Chapter Text
It was Saturday afternoon and Kyoka walked through the living area and sat at one of the tables in the dining room joining Bakugou and Mina.
"Midoriya and Ochako are still making out on the couch?" Mina asked Kyoka as she settled in her seat.
"Yeah. Those two got hot and heavy pretty fast," Kyoka replied in her usual monotone.
"Awe, I think it's cute! Annoying, yes, but it's nice they found each other. I bet Midoriya's a great boyfriend, too." Mina said.
Bakugou, who had been deep into studying in his Calculus book, looked up at Mina. "Please," he rasped out, irritated. "I bet he's aggravating, even to Pink Cheeks. Probably forgetful, too. I bet he won't remember their one-month anniversary. I bet he doesn't know what her favorite food is, her favorite color. Bastard probably doesn't even know what stuff she likes to do."
"Like you could do a better job," Kyoka said, her tone low but with an edge of teasing.
"Of course, I'd do a better job!" Bakugou leaned toward Kyoka, his eyes burning with the promise of a challenge. "I'd be ten times the boyfriend Deku is! My girlfriend wouldn't know what fucking hit her she'd be so happy!"
"Okay, Bakugou! Time to put your money where your mouth is! I bet you 8000 yen that Midoriya is a better boyfriend than you," Mina said, brandishing her outstretched hand in Bakugou's face.
Bakugou grabbed Mina's hand and shook it firmly, securing the bet. "You're on Pinky!"
"Of course, that means you actually have to have a girlfriend, Bakugou. This is seriously the easiest 8000 yen I've ever made," Mina said as Bakugou packed his backpack with his books. Kyoka couldn't help the small smirk that crept up on her face.
Bakugou wrangled his heavy backpack over his shoulder. "Ears! Wear something nice, but make sure the shoes are comfortable. I'll be at your dorm at 6:45. Don't make us fucking late. We got reservations." He bounded out of the dining room.
Kyoka felt like all the blood drained from her body. "What in the hell just happened?"
Mina broke down in peals of laughter. "Looks like you have a date tonight!"
“He was totally joking,” Kyoka said, her voice lacking conviction.
“I wouldn’t count on it. I’d suggest you be ready or he’s gonna be dragging you out of your room!”
“Shit, y’know, he’s crazy enough to do that.” Kyoka stood up suddenly and decided to go change. Just in case.
“Wait… are you actually gonna do this?” Mina asked, her face shifting from jovial to concerned for her friend.
“You just said he’d pull me out of my room.”
“Well, yeah, so you could always go hide. Or tell Aizawa-sensei. Or tell the rest of the class and we can all gang up on him.” Mina gave a devilish grin. As much as she was willing to help Kyoka out she did love the drama all this mess created.
“No way I want the rest of the class to know. I’ll just go through with it. But he’s giving me half the money if he wins. And same if you win Mina. My price for the inconvenience.” Kyoka cut her eyes at Mina.
“Sounds fair. And my lips are sealed! I’ll keep it a secret.”
Kyoka rolled her eyes as she left, doubting Mina was capable of keeping her mouth shut.
“You guys go out and you’ll both report back to me after the date. I’ll figure out while you’re gone how I’m going to rank the whole thing!” Mina called after her.
Kyoka groaned as she made her way to the stairs.
As Kyoka lay on her bed she checked her phone and her stomach did a back flip when she realized it was already 6:00 PM. She felt the pained expression she made on her face; it went deep and heavy and she couldn’t help but be annoyed that Bakugou had started this whole mess. Of course, now that she thought about it, Kyoka had been the one to challenge him. She shouldn’t have said anything in the first place.
She went to her closet trying to decide what Bakugou meant by “something nice.” She pulled a neon green knee-length knit dress and a cropped, wide-necked black sweater from their hangers and got dressed. “Comfortable shoes...” Kyoka shrugged and pulled on some black leggings and her black and white Vans. She grabbed a long necklace Momo gave her and switched out the rings she was wearing for bulkier/dressier ones. She had time to kill so she decided to do some homework.
A knock at her door made her look up from her homework. She checked her phone and saw it was 6:30. That’s weird she thought as she stood up and walked over to answer it. Maybe it was Momo. She would have to fill her best friend in on this ridiculous Bakugou dating drama.
“Mo-ahhhh. Nevermind.” Bakugou stood in front of her, his hands in his pockets, looking peeved. Or just normal. Mildly peeved seemed to be Bakugou’s default setting. Bakugou was wearing baggy black cargo pants, a red t-shirt, a black hoodie, and a grey denim jacket over that. If this was “nice” attire, then Kyoka wasn’t too worried about being underdressed. “You’re early.”
“Yeah. I thought maybe you’d be runnin’ late like you normally do for band practice.” The silent peevishness was replaced by a self-satisfied smirk. Kyoka so preferred the former. It was going to be a long night. “I decided to come early to behoove you to move faster.”
“Well, I’m ready. No behooving required,” Kyoka replied in an annoyed monotone. She grabbed her mini leather backpack adorned with many pins and patches and slipped her arms through it as she walked through her doorway.
“It’s gonna be cold tonight. You should grab a jacket. I’m not giving you mine if you get cold,” Bakugou grumbled.
“Ah so chivalrous. I’m so excited for our date,” Kyoka replied unimpressed as she continued walking down the hall.
“Well, I’m not Eijirou, you won’t find me being all chivalrous n’shit.” Bakugou fell in step behind her.
“I rarely get cold so I’ll be fine, I don’t want to have to carry my jacket the whole time.”
“Suit yourself.” They walked in silence down the stairwell and through the stairway door out into the night. As Kyoka walked on the sidewalk outside the dorm, Bakugou stepped beside her.
“So where are we going?” Kyoka asked. She tried to hide her amusement but the idea of Bakugou trying to come up with a spectacular date night to win the bet seemed like the most asinine scenario. No one in their class looked at Bakugou in a romantic light, didn’t think he was capable of dating, or even being datable. It was something he had not shown any interest in, always being more consumed with being the best student and best hero. He never went to parties at the school or other social events held in the neighborhood. He had to be practically drug physically to do things in the dorm with the class. Kyoka knew this firsthand because she had been bold enough a few times to do the physical dragging.
Bakugou even lived in Musutafu, the same city UA was located in, so it was easier for him to be more social in his hometown with friends from school and yet he never seemed to socialize or do anything with anyone outside of school projects or work-study. At this point, half-way through their third-year, Bakugou, who was 5 months away from turning 19, had been written off by his classmates as being aroace or somewhere on the aroace spectrum. And a hermit who seemed to be the most happy when he was left to his own devices in his room.
“It’s a surprise,” he said looking like the cat that swallowed the canary. So be it thought Kyoka. She would give him the benefit of the doubt. He seemed to excel at everything he put his mind to, so he would probably do something adequate. Dinner at a nice restaurant. Movie or some other typical first date activity like mini golf or bowling. Then maybe ice cream on the walk back to the dorm. Bakugou would have crammed before the date so he would succeed, googling things online, or probably asking Kirishima, his best friend, for advice. Kirishima had dated extensively so he would be very helpful if Bakugou went that route.
And even though those things sounded a bit dull to Kyoka, she did consider Bakugou a friend so it wouldn’t be a wasted night. If she could consider their bandmate relationship which mainly consisted of him heckling her and arguing over songs during band practice a friendship. Maybe they could get to know each other a bit better and that sounded fine to Kyoka. Maybe it would make him a bit more agreeable of a bandmate.
They exited the main gate of UA. Since both Kyoka and Bakugou were 18, they both had 11 PM curfew on Saturday nights. Bakugou was notorious for going to bed early so Kyoka was curious to see how late they would be out. They walked in silence for several minutes until they hit the outskirts of the art district. The streets were busy which wasn’t too out of the ordinary for the area. She saw groups of people walking down the street toward what seemed like some public event so when Bakugou took an alley behind a large 3-story building in the opposite direction she thought it was odd.
At the end of the barely lit alley, Bakugou stopped and dug his phone out of his pocket and appeared to text someone. He then replaced his phone and waited. Kyoka quirked an eyebrow at him, but before she could ask him what they were doing, a door opened a few feet from them. A short guy with long black hair in a ponytail nodded at Bakugou and appeared to be holding the door open for them. It led to the large 3 story building which Kyoka realized now seemed familiar but she couldn’t place it in the dark of the night, especially from a dark alley from an unfamiliar side of said building.
“C’mon, Ears,” Bakugou said as he walked through the door. Kyoka followed, feeling a bit nervous and the guy with the ponytail smiled at her. She extended her one earphone jack to wrap around her index finger, something she did when she was nervous. Kyoka used to clink the tips of her earphone jacks together when she was nervous, but she hadn’t done that since the war. She only had one earphone jack now; her body quickly found other ways to express her once signature tells.
The man with the ponytail was wearing a security guard uniform. The three of them walked down a long corridor and as it emptied into a large room, Kyoka realized where they were. The Musutafu City Museum of Art.
“I’ll be in the security office on the second floor if you need me. Whatever door you leave out of, make sure it closes shut tightly behind you.”
“I owe you one, Ohara,” Bakugou said with a grin.
Ohara nodded and walked out of the great room which housed one of the main permanent exhibits of the museum.
Bakugou began walking toward a corridor off the great room and Kyoka followed as they passed several large modern art sculptures. They were simple triangles, each about the size of a compact car, that sat in front of a stark black and white wall painted with simple geometric shapes. Kyoka had been to the museum before with Momo during second year and recognized the permanent collection as they walked by.
“So how likely are we to get in trouble for this?” Kyoka asked nervously as they made their way down a narrow corridor, the area dimly lit so Kyoka could barely make out the art on the walls.
“You that much of a rule follower, huh? I thought you’d be a bit more daring.” Bakugou said, his voice laced with mock disappointment. Kyoka was surprised she was a bit on edge. “Don’t worry Ears. I grew up in this city and Ohara’s a family friend. I have connections. And an easy way to bribe people to get what I want.”
“Your agreeable personality isn’t enough?”
“Funny,” Bakugou said, his voice dripping with sarcasm.
“And what could you possibly offer that would bend people to your will?” Kyoka asked very curious.
“Signed Dynamight merch that can be sold for a lot of yen.”
“Of course,” Kyoka said.
They made their way to an area that opened up to a large exhibit room. ‘Heroes of Musutafu: Finding Hope after Loss.’ It was a new exhibit with pieces created by students at UA and other Musutafu schools, pro-heroes, first responders, and citizens of Musutafu. Art in different media including paintings, sketches, photography, sculpture, film, and music would be on display, all touching on the War that occurred during their second and first year. UA students were going to see it throughout the next week before it was open to the public.
“Let’s get headphones. Over here.” Kyoka followed Bakugou over to a kiosk at the entrance of the exhibit. It had dozens of hooks that held wireless headphones. Bakugou grabbed a pair and handed them to Kyoka and then he took a pair for himself. There was an interactive screen eye level at the kiosk and Bakugou touched several options looking like he was setting up their tour. After a minute, he nodded at Kyoka and waited, as if he wanted her to go first.
She put the headphones on and stepped into the exhibit. Where the rest of the museum had been minimally lit or just plain dark, the “Heroes” exhibit was well lit, Ohara obviously turning on all the lights for them in this area. Kyoka heard the “tour guide” through her headphones welcoming her to the exhibit, sharing its purpose, and then thanking the sponsors who had made it possible. They walked to the closest area to the right past the entrance and Kyoka and Bakugou looked at the pieces of art. Paintings done by children, some expressed nightmarish themes and then as they went down the wall, there were paintings of heroes, of families, of members of the community, bringing a sense of peace after the initial art.
Suddenly music began to play through the headphones, and Kyoka immediately recognized it. It was a piece the Class 3A band had written for the exhibit. She didn’t know how it was going to be utilized for the exhibit when they had submitted the song and two others. And that was if it was even chosen in the first place. She thought maybe they would have a listening station set up with headphones somewhere amongst the pieces of art. The song they chose to use as a backdrop to the tour was an instrumental piece where Kyoka had overdubbed two additional electric guitar recordings over a base part that she and Bakugou had come up with. It had happened unexpectedly one night when she couldn’t sleep, Bakugou had happened to be in the dorm living area when she came down, and then they started talking music. Well arguing about music. But still, she couldn’t think too negatively about it because they had come up with a brilliant song that night, Kyoka on her electric guitar and Bakugou on the drums. It was a bit somber at parts, but it was stirring and hopeful and fit the theme of the exhibit perfectly. In hindsight, it wasn’t hard to get into the mindset. Both Kyoka and Bakugou had been right smack in the middle of that final battle, both had fought All For One that fateful day. And that battle had taken from them both.
Before Kyoka could let her mind wander on things she would rather ignore and not deal with, she looked back at Bakugou shortly after the music started. She saw his face don a surprised expression, and as he met her glance, he quickly looked away and walked toward an interactive screen on a nearby exhibit. She had noticed his cheeks enflame with a dark pink blush before he turned away. He had obviously been surprised by their track’s inclusion on the interactive tour.
Kyoka decided to walk further to a neighboring wall that displayed a work by Musutafu Medical. It was a handmade quilt. It had been designed by the Arts Therapy staff. They had taught long-term patients how to sew and make the squares for the quilt. Each quilt square seemed to have its own unique qualities, yet they all fit together to make one cohesive quilt with beautiful patterns and colors.
She touched the interactive screen and it came to life. The music paused on her headphones and then the audio that went with what was playing on the screen could be heard. She watched a video made of some of the patients creating their quilt squares. Bandaged, bruised, some in casts, they still had smiles on their faces. Many people had been injured in Musutafu due to the destruction of the War.
Kyoka went to the other exhibits, she and Bakugou sometimes crossing paths and he would nod at her, his face serious. There were photos of the destruction of the aftermath, photos of repaired parts of the city, of UA afloat in the sky, of UA students and emergency personnel, and of a Memorial Garden made for the heroes and citizens lost in the battle. There were sculptures, paintings, and sketches by UA students and the other local high schools. There was an area that displayed paintings done by acclaimed artists from Japan that they had created specifically for the exhibit.
One of the last pieces Kyoka saw was at the center of the exhibit. There were three large paintings on a stark white wall. One of the paintings was of the statue of All Might at Camino, damaged and almost unrecognizable after the War. The second painting was of Midoriya after Shigaraki was vanquished, his arm in the air, fist to the sky, the same pose as All Might’s statue in Camino. The third painting was of Bakugou. Lying on the ground after All For One had been defeated. Bakugou had collapsed due to exhaustion and injury. But his arm was raised above him in the air, fist clenched, before he had passed out. The same victory pose as All Might and Midoriya.
One thing not visible in the painting from the angle he was lying, was Bakugou’s mangled right arm. It had been damaged beyond repair in that battle. He had a prosthetic now. Bakugou, to no one’s surprise, had returned from the hospital and acted like nothing was different. He continued his hero training undeterred, but he threw himself into training even more intensely to make up for the deficit he now had with his quirk. And even though his temper had improved drastically since first year which made him a much better friend, he had withdrawn from the class even more. He chose to spend most of his free time training and at the Support Class Lab figuring out better ways to implement his right-hand support gauntlet, which was no longer fueled by his own hand and quirk.
Bakugou had avoided the center exhibit like the plague. Kyoka saw it had an interactive screen but she didn’t activate it. It somehow seemed too intrusive to do so with Bakugou there. She honestly thought she would have felt the same way even if he had not been present. The war still felt too raw, too recent. She felt something catch in her throat, so she turned and walked away before she could let herself be still with those emotions for too long. It was how she had been coping with it. How she had been getting by.
Kyoka had finished looking at all the pieces and showcases so she walked back toward the entrance of the exhibit. She put her headphones back on a hook at the kiosk and turned to find Bakugou waiting for her. Before she had a chance to thank Bakugou for the sneak peek he grabbed her hand and quickly walked through the open archway into another exhibit. “We hafta hurry for the next part,” he said as he kept the quick pace and Kyoka almost had to jog to keep up since his legs were a lot longer than hers. The sudden skin-to-skin contact of their held hands sent a shiver up Kyoka’s arm and down her spine and she hoped he didn’t notice her hand tremble for a second. She wasn’t a touchy-feely person and neither was Bakugou so the whole thing was weird and unexpected. His hand was hot and sweaty but it somehow wasn’t unpleasant.
He didn’t let go as they walked through the 18th-century glass painting exhibit.
At the corner of the large room was a door leading to the stairway. They went up the stairs, Kyoka becoming out of breath as Bakugou pulled her behind him up three flights. As they went through the exit door at the top, Kyoka’s ears were met by the familiar sound of an electric guitar having a sound check. The door had spit them out on the roof of the museum. As Bakugou pulled her to the far edge of the roof, she saw a crowd of around 200 people below in the large, spacious front grounds of the Museum. An outdoor concert she didn’t even know about in Musutafu. A temporary stage was set up directly across from them down the far end of the open space below.
“That’s Landfill Indie!” Kyoka said, her voice ringing with excitement which was a rarity for her, as she looked onstage at the performers. Landfill Indie was an up-and-coming band out of Tokyo. “How did I not hear about this?”
She looked up at Bakugou who donned a smug expression. “They announced it a few weeks ago. Surprised you didn’t hear about it. It’s a rain check they rescheduled from the summer.”
Kyoka loved live music and normally kept on top of anyone she was even just remotely interested in hearing that came to play in Musutafu. But she had been busy with their plans for the school festival that was coming up in two weeks. She had planned a set for the Class 3A band to play, original songs and some covers, that she and the other 4 bandmates had been practicing. Her gaze alighted on the stage, taking in the instruments and the band members soundlessly talking to one another as they tuned up. A buzz of excitement could be felt from the crowd below. Kyoka breathed in the usual music festival smells of food truck fare, people, and cigarette and vape smoke.
“Best part about this is we don’t have to be around any extras.” Bakugou’s loud voice carried easily over the loud hum of the crowd underneath them. “We got the best seats on this roof ledge. All to ourselves.” She turned her head, looked up at Bakugou, and before she could stop herself, she grinned widely at him, it felt so foreign on her usually stony face. “They’re about to start playing. I’m gonna fetch us some food.” His smile had shifted from the smug smirk he had been wearing earlier. It was an expression she had never seen him wear before. His face was relaxed, his lips softly pulled into a smile. Instead of his brows having a sort of aggressive or challenging slant to them, they framed his eyes in such a way that made him look strangely calm, that revealed something in his eyes that made Kyoka hold her breath and suddenly become very aware they were still holding hands.
A couple of seconds passed but they felt uncomfortably much longer than that. Before Kyoka had the sense to tell her hand to let go of Bakugou’s hand, he let go. “Stay here, I’ll be back.” He turned away jogging toward the far end of the roof and before Kyoka could ask him if he needed any help, he hopped off the roof, Kyoka assuming he was going down an emergency stairway or that he was using his quirk to stay afloat. Kyoka sat on the ledge and a few moments later, the band began the first song, the crowd below cheering wildly.
It was one of their more popular songs that had gotten some radio play locally. Before the first song ended, Bakugou sat next to her, his arms filled with food and drink. He handed her a covered hot beverage and she felt her body pulse with pleasure when the smell of coffee hit her nose. “Seriously coffee? You’re a god among men!” she said loudly so he could hear her over the music. Kyoka may have had a teeny tiny coffee addiction.
He looked at her, a grin flashed on his face for a second, and then it was replaced by a smirk. “That’s the nicest thing you’ve ever said to me. Well maybe the only nice thing you’ve ever said to me,” he yelled back to her over the music as he sat next to her.
Kyoka rolled her eyes. Bakugou handed her a paper bowl filled with something she couldn’t recognize if someone paid her to. She could make out what looked like some kind of shredded meat, rice, and maybe pickled vegetables. The first song ended, and Kyoka took the opportunity to speak quickly while the crowd cheered before they started the next song. “What the hell is this?” Kyoka asked Bakugou as she glanced down at the mystery food in the bowl.
“Like it fucking matters. It’s covered in spicy mayo and eel sauce. That’s the only shit you should be worried about.” Kyoka did like her sauces. She glanced at Bakugou’s bowl and it had the same mystery food but without the sauces. Fusion foods were typical food truck fare. From what she could tell it looked like it could be some mishmash of Japanese, Hawaiian, and Tex-Mex.
“Thank you,” she said, but the next song had started and ate up her appreciative words.
The set had been amazing. Bakugou seemed to enjoy himself as much as Kyoka had. She wasn’t sure how much he really liked the band, but they had a phenomenal drummer so she thought he at least appreciated that aspect. As the band wrapped up the last song, Kyoka was buzzing with energy, feeding off the high of live music, and the vibes of excitement exuding from the crowd.
They both stood up, talking about the song the band had closed with, which neither of them had heard before. Kyoka followed Bakugou, walking across the roof of the museum as they chatted (well argued) about the changing time signature in the last song (Kyoka told Bakugou there had not been one, but he insisted). Bakugou stood on the edge of the roofline and Kyoka joined him. As she looked past the ledge, she didn’t see emergency stairs or any other way to get down. “You took us to the wrong side there’s no-“ Before Kyoka could finish her sentence, Bakugou grabbed Kyoka by the waist and hefted her over his right shoulder. “What the hell are you doing?!?” she blurted out.
She squirmed, her face enflamed with embarrassment and anger, and when she heard Bakugou cackle she realized what he was about to do, and her chest filled with sickening dread that spread to the rest of her body like a cold draft. Before she could yell at him to stop, he jumped off the roof and Kyoka felt like her stomach had been extricated from her body and all she could do was scream in terror. As gravity did its thing, she felt resistance to their falling and heard faint explosions from Bakugou’s left hand slowing their descent. When Bakugou hit the ground, more gently than she expected, she thrashed on his shoulder until he grabbed her and flipped her around in front of him. She felt her feet on the ground, but she was disoriented. He held on to her shoulders until she seemed to be stable on her legs.
As her equilibrium righted itself, she turned to Bakugou and smacked him on the shoulder with an open hand.
“What the fuck?!?” he bellowed at her, but he had a smile on his face still and he looked like he could break out in raucous laughter any second.
“You could have dropped me! Are you crazy?!?”
Bakugou looked at her like she was an idiot. “Me drop you? Please. You don’t think I’m capable of holding on to you for two seconds? It’s not like you even weigh anything, Pixie.”
Kyoka made a face at the nickname, she couldn’t even describe what kind of face it was, but she felt her features wince up and the flush she was already experiencing from their free fall deepened in intensity. Bakugou grinned at her, wide and unabashedly, and for some reason that look made her insides feel even more discombobulated, so she turned away from him and started walking down the sidewalk.
“Wrong way,” Bakugou said his voice ringing with smug satisfaction. Kyoka stood still for several seconds until she felt the heat of the flush leave her and felt the expression on her face was tempered; she needed to calm down. Funny how calm was usually so easy for her, definitely her default: calm and chill and zen. But Bakugou seemed to have a way of pushing her out of her default setting. She turned toward Bakugou and his face had a less irritating smile on it now, but it was still very much a self-inflated Bakugou smile.
He walked in the opposite direction on the sidewalk and Kyoka joined him. “So where to now?” she asked him, her voice her normal, low monotone, her mood stabilizing finally.
“It’s a surprise,” Bakugou replied, his voice less sly than before.
Kyoka sighed. “I hate surprises.”
“You won’t hate this one. I promise. But it’s a bit of a walk. Why I told you to wear comfortable shoes. Don’t know why in the hell you wore fucking Vans.” He snickered and Kyoka bit her bottom lip to keep from saying something salty in response.
After a few seconds, finding the calm inside her again, she thought it was safe for her to proceed. “These are fine, definitely comfortable enough to wear around town walking.” Kyoka glanced at Bakugou’s feet. “You’re one to talk. You’re wearing combat boots.”
“They’re padded.”
“I have padded ones, they’re still not as comfortable as these.” Kyoka motioned at her shoes.
“Damn you just want to fucking argue about everything,” Bakugou said sounding a bit annoyed.
“You of all people are seriously going to say that to me?” Bakugou had to be on the top ten list of the most argumentative people on the planet.
Kyoka couldn’t help but shiver suddenly. The temperature had dropped substantially since they had left UA and she was cold. Bakugou had his jacket on unzipped and she saw he had his hoodie wrapped around his waist under the jacket. He had shed the one layer during the concert. Kyoka wasn’t about to ask him if she could wear it; he would hold that over her head the rest of the “date” since he had warned her to bring her own jacket.
She spotted her saving grace less than a block away, Volo Coffee and Tea. She grabbed Bakugou’s hand, surprised it was so warm considering how cold it was and that he wasn’t wearing gloves, and pulled him behind her. As they walked through the door of the shop, Bakugou made a ‘Tch’ sound.
She looked back at him and smiled. “Coffee or Tea? My treat.”
Bakugou shook his head. “I don’t drink either. I’ll take a water though.”
Kyoka walked up to the counter and asked for a hot café-au-lait with sugar to go and Bakugou asked for a bottle of water. They were still holding hands and Kyoka felt a warmth starting at their clasped hands that ran through the rest of her body. She became very self-conscious suddenly and let go. Bakugou kept holding her hand for two more beats before he let go.
Before Kyoka could pay, Bakugou gave a card to the cashier and gave Kyoka a smug expression, like he had won something and she had lost. Kyoka rolled her eyes at him and then realized she had been rolling her eyes an awful lot that night. It was kind of hard not to around him; he could really get under her skin at times.
As they exited the shop, Kyoka sipped from her coffee contentedly, the to-go cup warming up her chilled hands and the warm beverage heating her up from the inside out. “You drink a lot of coffee. How the hell do you sleep at night?” Bakugou commented.
Kyoka shrugged. “I go right to sleep around midnight with no issues.”
Bakugou scoffed. “Midnight… no wonder you’re barely on time to class.”
“Okay Grandpa,” Kyoka said, not having to explain herself. Everyone knew Bakugou went to bed at 8:30 in the evening and was one of the first students up in the morning before the sun rose, like an octogenarian. Before she could comment on how she was keeping him up way past his bedtime, she felt something around her shoulders and noticed now that Bakugou had draped his jacket around her. Kyoka glanced at him and saw him pull his hoodie on over his head and push his arms through the garment.
The jacket was very warm, heated up by Bakugou’s body heat. Kyoka couldn’t help to notice the faint scent that exuded from the jacket; it was sweet and smoky and she couldn’t help her cheeks heat up and then she hated herself for that reaction. What was wrong with her?
“I thought you wouldn’t be doing any of the ‘chivalry shit,’” Kyoka said, the words coming out a bit more aggressive than she meant as if she was trying to cancel out the weird reaction she had moments before.
“If it keeps you from getting another coffee in the next 4 blocks, I call it an act of mercy, not chivalry. You’ll never fall asleep tonight if you keep drinking that shit.”
Kyoka pursed her lips not saying anything. Bakugou figured out the coffee stop was mainly to warm her up. That seemed to be oddly observant of him. He was trying really hard with the boyfriend points. Anything to beat Midoriya it seemed.
They walked for a couple of minutes in silence which started to become awkward for Kyoka. Probably not to Bakugou though. He probably didn’t mind being left to his own devices.
“So I was thinking of maybe covering the last song of the set we heard tonight. For the school festival. What d’ya think?” Kyoka asked.
“Yeah, I liked it. In fact, we can play that one instead of the song about the illiterate girl. I fucking hate that song.”
“Illiterate girl?” Kyoka thought through the seven songs they had been practicing for their set the last month and had no idea what he was talking about. “Which one?”
“Seriously? Fuck…” He slowed his pace and looked down at his feet but his gaze wasn’t focused, like he was running the song in his mind. After about ten seconds he looked up at her. “Okay… it’s the one where you repeat, ‘she can’t read, she can’t read, she’s bad’ at like two different parts."
Kyoka couldn’t help but laugh, it was a strange noise to her own ears. She realized she couldn’t remember the last time she had laughed loudly like that. It seemed to come from someplace deep inside her, not her usually half-hearted chuckles. “It’s ‘she can read.’” Kyoka said with a grin.
“Well fuck me then. Fine, it’s the song about the literate girl then. Damn. Like anyone can seriously tell. That post-punk revival shit you like seriously has all the worst singers. I can never understand what the fuck they're saying.”
Kyoka dropped her jaw and then before she could stop herself she leaned into Bakugou playfully. “Is my singing really that bad?” She didn’t even mind the insult, Bakugou’s whole spiel reminded her of their band practices where they often quarreled but for some reason, this felt a little different. It felt pleasantly familiar but somehow even better.
“No. That’s what I’m saying. Even with your beautiful voice, you can’t make those songs sound good.”
“Wow,” Kyoka said in a dull deadpan, but she couldn’t keep the edges of her mouth from turning up a tiny bit. “Is that supposed to be a compliment? If so, you seriously suck at it. No boyfriend points for you.”
He suddenly put an arm around the back of her shoulders and gently pulled her closer to him, her shoulder lightly pressed against his side. “I said you had a beautiful voice. Explain to me how that’s not a compliment.” Kyoka felt her heart beat wildly in her chest at their suddenly close proximity. The faint scent she had briefly experienced when the jacket had been draped on her, now flooded around her, enveloping her along with Bakugou’s comforting warmth. She swallowed heavily.
Kyoka had to think really hard back to what Bakugou had said since the last few seconds she had been extremely distracted.
“You said I didn’t sound good in the same breath.” As they walked near a trash bin, Kyoka reached and disposed of her empty coffee cup.
“It’s just impossible with those bands. They all suck. The Storks. The International Criminal Police Organization. The Nope Nope Nopes. Radio on the TV. All of them are the fucking worst.”
Kyoka laughed and dared to look up at Bakugou’s face. She noticed how bright red his cheeks were, it was probably the chilly weather doing that. He was grinning wide, a mischievous pull to his lips that he couldn’t help to exude when he smiled like that. But he didn’t look her in the eye. His smile lessened as she stared at him, and then he took in a deep breath from his nose and let it out of his mouth. She felt his chest move against her shoulder with the motion.
She looked away from him, shaking her head. “’The Storks?’” Kyoka said and laughed softly again. She wasn’t surprised her cheeks felt sore. Bakugou had said the names of a few of the bands she liked, but all so purposefully wrong. It was an incredibly silly, bordering on dorky, thing to do. But kind of cute. Kyoka felt the skin on the back of her neck prickle even though she was perfectly warm now and then the sensation sent a surge of pleasure down her spine.
Kyoka couldn’t help but give in to the silliness now. It was wild that Bakugou or even she could be silly ever but here they were. She started to sing the ‘illiterate girl’ song. It would now always be known to her as the ‘illiterate girl’ song. “I wish I could eat the salt off, Of your lost faded lips...”
“Oh hell no,” Bakugou said and then covered her mouth with his hand to muffle her singing. She couldn’t help but softly laugh again. His fingers were soft and warm and she blushed at the physical contact. “You can shut your ‘lost faded lips,’” Bakugou said in a low grumble but there was a hint of good humor in it. He lowered his hand and as she looked up at him, he narrowed his eyes at her as if he was daring her to start back up.
She was giddy. Kyoka tried to go back in her memories and find if she had ever felt giddy before and if she had, she couldn’t remember. “I suppose if you had it your way, we’d just play Math Rock and then I’d never get a chance to sing.”
“Some of it has vocals,” he said.
“Not any of the songs you sent me.”
“Well, maybe you should make some up then. I’m sure whatever you could come up with would be better than any shit ‘Spork’ could come up with.”
“You’re ridiculous. And it’s ‘Spoon,’” Kyoka said with a smirk.
A sound coming from where they were pressed together made them both stop walking in time to see a piece of folded paper fall out of Bakugou’s hoodie pocket. Before he could grab it, Kyoka snatched it up, and then ran from him, being fueled by their recent interactions with a vigor she normally didn’t have.
“Give that back!” he bellowed as she kept running away from him.
She opened the paper and quickly read it. It was a spreadsheet with Tasks in the first column. Her eyes scanned the list of tasks and the smile dropped from her face. “’Handholding’, ‘paying for stuff,’ ‘getting food at festival,’ ‘giving jacket if she gets cold,’ ‘compliments,’ ‘talk about music,’ ‘walk on the outside of her.’ So all of that was just stuff on a checklist? That whole no chivalry shit was just teasing? You were always going to give me your jacket. You even have ‘tease her’ and ‘playful banter’ on this list.”
“Yeah, what of it?” He tried to grab the list but she kept it from his reach and kept walking away from him, reading it.
“There’s a Kyoka column with ‘likes coffee, favorite color purple, loves condiments/sauces on everything, likes puzzles, gets cold easily but never brings her jacket, likes cats and dogs, vinyl…” It was a surprisingly long list. Her eyes scanned further down. “There’s even a list of all the music genres I like in order of my favorite to least favorite. How’d you find this stuff out? Momo?”
“None of your fucking business.” His face was pissed now, and he lurched forward and grabbed the list out of her hands.
“So, it could have been anyone… like if Momo had been sitting there instead of me when Mina made the bet. If Momo had made the comment egging you on instead of me. You would have taken her out?”
“It would have been different stuff with her. But yeah. I would have made a list and taken her out.” He didn’t look pissed anymore, just mildly annoyed. His tried-and-true default.
Kyoka sighed heavily and crossed her arms in front of her. She couldn’t extricate the scowl on her face if her life depended on it. Her feelings were hurt, it felt like all the magic Bakugou had cast that night, because she felt it had been a magical night, had suddenly dissipated and she was left with the caustic misanthrope from Class 3A who didn’t want to be around anyone.
And then she felt absolutely ridiculous she was upset because it wasn’t a real date. Why in the world would she be offended that he did what he did? She would have never gone on a REAL date with Bakugou in the first place! Why did she feel annoyed though?
He took in her whole pissed demeanor Kyoka knew she was exuding and he groaned with annoyance. “What the hell, Kyoka? You knew this was a bet. Don’t be so fucking sulky and offended. Y’know it doesn't make the shit I did tonight any less…thoughtful. Did Pikachu put as much thought into the dates he went on with you when you dated at the start of second year? And then Mindfuck at the beginning of third year? I bet neither of them did half the things I did, and I’m not even fucking done yet tonight.”
Bakugou was right, but Kyoka couldn’t help but feel slighted for some reason. Why was she being this way? She couldn’t shake being pissed off by his data cheat sheet reveal and how he would have taken Momo out for the bet if she had been sitting at the table with Mina instead. She looked up at him and felt the hard line of her mouth as she grimaced; she immediately saw his face get even more defensive.
“You got 10 seconds to say something nice, or I’ll tell Mina I had a bad time,” Kyoka said.
Bakugou closed the distance between them lightning fast, his face red and livid, his eyes scorching with the heat of agitation. He glared down at her, his words loud and ringing in her ears due to his proximity. “And you’d be telling her a fucking lie.”
“No, I wouldn’t lie. I’d tell her it was the best date imaginable until you completely wrecked it in the end by being an ass.” Kyoka wasn’t afraid of him. He was all bark and no bite anyhow. Something changed in his fighting stance though as she spoke. It was subtle but Kyoka definitely could tell something was different.
“Fine!” he rasped out like a nasty curse. “I’ll say something so nice, you’ll be shocked it came from my mouth.”
“10 seconds starting now.”
He walked away from her and then paced a bit for several seconds like he was gathering his thoughts. “You’re always busting my balls like at band practice…” he muttered under his breath.
Kyoka couldn’t help but stare at him coolly, her face devoid of all emotion. “5 seconds…”
Bakugou stopped in his tracks and looked over at her, crossing his arms over his chest. “Being with you tonight, it's killing two birds with one stone. I get to win the bet, and I get to hang out with you. You’re one of the few people who I don’t mind being around. There? Is that fucking nice enough, your highness?”
“It was actually until the last part.”
Bakugou growled. “You get cold and metal as punishment, Pixie.” He grabbed her hand with his right hand and Kyoka braced herself for it to be cold, but it wasn’t as bad as she thought it was going to be. The metal of the prosthetic was surprisingly smooth and even though she knew he had no feeling in his hand, his grip was still gentle but sure. And he had called her ‘Pixie’ again. Kyoka wanted to absolutely hate it, but instead, she felt a strange sensation that made her scalp feel tingly and the hair on the back of her neck stand up on end. She didn’t know what that was all about, so she decided to ignore it.
They continued their walk toward who knows where since it was a ‘surprise.’
Things still felt tense after their little contentious back and forth and after a minute, Bakugou dropped her hand. For a second Kyoka wondered if he had finally had enough for the night and he was going to use his quirk and blast away, leaving her to fend for herself in downtown Musutafu. But instead, he draped his arm around her and pulled her in again. As much as Kyoka was a bit annoyed still, she couldn’t help but lean into him as they walked.
The thought entered her mind that there had not been anything about ‘draping an arm around the back of her shoulders’ or ‘holding her close when we walk’ on Bakugou’s list. And she couldn’t help the feeling of a million butterflies taking flight in her stomach at the thought, no matter how she tried to stop it. They continued on to the secret destination and Kyoka knew whatever it was, she was probably going to like it because Bakugou had not hit a sour note with what he had planned thus far that night.