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he says it's not a love song (but it is)

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Just to rectify, Uraraka is not to blame.

(No matter what Bakugou shouts later, "Yes, it's all your fucking fault, why do you try to deny it, huh?" because, obviously, Bakugou would try to split the burden of the affair with someone else. Specifically her).

But it was not even her intention.

So why—

Uraraka knows perfectly why. Nor it was intentional by Bakugou after all.

And she suffers the same problem, because of him. Still it’s unfair. So unfair.

Since Bakugou one day out of nowhere asks (orders) her to accompany him to a place more private than their classroom as soon as classes end, he needs to talk about something important. And she accepts immediately. Because they have become close with the course of the months and they’re already in their second year in Yuuei and Uraraka trusts Bakugou. Period.

Now they are here. In a park of the city. Alone. And Bakugou has said...

“Sorry?” Uraraka asks, and feels her cheeks warm. She thinks she has heard wrong, she must had heard wrong.

But Bakugou stares at her, as if he can see through her. As if right at that moment, he can saw her soul, and her thoughts, and were out of his grasp and— Uraraka realizes, then. ‘Nope, you have not heard wrong.’ She still thinks: he is going to answer me with an irritated “I know that you listened to me perfectly so answer the goddam question.”


“I said I have feelings for you,” Bakugou murmurs, with slowness and seriousness not characteristic in him, sticking to words, harder than metal. “Make them disappear.”

And, uhm. Okay.

There is nothing to lose, nothing that can make the situation more uncomfortable. So Uraraka breathes, and decides to take a chance.

Ochako be brave, Ochako be lucky.

“A-all right. Bakugou-kun, I am very glad that you have discovered that you can feel emotions like any normal person,” other than anger, or hatred, or guilt, she adds to herself. “But... could you be more specific, please?”

Bakugou's frown deepens.

“They're just damn feelings, what else do you want. A fucking diagram?”

No! I'm not stupid—”

“Of course you’re not,” he interrupts, annoyed. And oh, he's serious. He considers her smart and strong and capable and that... that...

"It's just— hard for me to understand," she continues, completely frustrated. “Do you have a crush on me?”

And well, that's it. Bakugou's face becomes as red as Kirishima's hair. He’s fire, and fire burns.

(But she is not afraid to catch fire—not if it is for him).

“WHAT THE FUCK. You– I do not have a stupid, childish crush.”

“And how do you know that you feel something for me in that case?” Uraraka asks with genuine interest. Without cornering him. Pressing the right buttons. Being patient.

It works.

“Cause’... ugh dammit! Maybe I want to hold your hand, or some similar bullshit. And let's go, to some stupid place, just the two of us, to hang out. And I want the jerks from other classes to stop looking at you and drool like you're a fucking piece of meat even though I know you're capable of kicking their asses. And I would like... that youkissmewithyourridiculouslypinklips. Just maybe,” he says reluctantly. “And I want to fight you again.”

Fight?! Wait Ochako that's not the important, do not get excited

She tries to calm down, really. To do not let her knees shake and her heartbeats make her deaf since— ‘he likes me. Katsuki Bakugou LIKES ME.

And I liked him all this time, since the end of our first year, even if I tried to deny it at first.’

“But, o-okay. Do not be angry, but that sounds exactly like a crush,” she says clumsily.

Why are you so stubborn?

“For fucks sake Uraraka, it's not a crush. They’re... feelings, corny and disgusting feelings, and they make me sweat and feel like I have a fucking bomb in my chest. And I do not like them. And you're the one who provokes them, so it's your fucking responsibility to take them away from me, because I know you're not going to reciprocate me anyway.”

Why are you so oblivious?

“Wha—my responsibility? Ow, do not be so rude. I did not ask you to fall in love with me. Besides—”

“To hell. It was you and your fists and your bruises and your stupid and round face of war and your risky strategies and your strength.”

Why everything you do or say affects me so much.


“And your annoying insistence that we should be friends and I should stop messing with Deku for everything he does.”

Why do you pretend you still hate him when you were cared instead? You give him tips for improvement. And fight by his side. And demand him that he is not allowed to lose to anyone but you because you know that Deku is strong.

“You keep messing with Deku,” it's the first thing that comes to her mind. “And Bakugou-kun, if you paid me attention I could—”

“Once a month! the nerd should thank me, it's a fucking great progress!”

Why you and you and only you.

“Bakugou-kun, just shut up and listen to me for a minute or I swear I'll blow you to Jupiter!” she threatens, almost screaming. Bakugou must be so surprised by her reaction (she is surprised by her own reaction) because he remains quiet. Uraraka gets nervous. “S-sorry. I just— I did not ask you to fall for me, but I'm glad that you did it. I... that makes me happy. Very, very happy. And I do not know how I could disappear your feelings or if there is a quirk for that, and even if I could erase them, I would not. Because feeling affection or concern for other people does not make you weak, okay? You think so, but it’s not true. And... and... I-I like you too.”


The kind of silence that is made of glass, and you can break easy. The kind of silence that cuts you into pieces.

Uraraka does not dare to breathe. Bakugou is looking at her, without speaking, with an expression she cannot understand.

I broke him? I think I broke him. I fused his neurons, or froze time-space by accident. Or I induced him into a mental coma. WHAT I DO NOW. What if I call Recovery Girl and


She sighs with relief.

Oh, he's fine, thanks to All Might.


Bakugou opens his mouth, closes it, opens it again. He seems to be in a kind of internal conflict. He grits his teeth.

“...You're not weak.”

By feeling affection for others, it’s implicit. Uraraka understands.

“I know.”

“But I..., I am weak. Inside.”

(with my low self-esteem, and my damaged ego, and my anxiety and all the damn demons in my head.)

“And if anyone finds out that I confessed this to you, I'll blow them up to fucking Jupiter.”

“I know,” she repeats, smiling sheepishly.

“I could... hurt you, you understand? I could hurt myself. The whole fucking planet.”

I know.”

“And still...”

Uraraka takes a step forward. Bakugou is on guard, but does not back down. Then Uraraka takes his hands between hers. Their scratchy and have calluses and ghosts of burns. Their capable of hurting, no doubt. But— but their also capable of protecting, caring, defending— saving others.

(No matter what, their still the hands of a hero).

“Bakugou-kun, you have a bad temper, but you are not a bad person. And I really like you. If you insist again that I should help you to disappear your crush towards me or if you pretend that you are only a rage machine, I am going to knock you out and apologize all the way while I take you to the hospital.”

But that is not necessary. Bakugou relaxes, a little, and erases all the distances between them, hiding his face in her shoulder almost with shame. Their fingers intertwined. He understands, too.

“... I know,” Bakugou answers after a while. “And it's not a crush, damn it.”

It’s a catastrophe, really. That's what it is.

Butterflies and ladybugs and bees— nesting in his stomach, violently. A hurricane in his mind and an earthquake in his heart. Fireworks in their mouths and glances of smoke.


(Uraraka's smile. She asking him if after this she can be his girlfriend, if he gives her permission to kiss him. He saying yes, made a blushing mess.

The sun that shines, that isn't indifferent to gravity).

—love, teenage love.