Bakugou searched around the playground, but he couldn't find her. She wasn't anywhere to be found. "Crybaby?" He looked around, confusion on his face as this was the first night where she was nowhere to be found. Turning around to just walk home, he heard a ruffling from the trees and saw her head pop down from one.
"Looking for me?" She asked. "The fuck? Why are you up there?" Bakugou stood below the tree as she climbed down. "Change of scenery," she shrugged, waking down the sidewalk, "also, I had to get a high view." Bakugou followed her without hesitation. "How come? Where are we going?"
She smiled, taking his hand, but he drew back at her touch. Laughing awkwardly, her voice squeaked with a question. "You hungry?" Bakugou's eyebrows creased. "What?" "My favorite ramen place is open. Are you hungry?" She was walking fast and it took him a bit to notice how he was lagging behind.
"You're fucking crazy," he mumbled, joining her side. "How so?" "You were just gonna walk the streets by yourself? You're still quirkless whether you won against me or not." "How pompous of you," she laughed, "Do you think you are a factor in all my decisions?" Warmth crept up his neck. "N-no! But it's still stupid to walk by yourself!"
She poked at his shoulder. "And what would you do, ground zero? Fight for me? You have a reputation to uphold, I don't." Bakugou gritted his teeth, slapping her hand away. "So what? As if a reputation is the only thing that can be harmed in a fight." "Are you implying that I couldn't defend myself?" She stopped walking when she realized Bakugou was no longer at her side. He had halted because of her question.
"Yes," he answered, "someone willing to harm you will do it no matter how good you are at holding people down." Her gaze went down to the ground as she heard his footsteps draw closer. "I know you get in fights a lot. I can tell. You obviously can't defend yourself." "Even if I beat you?" She chuckled. "Yes. Defending yourself during a fight and being able to fight against your opponent are two different things."
She met his dark red eyes, her face obviously confused. "You're able to fight me," he said, taking her arm and lifting her sleeve, "but you are not able to defend yourself." The bruises coloring her skin were turning yellow. "You still let people walk over you," he said, pressing her thumb against a purple patch, making her wince.
"If a criminal were to fight me, I probably would give up," she pushed his chest to make him step back, "so you're probably right." She walked away from him again, so he took his time in joining her. "You would hate me in other circumstances," she joked with him, "but you're being casual with me because I've seen you at your weakest." "Why do you say that?" "I'm a quirkless person who gives up during fights because I'm afraid. I hold back and I don't try."
Light chatter from the ramen stand found its way to their ears. "Maybe," he mumbled, "but I'm glad this is our circumstance."
She paid for their meals and the two sat down at an outside table, attempting to eat in silence. Bakugou, however, had felt a need to break it. "Hey," he sighed, "I should probably thank you." "What for?" He rolled his eyes, "for crying all over you yesterday. Thanks for not being too much of a bitch about it." Bakugou watched her try not to laugh. "I know. Pretty cool of me, considering how bitchy you were about me crying."
He growled, trying to eat instead of picking another fight. "But, you are welcome," she softly told him, "no one should have to cry alone." Bakugou set down his chopsticks. "Do you always cry alone?" She chewed for a bit before nodding slowly. "Yeah," she said, "I've always been alone."
The two began their walk back once they were done, the awkwardness between them not seeming to leave. Bakugou's mind was racing with questions after he had finally acknowledged her bruises. She hadn't corrected him, so he assumed his surmise about her getting into fights often was correct. "Hey, crybaby," he spoke, making her eyes shift over to him, "who do you usually fight with?" "That depends what to classify as a fight. I'd hardly label my altercations as fights if that's what you mean."
He slapped at her arm. "I just wanna know where those come from. Stop being fucking mysterious." She thought about it for a moment, reflecting on the true reason for her marked up her skin. "I'm—good—at defending others. That's all I seem to do," she squeezed her hands. "There's not a lot of quirkless kids at my school. Those that are, tend to keep out of trouble, besides me. There's kids who believe they're better than people and they aren't afraid to show it. They like to overpower, dominate, and—bully—I guess."
They turned the corner. "I'm always finding myself defending people who don't want anything to do with me. I always find myself pushed against the ground, spit upon, laughed at, whatever. I don't fight back, because I endure the pain for the person who doesn't deserve it." The two stopped in front of the playground. "You almost sound heroic," Bakugou told her, "but you should value yourself more."
He lied his hand upon her shoulder. "Defending others doesn't mean you let go of your worth," his stern eyes bore into hers, "it means you find it."
