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She came into the doorway, head peaking in, one hand on the frame, like she wasn't quite sure she was in the right place. Then she saw Izuku, and her face brightened. "Hi," she said, stepping over the threshold. Her arm slipped down, and she clasped her hands behind her, rocked on her heels. "It's good to see you."
Izuku had met her once before—the memory was hazy, set too far back to be fully reliable. But he had a gut feeling that he had been pretty rude. It would be nice to leave a different impression, apologize for what came before. Unfortunately, Izuku's tongue wouldn't cooperate. It lay slack in his mouth, a hunk of concrete.
"Oh, I guess you haven't really met me," the woman said. She waved, and the gesture felt out of place—there was no one else she could be talking to. "I'm Uraraka."
Izuku couldn't do anything but stare. It was frustrating—he'd spent the last several weeks making intentional and misguided decisions. But now that he finally wanted to do the right thing, he couldn't. He was too scared.
On the hospital bed between them, Kacchan looked up from his phone. He squinted at Izuku, like Izuku's forehead was paper thin, like he could see through to the thoughts beneath.
"Well," Uraraka said, "I'm glad to see you're okay. But I better let you rest up some more."
It was the wrong thing—now she was turning to leave. Izuku had a time limit to come up with something, anything to say. But it was panic that had frozen him in his seat to begin with. The threat of failure only buried him farther.
Uraraka made it back to the doorway and disappeared out into the hall.
Frustrated, Izuku flopped forward. His face stuck on the mattress, indenting there, and the edge of the flimsy chair dug into his thighs.
"What happened?" Kacchan said, deliberate.
Izuku groaned. There was no getting out of it. A few minutes ago he'd been a bit nervous, but mostly excited to start meeting the people he'd once known. He wouldn't be able to deny anything.
"Hey," Kacchan said, "It's fine. You can try again later."
Slowly, Izuku sat up. He didn't really want to look Kacchan in the eyes. "I—don't know if that will help."
"Okay," Kacchan said, tone totally devoid of Izuku's distress, "What will?"
"I—don't know," Izuku said. He was trying to dodge, but he might as well bite the bullet. He hadn't known Kacchan for very long, but already it was obvious that there was no way to shake him away from a goal. "It's—there's—you'll laugh at me."
"I won't," Kacchan said.
Izuku wasn't sure he believed it. Preemptively, he set his elbows on the mattress, his head in his hands. "It's just—she's really pretty."
Kacchan didn't respond.
Cautiously, Izuku peeked out through his fingers. Kacchan was biting his own lip. It wasn't really effective—he was clearly smirking.
He was also typing something on his phone.
"What are you doing?" Izuku said.
Kacchan started typing faster.
Izuku lunged for the phone. Kacchan jerked it out of the way, and Izuku used his forearm to knock it out of Kacchan's grip. It fell, clattering across the tile floor.
"Oi—cheeks!" Kacchan shouted.
Izuku didn't know what that meant. And right now he was distracted, fully focused on pinning Kacchan's shoulders down. It was for his own safety—he might hurt himself if he tried to climb out of the bed.
Someone started running in the hall outside, and then Uraraka burst back into the room, eyes flushed.
Kacchan gleamed. "Deku sa—mrph."
Izuku clapped his hand over Kacchan's mouth.
"Is everything—okay?" Uraraka said.
Kacchan tried to shake off Izuku's hand, but Izuku adjusted his grip, forced Kacchan's shoulders back down again.
"Be careful—he's still hurt!" Uraraka said. She stepped closer, looking concerned, but didn't intervene. Apperantly she wasn't that worried.
It was a good reminder—Izuku loosened his grip a little, and Kacchan stopped struggling against it.
Then Kacchan bit Izuku's hand.
"Ow!" Izuku blurted, more indignant than hurt. His hand didn't budge.
Beside them, Uraraka stood up. She was holding Kacchan's phone, had just crouched to retrieve it. By the time Izuku saw it, put the pieces together, it was already too late to intervene.
"Here, you—" Uraraka said, and cut off. She stared at the screen, one hand flying up to cover her mouth.
"I'm sorry!" Izuku blurted, jumping to his feet, "I didn't mean to—"
"It's fine!" Uraraka insisted.
"But I'm sure you have lots of other admirable qualities that I never found out because I—"
"It's okay!" Uraraka said, holding up a hand, "Just breathe!"
Izuku tried—he needed to have air to keep talking. "I'm sorry that—I got so stuck on one thing about you, that you don't even control—and then I didn't even get to meet you—"
"It's okay," Uraraka said, forceful, "It's—I know you, Deku. I know you care about all of me."
Izuku blinked, totally blindsided. Somehow, in all of this, he'd forgotten that she would be like Kacchan, anticipating his every move.
Uraraka set the phone down on Kacchan’s pillow. "Why don't you take a minute—we can talk again later, okay?"
"Uh-huh," Izuku said. Now that he wasn't apologizing, he didn't know what to do with himself.
Uraraka smiled. It fit easier on her, this time. Then she headed back for the door. "See ya!" she said, rounding the corner.
Dejected, Izuku dropped back into his chair.
"You're welcome," Kacchan said, reaching for his phone.
"I hate you," Izuku retorted. Instantly, he regretted it. That was a bit harsh.
Kacchan looked up, eyes narrowing, but not in anger. "Go talk to her."
"I can't."
"Hah?" Kacchan blurted, "She's just in the hall!"
"It's—not that kind of can't," Izuku said, gesturing limply, "It's—what would I even do, ask her out? While I can't remember that my friends don't hate me?"
"Why not," Kacchan said, moving his IV line so he could cross his arms. "You want her to date someone else?"
That brought up a different, more terrible thought. "Is she dating someone?"
Kacchan scoffed. "Yeah. You."
Consiously, Izuku didn't even hear it. The words fully bypassed his mind. They sank straight down into his feet and carried him across the room, out into the hall.
Uraraka was at the other end, standing in the elevator. She looked up, saw Izuku running, and reached out to hold the door.
Izuku almost slammed into the elevator wall. At the last second he stuck out his arms and caught himself against the glass.
Uraraka moved her arm, and the doors slid together. The elevator jolted down.
They were alone.
Izuku turned to face her, took a breath and let it out steady. He couldn't remember what he'd said when they first met, back in his hospital room. He just knew it had ended with him trying to bash her face against the wall, her getting him in a headlock first. He couldn't possibly do worse than that.
"I don't really know you, even if I should," Izuku said, "But—I think I want to. Do you—could we get coffee sometime?"
Uraraka smiled, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. "Yeah—I'd like that."