A/N:This was a part of another fic that I was writing and I ended up taking this section out but I thought it was much too fun to completely delete it. I think this was good practice at writing comedy and overall, it was a lot of fun to write! Please read and review!

Summary: The girls of Class 1-A stage a late-night intervention when they realize that Ochako seems to have caught feelings for a certain self-proclaimed "King of Explodo-Kills" – "She remembers that day; how she had drawn closer to him and the way her heart had whispered to her — "It's him. It will always be him." — and she had silently agreed." [kacchako][one-shot/drabble]

Disclaimer: I do not own Boku no Hero Academia, Kohei Horikoshi does.

"All right!" Mina claps her hands together and beams a wide smile to the circle of five girls surrounding her. "Tonight's "save-our-darling-Ochako-from-Bakugou's-evil-clutches" meeting is about to begin!"

Jirou sighs unenthusiastically as Ochako stiffens in her seat. Putting the questionable name aside, it was hard for Ochako to believe that Mina had called all of the class 1-A girls down to the dorm's common space to discuss her love life again. And yet here they were. In the common space. Discussing her love life. Again.

Her head drops as she lets out a sigh.

Tsuyu ribbits and places a finger to her chin. "Isn't the name a bit long?"

"Perhaps try for a more succinct title?" Momo suggests eagerly but frowns as Mina waves her off.

"The name stays and anyway! We have more important matters to discuss!"

Mina leaps toward Ochako, her bright yellow pupils shimmering brightly with curiosity as she leans on the armrests of the chair and corners Ochako into her seat. "So we noticed you were hanging out with Bakugou a lotrecently!"

Ochako turns her gaze to the side to evade Mina's questioning gaze. "I-I don't know what you're talking about," she chuckles nervously and Mina's lips curve upward in amusement. "Oh, you don't?"

Ochako feels her frantic heart leap into her throat.

"H-he's," her face quickly turns bright red in embarrassment, "he's just helping me study!"

"Is that really all it is, hm?" Mina wiggles her eyebrows, the disbelief clearly reflecting in the onyx pools of her eyes, "why do I feel like you're not telling us the whole truth? Then I guess the fact that you two hang out every day after school now, study together at the library, and even spend time down here after hours means nothing, huh?" And then she gasps, suspicion clouding in the midnight sea of her eyes.

"Have you guys been to each other's rooms?" She leans closer, the red of her growing blush stark against her pink skin, "have you guys had—!"

"Ashido-san!" Momo interrupts, her eyes wide and cheeks red at the sudden, dangerous turn of the conversation. Ochako slumps further into her seat, confident that her soul was on the brink of escaping her body. Mina coughs and backs away.

"Anyway," Mina continues, "the point is you've gotta set the record straight for us!"

"She doesn't have to tell us anything if she's not comfortable," Tsuyu ribbits thoughtfully from the side and Ochako smiles in tired relief; grateful for her friend's backup. But the comment is not enough to stave Mina's furious curiosity. She crosses her arms with a huff and her cheeks balloon as she pouts. "Are you guys telling me you're ok with our innocent, little Ochako-chan hanging out that homicidal maniac?"

Homicidal maniac? Ochako wasn't aware that Mina's opinion of Bakugou was so dirt poor. Sure, she knew he was arrogant, manner-less, egotistical, and uncooperative and that he had a few (or…a lot of…) violent tendencies but she had come to realize that there was much more to him. But a tense silence follows Mina's question as the girls shift awkwardly and look away, clearly in agreement with Mina but reluctant to say so out loud, and as Ochako looks around she begins to suspect that her opinion may be in the minority.

"See?" The silence is validation enough as Mina presses on, "we're just worried about you. No one here wants you going out with some guy whose idea of a good time is, and I quote, 'massacre'!"

"He actually said that?" Jirou snorts amusedly and Mina nods. Hagakure's silhouette shudders from the side but Ochako frowns.

"It's really not like that, guys," she counters softly, twiddling her fingers, "and besides, Bakugou-kun's not as bad as you guys think."

The girls share a look of silent indignation, clearly unconvinced that the self-proclaimed "king of explodo-kills", walking human time bomb, and rage incarnate wasn't "all that bad".

"Well, he's not exactly the nicest person," Tsuyu speaks up diplomatically and the other girls nod in agreement. "He's—"

"He's too intense!" Mina interrupts as she sticks her tongue out in distaste.

"Scary…" Hagakure adds with a tremor in her voice.

"Uncouth," Momo finishes and Mina nods in agreement, convinced that she'd gotten her point across.

"See, Ochako? Bakugou's our fellow classmate and all that but he's not exactly boyfriend - ("H-he's not my boyfriend!" Ochako stammers and blushes) - or even friend, material, you know?" Mina wags a finger to emphasize her point. "I mean, I'll admit he's kinda hot but aside from that can you name even one good thing about him?"

Ochako gulps as all eyes turn to her. She leans back into her seat, hoping that if she goes back far enough then the cushions would just swallow her whole and she could just disappear. She didn't like being put on the spot like this but a part of her screamed for her to defend him, to show them that he was more than they — and maybe even he — knew.

"Bakugou-kun…," she starts slowly and the other girls lean in closer to listen. She clasps and unclasps her hands anxiously, her eyes darting around as she chews on her bottom lip.

"Bakugou-kun is…honest…"

There's a pregnant silence and Ochako tenses as the faces around her darken all at once.

"Ochako," Mina mutters, her voice and expression hollow from the disbelief, "at least say something that makes sense."

"It's true!" Her fists clench at the memory of going head-to-head to him, the earnestness she had felt from him in the heat of their battle. "Bakugou-kun says what he means and means what he says and he's so confident too! And sometimes," she stops and looks down at her fidgeting hands, "sometimes that confidence rubs off on you, y'know? Sometimes…sometimes, I start feeling confident in myself…like maybe I can change too."

The five other girls are silent now and even Jirou — who couldn't be any less interested in people's love lives — sits up straighter in order to listen.

"He challenges me and he respects me," — she remembers sunset evenings when they would spar on the foam mats in the gym; breathing together, sweating together, fighting together. She remembers the feel of his sweat-soaked skin against hers, the touch of his warm breath against her face and the ivory pearls of his teeth as his mouth would stretch into that grin he always got when he faced a worthy opponent.

"He makes me laugh," she hides her smile behind her fingers as she remembers the times she'd laugh at loud at one of his many tantrums and he would get angrier and angrier, threatening to murder everyone within a three mile radius, until he would give up and sulk - teeth grit and hands stuffed deep into his pockets in silent defeat.

"He believes in me," she continues as she lowers her hands and her gaze grows distant. He never says it in so many words but she could feel it in his touch and could see it in his eyes every time they sparred. To him she was not porcelain; she was forged of iron and steel.

"Ochako…" Mina's cautious voice breaks her from her reverie and Ochako looks up to see the other five girls looking at her in wide-eyed wonder. Ochako opens her mouth to say something but closes it when she realizes there's nothing to say. They finally had the answer they were looking for.

"You must…really like him," Hagakure pipes up softly. Ochako's hands fly to cover her blushing cheeks and a part of her is ready to fight and argue - 'no, no, no, it's nothing like that!' - but then she stops.

She remembers the first time she had felt the nervous heat of his nitroglycerin-soaked hands clasped in hers; his touch shaky and anxious but also warm. She remembers tufts of his rebellious ash-blonde hair dyed golden with the dying rays of the sun and the line of his broad shoulders carrying the weight of the sunset. She remembers that day; how she had drawn closer to him and the way her heart had whispered to her — "It's him. It will always be him." — and she had silently agreed.

"Yea," her heartbeat hums soft and sweet with humble acceptance as she relaxes and smiles. This time there is no floating, no excessive stammering or blushing. There was no point. Not when she was acknowledging what was real and true.

"I do."