” Her voice softens when she says, “I realize now that…you were only trying to help.”
There’s a long silence between them. He doesn’t want to ask about what happened after he left, what occurred between then and now that left her like this. The little details don’t matter but it doesn’t stop the way something foul churns in Katsuki’s stomach as his mind fills in the gaps.
“I’ll break his fucking legs,” he grits out. “Son of a bitch.”
Ochako sighs softly and shakes her head. “Think I may have beaten you to the punch—“ she blinks up at him and adds, “—no pun intended.”
It takes Katsuki’s still sleep-worn brain a second to register what she’s just said. When it does finally hit him, his head snaps up to blink at her. “Did- did you…kick his ass?”
To his surprise, Ochako squints and teeters a hand, like she’s internally debating what qualifies as kicking someone’s ass. “Well,” she starts, “I wouldn’t say that…” she glances up and picks timidly at the pink pads of her fingers. “But I might’ve broken his nose.”
Something feels like it swells in Katsuki’s chest. He can’t really put a name to it, though—but the closest thing that comes to his mind is pride. They’re both quiet for a moment.
And then, something different happens.
Ochako smiles.
It’s small, and there are still tears in her eyes and smeared mascara on her cheeks, but it’s a change. Katsuki has to bite his lower lip to try and suppress the chuckle that threatens to escape his mouth, but it doesn’t really work. Her big brown eyes meet his, and they both start to gently laugh together.
Somehow, they’re both laughing now. It’s not loud, it doesn’t come from deep in their bellies or someplace joyous. But it’s a welcome change that turns the acrid fog in the air and reshapes it into something else, something a little closer to sweetness than bitterness.
Their laughter does eventually fade, and Ochako takes a sip from the glass before her. When she puts it back down, Katsuki swallows hard and glances to the side. He still has things he needs to say.
“I’m. I’m sorry for what I said. Before. About him…asking you out. I didn’t mean how it came out, but. I still said it. And—“
“It’s okay, Bakugou. I understand.” She tucks a piece of hair behind her ear. “Thanks.”
Katsuki wants to say more, but he bites his tongue. It’s late, and he doesn’t want to risk saying the wrong thing again just so he can get it out for his own sake. He’s trying to be better.
Ochako gently clears her throat. “It’s, um. It’s late. Think I’m gonna go and—“ she gestures vaguely to her face and body. “—wash this whole night off.”
Katsuki nibbles on the inside of his cheek and nods. “Yeah, yeah,” he says, “that’s…yeah.”
With a small nod, Ochako rises from the table and begins to make her way toward her room. Katsuki’s mouth moves before he can stop it when he calls out to her:
“You shouldn’t have been invited to that party, Cheeks. You…“
He swallows hard as his pulse rattles in his ears.
“You didn’t belong there. You know that, right?”
Ochako is frozen for what feels like an eternity. Katsuki sees her head dip a bit before she looks back over her shoulder, eyes crinkling with a smile that trembles against the threat of more tears.
“Th-thanks, Bakugou. Goodnight.”
Katsuki’s stomach turns as he watches Ochako’s figure disappear down the hall, leaving him alone with two glasses of water and a hollowness in his chest. He sighs and scrubs his hands down his face, leaning back in the chair.
He thinks back to his conversation with Deku. And as he stares up at the ceiling and squints against the lights, he decides that maybe he’d had some decent advice.
Katsuki still has more to say.
And he’s gonna say it right this time.
*****
Ochako wakes up the next morning with eyes practically swollen shut from tears and mussed mascara. Her whole body feels stiff and brittle at the same time, and before she’s even had a chance to stretch her arms, the memories from last night wash over her.
She’s never been more grateful for a chance to sleep in.
After Katsuki’s bombastic display at the party, she’d never been so humiliated. And when Shindo had come to comfort her, ushering her back into the ballroom with that brilliant blinding smile, she felt a little glimmer of happiness shine inside of her.
The pieces only really came together in their entirety when she was standing on stage, lined up like pigs to the slaughter alongside a chain of other confused and giddy girls. When they announced the “winner” of the night, Ochako looked into the crowd.
Almost every single one of the guys looked…disappointed. Including Shindo.
She didn’t cry when she stepped off the stage and he barely looked at her. She didn’t cry when she overheard a few of the guys talking about the night being a bust. She even managed to keep her tears in when she heard some guys surreptitiously barking under their breath and laughing as she walked passed them.
She only began to cry after she’d moved in to hug Shindo goodnight and he flinched in disdain.
It all made sense at that moment. Everything that had happened, every interaction between her and Shindo, between her and Katsuki …there was no space for denial after that. In the reflection of Shindo’s disgusted scowl, Ochako saw herself the way he had always seen her. She was just too dazzled before to notice.
As much as she’d hoped that punching him in the face would be a moment of delicious catharsis, it didn’t do much except give her knuckles a slight bruise. She got herself back to the dorms in one piece physically, but not emotionally.
All she wanted was to put on a nice dress and go to a nice party, with a nice boy. She just wanted to be wanted. And after all of that, it turned out Katsuki was right.
She thought he was just being jealous. And yeah, maybe it was a little bothersome. The one guy she’s had a crush on since first year who’s never bothered even saying hi suddenly wants to barge in and upend her first actual date? Now??
Yeah, it was irritating. And maybe if he’d just been honest about it, then she would’ve taken a second to listen.
But that was the thing. He was being honest. And she still didn’t listen.
Now, in the glow of the late morning sun, Ochako feels no sorrow or sadness, no real tears threatening to spill. The more she wakes up, and the more the pieces from the night fall into place, all she can find the energy to feel is shame.
Ochako groans and rubs at her eyes, trying to wipe off any residual trace of her tear-streaked makeup. The more she thinks about it, the more stupid it all feels. The more stupid she feels.
Whenever something bad happens, she gives herself 24 hours to mourn. She gets one full day of sulking, of pain, of self-indulgent wallowing in pity, and then it’s time to move on.
Ochako looks at the clock. It’s nearing noon, which means she’s almost halfway through. But even with those spare 13-odd hours to go, she doesn’t have much left to feel. The intensity of it all has left her exhausted and hollow.
So she cuts the time in half.
By the time Monday rolls back around, Ochako’s the same as she’s always been. Sure, there are follow-up questions from Mina and the others. They want to know what it was like, did she have fun, did they kiss, are they going out again. The finer details don’t matter, and she’s not up for retelling the tale only to be met with looks of pity. She’s been to the Dogfight, but nobody else needs to see the battle wounds. The scars are hers to hide.
The week goes on, and the questions eventually slow down, and then stop coming altogether. Ochako doesn’t mention anything about Shindo beyond a simple “it just didn’t work out” or “we’re just not compatible” when asked, and by the time the weekend returns, it’s as if the whole thing never happened.
Everything moves on. Even Katsuki returns to his typical self—no more weird glares or glances, no more interruptions like the last week. Ochako tucks the pain of it all away into a small room in the back of her heart, and quietly shuts the door.
*****
It’s a little past 11 pm the following Saturday when Ochako gets a text from Deku.
Hey! Can you come to the common room for a sec?
Ochako squints at her phone and sits up in bed.
Now? What’s up? She texts back. Deku is quick to reply.
It’s hard to explain over text…can you come?
Something about that makes her heart jump. Immediately she begins to worry. Is Deku okay? Did something happen with him and Todoroki? Did she say something last week that unintentionally hurt his feelings and he’s only now found the courage to bring it up?
Yeah, be there in a sec , she quickly replies and toes into her house slippers, heart racing in confused anticipation. But as she makes her way towards the common room, she can tell that something is off.
The bright overhead lights aren’t on, but the room isn’t completely shrouded in darkness. There’s a faint glow emanating from around the corner, and it’s suspicious enough that it turns her brisk speed walk into a few hesitant steps.
“Deku?” she calls out, trying not to be too loud as she creeps forward. “What’s going…on…”
Ochako turns the corner and is not greeted by Deku.
Her racing heart stops for a moment before fervently fluttering back to life.
Several strings of tiny twinkling lights are draped haphazardly along near the ceiling. A few of those cheap glow-in-the-dark star decals are stuck to the walls. There’s the faint sound of a slow pop song coming from a nearby speaker.
And in the middle of it all, is Katsuki.
He’s standing there with his hands tucked into his pockets, clearly trying so hard to seem relaxed but very clearly failing (his jaw gives it away, always does). Their eyes meet across the room and Ochako sees his throat bob as he straightens his posture and swallows hard.
For a second, Ochako wonders if she’s lost control of her quirk, causing her thoughts to float off into the ether.
“Bakugou?” She finally manages when she blinks herself back to the present moment. She takes a few steps forward and looks around in awe before returning to meet Katsuki’s gaze. She watches as he pulls his hand from his pocket and carefully extends his arm out to her, palm facing up.
“Do you wanna dance?”
*****
Katsuki’s heart is pounding so hard he’s certain Ochako can hear it from across the room. It’s taking every ounce of mental and physical strength he has to keep himself from going up in flames like an oil-soaked wick as he waits for her reply.
Ochako looks between his inviting hand and face with wide eyes that seem to twinkle as they catch the light. She licks her lips and takes a few steps closer to him. Her hand slowly comes up to rest in his, her pinky elegantly lifted. Katsuki’s stomach does a little flip and his skin practically buzzes at the contact.
It’s hard to tell what comes next. Katsuki feels like he blacks out for a second as Ochako steps closer, hands still joined until her body is nearly flush against his.
It feels natural when he pulls her into his sphere and allows his other hand to slide along the soft curve of her waist before it comes to rest at the small of her back. Ochako’s free arm comes to wrap around Katsuki’s shoulder, and she tenderly rests her hand just along the back of his neck.
There’s still the faint sound of some music playing in the background, and Katsuki doesn’t know who it is that initiates the first step. It feels clumsy at first, perhaps a bit too careful. But they fall into a comfortable pace before long, and the rest of it comes easy.
Everything that may or may not exist outside of this moment is no longer relevant. Katsuki takes care to keep his eyes on her soft face as they sway together in the middle of the room. Ochako keeps her eyes on him too, and it takes a few moments before she finally manages to speak again.
“Why?” she quietly wonders aloud. “I-I just. I don’t understand…”
Katsuki takes a steady, measured breath. He’s thought carefully about the order of his words and the content of what he needs to say, and he’ll be damned if he’s gonna fuck it all up again.
“I’m not good with words,” he starts, “they always just come out…wrong.”
Ochako is listening to him, watching him with those big brown eyes. “I’ve spent two damn weeks trying to figure out what to say to you, how to say it to you.”
“Maybe if it was someone else, I wouldn’t have cared so much,” he continues. “If it were some other girl who was being played by that buzzy little fuck, I don’t know if I would’ve. I don’t care about a lot of things…I’m. I’m not good at all that. I tried to step back and just leave it be. Believe me, I really fucking did,” he says almost a little breathless. “But every time I tried, I pictured you, and I pictured him, and I pictured you getting—“
Katsuki stops himself.
He’s been rambling and he’s only now realizing it, and fuck he feels like he’s still messing this all up, why can’t he just talk like a normal fucking person?
But Ochako gently urges him on.
“Getting…?” she asks. His jaw shifts and he sighs.
“Hurt.”
Katsuki can still feel the echo of the rage he felt back then. “And…I don’t know. I just. I didn’t…want that.”
A little half-smile comes to life on Ochako’s lips. Katsuki’s brow bunches up as he looks down at her, then glances off to the side.
“You…you matter to me.”
Katsuki’s eyes move back to catch Ochako’s expression. He watches in real-time as the rosy blush blooms and spreads to color her cheeks and nose. She catches her lower lip between her teeth, then smiles with a gentle little huff.
Ochako then leans forward slowly and allows her cheek to rest against the warmth of Katsuki’s chest.
It’s so easy. He only has to tilt his head just a little bit to settle his chin atop her hair. They fit together like puzzle pieces, their connection only becoming obvious after they’ve joined together to bring the picture into clarity.
For the first time in a long time, Katsuki feels like he finally got something right.
“Can I ask you something?” Ochako suddenly says. Katsuki tilts his head just a little bit but otherwise doesn’t move.
“Go for it.”
“Why all of this?”
Katsuki takes a deep breath and closes his eyes. “You want the truth?” He asks flatly. Ochako nods against his chest.
“Deku suggested it.”
That makes Ochako lift her head from Katsuki’s chest, just enough to peer up at him.
“Really? I mean, he texted me so I figured he was in on it.”
Katsuki half-shrugs one shoulder. “Well, kinda. He suggested I do something simple, at least to get your attention long enough to listen to me.”
Ochako slowly raises her eyebrows and smirks. “But the dancing and the lights…that was you, huh?”
Katsuki feels the tips of his ears go red as he narrows his eyes. “What, don’t like ‘em, Cheeks?” He mumbles. Her laugh warms him from the inside out.
“I’m just surprised, is all. I really do like them, Bakugou.”
Katsuki bites the skin inside his cheek as he settles in closer to her body.“You said you’d never been to a party before. I’m not good at parties, but. I thought. You’d at least like a dance.”
There’s something really amazing about the way he can feel Ochako’s body shiver a little against his. She squeezes his hand tighter and takes a deep breath.
“Thank you, Bakugou.” She whispers.
Katsuki lets them settle into the silence for another moment. He considers asking if she’s been okay, or praising her a little more for punching Shindo hard enough to leave him sporting a visible black eye.
But he decides his mouth would be better suited to other things as he carefully reaches for Ochako’s chin, tilts her head back, and leans in to kiss her softly on the lips.
And to his relief and surprise and ecstasy, she gently returns his kiss, kneading his lips with her own until she can’t contain her joyous grin.
He pulls away just enough to take in the sight of Ochako’s warm, glowing smile. It’s like like starlight, he decides, and right at home amongst the little pinpricks of light that shine from the surrounding string lights. Far better, really.
He doesn’t think about the ways he could’ve stopped the Dogfight. He doesn’t think about Shindo or the people in that ballroom. For the first time, he’s not thinking about what he should and shouldn’t do or say. He’s just here, with her, slow dancing in the living room like something from a movie. All of the things that went wrong suddenly don't feel like such a big cosmic joke. Right now, none of them matter. All that matters is them, just like this, and nothing else. It feels right.
Finally, he got something right.