U.A.'s training grounds were quiet after hours, the sky washed in deep orange. You stayed behind to practice, determined to perfect a new move before tomorrow's combat exam. Sweat clung to your forehead as you steadied your breathing and tried again.
A sharp boom cracked through the air.
You didn't have to turn around to know who it was.
"Tch. Figures you'd still be here," Bakugo muttered, hands shoved in his pockets, explosions still crackling faintly around his palms. "You're gonna burn yourself out before the exam even starts."
You rolled your eyes. "Didn't realize you cared."
"I don't," he snapped instantly — too instantly. "I just don't wanna watch you embarrass yourself."
You smirked. "Aw, how thoughtful."
He bristled, jaw tightening. "Shut up."
But he didn't leave. Instead, he watched you run the move again. And again. And again. Each time, his scowl deepened — not in annoyance, but in that way he got when he was analyzing something.
Finally, he clicked his tongue. "You're stepping wrong."
You blinked. "What?"
He stomped over, grabbed your wrist, and repositioned your stance with surprising gentleness. "If you plant your foot like that, you're wide open. Anyone with half a brain could knock you flat."
You raised a brow. "Including you?"
He looked away, ears turning pink. "Obviously."
You tried the move again — and this time, it worked. Clean. Powerful. Controlled.
You turned to him, breathless. "Bakugo… that actually helped."
He froze, eyes widening just a fraction. Compliments always hit him like a sucker punch.
"Yeah, well," he muttered, rubbing the back of his neck, "you're not completely hopeless."
You stepped closer, close enough to see the way his expression softened for a heartbeat before he caught himself.
"Thanks," you said quietly.
He swallowed hard. "Don't make it weird."
But when you started packing up your things, he walked beside you — not ahead, not behind. Right next to you. Close enough that your shoulders brushed.
And he didn't pull away.
The next day, the combat exam paired you with Bakugo.
Of course it did.
He scoffed when the teams were announced. "Try not to slow me down."
You crossed your arms. "Try not to blow me up."
He smirked. "No promises."
The exam started with a bang — literally. Bakugo blasted forward, taking out half the obstacles in one go. You followed, using your quirk to cover angles he couldn't.
At one point, an enemy drone fired a stun round straight at you. You didn't see it.
Bakugo did.
He grabbed your waist and yanked you behind him, taking the hit across his shoulder. He hissed in pain but didn't falter.
"Watch your damn blind spots," he snapped.
You stared at him, stunned. "You… took that for me."
"Shut up," he muttered, cheeks red. "It was instinct."
But the way he hovered near you for the rest of the exam — that wasn't instinct. That was something else.
Something he wasn't ready to name.
You found him sitting alone on the steps outside U.A., nursing the bruise on his shoulder. You sat beside him without asking.
He didn't tell you to leave.
"You did good today," you said softly.
He grunted. "We did good."
You blinked. "Did you just—"
"Nope," he cut in quickly. "Didn't say anything."
You smiled, leaning back on your hands. "You know… for someone who claims to hate me, you sure spend a lot of time saving me."
He stiffened. "I don't hate you."
You turned your head. "Oh?"
He stared straight ahead, jaw tight. "You're annoying. And loud. And you never listen. But…" His voice dropped. "You're strong. And you don't quit. And you push me to be better."
Your heart skipped.
He swallowed hard. "So no. I don't hate you."
Silence settled between you — warm, charged, confusing in the best way.
Then he added, barely above a whisper:
"And if you tell anyone I said that, I'll deny it."
You nudged his shoulder gently. "Your secret's safe."
He didn't move away this time. In fact, he leaned just slightly into you, like he was testing the idea of being close.
And for once, he didn't explode.