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tharroswrites · 7 years ago

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Kacchako Week 2018 Day One: New Beginnings

It’s the second year Sports Festival and Uraraka has something to prove.

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The arena smells like sweat and freshly poured concrete as she takes a decidedly hesitant step into the sunlight, blistering after the quiet dark of the waiting rooms. People are screaming on all sides and mostly it sounds like white noise, but she can pick out Mina’s voice, amplified ten times over by Jirou, chanting “Ochako! Ochako!” like a mantra.

Some of the voices (most of them, if she’s being honest) are calling out the name of her opponent.

She stares him down across the field, tension taut between them like a slingshot ready to be loosed and her second step forward has Ochako rolling her shoulders and bouncing on the balls of her feet.

She’s ready for this. She’s been ready for a long, long time.

But his green eyes lack the fire she wants to see and he looks...scared, but not of her. He’s scared for her and it shakes her confidence and takes her back to this day last year—he’s holding out his notebook and telling her has a plan for her fight against Bakugou and—

And even now he thinks she doesn’t have a chance in hell.

Maybe she doesn’t.

She knows the extent of his power now—One for All—and it’s an insurmountable cliff in the face of her lesser aspirations, but she’s been training just as hard as the rest of them (harder, even), and she thinks she deserves a little more than his resignation to her inevitable defeat.

“You know the rules,” Aizawa, reffing this year since he’s not in a full-body cast, tells them with his usual exhausted indifference, making a vague gesture that might mean ‘Go.”

Deku looks content to turn this into a staring contest as he drops into a defensive stance and shows no signs of attacking.

Fine, Ochako thinks, a hint of bitterness in it and it annoys her because she doesn’t want to be angry with him. He doesn’t deserve her wrath because he is stronger. But he’s not infallible, and he should know that Ochako is damn good at exploiting other people’s mistakes and underestimations.

Playing defense is no way to win and Ochako plans to coax One for All out of him if it’s the last thing she does. Besides, One for All is the thing he’d chosen over her—she’d only learned about the power in the first place because of her own red-faced, stuttering confession of her feelings toward the boy now standing across the arena.

She’s gotten over the rejection, just like she got over her Sports Festival loss to Bakugou the year before—slowly, with an edge and a drive and a need to push herself so far beyond her limits that there’s no room left for self pity. Their friendship, to their credit, survived the awkwardness following that particular conversation, but Ochako wonders now if it makes her weaker in his eyes, knowing that she lets thoughts other than being Number One enter her mind.

Well. She’s going to show him.

He’ll expect a head on charge and so she shoots straight up instead, launching herself into the air like a bottlerocket and flipping, releasing her Quirk to fall toward him, a kick aimed at his mop of messy green hair. He dodges left and she lands and rolls, coming up into a crouch and pivoting to face him with a hand outstretched and she just misses as the pads of her fingers brush his tracksuit but not his body.

“I don’t want to use my Quirk on you, Uraraka,” he says quietly, for her ears only. “Please.”

But she’s not having that and so, still crouching, she balances on her hands and swings her legs around in a kick aimed at his knees. He jumps backward again and she wonders if he’s trying to tire her enough to knock her out of the ring on her own mistake.

She springs to her feet but he’s still in his defensive stance and she half-shouts-half-growls, “Then forfeit!” before she charges him like a battering ram.

Her words catch him off guard enough that he falters and she barrels into him with a wild yell, fingers digging into his shoulder as her Quirk activates and he begins to float. She doesn’t give him a chance to recover as she grabs him by the collar and slings his weightless form across the arena.

He flips in the air, using a low-powered shoot style kick at the wall to create enough wind to send him back into the arena and he just...hangs in the air with uncertainty written all across his face. A younger version of herself would’ve thought it was sweet, his concern with her safety, but she’s not fifteen anymore and she’s spent the last year and a half building herself into a warrior and a hero and she’s tired of everyone treating her like she so damn breakable because she’s not. She can take a hit from any of them and the hits she can’t take she’s smart enough to avoid and it’s so frustrating that Deku, for all his observational skills, fails to see that.

And the way he’s fighting—just waiting for her to mess up—it’s eating away at her confidence because he knows her. Is the probability of her making a game-changing mistake really so high that he’s betting his victory on it?

He must see the hurt in her face because his expression changes, softens, and though she knows it’s meant to be comforting it doesn’t sit right because she’s not a victim that he’s saving from a villain. She’s a rival and a partner and...and an equal, she likes to think. But maybe he’s too busy playing Atlas to notice those trying to help him bear the burden.

She doesn’t give herself time to overthink it because that’s what Deku would do—is doing. She jumps at him with all her weight behind her, twisting in the air to gain momentum in the kick she aims at his stomach. He blocks it with his arms, but Ochako swears she hears his wrist crack.

Deku, unused to zero gravity, goes spinning away with the force of her kick and she lands back in the arena with her fingertips pressed together, waiting for the moment—

“Release!” she calls as Deku reaches an upside-down arc in air, and he starts falling face-first out of bounds. It’s not enough and she knows it, running toward him and lunging, ready to slam her elbow into his back and drive him harder into the ground, but he grabs her wrists and flings her away from him—back toward the ring. Another low level kick brings him back to the ring too, and he’s slowly beginning to look a little worse for wear, but it’ll come down to who can hold out longer if something doesn’t change now.

They stand, several feet apart and both breathing a bit hard. Ochako feels her blood go steely as he sinks back into a defensive stance.

So she rips the arena floor out from under him.

“Fight me for real or forfeit!” she shouts again as the concrete comes up under her fingers where she’s wedged them in a crack in the floor. The entire slab goes weightless and with a heave that only involves her strength against Deku’s weight, she flips him.

“I don’t know how,” he says, quietly as he scrambles to hang onto the small bit of stage that’s left in the wake of her frustration.

“That isn’t true!” she shouts back and it’s then that she realizes she’s crying. “You know exactly how to fight me and you won’t because you think I can’t take it!”

She rushes him. Let him think she’s making a stupid, emotional mistake.

And he does think that, sidestepping and attempting to use her own momentum against her and trip her out of the ring, but she’s ready for it, and she hooks her own foot around his and flips him over her back and out of bounds. He lands hard, surprised and disoriented, but Uraraka is already walking away, Present Mic declaring her the winner from his box atop the stadium.

—

Back in the waiting room, her hands are shaking. She sits at the table, ignoring the calls and texts lighting up her phone.

The door bangs open and Ochako clenches her hands into trembling fists.

“Please, Deku, I don’t want to talk right now—”

“Do I look like that damn nerd to you?”

She blinks and looks up to Bakugou Katsuki filling the doorframe. He’s got his hands in his pockets and a practiced scowl on his face as he looks down his nose to where she sits at the table.

“Oh, Bakugou, what—”

“Don’t bring your stupid emotional shit to the finals,” he says bluntly. “It’s not worth anything if your head isn’t in it.”

It’s not worth anything if you opponent is holding back. Bakugou, Ochako thinks, knows that better than anyone.

She stands and faces him, mustering all the grit she can. “You don’t have to worry about that, Bakugou.” She’s itching for a real fight, and he would give it to her without a fleeting thought for what she could or couldn’t handle. Even still, she adds, “Don’t you go holding back against me.”

His wild grin coupled with his signature ‘tch’ is all the answer she really needs. And as he turns on his heel, she realizes her hands have stopped shaking.

—

Her blood thrums through her veins in an adrenaline-powered anthem, and the only certain thing in the whole arena stands across from her in the fire and brimstone form of Bakugou Katsuki. She’s counting on him more than she ever has before. Counting on him to give her everything and then some.

Because, damn it all, if anyone will, it’s him.

When Aizawa says “Go,” Bakugou careens toward her like a wrecking ball set to crack through her foundations and she feels a manic smile of her own mirror his as she charges forward to meet him halfway.

Sure as the sun in the sky, his explosive right hook flies toward her first and she drops to slide under it and into his knees, but he uses the momentum of the punch to step around her and fire an explosion at her back. She rolls into a handspring, launching herself upward and over his attack with a little help from her Quirk and there’s a second where she’s upside down in the air, facing him, and their eyes meet and the ecstatic, ready, bring it the fuck on look on his face is all the encouragement she could ask for.

He’s aiming his attacks above the ground to avoid a repeat of last year and that’s fine with her—she’ll make it as hard on him as possible. She releases her Quirk and drops, landing in a squat and staying low as she rushes him.

He’s ready for her and dives feet-first into a sliding attack of his own. His legs go between hers and there’s a split second of eye contact before his hand is on her stomach and a blast from his palm sends her skyward, forcing her to activate her Quirk on herself to lessen the impact. There’s a hot, rippling pain across her abdomen, but there’s no time to worry about that as he jumps back to his feet and she releases her Quirk to dive bomb him.

Her hands connect with his shoulders and he doesn’t have time to get his arms between them before she slams him into the ground under the full force of her velocity.

Without missing a beat, as soon as his back smashes into the concrete, he’s got his knees wedged against her chest and his sneakers on her thighs in a kick that flings her off of him. She activates her Quirk again, just long enough to gain her balance and land on her feet, but he’s already up again and barreling into her stomach. It’s her turn to have her back slammed into the ground, but as he’s raising a crackling hand above her pinned form, she presses her fingers into his leg and bucks her body hard, sending him up and off her.

There’s a split second of disorientation flitting across his face as he floats, but then he shifts, adjusts like the skilled fighter he is and he straight up blasts himself back toward the ground like a meteor from the far flung reaches of the galaxy.

Ochako waits, feigning uncertainty, but at the last possible second, his feet inches from her chest, she jumps to the side and releases her Quirk and he hits the stage in a great explosion of rubble.

It’s what she’s been waiting for, having activated her Quirk on the upper level of concrete with her first handspring, and the now-freed chunks of rock hover all around them. Nausea yanks at her gut, but it’s far from unbearable.

“That trick didn’t work the first time, Uraraka!” Bakugou yells, though he’s on his guard as he watches her because he’s not sure what she’s going to do and the thrill of that fact is written all across his face.

She presses her fingers together, releasing the rubble just like she had a year ago, but this time, instead of rushing him in the split second of distraction, she reaches down, ripping up one of the lower layers of concrete. As Bakugou’s hands raise in a great blast that once again shakes the whole arena, Ochako slams her makeshift bat into his side in a comet homerun for the ages and he goes flying out of the ring like human baseball.

But as luck would have it, he’s flying straight at Kirishima and Tetsutetsu, so he screams “Go unbreakable, assholes!” about half a second before he uses a blast to their faces to change his trajectory and send himself right back onto the stage.

His landing is shaky and they’re both breathing hard as they stare each other down across the field of their destruction. Bakugou drags the back of his hand along his mouth, wiping away sweat and spit and blood, and Ochako braces a hand on her knee and swallows the bile that’s rising in her throat.

The veins in Bakugou’s forearms are more pronounced than usual and his fingers twitch in what might be pain. Ochako knows he has a limit to his power output just like she does, but if she’s brought it out of him already then she has a chance at beating him.

Like they’ve shared some secret signal, they start running at each other full tilt and he’s cradling his right arm as he brings a small explosion to his palm, but as he goes in to hit her, she grabs him by that arm, using it as a launching point. She propels herself over his head and activates her Quirk on him to bring him with her, flinging him across the arena again.

She doubles over and pukes on the stage before she can see if he hits outside the ring.

But of course he doesn’t.

She’s not sure how he manages it, but when she straightens back up he’s blasting himself toward her and she doesn’t have time to react before he’s grabbing her arms and using her like an anchor. He slides between her legs and aims another explosion at her feet, forcing her back into the air as he, still weightless, is rocketed upward too.

As he flies at toward where she’s hovering, she lets go of her Quirk’s hold on him, forcing him to choose between pushing his Quirk harder or dropping back to the ground.

She grins when he shifts, aims his explosions downward slightly, and stays airborne.

There’s a technique she’s been working on with Hado, something she hasn’t shown the others yet and even as her stomach turns and her body aches she’s ready to bring it like Bakugou expects.

He flies at her, more awkward in the air without her Quirk to help him, and uses his feet to kick at her as his hands keep him up. Ochako, through a series of rapid releases and reactivations of her Quirk, is able to dodge and block fairly easily, returning her weight to her body long enough to put some power in her attacks and floating herself again before she falls.

She swings her leg around in a kick to his side and on instinct he blocks with his arm, which throws him off balance. Ochako takes the opportunity to slam her elbow into his shoulder. He stutters in the air and concedes some altitude, so she drops toward him, hooking her legs around his waist and digging her fingers into his shirt.

He can’t keep them both up and they plummet, but Bakugou isn’t going down that easy and he uses his Quirk to angle them so Ochako will hit the ground first, pinned under Bakugou’s weight.

That’s a hit she won’t bounce back from, and so at the last second, she floats them both and they bounce against the pavement instead of crashing through it.

She’s reaching her true limit now, and she drops them, letting Bakugou pin her as her vision blurs. He’s waning too, and he’s got a hand pressing into her shoulder more to hold himself up than to keep her down.

“I win,” he says. “Give up.”

“No,” she replies, her voice thick and rough and speaking makes her cough up blood and vomit. He lets her up just enough that she can turn to the side instead of choking, but as soon as she’s done he slams her back down.

She’s got one last try before Aizawa calls the match for good, and with aching fingers she grabs the side of his leg. The tug of her Quirk in her gut sends stars across her vision, but she’s not out yet and Bakugou floats upward again.

“Godsdammit, Uraraka!” he shouts, a painful hiss slipping from his mouth as he uses whatever dregs are left of his own Quirk to blast himself back onto her and he grips her tracksuit to hold himself there.

The last thing she sees before blacking out is Bakugou swaying unsteadily above her.

—

She blinks back into consciousness in a bed in Recovery Girl’s office. Deku, Tsuyu, and Iida are sitting on either side of her and she groans as feeling works its way back into her body. Everything hurts. Iida puts an arm behind her back and helps her sit up as she takes stock—there are bandages around her stomach, shoulder, and both hands and ankles, her hair smells distinctly singed, and her tracksuit is ripped and charred all to pieces.

“Ow.”

Recovery Girl, standing behind the others, chuckles at that. “‘Ow,’ is probably an understatement. I’m surprised you’re already awake.”

“Bakugou…?”

“He stayed conscious,” says Deku, and he’s avoiding Ochako’s eyes. “You did a lot of damage though. He was here getting treated for a long time.”

“He probably should’ve left on crutches,” says Iida, frowning. “But you know how he is.”

“Crutches?” Her brain feels a bit foggy.

“You broke his hip when you hit him with that slab of concrete.”

That clears her mind right up. “I broke his hip? You couldn’t even tell in the way he was fighting!”

“You should’ve seen you,” says Deku, giving her a tentative glance. “You’ve got third degree burns on your stomach and six fractured knuckles and you didn’t miss a beat.”

“Wha—”

“It’s the adrenaline,” Recovery Girl explains, pushing her friends out of the way to check on Ochako’s wounds. “You’ll be fine though, Little to no scarring on your stomach. But I expect you back here after the award ceremony. I want to keep you overnight.”

She walks away and Tsuyu and Iida exchange a look before making excuses and leaving Ochako alone with Deku.

“Uraraka—”

“Wait,” she says, tears welling her eyes as she thinks back on her cruelty during their fight. “Don’t….please. I—I’m so sorry, Deku. I shouldn’t have ever been angry with you for not wanting to hurt me. I guess….I just get so tired of everyone treating me like I can’t hold my own and I took all that frustration out on you and….”

Deku puts a shaky hand on top of hers. “No, Uraraka. I’m the one that’s sorry. I was too focused on my own growth to think about yours. I didn’t consider the fact that you’ve become so much stronger too and I should’ve had more faith in you than I did. I mean...you took on Kacchan and almost won. I...I’m sorry I didn’t treat you like an equal.”

She takes her hand out from under his and punches him lightly in the arm, her fingers protesting at the pressure. “Remember this next year, yeah?”

“Ab-absolutely!” A moment passes in silence before he says, “Uraraka, can I show you something?”

“Sure, what is it?”

He pulls his laptop out of his bag and clicks a couple of times before turning it around so she can see—a video of their fight. He plays it and she can see her own face, grimacing and on the verge of tears as gives and gives and gives to receive nothing in return.

“But,” says Deku, turning it back toward him and clicking a few more things. When he faces it to her again, it’s already playing of video of her fight with Bakugou.

She watches it all the way through, not focusing on her mistakes, or Bakugou’s crazy saves, or anything other than the looks on their faces.

They’re both grinning like maniacs all the way through.

The pure, unadulterated elation in her eyes makes her breath catch in her throat. Because...well...because it makes her look like hero.

“I…” Deku starts, his face turning red as he scrambles for the right words. “I’m glad it came down to the two of you. I’m glad this,” he gestures to the screen, “got to happen. I’m glad that I...that I got to see you the way Kacchan sees you. I’m glad everyone got to see you the way he does.”

Her own face heats up at that, but she can’t deny it—that smile looks good on her.

—

This year, Bakugou isn’t chained to the first place pedestal. He’s standing proudly atop it with Ochako on his right and Deku and Yaoyorozu sharing the third place spot on his left. The self-satisfied smirk he gives Ochako makes her stomach do a backflip because she feels worthy of this spot, even though Deku didn’t give her real fight. She’d held her own against the two-time champion and it feels good.

And even though Bakugou is standing a level above her, it doesn’t feel like he’s looking down at her. When she catches his eye, it’s almost like she’s elevated to stand beside him. She gave him a fight to be proud of and all the way through, he never saw her as less than an equal.

And that feels better than any medal they can give her.

Sooooo this is an experiment on my part. I wanted to write some quick paced, present tense action. And this is what happened. Inspired after reading mockingbirdsoul's Biting the Bullet!

I’m not thrilled with how it turned out and I probably won’t use this style again, but it was super fun to write!

Happy Kacchako Week everyone!

#kacchako week #bakuraka week #kacchako #bakugou x uraraka #katsuki bakugou #uraraka ochako #bnha #my writing

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