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The first time he met her, his heart stopped.
In the middle of the training gym—in front of all of Class A—she pushed him down, tore off his shirt, and pressed her palms onto his bare chest.
Bakugo stared into ocean-filled eyes.
“Charged to 150. Clear!”
A shock ran through his body, but he didn’t—couldn’t—move.
“Not enough juice,” she muttered, peering down at him.
His vision was going dark. He gasped for air.
Bakugo felt her ear brush against the tip of his nose.
“Oh shit.”
She shifted her weight and began pounding his chest.
“So many times, it happens too fast. You change your passion for glory.”
Was she—was she singing?
“Don't lose your grip on the dreams of the past. You must fight just to keep them alive”
Either Bakugo had lost it, or this girl had.
“It's the eye of the tiger, it's the thrill of the fight. Rising up to the challenge of our rival.”
The beats stopped. Two fingers pinched his nose closed.
She stole his first kiss.
“Charged to 300,” she shouted. “Clear!”
This shock zapped him back, restoring his breath. Bakugo shot up, coughing, spitting, and wheezing.
“What the fuck did you do to me, you crazy bitch”
“I’m not a crazy bitch,” she rolled her eyes. “I’m a second-year U.A. student.”
He tried to stand, but she kept him down and held an oxygen mask to his face.
“Breath, Bakugo. Breathe.”
She knew his name.
They sat still for a moment as his chest began to rise and fall steadily again.
He could see her clearly now. She looked like the marsh in autumn, when the sea grass was golden, and the winding waterways reflected clear blue skies.
After a minute, she set down the mask and smiled at him. The medi-bots loaded him onto a hover-stretcher, and she began pushing it towards the infirmary.
“Did you know you’re my first?"
Bakugo looked at her lips and started to reach up and touch his own.
She recognized the gesture and started laughing. Loudly.
“The first person I’ve saved,” she clarified between chuckles.
Bakugo’s face turned crimson. He hated feeling like this. Weak. Exposed.
He noticed the red cross cuff on the right sleeve of her uniform. A nurse in training.
Bakugo scoffed. “You didn’t save me. I saved myself.”
“If that helps you sleep at night.”
“Heroes save people,” he sneered. “Nurses just patch them up.”
The girl glared down at him. “I brought you back from the dead.”
“But I wasn’t dead-dead.”
“Your. Heart. Stopped.” She spoke slowly. “And I—Kaminari Hikari—restarted it.”
That weak shock—an electric quirk—of course, she was related to Dunce Face.
“Whatever, Candy Striper.”
“Not that it matters, but I’m actually training to be a surgeon, you dumbass hero,” she paused. “And I’m going to save more lives than you ever will.”
“You’re the dumbass if you think doctors can save more people than heroes do.”
She turned up her nose at him. “Saving lives isn’t a competition.”
“‘Cause it’s one you’ll never win,” Bakugo smirked.
Her eyebrows furrowed.
“You could never make it as a hero, so you settled for band-aids,” he snickered. “Your quirk’s not good enough. You’re not strong enough.”
She stayed silent.
“You’re too weak,” he said. “You can never be the best.”
She suddenly stopped the stretcher and whipped in front of him.
“You’re an ass, Bakugo Katsuki. Denki told me you were douche, but your heart is a cold lump of meat–barely worth saving,” she yelled.
“Shut up!”
“But I’m going to become a surgeon–the best surgeon in Japan–and I’ll save your life again.”
“Like hell you will–”
“One day, you’ll come into the hospital, and I’m going to crack open your chest–”
“What the fuck–”
“And hold your crappy cold heart in the palm of my hand.”
She was out of breath. They locked eyes. She started laughing.
Kaminari Hikari had a beautiful laugh.
She began moving the stretcher again. “Look, Bakugo, I know you don’t respect me, but honestly, I don’t need you to. What I do need is practice.”
“Practice for what?”
“If I’m going to be the best, I need to practice as much as possible. Treat as many injuries as possible.”
“What does that have to do with me?”
“Whenever you’re injured, let me fix it.”
“And why the fuck wouldn’t I just ask Recovery Girl?”
“Because you like my smile and my band-aids more.”
Bakugo flushed, but before he could respond, the stretcher stopped. They had arrived in the infirmary.
She pushed his stretcher into a bay and drew the curtain halfway. “I’m supposed to say I hope I don’t see you in here again soon. But I do want to see you again.”
Bakugo’s eyes lit up. She wanted to see him again.
“So call me when you’re bloody or on the brink of death,” she smirked and pulled the curtain closed.