Kacchaco Short Stories

Love me anyway

A/N -- I used a prompt generator for this bc I got bored 

The prompt is : 

Your characters are neighbors and hold up notes in their windows across from each other to talk all the time and they're both developing huge crushes. 

so very you belong with my- ts mv but wtv 

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Ochaco Uraraka had always been content with her little apartment in the heart of the city. It was her sanctuary, a cozy space filled with everything she loved—her plants that thrived in the sunlight, the books that lined her shelves, and a view of the bustling streets below. But what made it special was the window directly across from hers, where she could see into the apartment of Katsuki Bakugou.

She first noticed him not long after she moved in. He was a striking figure, all sharp angles and intensity, with wild blonde hair and a scowl that seemed permanently etched on his face. He was the kind of person who exuded a quiet, simmering energy, like a storm waiting to unleash itself. Despite his intimidating appearance, Ochaco couldn't help but feel drawn to him.

Their apartments were directly across from each other, with only the narrow street separating them. Ochaco's kitchen window faced his living room, giving her a perfect view of his daily routine. She would often catch glimpses of him reading on the couch, cooking in the kitchen, or simply staring out the window, lost in thought. And every time their eyes met, her heart would skip a beat.

At first, she felt embarrassed whenever she caught herself staring. But Bakugou never seemed to mind—or at least, he never looked annoyed. If anything, his curiosity mirrored her own. There was something in his gaze that made her wonder if he was just as intrigued by her as she was by him.

One evening, after a long day at work, Ochaco found herself once again at her window, watering the plants that lined the sill. The sky was painted with hues of orange and pink, the sun setting over the city. As she glanced across the street, she saw Bakugou standing by his window, looking out at the view. His expression was softer than usual, and for a moment, she imagined what it would be like to talk to him, to really get to know him.

On a whim, she grabbed a piece of paper and a marker. With a racing heart, she wrote a simple message: *Hi.*

She hesitated for a moment, feeling a bit silly. But then she held up the note to the window, her hands trembling slightly. Bakugou's eyes flickered to her, and she saw the surprise in his expression as he read the note. For a split second, she thought he might ignore it, but then he disappeared from view.

Ochaco's heart sank. *Maybe this was a bad idea,* she thought. But before she could dwell on it, he reappeared with a piece of paper in his hand. He held it up to the window, and she had to squint to read the messy scrawl: *What's up?*

A smile broke across her face. She quickly scribbled her reply: *Just got home from work. You?*

Bakugou's response came quickly: *Same. Long day.*

And just like that, a routine began. Every evening, they'd exchange notes across their windows, a silent conversation that became the highlight of Ochaco's day. She learned that Bakugou was a surprisingly good cook and that he had a fondness for spicy food. He told her about his job, which was demanding but fulfilling, and she shared stories about her own work, the challenges she faced, and the small victories that kept her going.

Their notes grew more personal as time passed. Bakugou, who had initially seemed so distant and aloof, began to open up in ways Ochaco hadn't expected. He told her about his childhood, the struggles he'd faced, and the pressure he put on himself to be the best. Ochaco found herself sharing things she hadn't told anyone else—her fears, her dreams, and the loneliness she sometimes felt in the big city.