I Wanna Be With You.

One Shot

It's after their match in the first sports festival that he thinks those five words.

The dust is clearing, the crowd is on the edge of their seats, and he's still aching for a fight when he faintly hears Midnight call out to the crowd that the Round Faced girl had been eliminated.

He watches as they load her onto the stretcher, her limp arms and sagging shoulders flopping around loosely as they take her to recovery girl, and even through the booming of the crowd's disapproval, the words ring clear in his mind.

'I wanna be with you.'

Unmistakably clear.

Disgustingly real.

Undeniably wrong.

The thought startled him, its abrupt and sudden appearance in his ocean of thoughts standing out far too clearly, and with one last glance at her almost- almost angelic face, he turned around with a slightly aggravated huff and stomped off the stage to hopefully forget about it.

He didn't want to be with her. He wanted to fight her, to drive her into the ground with his fists and earn the win he deserved.

But for now he would walk away, and tried not to think about the fire in her eyes.

The next time he thinks it, is during their summer training.

He's told her that she's the most capable of the group to get a good look at the hostages, and even though she had some doubts about her quirk's capabilities, she agreed to floating to the top and looking through the window to assess the situation.

Her cheeks are puffed out, and her knees are pulled to her chest in this adorable makeshift ball, and the sight of her all squishy and round and fluffy pulls forth the foreign yet familiar feeling in his chest.

'I wanna be with you.' He thinks, freezing for a moment and then shaking his head.

It's probably nothing.

These were intrusive thoughts. Random, unrelated, unconnected occurrences that had nothing to do with the way her adorably pink cheeks may squish under his touch if he ever had the chance to hold them in his hands.

'It's probably nothing.'

It's not nothing.

He thought it was nothing for a while. Or at least, that's what he told himself.

But he didn't think that anymore.

Not after this incident.

He had come across her in the kitchen after everyone had moved into the dorms and students were still getting settled in. He was having trouble sleeping for reasons he'd rather not get into, and he'd only come down for a glass of water. Just one glass of water, and then he'd be on his not-so-merry way.

But that's when he saw her.

There she was, baggy, worn down sweatshirt and gym shorts with a pair of dingy old headphones from about ten years ago plugged into her ears as she did a silly little dance in front of the microwave while using a wooden spoon as a microphone.

And once he took it all in, the way her hair bobbed with her goofy jumping and dancing, and the way her lips mouthed the words to her silent song, Katsuki knew he was done for.

She was probably making something to eat, no matter how strange it may be to do so at- what, 3:43 in the morning? And she probably didn't think anyone would see her.

She looked stupid.

Stupid and cute.

Stupidly cute.