#kss17

There was a cute guy on the queue.

 Uraraka was never one to go around spotting people. In fact, she was was more preserved than she once used to be, and she definitely wasn’t breaking character for that guy. Not that guy. Absolutely not. His hair was golden, his eyes somewhat blistering and audacious, his mouth curved into a grimace of displeasure when the waitress didn’t dare apply the proper amount of cream to his black, bitter coffee. Yeah, he somehow seemed like a black coffee type of guy and clearly Uraraka wasn’t staring at him.

 Not at all.

 Except that she was and she wanted to bang her head against the table.

 When was the last time she has lusted over a guy this badly? Judging by his appearance, he was not her type— scratch that, any guy with those arms was clearly her type but… when had she been so struck by a guy’s eyes so badly? Was it because hers were so classically brown? Was it because he seemed to give light to the dim cafeteria with his colorful speech? Somehow, he seemed so out of the ordinary he was… shining.

 Her chin rested on her palm, slipped, and headbutted the table loudly, being met with a tap from her friend. “Everything alright? You kinda spaced out a lil’ there, girl.”

 Uraraka craned her head to look at her friend, pouting as Mina flashed a teasing smile in her direction. “Whatever you are thinking, is wrong.”

 “Right.” Mina sighed contently, leaning back into her chair with a smile. One of her eyes opened a little to glance in the man’s direction. “It’s not my fault you are drooling over… is it the redhead? he’s kinda cute!”

 “For starters, I don’t drool, I was just—” her eyes peek over to the queue, where he is still scowling at the waitress. He must have had a rough day. “I was just trying to see if I spotted the others among the crowd. Nothing sinful like you are suggesting— stop it with that look!”

 “He is kinda hot, though.” Uraraka crossed her arms and looked down, ashamed and beet red as her friend shamelessly looked at the queue. It wouldn’t take her long to see him. “I got a knack for red, you know.”

 “It’s not…” she was going to deny everything, just hope to die of humiliation if Mina dared look too close into the case, but then just gave up. “It’s not the redhead one… it’s the blonde guy.”

 “Huh? what— oh.” Mina remained silent for the next minute, and Uraraka didn’t know what to make out of her mute observation. Then, the pink-headed girl spoke again. “His hair is a wreck.” The other almost choked on her coffee. “Are you kidding me!? Is that all you got to say about him?”

While the girl coughed some, the other looked at the blonde boy with a pensive gaze. “He is cute. Not my type, but I can understand anyone who digs that appeal.” her eyes trailed to her friend again. “Why don’t you go talk to him?”

 Uraraka’s eyes widened like saucers at the almost indecent proposal. In the way Mina put it, talk meant a lot more than just talk. “I cannot go over there like nothing and talk to him! Also, have you seen how angry he is over there? He will see me as an annoying brat!”

 Mina looked over her and sighed, and Uraraka already knew what she was thinking because she always pulled the same thing. Uraraka was a shy being by nature, used to gentle things and pastel colors, like some kind of princess that she insisted on not being, but all guys had treated her like one. She enjoyed being treated like a princess, who didn’t? But she was tired of being mistaken for a simple, little and cute girl when she thought she could be so much more.

 Perhaps that was why that man’s presence was so intriguing and fascinating to her. She hadn’t even gotten to know him and something within her told her he was just different. Something in the way he didn’t straightaway solve his disputes with punches and decided to just scowl, sulk and spit some insults at whoever brushed by was… interesting. Her eyes rolled over his figure a little before he barked something else at the waiter (the previous waitress had run away in fear) and dissolved into the crowd.

 Her eyes tried to follow him, but she couldn’t, and thus her expression shifted into one of boredom as she looked at her, again, teasing friend. “You never let up, do you?”

Turns out, Uraraka did end up meeting the mysterious man again— but not in the way she wished for. And trust her… she wanted to take back her words.

 Just a second after she had sat on her chair, the blonde man came barging through the door — literally, he kicked it open with a fearsome grimace as if it was a pitiful foe — and tossed his papers on the desk before her, jumping on her chair as the man hopped to the table and sat on it, peering over his classroom in a weird mixture of boredom and annoyance. She couldn’t tell if his eyes were always that blistering, but all she knew was that the angry spark hadn’t faded ever since he left the cafeteria.

 Maybe it hadn’t faded ever since he was born and the thought scared her somewhat, yet she listened to his words carefully. For what she could tell with a sole glance, he didn’t look much older than her, and was probably going to use that minimal age difference against her. Still, she looked up despite his intimidating glare.

 Probably a child genius who had gotten the job beforehand, too young to teach. Great.

 “Nerds, I’m not gonna explain this shit twice, so you better take notes or you are rotten meat.” he was almost barking at them, yet she felt that dreadful thrill of both intimidation and expectation run through her, urging her to jot all down quickly. “No need to give me your names, I ain’t gonna remember them anyway.”

 His name was Bakugou Katsuki and he was a jerk, she could tell from the first moment he walked into the class, but the way he handled himself and his words only made it more blaring. He was constantly moving, constantly looking around and snapping at the littlest of interruptions. Despite all that, he seemed to be rather lax on exams and assignments for what he had shown them, and unlike some teachers she had the disgrace to meet, he did seem passionate about what he would be teaching, yet his manners weren’t those of a lecturer-

 It sometimes made her wonder why he was even there. In that silent ponderation, Bakugou caught her staring and slammed a hand to her table. “What’s the problem, roundface? Like what you see?”

 Her cheeks turned pinkish the moment she snapped out of it, and shook her head, probably much to his dismay because he sounded like the greatest egomaniacs of the planet. Still, he did have a good body behind that black jacket of his, she could tell. Judging by the swooning gazes some other of her peers were throwing at him, she wasn’t the only one to notice— but he didn’t seem to give a crap about that.

 When she finally got over that first impression, she started seeing things she lwas surprised with— not because they made him even worse, but because they were things she didn’t see in people all the time and… she was a curious girl. There was this moment when one of his papers slipped and fell that he cursed loudly, yet collected it with care and dusted it off. Maybe he wasn’t as careless as she thought and… actually cared more than he let on. And the way he spoke was kind of collected as well, assertive and to the point— he knew his stuff.

 He was a strange, uncanny man. Uraraka didn’t care about that, but actually felt excited to have more classes with him later on. She wanted to know this man.

 So, when the lecture, presentation or whatever it was ended, after he threatened them all to punish them with lesson if they didn’t get the shit out of there, Uraraka slowly packed her things to let everyone get out of the classroom, and walked to the unsuspecting man slowly. “Hey, uhm…”

 He almost choked with his own air when she tried to greet him. What a man of words. “What the fuck? You gave me a damn scare there, roundface!”

 At his outburst, Uraraka felt the urge to scurry away, yet didn’t. He didn’t seem that annoyed with her presence, if only burdened by whatever she would have to say next. The brunette sighed with a clumsy smile. “I just wanted to apologize for earlier! I didn’t mean to stare at you, I was just thinking about stuff and—”

 “First, stop fucking fidgeting, this ain’t high school.” at that, she stilled in her place. “Second, what the hell you apologizing for? I had already forgotten about it.”

 She felt stupid. Maybe ashamed, even. Her hands came up to fiddle with her hair as he started packing things again, only glancing back at her once or twice. “I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable in your first day… That’s what I’m apologizing for.”

 Bakugou zipped his hand suitcase — why did everyone have those? — and placed it on his chair before looking at her with a pensive, yet clearly piercing glare. It was as if he was hesitating between beheading her or poisoning her, teeth gritted and he would probably start barking for all she cared— she just wanted to make nice for being a freak earlier. While she withstood his knit eyebrows and fangs, her eyes settled for just a outcome for the situation.

 Seeing she wouldn’t let go of such silly issue, he sighed, and dismissed her with a wave of his hand. It was as if he was treating her like a child and she wasn’t going to let him get away with that. “I don’t give a crap about earlier, just make yourself useful and let me go home already.”

 Uraraka hadn’t noticed that she was actually annoying him, not only personality-wise, but also because he was losing his time with her, wasting it when wh knows? perhaps he had to take a train or something. “Ah! I’m sorry for—!”

 He swung his suitcase to his hand and looked at her from the corner of his eyes, not even turning to look at her. He mumbled his next words. “Stop apologizing already.” her mouth clamped shut, watching him turn heel to walk to the exit of the classroom, leaving her in a golden room full of sunset beams. “See ya.”

 Her cheeks puffed, determined to be in good terms with him even if it costed her her sanity. But man, wasn’t he a damn jerk…

Bakugou hated life sometimes.

 Just as he stared at the big screen at the entrance of the station, he realized he was fucked. He let out a deep sigh, a grimace painting his expression in the dim light of the cold station as he saw the blatant news. His train wouldn’t be arriving anytime soon due to bad weather and he just hated life sometimes.

 So he decided to make something out of it, and turned heel in direction to the center of the town. He would probably stay around a bar or some shit until he wanted to get a hotel, but knew he couldn’t delay it much more or else he’d end up being late for his meeting with the docent staff the following day. Needless to say, Bakugou was kind of screwed, but he couldn’t dwell much into it without wanting to punch something and, if possible, somebody.

 One thought teaching would appease his violent vibe, well they were dead wrong. If anything, it makes him more stressed, ergo, more prone to violent sprouts.

He kicked the door to the bar open, letting the winter mist roll into the place with a puff of air into his red scarf. He tugged it a bit off, the change of temperatures creeping through his skin and starting to make his hands kind of sweaty. His grumpy steps echoed as he stomped to a stool on the bar, sitting down with a gruff and leaning onto the wooden surface. He ran a hand through his golden locks, breathing heavily as a clock hitting late hours greeted his scarlet glare.

 He tugged on his scarf a bit further. He wasn’t that used to going to bars, preferring quieter places where no one would bother him— but hell, it had been a while since he had a drink, and after a first week of classes, he needed something to get stress off. With such fucked up weather, no jogging would do, neither would walking around. And he couldn’t get home, and he couldn’t help but frown because he needed his bed real quick.

 He wasn’t even that old, for fuck’s sake, why was he so tired? He had graduated last year, teaching now a class that was barely two years behind him. An interesting class, he couldn’t lie, but… so fucking tiring. He had better places to be yet his mind had somehow dragged him to that damned university.

 A bartender came to see him, a question lingering in his eyes he knew very well. “Hibiki whiskey.” his voice was hoarse and somewhat urgent, because while he never drank in favor of a good health — he was damn healthy, he could swear his name on that — but his parents, work and just damn paperwork were getting the worst of him. He waved him away and focused on the clock on the wall. He could take out his phone and search for some stuff, but he had ran out of battery a long time ago.

 Jesus fucking christ could this day get any worse?

 He heard the door open a crack and heard it close again slowly, and light feet tapping behind his stool until they pulled a chair out and sat by him, and he could recognize that damn cologne everywhere now, having had her swarming his ass to ‘make nice for what happened the other day’.

 He glared at her pointedly. Of course it was fucking her, of all people. His night could indeed get worse. “What the hell’re you doing here so late, roundface?”

 At the sound of his voice, Uraraka turned, the sound of her anorak shuffling in the rattle of the bar. Upon seeing him, her cheeks turned scarlet and her hands trembled a little, confused to see him out of all people, there. “Oh, Bakugo—”

 “Tch.” the bartender dropped by and swung the glass to his hand, the ice clanking against the glass as Bakugou threw a nasty glare at his student. “Don’t fucking talk or else.”

 Her hands slanted on her thighs, she looked down as the bartender looked at both with an amused look in his eyes, one replaced with question as Uraraka raised her head afterwards. “The usual, please.”

 The usual? His shoulders perked up as he scanned her figure, her little button nose, and the innocent shine to her eyes as an appeased smile appeared to grace her features. Yeah, she was damn cute, he couldn’t deny it, but she was a damn pain. He didn’t do that sparkly shit she seemed to carry with her. Never did, never will.

 Sighing, he took a sip of his glass.

 “So, what are you doing here?”

 And almost choked.

 Bakugou slammed the glass on the counter and looked at her with a severe frown. “Oi, shouldn’t I be fucking asking you that? Shouldn’t you be studying or some shit?”

 The roasty smell of coffee wafted under their noses, making them breathe sharply, and Uraraka frowned a little with a mean pout. “I hope you don’t think I spend my nights studying. I have other stuff to take care of. Besides, I live nearby.” she grabbed a little packet of sugar. “I’m here rather often. And I had never seen you here. That’s why I’m asking.”

 She made a good point there, and when her coffee finally came and she sipped on it in silence, it seemed like she wasn’t going to wait for him to answer, it probably didn’t matter to her. But she had asked, so he’d at least make a good excuse to explain why he was there. Not like he gave a shit about what she, of all people thought, but she was still a student. And he was a teacher.

 He took another long sip. “I needed some air.” which was true— misleading, but true. And she seemed to believe it, nodding to herself and humming as the coffee drowned her inner stress away. It had been a rather busy night handling stuff at home, she also needed the air.

 Her eyes trailed from his pale hand to his pale throat, then to his eyes, mesmerized by how red and burning they were. It was so amazing to have such… interesting man at her disclosure as a teacher. “You look pissed.”

 His lips were drawn into a sardonic smile, looking at her with a laugh pulling at his heartstrings. “What a damn Sherlock.” muttered he, making the ice cubes dance in the glass. “I got stuff on my mind, none of your fucking business.”

 Uraraka arched an eyebrow at him, making his own eyes widen at how bold this skank could be. Hell, most people would have already taken the hint and left, mostly cursing after his existence or dedicating him a soundful glare at his neck— but all she did was stay in silence, sometimes lie her eyes on him as he lay his on her, but that was it mostly.

 Until she decided to speak and he knew she wasn’t going to give up. He sighed loudly. “Are you always so rude?”

 “Are you always so damn nosy?”

 At this, her mouth frowned into a tight line as she scooted her coffee closer, letting the steam hit her skin. There was a mildly sweet aroma lingering around them as the hard whiskey and the soft foamy coffee melted into the other, his hard eyes staring at those hands he saw scribble daily with such diligence and skill. He had seen her grades this far — not because he was interested, hell no, but just because he wanted to know what students he had — and frankly, he was surprised to see such little girl handle so many side-classes and her career so balancedly.

 At this, he eyed a little scar o the bridge of her thumb and index, musing over how fresh it was. “So, martial-combat, huh?”

 Uraraka jumped on her seat to look at her teacher, shock swimming in her eyes. “How did—?”

 He made the chips dance in his grasp. “I am your goddamn teacher, did you think I wouldn’t look over your expedients? Above all being in front of a top tier class like yours.”

 She didn’t know how to take that because the cold stare he threw her at the end made her want to scurry out the door. Frankly, he was quite the dick, but this was her place and she refused to move out of his space when this was hers in the first place. She pouted at him. “Well, yeah. I enjoy fighting some.” judging by how incredulous his eyes were, despite being the one to actually bring up the topic, he wasn’t believing her. “Hey, I know some tricks!”

 His brows knit down in disdain, grimacing at her overly sensitive demeanor. “Stop fretting about it. Are you gonna make such a big deal out of whatever I say?” he cautiously shook his head and took a sip of his glass as she took one of hers. “No wonder you’re a fucking good student.”

 Uraraka coughed some of her hot coffee out, only for him to realize the fatal mistake he had done at complimenting her. But instead of getting the over the top reaction he had expected, she only brushed some bangs aside and smiled cheekily. How old was she again? “Well, it’s good to get a green light from such a strict teacher, thanks.”

 He blinked at her in silence as she kept to herself and set her mug on the table with an enigmatic hum of her voice. Now, she was kind of mysterious. Looking at the small scar on her hand again, so recklessly near a scorching hot beverage, he felt the urge to know more, which he drowned out with a hard chug on his glass. This was going to be a long night. “Another shot.”

 Uraraka’s ears twitched as he ordered again, looking at him in wonder. Turns out he wasn’t going to move any time soon— he was in her territory to stay. When he felt her blatant stare on him, his eyes tilted to meet hers as she rushed to look at the display of bottles behind the bar. “Oi, what’s your goddamn problem with staring at people?”

 “A-Ah!” the mug danced on her hands as she went to pick it up again, and drew strength from it’s steamy liquid. She put it on her lips. “I was just wondering… you don’t really seem like a hard drinker.”

 “What’s with this fucking bluntness you got going on, huh?

 Uraraka narrowed her eyes, unfazed and blunt again. “Do you want me to call you Bakugou-sama or something?” when he only kept his eyes on her, not speaking a word, she thought he had taking her seriously. “God, you don’t really seem to be exactly humble.”

 It was a second later when Uraraka actually remembered that this man, this rude man, was actually her teacher, the man who would be grading her exams and assignments for at least a year, who would be giving her classes and somebody she would have to live with despite her not wanting to. Seriously, he was such a good-looking man, but his personality didn’t even it all out. Regardless, she had gone over the limit, and there was this strange tension in the noisy air that proved this further.

 After letting her cup sit on the small plate under it, she sighed and looked at him in embarrassment. “I’m-”

 “I got many damn reasons to be proud of and hoist myself like a damn flag. Don’t go around telling me how I should behave.” it felt like a cut to make her feel awkward, but it was pretty much the opposite, what he did. When he looked back at her to take in her destroyed image, all he found was a soft smile. “What the fuck!”

 She closed her eyes. “I just wonder… you are not much older than me. How intelligent must you be to be teaching so soon in your life?” he held her glance, impatient but interested on being complimented. Kind of. “And don’t get me wrong, but you seem to enjoy the subject, but teaching? Not that much. Why are you here?”

 As if that wasn’t the damn question of the year. Still, he drank some whiskey and contemplated answering her, only to end up deciding against it. “I am intelligent, thank you very much.” somehow, the thought of somebody so… weird like her giving him credit for his traits seemed appealing. He was probably too intoxicated at this point to even notice. Too long since he had had a drink. “It’s a humble profession for an egomaniac, like you put it.”

 That was not an answer. If anything, it seemed like a way to rub on her face that she had judged him. Not gonna say if she was right or wrong. It made her sigh impatiently. “Yeah, I get the point.”

 After that, Uraraka simply gave up, almost bored at how incredibly tiring this man was to handle. She was almost regretting having fawned over him so hard the first day. Now, looking at him from a closer distance, he wasn’t even that attractive— screw it, he was. His hands were elegant, his skin pale and his hair completely messy like a bouquet of fresh lilies and sunflowers. Some days, when the sun filtered through the windows hard enough, his spikes made beautiful reflections.

 Not like she drooled over it or anything. It was just… some kind of hinder that wouldn’t let her go of how magnetic he was in class, and how interesting he was and spoke about things. In such detailed inspection, he looked like an ass, but something told her he was way more than just a rude teacher. She just hoped she was right.

 There was a moment when the clock hit midnight, and Uraraka found herself staring at her steamy mug of coffee, unraveled, aware of the fact that her curiosity for this man had forced her to go through several rounds of coffee, thus rendering her future night restless. But still, eyeing at how uneasy he seemed despite how long he had been there, questions started rising up again.

 Maybe it was time to ask again. Maybe it wasn’t. She certainly hoped he wasn’t this worked up because he minded her presence. “Seriously, what are you doing here?”

 He started tapping his fingers against the wooden bar, and looked away into the clock on the wall, above some shelves full of old fashioned bottles, one of which his beverage had surely come from. His eyebrow twitched as he felt her stare on his neck, never leaving his tousled hair or the bead of sweat that ran down his neck. It was infuriating. But the small swell to his ego as she stared at him had never felt this interesting before.

 But it was over soon, and Uraraka sighed in annoyance and regret. She probably had spent too much time there, trying to bond uselessly. She had to leave. “Well, I tried, I guess.” her tone had a hint of disappointment he hadn’t heard ever. And trust him, he had heard her speak a lot over his hoarse lectures and furious rambles. “You do you, I guess.”

 Uraraka planted her hands on the bar and hopped off the stool, dropping some money on the counter before sighing again with a foreign look of distraughtness in her eyes he could tell right off the bat from the corner of his crimson eyes. Why did this perky student mind him so much and why in hell did she wanna be friends with a teacher like him, of all people? He was a lone wolf, he didn’t need fucking friends, above all not a student, of all people. What was she even thinking?

 However, when she turned heel and stepped away, he grunted with a frown and let the slight effect of the alcohol waft over his system, blurring the lines of what was right in his set-on-stone morals.

 Uraraka halted her steps at that. She swore she had heard something from him, yet didn’t hear correctly as he was, most probably, talking to his neck as he usually did when he said things he didn’t want to say. She had seen him put this in practice many times during spare classes, when he was tired or just wanting to murder anyone. She craned her head to look at him from her shoulder. “Come again?”

 Bakugou grit his teeth. “I lost my fucking ride home, okay?” hadn’t it been for the slow jazz floating around them and he would have screamed louder. He only fisted his fingers, too tired to fight it back now. The doe of her pretty eyes was too mesmerizing for his liking and he wanted to smack himself for being so vulnerable and being affected by a little girl. “I got late to the station and my train had already left. There. Are you f-”

 “So you got nowhere to sleep? Is that why you are here?”

 He slammed his glass on the counter, pointing a finger to her as she walked to his side once more as a thread of courses fell off his mouth. “I swear to fucking god! Isn’t that obvious by now? And don’t give me that fucking look.” he turned away from it, because despite how beautiful it was, she was throwing so much pity at him he wanted to gag. He knew she was the kind of girl to do stuff too kindly, but this was too much for him. “Disgusting.”

 She pouted stubbornly and stomped to the stool beside him, dragging it so their knees were touching in a gesture all too private for the teacher. He had to remind himself over and over that being this close to a student so pretty like her, with a cup of whiskey on his hand was wrong in many levels… yet he felt just as drawn to her like she seemed to him, somehow. He wondered how much he could take from her before she left, eventually.

 “Don’t be so mean… I am not laughing at you or anything.” her elbows banged the counter as she stared at him, curious. His blistering gaze dropped on her like a blanket, smoothly, and it was ever so magnificent. So pleasing. He was pleasing. She tilted her head to a side. “So you’ve been here just… spending your free time?”

 His brow twitched, for she wasn’t wrong. He had been trying to distract himself with something to only find himself in a bigger mess than before — that mess being her. “Yeah. Not my favourite hobbies as I fucking rarely drink but… whatever. I don’t need to give you explanations.”

 He told himself to stop talking but she was being so invasive and he was too tired to think straight anymore. He needed to get out of there. A hand of hers dipped into one of the pockets of her sweater, and he heard the tingling of something he recognized as keys, and she smiled brightly— No.

 “No.”

 Her eyes escalated his neck to meet his eyes, and leant in expectantly. “Yes! Think about it—”

 “No because this is fucking wrong, angel face. Get off my hair already.” but he knew there was no way a kind soul like hers would let a stray acquaintance roam around the rainy streets without aim, nor was he really in the mood to pay for a hotel. “I’ll sort this out myself. Stop fretting over my shit and stop giving me that look—”

 She leaned a bit closer, knowing he wouldn’t pull away as long as she had control and knowing he had no other option than hers. “It would be just for a night! We don’t have to sleep tog- in the same bed or anything! It’s just sharing a ceiling. Nothing preposterous about that.”

 Maybe the concept had sounded bad at first but… sharing a ceiling sounded much more comfortable and spacey than it had looked like at first. And how much money did he have left? Those drinks he had gotten were damn expensive, no wonder his wallet felt so thin now. He sighed impatiently, too sleepy and hungry to care about it. “You are my student.”

 “And you are my teacher! I’m helping you out!”

 Bakugou briskly got up from his stool and slammed a bunch of coins on the counter, only stopping to look at her dead in the eye for a split second. Then, he dug his hands into his trench coat’s pockets and grunted a curt but rude “Move your ass.” before he kicked the door open, and heard Uraraka following with skipped steps before walking into the rain.

He barely remembered anything from the day before and it was eating him alive.

 He had woken up in a bed that wasn’t his, he was sure of that. Beige walls, pink streaks on a window and unfamiliar sun streaming from the window, hitting on his stabbed eyes as he picked up the smell of forest detergent wafting in the sheets draped on his body. He had palmed the bed in search for anything resembling his bleak yet fierce apartment and decor, but all he received was a painful reminder that he had given in to the kind wishes of his student.

 He had crashed real bad judging by how he was still on his shoes, how he had barely bothered to remove his coat. He could bravely guess she had been the one to cover him, and as he had discovered while tiptoeing out of the apartment, she had given up her bed as well. Her body was curled on a corner of the couch, books of his very own subject among others laying on the table — was it this important that she had read his books? a part of him considered the thought — and her head was slouched on the armrest of the sofa.

 He didn’t consider her much, he truly didn’t want to consider her much, so he left as soon as he saw it fit. Picked his own things from the entrance, glanced over her with a scoff at the excess in her kindness, and vowed to himself that he would never ever mention this to anyone.

 But the lapse between him entering her building and him waking up remained blank despite how much he glared at her as she did the homework he had put on his class — because he, of course, didn’t do this to specifically punish her for making him do something this regrettable. Letting his guard down, be vulnerable to no other than such a cheery, social and pretty student like her. And the fact that he couldn’t remember much from the day before was killing him.

 Had she taken him in because she saw how vulnerable he was to alcohol? Was it pity because he had nowhere to sleep for the night? Who knows. While grading exams as they did their own tasks, Bakugou briefly considered his student with a quick glance. By the crouch to her posture and the slight dull to her eyes, that couch wasn’t very comfortable to sleep on — her back must be sore and her brain, tired. That much he could tell, at least. And he wanted to laugh at his own uncanny attention on somebody other than himself, but a part of him wanted to be charmed by her sweet gesture.

 No fiber of him could see this as anything else other than either a offense to his strength or just her being stupid. Knowing how high she seemed to regard him whenever they interacted, he could tell it was the latter and Bakugou just didn’t know what he had done to deserve this pain in the ass. Why was she so fucking hellbent on being so generous when he hadn’t asked for this? He absolutely didn’t deserve being weak for whatever was her business.

 He didn’t care.

 “Uraraka,” the brunette snapped from her homework to look at her side as Bakugou went back to his task, and looked at her friend as she spoke in a hushed tone. “are you feeling alright? You are practically limping on the sheet.”

 At this, the girl immediately straightened her posture and laughed it off like probably everyone knew she would do. Some people like her friend Midoriya turned to look at her after Mina’s question, worried for a moment. “Ah, I’m fine.” her eyes drifted to her teacher for a moment, then she sighed. She shouldn’t have expected much from last night, yet she found herself to be disappointed at their remaining distance. “I just didn’t sleep much last night.”

 She heard a snapping noise coming from Bakugou’s direction, probably another broken pencil. He did that an awful lot lately. “You gotta take better care of yourself. I don’t want you going around like a zombie next time we go out!”

 “Which will probably be never considering the amount of work we have.”

 Mina rolled her eyes at Uraraka’s pointed look of exasperation, and focused on her work again. “Whatever. Just sleep properly for once.”

 Uraraka stuck out her tongue, and remained in a good posture for a minute before slumping over again, her writing becoming scribbled as minutes passed, the clock ticked, and before she could register it, everyone was gone and a hand slammed the desk around her, snapping her out of her awake sleep to look at the burning glare of her teacher.

 “I fucking hope you got somebody to take notes for you or else you are gonna fail the next exam.” she blinked at him, trying to focus as her back throbbed on the chair behind her. Uraraka tried to stretch it to make it feel better, aware of the fact that he knew what she was going through, but it only made it wince and bend over in pain. He crossed his arms. “Tch. I fucking told you I didn’t need your damn help. What the hell was this for?”

 Uraraka, seeing where his words were going, stood up to get her stuff, stiff as a plank to not overwork her back. Bakugou just observed her. “You needed my help for something. I just gave you a bed to sleep on. I can’t say you’d do the same, but…” she hung her backpack over her shoulder, offering him a smile. “I’m sure you are thankful for that, deep inside your frozen cold heart. Besides, it’s not like I would have been able to sleep knowing you were out there.”

 He seriously pondered the thought of telling her off for being such a damn dumbass, yet bit his words back like she should have. That girl was too fucking blunt and he didn’t know what to make of it, other than look away with a bashful expression. “Just don’t fucking go around thinking I’m a damn wimp or that I need your shitty help. I didn’t ask for it.”

 Why did he even care, again? He could see that very same question cross her eyes as she looked to a side for a moment, then looked up again with a reformed set of eyes charged with determination and unmovable kindness. The unstoppable force of her eyes and beautiful heart met the unmovable object of his stronghold heart.

 And then, something beautiful happened.

 “I don’t care what you say. I know you needed a bed, and I gave it to you. I don’t care you are my teacher, you were a person in need. We are not reduced to what we are in this university.” his eyes widened, a window slamming open to sway their hair along with the wind. “Just accept the gesture and do whatever you want with it.” with a frown to gather strength, she walked past his motionless towering posture. “I don’t care.”

 Her hand grabbed the handle to leave the room.

 “Say,” his voice came out gruff, and his expression was unreadable when he turned to look at her back facing him. Her hand gripped the handle harder. “do you still like coffee? I fucking need some explanations and you need to ginger up real bad.”

 “That’s…” her eyes looked over at him packing his stuff, and she was sure he had taken her answer for granted. What a fucking jerk. “a good idea.”

 But she accepted anyway, and boundless and free, accepted his request.

They sat down to coffee and cookies, but Uraraka felt like she was facing a final grudge.

 Sun filtered from the window as people passed past them on the street, making her aware of how thin his skin was, the paleness of it, and how thick his spirit was to fluster her so, making her shrink on her seat with her hands on her lap, looking down as the sounds of conflagration between people and mugs crashing met her ears— and suddenly, she was looking at his fierce glare again.

 “You are seriously spacing out today. I fucking hope you don’t show this demeanor in my class.”

 Great. The situation wasn’t weird enough, he had to make it worse. She looked at him with puffed cheeks, and took her mug of hot coffee. “You were the one who missed a train yesterday. Be on time next time.”

 He grunted at her, getting his own half-empty mug to sip from it. He needed the patience to deal with this. Bakugou didn’t usually go out of his way to thank someone like this, but no one had ever done something like this for him either. The whole situation was surreal and foreign to him, and he truly didn’t know what to do with his new information, or how she seemed to be smiling all the damn time.

 He was damn sure he could push her into an abyss and she’d manage to glitch back to his side, just in the same way that she thought there would never be a simple complacent smile on his handsome features. They were both possible realities, yet so intangible and complicated they could only wish it would happen once, someday.

 Man, how could their wishes be so different? She could see the burden she represented in his eyes, blatantly red and just too red, reminding her of blood and for a moment, she wondered if he had ever had blood splattered on his hands. Then, he spoke up. “You sure are sassy out of class.”

 Uraraka lay her cheek on her palm, stirring the creamy beverage without losing sight of his eyes. “I gotta be a bit more respectful to my sensei in the classroom, otherwise I guess I’d sound too familiar.” a hesitant grimace crossed his face. “Which we aren’t, are we?”

 “Of course fucking not.”

 Of course damn yes. And both knew it, that they were somehow closer — just a little, but that was enough — than they would wish, for good and for worse. He hated being so drawn to her when all she brought along was a headache. He needed to get this over with so they wouldn’t cross paths ever again— at least, out of the classroom.

 Her lips curled into a grin. “Then we are good.” Uraraka took a sip from her now half-full coffee, her nails grazing the china mug. “I’m sorry you felt somewhat indebted to make it up to me because I have a very weak back—”

 The blonde slammed a hand on the table, frowning at her. “I wasn’t fucking worried!” some people turned to look at him, preoccupied by the little girl’s sake if he was so near her. “I am just trying to be a bit nice. As you said, you gave me a bed— and I ain’t the jerk you take me for.”

 She ignored this and stirred her beverage again, grimacing a little because she was, again being a little too overbearing. “But thanks for this. It shows you have a bit of a heart, too.”

 He observed how the shadows of the passing people blended with her eyes, yet she seemed unfazed, like with the rest of the world. Their bizarre relationship didn’t burden her, nor did his heavy personality, or how fast they had seemed to crash into the other and grow this annoyingly close. A meeting, an earful, the sparkle of her eyes, her kindness meeting his animal manners and there she went, destroying his peaceful routine and paying for her coffee.

 This was stupid.

 As she kept her silence, Bakugou looked at her open bag — he couldn’t quite recall why it wasn’t closed, but it had something to do with her wanting to pay — and squinted his eyes to look at a huge book she had inside. It seemed to have something to do with his subject, but he couldn’t recall even recommending that certain read. “Roundface, what’s that book for?”

 She blinked once, twice, then looked at him with a cocked head. “Eh?” Bakugou pointed at the book, seemingly interested, and realization dawned on her when she saw the thick cover. “Oh, it’s just a complimentary book I took at the library.”

 “Complimentary? That damn thing must have my whole subject in it.” after a clap of silence, he leaned over the table to reach for it — meeting little resistance from her — and took it out of the bag to read it on his side of the table. His arms were strong and muscular, but even he could see that this book was way too thick for somebody like her to carry, despite the muscle that showed through the thin sleeves of her shirt. His eyes scanned the content. “Oi, what the fuck are you doing reading something this complicated?”

 The girl was back to fidgeting when he looked up, this time visibly annoyed to see that she was reading something as repetitive when she already had his lessons to learn from. Was she that stupid to not follow his classes? He hoped that was not the case. “I just want the extra support from other books so I get the best grades possible!”

 “So you just use this shit because you want to do your best?” she nodded eagerly. “You just want the extra support? Why the hell are you so eager for this?”

 Uraraka pursed her lips, thoughtful. There was no need for her to spill the beans this soon, or even give him a reason to pity her. Her reasons were strong, her resolve even stronger than whatever brash, snarky remarks he had in store for her. But something was preventing her from being open, it was maybe the impatience in his eyes for answers or the utter inner fear she held for his response.

 Uraraka gulped.

 “None of your business.” answered she, clear and serious, pretending to not hide anything while Bakugou knew she was hiding something, but he wasn’t interested enough to pry, and looked at the book again, half annoyed by her stupidity but amazed that she could understand its contents. He could remember having read some quotes from there in her exams. “I just want to do my best. Anything wrong with that?”

 It took him a moment to answer. “Not really. I’m just stunned you are so fucking hellbent on this. Don’t you have enough subjects to study?”

 “Nothing I can’t handle.” that was a smaller lie he didn’t need to know or care about. “I only give my all in things I’m interested in.”

 When Bakugou raised his eyes to meet hers again, there was a change in her expression. Her wide, big eyes were open to his red, raw irises were looking at him— not smiling, not fidgeting, just looking at him with no animosity, just staring like he had done many times before, and this time around, it made him consider the little girl in front of him. Then, he looked at the book, at her coffee, and the ghost of bags under her eyes.

 “You don’t need to lose your time with this bullshit.” Bakugou closed the book with a slam, refusing to look at her again, or else he’d lose his shit. “You can come to tutoring.”

 Her following reaction wasn’t what he had expected. Instead of a minor tease, a dashing smile of hers or a giggle, he got a blank, curious and confused stare, one he knew very well. He somehow knew her like the back of his hand, her being so simple, and it terrified him— that much so, he could tell what she would say next. “But you hate tutorings.”

 True. He had gone on and on to his pupils about how “they better not show up to private class, or else he’d beat their ass”, yet here he was, offering one of his best students his personal help. Let’s be frank, he at least had a reason to be interested given how implicated she was with his subject. If no one would prize her for such effort, he would sure do so, and with a certain amount of pleasure.

 “If you are gonna be cooperative and stop being a pain in the ass, I’m willing to help out. You could spend some time doing something else rather than be a fucking bookworm.” he drank from her surprised reaction, and smirked at how affected she looked for once, despite it being a good kind of surprise. Admittedly, he was surprised as well. “Just this once, to make sure you don’t have to repeat my classes next year and I gotta see your face again.”

 Then, she sighed, her shoulders dropped — just now did she realize they had been awfully tense all along — and she chuckled as her smile went back into place. “I’m glad you offered…” her smile evolved into a grin he wasn’t so displeased with. “I was so tired of carrying that book along, you got no idea.” sip of her coffee. “I didn’t know how to ask for help on the matter.”

 “I am your fucking teacher — if I don’t help you, who else will?”

 Her head tilted to a side, and after their beating hearts died down a little, for once, they took their coffees in unison.

Tutoring was somewhat easier than they had both expected, and what had began as initial banters and tension as she struggled through some units, they fell into a steady rhythm that no rain or storm could break. No matter the weather, no matter their busy schedules, and no matter what happened, somehow, they’d always meet at six o’clock at the gates to head to his office.

 It was weird, his office. Small, a desk at the back with a computer, shelves with tons of books, and a table on the centre of the room with comfy chairs. That was at least the most important things she could pick up from the get go, but she would surely see more as stuff got more boring. Something that, unbeknownst to her, would never happen.

 One afternoon, many weeks into their tutoring sessions, Uraraka had woken up from her nap damn in cold sweat, rapidly checking for her clock before dashing out, still weary and bags adorning her eyes, too tired for what she thought she could handle, and sped through town to reach the gates of her university, finding her brash yet most probably favourite teacher already waiting for her. Seeing Bakugou in such elegant clothes only reminded her of the professional gap between them, and it burnt within her in an annoyingly confusing way. Why did she feel so misplaced about this hinder in their relationship? Why should she when it didn’t seem to affect their current status?

 She couldn’t put her finger on it, but each time she thought about it, it irritated her and brought her down the wrong lane. It somehow made him feel out of reach, but why would she even consider that thought when there was nothing between them? Why would she feel so lonely with the mere thought of him being so far away? In fact, as she saw him rearrange the buttons of his shirt — why, she wondered, when he was askew in himself by nature — her mind spaced out right away.

 Fingers snapped in front of her. “Wake up already, we don’t have the whole day.”

 From closer inspection now, his eyes were somewhat weaker than usual, something akin to bags also looping under his eyes in dark rings. While falling into pace as they withdrew their eyes from the other, the image still churned in her like some kind of jinx cast on her focus, almost tripping on a step to the main doors— a mistake he obviously called out, but weaker than usual.

 He seemed pretty dim for the general roughness he displayed in his lectures. Regardless, Uraraka pretended not to care, ascending up the stairs to his office and skipping their usual small chat: chats she missed, chats on the weather, assignments, or him commenting on how stupid she was for her to respond with a snarky remark. It was always like that. Why wasn’t it now?

 He kicked the door to his office open with an ungentlemanly gesture, tossing his own bag to the nearest corner and throwing his weight on his usual chair. She joined soon after, rejoicing on the healing lights of golden sunlight streaming from the windows. “Let’s get this shit over with.” for once, he spoke up first, yet his voice was off, hoarse. She had never seen it like this.

 “Bakugou… is everything okay?” she asked, brow knit in worry, reaching out with a hand to his shoulder, only to have it swatted off in disdain, which made her flinch and look at him. He wasn’t one to be that reactive with her anymore, maybe sometimes snap verbally or bear with her for a second— he didn’t seem to have that patience today. “You look… tired.”

 He met her eyes in a sideways glare, then turning on his seat to look at her and speak with the quietest deadpan ever. “You are pale as fuck.”

 That was the understatement of the year. Her skin was pale by nature as she was usually covered in thick clothes whenever the sun shone in winter, and it was rarely hot and sunny in this town anyway. There didn’t seem to be anything wrong with her skin color. “What about that?”

 He cocked his head to a side like she was being bluntly oblivious to his point, reminding her again that he was a stage above her, a teacher used to scrutinizing all details he could in particular occasions. Or maybe it was Bakugou being the usual smartass as usual, but that was not the point.

 “You’re paler than usual.” grunted he, tapping his fingers against the mahogany table. “You’ve been the whole week and I can’t fucking stand it. I’m tired as hell, yeah, but I have shit to grade and therefore, a reason to be tired.” Uraraka could see where this was going, and knew she was somehow in trouble. “What the fuck has been holding you up from sleeping this time?”

 Uraraka narrowed her eyes at him, laying her cheek on her palm with a bored expression, trying to read through him but miserably failing to do so. “You’re not my fath—”

 Returning to his old self to some degree, he slammed a hand on the desk and, as concise and angry as ever, started letting the swears and profanity roll off his tongue. “You are my fucking student and that’s fucking enough, so shut up and answer me!” when she gave no answer to his earful and only looked to a side, gingerly playing with the hem of her shirt, he quickly got up from his chair and pulled out a book from his shelf, tossing it to the table and letting it slide next to her. “Where you up reading shit like this again?”

 Watching her face scrunch up to a pout, he knew what her answer was going to be and, once again, he was mortified at the thought that he could read her so well, but he wanted to blame that on her being too fucking expressive and dumb. He had seen her sprawled on a couch that morning, seen her doze off at the cafeteria, seen her fucking walk like a zombie past him, and he wasn’t going to have that in his tutoring hour.

 With a finger to her lip, she seemed to be lookin for a excuse, but he thought of her better to expect one. “I simply can’t sleep. Sometimes work does keep me up a blink more than necessary, but I can still pull it off.”

 “Pull it off my ass.” grunted he, sitting down again and staring at her for an answer, allowing her to look at the book in wonder. “I just don’t fucking understand what kind of fucking powerful drive you got to waste nights on top grades you don’t fucking need.”

 Uraraka reached to open the book and peek at it, only to be stopped by her teacher, as if the sole action of touching it would obliterate her. Uraraka tried again, but this time he pushed the book to a side and grabbed his chair to flip it and place it an inch away from hers, purposefully making her uncomfortable so she would speak up already. Seeing his best student in such condition upset him in a weird way. He crossed his arms on the back of the seat and leaned in, scowling.

 Some minutes ticked by with her not looking anywhere else but her thighs, and Bakugou letting his eyes roam around every inch of her china doll skin. Despite how ragged she looked that day, her beauty still remained there and it was driving him up the damn wall of his office. His gravelly voice could push her as much as he wanted and spit on her awful looks, but she was still too pretty for him to handle, above all when she turned like she was doing and parted her lips to—

 “My parents have a business… a pretty unsuccessful one.” mumbled she, and judging by the little hints he had seen around her — her quaint apartment, her clothes, and even her behavior sometimes, for all that he knew she wasn’t the richest person in town. And somehow, it hadn’t occurred to him that she was actually poor, despite all signs around him, until now— as if he lived by her words only. “Their style is pretty unique and… it doesn’t fit the style and needs of this city, especially after all storms that have been around lately.”

 Alright, that sounded like a valid story, a very moving plot and all, but the question still prevailed. He tapped the book before him with an arched eyebrow, glancing at her. “Still doesn’t explain what this all is about.”

 Uraraka gulped. “R-right. So,” she took a deep breath, and continued. “my parents may probably need some help sorting out the money business of the company, or I may actually start a company of my own in the future, or maybe support them economically with a job of my own…” then, she started doing that silly thing she did whenever grades were handed, or she just grew anxious, and tangled her fingers through her back hair to comb through it hurriedly. “So since I have very few options around here… this was the best I could take.”

 At the sudden influx of information, Bakugou blinked at her once, then twice, and then looked out at the window with an impassive expression that reflected on his thoughtful stance, making her grow tense. She knew he was a harsh man, full of swear words and high expectations for anyone around him to be the best they can be — as soon as they don’t meddle with his ambitions and personal life — so what if she wasn’t good enough now that she was so exposed? Maybe he found her to be pitiful, perhaps boring or just a sad, bleak—?

 “I get it, then.”

 Huh?

 “I mean,” Bakugou let his guard down somewhat, and groaned while rubbing his eyes open with a grimace of distaste. “it’s not that much of a great drive but… it’s a valid one. I can understand your case— not relate to it because my parents aren’t fucking humble, but it’s your parents, so I guess I can see why.”

 At his understandment and somehow seeing progress between them, Uraraka dared to share the start of a grin. “I’m so glad you—”

 And the grin was gone as soon as he jabbed her on the forehead, making her hiss as he shook his head in disapproval. “That ain’t mean you can fucking work yourself to death for that. You will get a good job and formation with the little effort you put at the start of the semester, so just rest for some time and don’t let it get to you so fucking badly, got it?”

 Seeing through his words to find a compliment, Uraraka smiled as she rubbed the spot on her forehead. “Thank you so much, I guess… but I don’t need the rest!” the girl eagerly started getting her stuff out of her bag. “Above all now that I’m here, we can—”

 Bakugou forcefully grabbed her bag and started stuffing all her materials inside, zipping it up again before grabbing her jacket and bending it on the table. He pointed at the make-shift pillow matter-o’-factly. “Sleep.”

 The thought of sleeping in a relatively public area seemed preposterous to her no matter how many times she had been close to doing so. “What?”

 “I said you fucking sleep.” Bakugou had been in her stressful spot of non-sleeping days not that long ago, and he knew he would have been thankful as shit for the gesture he was now offering her. “I am not in the mood to put up with you dozing off on me, so either you sleep here, or I’m sending you home.”

 The brunette gave it two seconds of thinking before giving up all too easy for what he was used to, and she crossed her arms on the pillow before leaning into it. “You can be so violent sometimes, Bakugou…” her eyelids dropped close with such ease that Bakugou was left thinking he wished she was so easy when it came to pushing her away— but it seemed pointless now. “It makes me wonder…”

 He words trailed off as she slowly fell asleep, making him feel drowsy at the thought of being in the same spot as her. He glanced up at the clock: in two hours, his train would be leaving the station, so he had quite some time to spare before she woke up, and he was tired too. Many assignments that were all copy-paste, lots of meetings and too many paperwork nights spent in insomnia later, he bent his own coat on his side of the desk and placed his head on it.

 He only became wary of how close they were when her eyes opened an inch, fluttering for a few seconds in which he reflected how it seemed like the light filled them like stars, or how tousled her hair was and the dark rings under her eyes. No matter how tired or drained she was, somehow, she always managed to look beautiful and smile again, didn’t she? Why was it that he liked it more the more often he saw her around him?

 And… why wasn’t he pulling away from her now? Why hadn’t he sent her home like he should have in the first place? Why wasn’t she pulling away either?

 Maybe, thought he as their eyes drifted close, he was too selfish to let her go, no matter how wrong it was.

 Maybe, they were too selfish to let go of this messy arrangement and relationship, the hope for company, no matter how wrong it was or how tragically it was bound to end.

 An hour later, Bakugou woke up to see Uraraka was not there.

Actually, the following day, she wasn’t there either. Her seat was vacant, people peering over her empty seat as some kind of hole knit itself to his heart, feeling like suddenly, there was no way she could be alright if she was skipping class.

 However, maybe he wouldn’t see her in class in the morning, but he sure as hell would see her at tutoring. Just as he started scripting his earful for that afternoon, the voices of that pink haired girl called Mina came to his ears.

 “She told me yesterday she wasn’t feeling well… but I bet she is skipping sleep again. She must be recovering from her illness from last week.” there was an audible sigh, then her glancing up at Bakugou in a way that made him knew she knew more than she should. “She is pushing herself too hard again.”

 And that was the last nail on the coffin for him.

Bakugou, strangely enough, wasn’t at the gates when she appeared. Admittedly, she was ten minutes late, and was deadly aware of how nitpicky he could be when it came to meetings and tutoring. That man… he didn’t enjoy wasting time, did he? Well, Uraraka had some explanations to give for her delay, and hurried to the building to fly upstairs, run across the corridors until she was face to face with his office’s door.

 A part of her felt like an intruder when he wasn’t there to walk her. Somehow, the familiarity of the situation was lost without him grunting by her side— and the sole thought made her need him again. Hesitant, Uraraka knocked on the door twice, and allowed herself in without further ado.

 “Sorry for being late!” she grinned toothly at him — trying to hide that her knees were buckling, that she was too tired for this, that she needed to lay down fast to have some sleep, and closed the door behind her. “I know you hate people being late and all but…”

 Uraraka trailed off when she saw him sitting on the other side of the room, glaring daggers at her as a shadow was cast on his handsome features— a sight that made her shudder for the fierceness it oozed, but didn’t let herself be intimidated. He was probably upset because she was late, and just as the student took in his expression and opened her mouth to explain, the teacher was already up and walking to her side with hunched shoulders. It was gestures like these that made her remember he was older than her, a teacher, yet he looked so young and carefree.

 She hated that tugging twitch at her heart whenever he stepped close. Just like the day before when they had slept awfully close and she had panicked, fleeing the scene with a mad blush across her cheeks. It was disgusting to feel this twisted feeling, and not be able to sleep because of it— because of him. She despised it.

 Bakugou stood before her for a minute, as if analyzing her sweaty temple and the mess that was her hair before taking a step closer to the table and pushing everything on it to a side, almost throwing it all away altogether, and pointed at the now clean surface. “Sit.”

 Taken aback, she looked at the very comfy chair and wasted no time on replying. “But the—”

 “I told you to fucking sit, Uraraka.” grunted he hurriedly, watching her fidget. “I’m not gonna repeat myself.”

 Torn yet curious, the brunette hopped on the mahogany table and placed her bag on the chair, kicking her feet as she waited for something else to come. His eye was twitching in impatience at the image, because he just didn’t know what the fuck he was doing. Some kind of instinct had kicked in the instant she walked through the door, and all he knew now was that he needed her to be idle, to not have control over him and just fucking listen.

 He stepped close to her again, and slanted a hand on the table, by her side. All with a very raging, angry and fed up attitude. He wasn’t good news. “You overdid it again.”

 Another set of shivers ran down her back as his hoarse words sunk in, his eyes red like fresh coal digging through her as if to get an expression out of her too still frame, that started shrinking until her hands were bunching the fabric of her skirt. “I was—”

 “Running on a damn fever.” Uraraka’s eyes snapped to meet his deep scowl, made her grimace and suddenly she didn’t know how to react to his blazing anger: should she stay silent, should she apologize for wasting his time, or maybe talk back? Honestly, she didn’t know — but one thing she knew was that he was a bit too close to her liking. “And you still came to tutoring when I clearly told you that I was sick of you overdoing it.”

 The girl blinked once, then twice, thinking her answer through whereas Bakugou was just sick of having such reckless student. Things needed to change is she really wanted the grades she needed, otherwise she would drain herself out until she couldn’t think straight and that was the last thing he needed, having a student on a catatonic state, limping in his class.

 But even while he was right and just stubborn to make her change, she had the half mind to answer back. “I already explained you the situation! It’s not like I want to stay up studying, it’s not that—”

 “I already fucking told you that you don’t need that! Can you even listen to me when I speak or are you just letting butterflies cloud your brains? Just—” he shook his head to collect his thoughts, too stressed and confused to actually think straight, letting his train of thought scatter into her parted lips and the scent of her soap hair. This was going to get dangerous soon, she was intoxicating and too damn stubborn and stupid. “Just fucking listen to me for once! I’m not gonna keep on tutoring you if you are gonna keep working even while sick!”

 “This is ridiculous— you are my teacher!” Bakugou’s eyes widened at this, as did hers at the words that had flown out of her mouth mindlessly. Nevertheless, the pushed forward. “What is it to you that I work myself to death if my grades satisfy you? What the hell am I to you to be so worked up about this!?”

 A second passed with them staring silently at the other, her eyes even wider at the words she had spluttered so carelessly and his… what was that in his eyes? Why did he seem so torn, so tormented— why wasn’t he angry at her for being so disrespectful? Why wasn’t he acting like a damn teacher and stopping this— stopping her from being so sassy!? Why wasn’t he treating her like another student, why had he always been so damn careful? Why didn’t he get angry at her like he used to, or even slap her, so something to stop the feelings that surged through her, the confusion, the anger, but the desperate sudden need to know what she was to him?

 Why couldn’t he, the powerful one, stop whatever was going on through them that was so damn wrong!? She couldn’t understand, and screwing her eyes shut in confusion and fear, she just didn’t seem to be able to put the pieces together. Why was he being so adamant on her health, why did he pretend to care or pretend to be someone else when he was no more than her fucking teacher?

 She couldn’t understand — Uraraka shook her head, and something touched her jaw — she just couldn’t—

 She didn’t even have time to realize it, because as soon as he seized her jaw with his powerful hands, his lips were pressed tightly against hers— and she couldn’t figure out what was going on, her whole world spinning before stopping on its tracks as she realized.

 Bakugou Katsuki, her teacher, the heartless bastard of the department— he was kissing her.

 What?

 Uraraka’s first instinct of course, was to melt into it— but confusion was seeping into her and her dominant fiber needed to know what was this that was happening, and she fought him back. The brunette pressed her hands against his chest to push him away with strong tugs, and though he did hesitate once, his touch faltering, he only came back stronger, and didn’t budge again. Grunting against his mouth, Uraraka continued pushing him away, shaking in his arms, kicking her feet—

 But his touch softened, somewhat. His hold became gentler, his lips angled in a much more comfortable fashion, as if letting her choose and letting her move… and her fighting stopped, it weakened until the hands on his chest weren’t pushing him away, but grabbing the collar of his shirt and pushing him closer to her, earning a hum of approval from him and suddenly, no matter how wrong this was, she was kissing him back.

 The gentleness of his touch despite how aggressive and hungry his kiss was made her swoon and let her hands creep to his neck to push him down on her, and his eyes widened because she was too sweet, her lips glossy and her skin just as smooth as he had imagined so many sinful nights ago— how long had they wanted this? Maybe for too long. Maybe she had wanted him ever since she first saw him, maybe he had, too.

 But all the hate she had felt for him and the exhaustion she had poured in him had flipped into an euphorical sensation of need and hunger, making his kiss turn into something more heated, more intimate, dipping his fingers under the fabric of her shirt to hold onto her waist as her legs curled around his hips, and he knew he was a defeated man right then. Too bad. Uraraka was no longer the good student she had intended to be, she was now making out with her too attractive teacher in his office.

 Too bad that her heart was beating this fast, too, her feelings suddenly coming clean and she knew that there was something deeper to the way they held each other, to how his lips were so tender but violent against hers. When he bit on her lower lip, she opened her mouth gladly and allowed him to slip in, toy with her until she was a shivering mess in his arms, winding her fingers into his blonde hair as he dipped her head down, drinking from her as if he was dying and she was his salvation.

 When his tongue flicked the ceiling of her mouth, a loud moan of surprise escaped her pink, bitten lips, and when he growled a curse against her, Uraraka ran her hands down his chest through his thin shirt. He allowed her touch him so, just as she let him undo a few buttons of her shirt as he ravished her for a better view. Her mind was foggy when he broke away to look at her, a thumb to her bottom glistening lip as he gazed down.

 They didn’t last like that for too long. Two seconds later, Uraraka was curling her arms around his neck as he took over her hips, tangling their lips together into another sloppy kiss to unwind all anger and frustration with bites, grunts and touches that were all but innocent. Panting, exploring each other’s mouths as they curled around one another, brushing and scratching, groaning into the other in the intimacy of the teacher’s office.

 His lips found purchase on her jaw, sucking and nibbling there and making Uraraka wipe some clammy strands from her forehead as his cologne burst through her nostrils. The kiss alone felt too good to not be wrong and sinful, and his touching wasn’t making it any better. This could only go downhill from there.

 “Bakugou…” breathed she, him sucking on her pulse and she wanted to push him away, but only ended snaking her legs around him harder. Almost thoughtlessly, Uraraka curiously dipped a hand under his shirt, gasping at how warm he was and spreading her fingers to feel his skin, one so calloused and hard it was no wonder he looked so good on shirts like these. But she had the primal instinct to tear it off, maybe just like he was attempting to do right now, biting on her buttons. “Bakugou… this is…”

 Knowing what she was going to say, he silenced her with a bite to her neck, and as her head was thrown back with a gasp, he travelled north to kiss the skin under her ear, leaving them both in a panting mess. It was getting too hot in there, he knew— and honestly, he wasn’t exactly sure of what made him become such a damn wuss when it came to her, but he couldn’t help himself any longer. The mistake was already done and sinning this bad had never felt near this good.

 This was better than he had ever imagined. Bakugou had acted on pure instinct, letting this hidden desire take over and man, it had been a pretty wrong small, hidden fantasy to have, getting it on with Uraraka in his office — emphasis: not any student, but student Uraraka Ochako — but when he saw the opening and the opportunity, he let it bloom. The question is… when had this started, why now of all times and would kissing ever stop feeling this fucking good?

 After they spent nearly another minute lip-locking and moaning into the other, they broke away, hands tangled in each other’s clothing as a ravenous blush splashed their pale cheeks, a bead of sweat running down his brow as he looked down at her with an unreadable expression of raw desire and remains of anger from… minutes? hours ago? She couldn’t remember, or care at this point.

 Uraraka tried to talk again, breathing ragged.

 “This is…” she let go of his shirt to run a hand down her face, realizing the match they had so dangerously lighted. “this is wrong…”

 He knew. A student and a teacher, making out when there wasn’t even any attraction between them— except that maybe, perhaps, only possibly, there had always been this annoying yet so tempting attraction between them without their consent, rising and  sparking so hard and suddenly that they were overcome with the feeling to kiss each other again, and it was so damn obvious there was no room to deny it anymore.

 And suddenly, he realized he couldn’t back away any longer, and groaned in disagreement. “I know.” but he brought her closer. “But I disagree.”

 She disagreed, too. Pursing her lips and blushing even harder if possible, Uraraka fought the mortification down and brought her hands to his hair, looking at him in doubt. “Then kiss me again, will you?”

 He had only needed that lead to take over, and kissed her to his heart’s content until the lines between them were blurry enough to skip over.

Uraraka Ochako had a crush on her teacher.

 Uraraka Ochako had a crush on her teacher. Of all people in this forsaken world, she had a crush on Bakugou Katsuki. And ever since that fateful day in his office, it had without a doubt turned into an awkward messy relationship.

 Or boundless friendship, companionship or whatever.

 And it mattered a lot because things had changed, maybe for the worse, she couldn’t tell. Everytime they crossed paths on the corridors or locked eyes during class, she would turn into the worst case of crush embarrassment of the century.  Her cheeks would heat up and turn steamy, her hands would be sweaty and it was just too damn awful that their previous camaraderie and companionship had evolved into her being a blushy mess and he… well…

 Bakugou couldn’t look at her without remembering what had happened and, now with his head clear, he realized it had been a horrendous mistake. Just as soon as he had come home from their heated day, he remembered so many things that he had pushed aside lately: this was a temporary job, he had a office and a salary waiting for him out of this university once the semester ended, he couldn’t afford ties with anyone here.

 Except that he had now established ties with her and his heart couldn’t bear losing their routines of tutoring, sometimes having coffee together with her teasings and her stupid butterfly laughs. It was something he had gotten used to somehow, and all he knew was that he hated her— only to realize it was all crap and had a crush on her, too.

 And it was not like she was making his job any goddamn easier, always being so close and always being… her, in every way. As days passed and final exams came to view, their tutoring sessions became scarcer and scarcer until Uraraka was sitting on a desk, finishing her exam with a smile and handling it to him in a fashion he saw too informal, so wrong.

 By the way she grimaced as she exited the room, he knew she was aware of this too. Their newfound feelings for the other were obvious, yet unspoken and only making his job harder. Their minds would go back to each other, to what happened in his office, and praying destiny would forgive this mistake.

 And Bakugou knew how to make it heal, how to set the record right again. He wouldn’t be able to stand idle and see time destroy someone he had come to treasure— not when he could avoid it.

 As soon as the classes for the semester were over, he sent over a letter to his secretary, explaining that she had to send an email to all his students to cancel all tutorings from that day onward. An hour later, when he came to his office, he was informed that all had been done as asked, but this didn’t calm him the slightest.

 He had cut one chord now. He had to walk the path and destroy the others, too.

 That afternoon, Bakugou waited for her to appear at their tutoring hour, expecting Uraraka to come with tearful eyes, printed email bunched in her trembling hands to ask for explanations— but that was nothing else than a mirage, blended with the sunset that streamed down his office.

 She never came. But somehow, he could hear her crying in the distance— maybe because he felt like crying as well, and maybe would have if he felt he had a reason to. He had a bright future ahead of him, new things awaited after this, this he was going through was supposed to be a distraction, just an economist teaching something he was passionate about.

 She wasn’t supposed to come around. But he was the one waiting for her until the gates closed, holding on for now.

He cancelled his class the following day, the last day of the semester before winter break. Everyone had been somewhat rejoiced over being able to go home earlier and meet their families— all but someone, a certain brunette who had stared at the paper on the door, checked the news on her phone and breathed deep, tears gathering in her eyes as she tore the notice from the door, alone in the corridor.

 Uraraka staggered back, tears prickling anew before flying upstairs to his office, knocking and knocking as all the time she had allowed to pass between them crumbled to nothing, feeling air leave her lungs. This was what he wanted, putting space between them so they could both figure what they wanted— but no one told her he would end up leaving her alone.

 He was her teacher. But was it that wrong to have feelings for him?

 She wanted to think it wasn’t. So she dashed down the stairs to search for him, to confront him with all she knew, all she had been told, and as Uraraka gathered all words she had to say, a mane of golden strands and pale skin crossed her vision as he walked down to the gates of the university.

 Uraraka had never ran this fast in her life, chasing after a man that was probably never meant to be hers. Her heart couldn’t bear the thought, yet punished her with the ultimate truth: he was leaving, he wasn’t looking back, he hadn’t looked for her to say goodbye.

 She needed to know.

 “I have talked with the head of your department!” exclaimed she from the middle of the path, closing her eyes as she bunched the paper in her fists. “I know everything, Bakugou!”

 That made him stop in his tracks, and stiffen. It dawned on her that he still looked as radiant as the day she had seen him for the first time, that nothing had probably changed ever since then— but she needed to know what his heart hid from her, she needed to hear the truth from his own lips.

 Between staggered breaths, Uraraka found the courage to speak again.

 “You are leaving— you aren’t coming back.”

 Two seconds of silence passed between them as they stood too far away in the empty garden of the university. Would he crumble if he looked back? Would she see how much it bothered him to leave? Would he see how much it hurt her that they had had so little time together?

 How could them being together be so wrong if they were hurting like this?

 “You… you aren’t coming back.” when he heard her voice tremble, Bakugou craned his head to look at her briefly, his scarlet eyes flashing in the same violent and hypnotizing way as before. But his brows weren’t creased, he wasn’t angry— he was tired of this. “You didn’t even have the guts to- to say goodbye to me.”

 He was a damn bastard for wanting to put space between him someone that loved him this much. He truly didn’t deserve anything good from her. And she was too stupid to not realize where she was getting into. Bakugou’s jaw clenched as a small, almost unnoticable sob escaped her bruised lips.

 Make it stop. “You never even told me what you felt… you just wanted me to leave you alone, didn’t you!?” Make it stop. “You aren’t enough of a fucking man to tell me you didn’t want me for anything else than that, huh!?”

 Bakugou let her go on, bunched the fabric of his pockets, and just kept his distance again. Like he always did and… how it was meant to be. He mumbled her name, his voice shaking, but there was no way for her to hear him considering the shivering, sobbing mess she was.

 The woman who always smiled had been dragged to her knees by the person she loved. It was… ironic, cruel, and Bakugou hated it. He didn’t want any of this. He couldn’t have any of this. She was still speaking, still blaming him— but he couldn’t listen, only hear to protect his breaking heart.

 After a minute, Uraraka didn’t see him even flinch— as if he was confirming the very truth she was spilling, and growled audibly in frustration. “That’s what you want, right? Me being gone.”

 He wanted to say no, he wanted her to run into his arms and ask for her forgiveness for misleading her— but he truly hadn’t, had he? He loved her, he wanted her by his side and he had behaved to push her along. If his future hadn’t come in between them, perhaps he would have given her the happy ending she deserved.

 His silence, somehow, was enough of an answer to her. Uraraka laughed bitterly. “I see… you do have a future in a good business, right? Y-Your parents business… you aren’t suited to be a teacher anyway.”

 Yes, he wasn’t. She knew too, right? She also thought this was the right thing to do— no matter how much it hurt. Bakugou nodded, his eyes fixated on the gate before him. In a few steps’ time, he would be gone from her life. They would be over. He wouldn’t see her ever again.

 He couldn’t fathom seeing her one last time— not like this. This wasn’t his Uraraka.

 “Y-Yeah… it’s the best for you, right?” she wanted him to answer it wasn’t, it was terrible to lie this badly. But this would be the last time she would have to. “It’s been a pleasure to be your student, s-sensei.” Don’t do that. “I hope your life is full of the happiness I didn’t have time or… power to give you.”

Bakugou screwed his eyes shut, his hands trembling. Don’t do it!

 “I’m glad I got to meet you.” a gravelly, meek sob escaped her lips, so pitiful this was when he wanted to cry for breaking her heart like this. For their future’s sake. “I’m sorry I caused all this trouble...”

 Gathering all her final strength, Uraraka threw the tear stained paper to the ground, rolling to his feet before turning heel towards the building.

 “Goodbye.”

 Bakugou probably stood for several minutes there, processing so many thoughts at once that when he turned with an urgent expression of regret in his face, ready to confess to her after months of being oblivious— she was gone.

 Her hurried steps to the building were tempting to follow, yet he couldn’t bring himself to drag this any further. All he did was gulp with a grim grunt of frustration, drowning in the many mistakes that had followed their downfall, and walked away from it all into his future.

Days were gray, nights were black, and sunshine was white. The intense vibrant color of his eyes was washed away by tedious, boring routines, the uncomfortable feel of his shirt against his skin. The world looked like a heavy, dreary place to live in that day. Everything was annoying, boring and empty for him.

 His feet stepped on the pavement seeking comfort from the rain. Perhaps he would have saved himself this trouble if he was emotionally sober enough, as this numbness in his heart was possibly the worst of illnesses he had gone through.

 He wanted to wonder, did she feel this too? No part of him had space to wonder, satisfied and busy with his own life, but he hoped she didn’t. The date flashed in front of him on a digital screen, one he recognized immediately to be the end of the last semester, in an strangely rainy summer day.

 Bakugou was a successful manager at his parents’ design company, endless tasks cluttering his head to keep him busy and away from disturbing thoughts. In the end, the job of his dreams had turned out to be no more than a placebo for the pain it had costed. It had been a heavy price, one he was still paying for.

 A price he sometimes felt to be too much of a burden considering how numb, unhappy, frustrated and messy he had become. It was a satisfying job, with a good paycheck where he did things he enjoyed — namely, bossing his secretaries around — but he missed that one feeling.

 And Bakugou couldn’t help but miss her, too, sometimes.

 Sighing, the blonde entered the crowded cafeteria and shook the water off his hair. The bell chimed animatedly as the door closed behind him, and the man glanced around the room to search for a place to sit until the rain passed.

 Then, as if the skies had opened and a crack of sunlight had broken into his life, he heard a voice.

 It was quiet, almost too quiet for what he had gotten used to back then, but it was her voice and he couldn’t help but look around, searching for her head in the mass of people that sat and queued in the cafeteria. Cinnamon and vanilla wafted in the air, making it all more familiar and blatant to him.

 Bakugou considered it to be no more than his imagination, and let it be for two seconds before he saw orange, then brown and pale skin that swirled in front of him. He wanted to reach out and touch her, make sure this was real and that after those many months of waiting and dreaming, she was before him again— and not forbidden, anymore.

 When the sound of the bells stopped ringing, she eventually looked back too, eyes widening and only confirming that this was no illusion, all feelings crossing their eyes before Bakugou was able to draw a gentle intake of air, breathe deeply, and sigh.

 There was a cute girl on the queue.