Katsuki stalked through the concrete tunnel, his footsteps echoing off the walls. The roar of the crowd faded behind him, replaced by the ringing in his ears and the steady thump of his heart.
Fucking extras, he thought, remembering the crowd's jeers. As if he should've gone easy on Round Face just because she was a girl. As if that wouldn't have been the real insult.
He flexed his right hand, palm still warm from his final blast. The one that had neutralized her meteor shower. That had been... unexpected. Smart. The kind of strategy that would've worked on most opponents.
Just not on him.
His steps slowed as he reached the fork in the tunnel. Right led to the waiting rooms. Left to the medical wing. He stopped, scowling at the empty corridor.
Should've finished it faster, he thought, though not with his usual venom. Round Face had earned that fight, earned his full attention. She'd made him work for it, made him think. Made him use a bigger blast than he'd planned.
Made him reveal more of his new abilities than he'd wanted to before facing Bird Boy.
"Tch." He clicked his tongue against his teeth, annoyed at himself for the miscalculation.
Was this what the nerd would've done? Analyze every angle, plan for every contingency, stay three steps ahead? Bakugo had spent the month since their beach conversation watching Midoriya—not obviously, but enough to study how he fought, how he thought. How different he was from the sniveling kid Katsuki had bullied for years.
"You've got a lot of work to do before we're anything like friends again."
Katsuki had known that. Still knew it. Didn't even know if he wanted friendship—but he wanted... something. Respect, maybe. A real fight against an opponent who knew what he could do.
Who would force him to be better.
He glanced down at his palm again, remembering the month of intensive training he'd put himself through. Waking before dawn. Running till his lungs burned. Practicing precision explosions until his arms ached and his hands blistered.
All to catch up to where Midoriya already was.
Had it been enough? The nerd's match against that manga-headed extra was next. Then they'd both need to win their bracket to meet in the finals.
That was the real test. That was where he'd know if all this work had been—
"Fuck," he muttered, realizing his feet had carried him left while his mind wandered. He now stood outside Recovery Girl's office.
Where Round Face would be.
He turned to leave, then hesitated. What would Midoriya do here? The thought irritated him immediately. Since when did he care what that nerd would do?
Since battle training, a small voice answered.
"Fucking hell." Katsuki ran a hand through his spiky hair, grimacing. This whole... being better thing was harder than he'd expected. Didn't come naturally like fighting did.
He stared at the door. Round Face had fought well. Better than he'd anticipated. She deserved... acknowledgment? Was that the word?
Before he could second-guess himself further, he shoved the door open.
"Hey, Round Fac—" The words died in his throat.
Uraraka sat on the edge of an examination bed, phone pressed to her ear, tears streaming down her flushed cheeks. She turned toward him, brown eyes wide.
"Ochaco, sweetie, is everything okay?" A woman's voice emanated from the phone's speaker, concern evident in every syllable.
Uraraka quickly wiped her eyes with her free hand. "Yeah, Mom, everything's alright. I'll talk to you later."
"Are you sure? You sound upset—"
"I'm fine, really." Uraraka forced brightness into her voice. "Someone just came in. Love you."
"Love you too, sweetie. Call me after the festival, okay?"
"Promise." She ended the call and set the phone beside her, then looked up at Katsuki, who stood frozen in the doorway like an idiot.
He'd never been good with crying. Especially girls crying. Especially girls crying because of something he might have done. His mouth opened, closed, opened again.
What would the nerd say?
"You, uh... you did good out there. That meteor thing was... smart."
Uraraka stared at him, tear tracks still glistening on her round cheeks.
Katsuki shifted his weight. "I mean... it was a good strategy. Using my explosions against me. Not many people would've thought of that."
Still she stared, her expression unreadable.
"Fuck, I'm not good at this," he muttered, looking away. "You fought better than most of those other extras would've. You made me use a bigger blast than I wanted to. So... yeah. Good fight."
He risked a glance back at her. Uraraka's lips twitched, then curled upward, and then she burst into laughter—bright, genuine laughter that filled the small office.
Katsuki's face heated. "The hell are you laughing at?" he demanded, embarrassment quickly converting to anger. He turned to leave.
"Wait!" Uraraka called, her laughter subsiding into hiccups. "Please wait, Bakugo."
He paused, one hand on the doorframe, body half-turned toward the exit. "What?"
"I'm sorry for laughing." She wiped her eyes again, though whether she was clearing away tears of sadness or mirth, he couldn't tell. "It's just... you looked so uncomfortable trying to be nice. It was kind of adorable."
"I'm not fucking adorable," he growled.
"No, you're terrifying," she agreed, her tone suggesting the exact opposite. "But thank you. For the compliment, I mean. And for fighting me seriously."
Katsuki turned back to face her fully, hands shoved in his pockets to hide their slight tremor. Not from fear or anything stupid like that—just leftover adrenaline from the match. "Wasn't a compliment. Just facts."
Uraraka's smile softened. "Still. It means a lot, coming from you."
He scowled at the floor, uncomfortable with her gratitude. "Whatever."
A silence stretched between them, not exactly awkward but not comfortable either. Katsuki found himself studying the scuff marks on his boots, the slight burns on his gym uniform, anything but the girl sitting a few feet away.
"I'm going to get stronger," Uraraka said suddenly, her voice firm. "Next time we fight, I'll have more tricks up my sleeve."
Katsuki looked up, surprised by the determination in her tone. Her tears had dried, and though her face still showed signs of fatigue, her eyes burned with resolve.
"You're already strong," he said, the words escaping before he could filter them. "You should be proud, Ochaco."
Her eyes widened slightly, and too late, Katsuki realized he'd used her first name. Not Round Face. Not Polka Dots. Her actual name.
"You called me Ochaco," she said softly, confirming his slip.
Katsuki shrugged, trying to play it off. "That's your name, isn't it?"
"Yes, but you never use anyone's real name except Midoriya's."
"I do when they earn it."
A slow smile spread across Uraraka's face, brighter than before, her eyes crinkling at the corners as it reached them. "Thank you, Bakugo."
Something thumped in his chest—harder than usual, irregular. He frowned, pressing a hand to his sternum. What the hell was that? Some delayed effect from the match? He'd pushed himself harder than usual against her, true, but nothing that should cause—
The door burst open behind him.
"Ochaco! We came to check on you!" Ashido's voice pierced the quiet of the office. "The class wanted to come but Recovery Girl would only let a few—"
The pink girl stopped abruptly, yellow and black eyes widening as she spotted Katsuki. Behind her, Hagakure's floating uniform shifted, gloves rising to where her mouth would be.
"Bakugo?" Ashido's tone shifted from concern to delighted curiosity. "What are you doing here?"
"Ohmygod," Hagakure squealed, her invisible form practically vibrating with excitement. "Were you checking on Uraraka? That's so sweet!"
"Shut up," Katsuki snapped, heat crawling up his neck. "I wasn't—"
"He was just telling me what a good match we had," Uraraka interjected, shooting him a small smile. "Right, Bakugo?"
He grunted, refusing to dignify the exchange with actual words. The last thing he needed was these gossip-mongers spreading rumors about him going soft.
"Riiight," Ashido drawled, her lips curling into a knowing smirk. "A 'good match.' I'm sure that's exactly what you two were discussing."
"It was!" Uraraka protested, her cheeks pinking slightly. "Bakugo was actually being nice."
"Bakugo? Nice?" Hagakure's gloves fluttered dramatically. "Are we talking about the same Bakugo?"
"I can be fucking nice," Katsuki growled, his patience evaporating. "When people deserve it."
Ashido's smirk widened. "Oho? And Uraraka deserves it, does she?"
That strange thump in his chest returned, stronger this time. Katsuki scowled, pushing past the girls toward the door. "I'm out. Got a match to prep for."
"Wait, Bakugo!" Hagakure called after him. "We didn't mean to tease! Well, we did, but not to make you leave!"
He ignored her, stalking down the corridor with long strides. Behind him, he heard the girls' voices fade as the door swung shut, no doubt already dissecting the scene they'd interrupted.
Let them talk. He had bigger concerns than whatever nonsense they'd dream up. Bird Boy would be his next opponent, and after seeing what that shadow could do against Vine Girl, Katsuki knew he needed a strategy.
Midoriya would have one already. Would've analyzed Dark Shadow's weaknesses, its light sensitivity, its range limitations.
Katsuki needed to do the same if he wanted to face him in the finals.
Because he would face him. Had to face him. Needed to prove—to himself, to Midoriya, to everyone—that he could win against someone who knew exactly what he was capable of.
Someone who'd once feared him but now stood as an equal.
He pushed thoughts of Uraraka from his mind, focusing instead on the fights ahead. Bird Boy first. Then whoever won between Valley Girl and Ponytail. Then, finally, the nerd.
His hand flexed unconsciously, small pops of light dancing across his palm.
I'm catching up, he thought, determination hardening in his gut. Next time we meet, I'll be ready.
The strange thumping in his chest settled into its usual rhythm, steady and strong. Whatever that had been back there with Uraraka—with Ochaco—he'd deal with it later.
After he won.
===
Ochaco watched the door swing shut behind Bakugo, a small smile still on her lips despite the tears that had dried on her cheeks just minutes ago.
"Okay, spill," Mina demanded, dropping onto the examination bed beside her. "What was that all about? Since when does Bakugo visit people in the infirmary? Since when does he call you Ochaco?"
"Since about two minutes ago," Ochaco replied, her smile widening. "He said I earned it."
"Earned what? His respect?" Toru asked, her gloves gesturing excitedly. "That's like... impossible! He doesn't respect anyone!"
"He respects Midoriya," Ochaco said.
"True," Mina conceded, tapping her chin thoughtfully. "But that's different everyone respects Izuku. Plus, they've got that whole rival thing going on."
"Maybe…" Ochaco said, though she wasn't so sure anymore. The Bakugo who had just stood awkwardly in Recovery Girl's office, trying to compliment her strategy, seemed different from the explosive boy who'd stormed into UA on the first day.
Softer wasn't the right word—nothing about Bakugo could ever be described as soft. But... more aware, perhaps. More conscious of how his actions affected others.
"Anyway," Toru said, plopping down on Ochaco's other side, "how are you feeling? That was such an amazing fight! When you released all those rocks at once, I literally screamed!"
"I'm okay," Ochaco assured them, touched by their concern. "Tired, but Recovery Girl said I just need rest and food."
"You were incredible out there," Mina said, nudging Ochaco's shoulder with her own. "That meteor shower thing was genius!"
Ochaco's chest warmed at the praise. Coming from her friends, it meant the world. But strangely, Bakugo's gruff acknowledgment had meant something special too—perhaps because she knew how rarely he gave it.
"You're already strong. You should be proud, Ochaco."
His words echoed in her mind, bolstering her spirits despite her loss. She hadn't won the match, but she'd won something else today—recognition from one of UA's strongest students. Evidence that she belonged in the hero course just as much as anyone else.
"Thanks, guys," she said, smiling at her friends. "But I still have a long way to go."
"Don't we all?" Mina laughed. "Except maybe Midoriya and Todoroki. Those two are on another level."
"And Bakugo," Toru added. "He's scary strong too."
Ochaco nodded, thinking of the controlled explosions Bakugo had used throughout their match. He could have ended it quickly if he'd wanted to—could have used that final blast right from the start. But he hadn't. He'd fought her seriously, respectfully, giving her the chance to show what she could do.
In his own way, that had been a kindness.
"We should get back to the stands," she said, sliding off the bed. "Midoriya's match is next, right?"
"Yup! Against Manga," Mina confirmed, bouncing to her feet. "Should be interesting!"