From the moment she stepped into U.A. High, Y/n had known exactly three things about Bakugou Katsuki.
One: he was loud.
Two: he was arrogant.
Three: he had absolutely no idea how to mind his own dam business.
Unfortunately, their quirks were perfectly matched for disaster, and Aizawa, in all dry, tired wisdom, seemed to think that pairing them together was some kind of cosmic joke. Today was no exception.
The sun was barely up, and already the training grounds were echoing with the sound of clashing quirks. Smoke curled into palms exploding with raw, unchecked fury. Y/n darted in the opposite direction, dodging a shattered piece of concrete that had come a little too close to her head. "Are you trying to kill me, Bakugou?!" She shouted, flinging herself behind a ruined wall for cover.
"Maybe if you'd stop moving like a damn extra, I wouldn't have to save your ass every five seconds!" he barked back, his voice thunderous, hot, and way too close for comfort. Y/n's fingers curled into a fist. Her quirk buzzed beneath her skin, waiting, hungry.
Oh, how she hated him.
She hated how fast he was. How sharp. How his explosions lit up the sky like fireworks and made her heart skip a beat, not from fear, but from something worse. Admiration. Respect. The one thing she never wanted to give him. "Don't worry," she muttered under her breath, teeth clenched. "I'd rather die than let you save me."
She launched herself from cover, quirks colliding mid-air as the two met in a blast of heat and light. It wasn't pretty. It never was. But it was familiar. Every move she made, he matched it. Every strike she landed, he returned. It was a dance of destruction, and even if she didn't want to admit it, Bakugou was the only one who ever kept up with her tempo.
When the dust settled, they were both panting, bruised, and scowling. "Reckless, as always," he sneered, sweat dripping down his brow. "Infuriating, as usual," she snapped, wiping blood from her lip.
Aizawa's voice crackled through the intercom before either of them could throw another insult. "That's enough. But of you. This was a cooperative exercise, not a damn cage match." Bakugou scoffed and looked away. Y/n didn't miss the way his fists twitched at his sides.
She turned to face him one last time before leaving the arena. "One day," she said, "you'll realize the world doesn't revolve around you, Bakugou." He didn't reply. He just stared at her, eyes burning, mouth set in a line too tight to be smug and too raw to be angry.
For a split second, something unspoken hung between them-something heavy. Then, he turned and walked away, and the moment shattered like glass. Y/n exhaled shakily.
Gosh, she hated him.
And maybe...just maybe, that was the problem.
Y/n was still simmering with irritation, something she refused to name- the time she walked back into the main building. Her uniform clung to her skin, half-soaked with sweat, half-singed from Bakugou's blasts. Her body ached, her ego stung, and she already knew what was waiting for her inside.
"Ohhhhhh, look who made it out alive," Mina sang-songed the second Y/n stepped into the classroom. "Did you two finally kill each other, or just aggressively with explosions again?"
"Shut it, Ashido," Y/n grumbled, flopping into her chair and resting her head against the cool surface of her desk. "You know it's weird how many sparks fly between you and Bakugou-literally and metaphorically," Kaminari added, leaning over her desk like a nosy tabloid reporter. "Some might say...explosive chemistry?"
"Ugh." Y/n swatted at him with a rolled-up worksheet. "If I ever start liking that walking grenade, I give you full permission to blast me off U.A.'s roof." Kirishima chuckled from his seat behind them. "Honestly? I think he fights with you more than anyone else. That has to mean something."
"Yeah," Y/n muttered. "It means he's obsessed with asserting dominance. Probably overcompensating."
"Tch." The sound came from behind her, sharp, unmistakably Bakugou. Y/n turned just in time to see him walk past her desk with a look that could fry steel "Don't flatter yourself, dumbass. The only thing I'm obsessed with is not letting your half-backed tactics get me killed."
She blinked. "Is that your way of saying you care?" Bakugou was left in his tracks. His shoulders tensed just for a second he tossed a glare over his shoulder. "Don't twist my words, moron."
"Oh, so you're saying I do mean something to you, but you're just bad at expressing it. Got it." She smirked. His eye twitched. Kaminari whispered, "I give them three days before one of them snaps and kisses the other mid-battle." Mina sighed dreamily. "Or kills the others. Fifty-fifty."
Y/n rolled her eyes and sank further into her seat. The banter was fun. Too fun. And maybe, deep down, the way Bakugou's voice got rougher when he spoke to her...maybe that did something to her stomach that had nothing to do with nerves. She refused to think about it.
Especially not when he glanced at her again from across the room and didn't look away. The second Bakugou sat down at his desk, and the room practically buzzed with anticipation. "You know," Sero said casually, spinning a pen between his fingers, "this would be a lot easier for all of us if you two just admitted you're into each other."
"Not even if my life depended on it," Y/n said without missing a beat. Bakugou let out a bark of laughter, sharp and humorless. "As if I'd ever waste my time brain instead of blowing everything up like a lunatic?" He glared. "No, I mean someone who can't stay out of my way and acts like every training session is a damn performance."
"It's not a performance, it's called having skill, but I wouldn't expect someone who yells 'DIE' mid-fight to understand that!" Mina raised her hand as if she were hosting a game show. "Who had a 'petty' argument by 9:30 AM on their bingo card?"
"I did," Kaminari said, grinning. "I also had veiled sexual tension masked as death threats, so I'm feeling lucky."
"I swear to gosh, I will end you," Y/n hissed, pointing at him without even looking. Kirishima leaned forward, chin in his hand, watching the chaos unfold like it was his favorite show. "Honestly? This is better than TV." Bakugou slammed his hand on the desk, sparks crackling from his palm. "You extras seriously think I'd fall for her? Keep dreaming."
Y/n stood, face flushed with heat that wasn't entirely from anger. "The only thing you're falling for is your own ego."
Their eyes locked.
Too long.
Too intense.
The classmates went dead silent for a beat until Kaminari whispered, "...They're totally gonna make out." Bakugou stood too. "Say that again, and I'll blow your stupid head off."
"Do it," Y/n said, jabbing a finger into his chest. "At least then I won't have to hear your voice anymore."
"Oh, like your voice is any better? It's a miracle I haven't ruptured an eardrum."
"Then walk away, Explosion Barbie."
"Make me, drama queen." Everyone collectively held their breath.
"Okay, both of you sit down," Aizawa's voice rang out from the doorway like a death knell. He looked beyond exhausted, like he'd been listening for far too long, and regretted every decision that led him here. Y/n froze. Bakugou clenched his jaw.
"Now," Aizawa added, rubbing his temples, "before I erase both of your quirks and your dignity." They both sat. Slowly. Silently. But the heat didn't leave.
Not from Y/n's face, or from the way Bakugou was still glaring at her from across the room like he was imagining fifty different ways to win the next round. And definitely not from the way her pulse jumped every time his eyes lingered too long.
She hated him.
He hated her.
Same Day - Lunch Break
The cafeteria buzzed with noise. It was the third time this week that Kaminari tripped over his own footsteps. Mina patted the seat beside her. "Come on, hot head's not even here yet. You have a full ten minutes of peace before he shows up to ruin the vibe." Y/n gave a dry laugh and stabbed her chopsticks into her rice. "I'm not scared of him."
"No one said you were," Kirishima replied around a mouthful. "But you definitely talk to him more than anyone else does. Including people who actually like him."
"Exactly," Mina said with a wink. "You argue like it's foreplay." Y/n nearly choked on her rice. Before she could report, a familiar blast of static energy announced the arrival of Bakugou Katsuki himself. Tray in hand, scowl firmly in place, he dropped into the empty seat across from Y/n like he'd been assigned to make her life worse.
"Great," Y/n muttered. "Just who I was hoping would ruin my digestion." Bakugou didn't even look up. "Nobody asked you to sit here, idiot."
"Newsflash," she said sweetly, "the world doesn't revolve around you, no matter how many explosions you throw at it."
"You'd be dead without me," he said flatly. "I don't throw explosive win fights. Unlike you, who barely keeps up unless I carry half the damn mission." That one stung. Her smile faltered for a split second, but she covered it up with a scoff. "Carried me? Please. If anything, you're the one holding me back with your caveman tactics."
Bakugou set his tray down harder than necessary. His eyes were flint and fury. "Holding you back? The only reason anyone even notices you in training is because you're always running your damn mouth trying to prove something. If it weren't for me, you'd be just another weakling no one gives a shit about me."
The table went still.
Mina's mouth opened like she wanted to say something, but no words came out. Y/n didn't move. Didn't blink. The words hit harder than a blow to the ribs, and unlike Bakugou's usual jabs, this one felt cruel. Like he meant it. Like he believed it.
Her stomach twisted.
She laughed.
Soft. Bitter. A crack in the armor. "Right. Of course. Because everything I've worked for means nothing unless you say it does." Bakugou didn't respond. Not immediately. He looked at her now, not just glared, but looked. And maybe, just maybe, he realized he'd gone too far. But Bakugou Katsuki didn't apologize. Not out loud.
Y/n stood, her tray barely touched. Her voice didn't shake, but her hands did. "Thanks for the reminder." And then she walked away. Kirishima watched her leave, then looked at Bakugou. "Dude...what the hell?"
"Tch." Bakugou's jaw clenched. "I didn't mean-"
"Then maybe learn how to say anything without sounding like you're trying to start a war," Mina snapped, tone unusually sharp. Bakugou didn't reply. But for the rest of lunch, he didn't touch his food either.
The air outside was cooler than inside, still heavy with the scent of smoke and scorched earth from earlier battles. Y/n sat alone on a crumbling edge of concrete, knees drawn to her chest, staring out at the empty training field, which held answers she couldn't find.
She didn't cry.
She wouldn't cry—not over Bakugou, Katsuki. Not over words, she should've shrugged off like every other insult he'd thrown her way. But the ache in her chest lingered, coiled like something sharp and slow-burning. For the first time since she'd met him, she hadn't had the quiet.
"You always run off when you get your feelings hurt?" Y/n didn't look at him. Bakugou stood a few feet away, arms crossed, trying to look as smug and unaffected as usual. His tone was the same-mocking, rough-but it sounded just a little too forced.
"I mean, come on," he said, stepping closer. "You dish it out all the time, but you can't take it? What, suddenly too fragile to handle the truth?" Still nothing. Her silence hit him harder than a punch. No sarcastic comeback. No muttered insult. Not even a glare.
She just...stared forward, jaw tight, lips pressed together like she was holding in something too heavy to say aloud. He scoffed. "What? Are you mad? You gonna give me the cold shoulder now like some bratty-"
"I'm not mad," she said quietly. The words stopped him cold. Y/n slowly turned her head, finally meeting his gaze-and her expression wasn't angry. It wasn't even smug. It was tired. Disappointed. And that, for some reason, made his chest twist. "I'm just done," she said. "I get it. You don't think I'm good enough. Fine. You've made that perfectly clear."
He opened his mouth to speak, but nothing came out. "You know, I used to think we pushed each other," she went on, voice low but steady. "That maybe the reason you always picked fights with me because you saw me as an equal. Even if we hated each other, at least we respected each other. But today..."
She let the words hang there, then stood up, brushing imaginary dust off her uniform. "...you didn't just insult my quirk or my skills. You insulted me. Like I was nothing." Bkugou looked away, jaw clenched, fists twitching at his sides.
"I'm not going to play this game with you anymore," Y/n added, walking past him without another glance. "Find someone else to throw punches at." And just like that, she was gone again.
This time, Bakugou didn't chase after her. He stood there alone, the sting of her words echoing louder than any argument they'd ever had. She hadn't yelled. She hadn't fought. She hadn't flinched. And somehow, that silence left more bruises than any she'd ever landed.
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Author note-
I'll try to upload a chapter every one to two days.