Author's Notes: When I first saw Villain!Deku stuff, I thought, no way, not my precious boy. Because he is a hero through and through! But damn if the fanart didn't suck me in. However, when I went scrambling for fanfiction, as one does, I found that nearly every single one lacked something: my girl Ochako Uraraka. I desperately wanted a villain!Deku fanfic that had Uraraka as a main character/protagonist, but found maybe one or two tops. Sometimes, in order to read exactly what you want, and so I did despite having that insane BNHA/FMA fanfic already underway. Deku will always be a hero in my heart and I think the heart of this story - however the hell it ends up - will be about bringing him back to where he belongs.

Disclaimer: I own nothing. I'm just here to break my own heart.

"Love is willing to become to villain so that the one who you love can stay a hero."
― Josephine Angelini, Firewalker

Uraraka woke up falling.

Or at least it was the sensation of falling.

She jerked awake in her large bed, her legs and arms flailing as she was snatched out of the nightmare. For a brief moment, she was tangled in a sea of blankets and sheets and felt as if she'd actually fallen into the choppy water, but then a cool breeze and the sounds of the city blew in from her open window and she went still. She took a moment to stare at the ceiling before she slid her hands over her face and took a deep breath. By the time she pulled her hands away and opened her eyes, her heart had stopped pounding in her chest.

It had been almost a month since she'd last had the dream. Why had it come back out of the blue? She had thought that it might finally leave her alone, but no, it had come back to her last night in an unforgiving way. Even now, it clung to her desperately, hanging in the corner of her mind, as if afraid that she might forget it completely.

She had to get up. She had to get out of bed. She had to get on with her day.

Like she did every morning that she had off, Uraraka took a long, hot shower first. She took her time with her hair and with washing herself, like she could scrub away anything with a loofah. After that, she made herself breakfast in her small but cozy kitchen while the radio played in the background. She walked around her apartment aimlessly in a pink bathrobe and worn through slippers drinking a cup of coffee. It was only when she caught sight of her calendar that she came to a halt.

Oh. It was his birthday today.

As if on cue, the phone rang, forcing Uraraka to look away. She knew that she should answer it, but she also knew what it would be about, even if she didn't know who exactly was on the other end. She waited until the answering machine picked it up, her single voice telling the caller to leave a message, and then listened as Tsu's voice left a voicemail.

"Hey, Ochako, I was calling to see if you wanted to have lunch," her best friend said on the other end. "No sense in lying. You shouldn't have to be alone today. Call me back, please, or I'll try again later."

That was Tsu for you - straight and to the point. She always said what was on her mind, even if it made other people uncomfortable. Uraraka didn't mind. She knew that Tsu wouldn't be the only one calling today, but she would be one of the very few who would be open about why. There was no sense in lying. It didn't matter what any of her friends said; she'd know what they were up to. It was sweet of them, truly, but she couldn't let herself get wrapped up in this today.

More than anything, she was desperate for it to be normal. Deep down she knew that her attempts to make it so during the day would only make it worse for her come tonight and she'd probably be calling Tsu babbling through tears, but Uraraka wanted to at least pretend like she was strong enough to handle this on her own. Even if she also knew that she didn't have to.

Besides, weren't they suffering too? Weren't they sad as well? She should tend to their grief. She was being selfish.

Later, she'd call back Tsu later, but for now, Uraraka went about the rest of her morning routine. She took a walk around the quiet neighborhood she'd moved to two years ago. It wasn't much, but it was very nice in her opinion and it was low in crime, almost as if any villains actively stayed out of the area. She ran errands, going to the bank and the farmer's market and the like, smiling at neighbors and making friendly smalltalk with the vendors. The sun was out and everyone seemed so happy.

However, when she came home to a silent and empty apartment, no amount of natural light could lift the dark cloud that had been brewing in her mind. She dropped the bags and sunk down into a crouch with her back to her front door and covered her face once more as if to shield herself.

The phone rang again - had probably been ringing while she was out since her cell was turned off - and Uraraka once again waited for the voice of one of her close friends. Maybe it would be Iida this time or Momo. Maybe it would be Hatsumi or even Todoroki.

It was none of them. Instead, of all people, it was Bakugou.

"Hey, Round Face, you better be decent because I'm gonna be over there in like three minutes," Bakugou's voice said with all the delicacy of a wrecking ball. "We're going day drinking."

There was no preamble. No "are you doing okay" or "do you need some company" or "it'll be alright". It was just plain old Bakugou blowing his way in. He'd never changed in that respect. When it came to any defensive walls that she might have put up around everyone else, he just blew them up and stepped right over them, like they weren't even there for a reason, like they didn't matter to him.

Uraraka could be mad - probably should be mad - but it felt nice to not be treated like glass.

A few minutes later, just as he had said, the doorknob rattled and swung open. Having cleaned herself up, Uraraka was busy putting the items from her errand away in the pantry, but that still didn't stop her from gawking in confusion as Bakugou stepped inside her place and kicked the door shut behind him.

"Excuse me," she greeted, "but I don't remember giving you a key."

"You didn't," Bakugou simply told her, like that was all she needed to know. Uh, definitely not. Him having a key to her place was a new development as far as she was concerned. He rolled his eyes. "I made a second copy of it like ten months ago." Ah, during the dark days when everyone had acted as if they couldn't leave her alone for more than a day. None of the others had stolen her keys to make a copy. "Never used it before though. Stupid thing acted like it didn't want to work at first."

A part of her wanted to hold out her hand and tell him to hand it over. Another part of her realized that it would be futile and she wasn't sure if he didn't have a backup just in case she did demand it. Not that it mattered in the end. He could do whatever he wanted. It wasn't like he came over all the time or something.

"That what you're wearing?" Bakugou asked as he sat down on one of the stools that were placed behind the counter that separated the kitchen from the living room. She had thought it cute when first looking for apartments. It was where someone could sit down and still chat and see whoever was in the kitchen.

Uraraka looked down at her outfit, black leggings with a baggy, faded red sweatshirt/dress that hung over her shoulders, and a black sports bra showing. It was a lazy outfit to match her slow-going day. She gave Bakugou a shrewd look. "Yes, what's wrong with it?"

"Nothing," Bakugou replied with a grunt, but he was still eyeing her strangely.

"Do you want me to change?"

Bakugou waved a dismissive hand. "No, I don't give a shit what you wear." Then why the hell had he commented on it? Sometimes, he had a way of drawing attention to the smallest details, somehow making her feel insecure even when he genuinely didn't seem to mean to. She liked this outfit and she was going to wear it. After all, they were just going to do some day drinking, not some fancy restaurant. "You done?"

"Yeah." Uraraka turned around to face him. "So where are we going?"

"It's a surprise."

Uraraka huffed. "So the same place as usual. Got it."

The fact that she hadn't fought this at all was either a testament to how tired she was or proof that she didn't really want to be alone. It wasn't the first time she and Bakugou had done something like this, but it wasn't like it was a regular thing. He was off doing his own hero thing and she was doing hers. They had different lives and even lived in different cities, although he wasn't that far away.

It occurred to her to realize that they never crossed each other's paths accidentally anymore - that every interaction between them was intentional and mostly on his behalf - but he was still a normal part of her life. They didn't call each other daily and sometimes she didn't hear from him for a week, but then he'd shoot her a text or she'd email him an article or they just found themselves at lunch and that was that. It wasn't an easy friendship - it never was with Bakugou - but it was...something consistent.

The fact that Bakugou never truly changed made her feel good, even if he was different than he had been at school. She wouldn't quite say that he was soft, but he wasn't as sharp around the edges anymore. He could definitely still be cutting when he wanted to be and she didn't doubt his temper for a second, but he'd learned how not to blow up at the drop of a hat.

They walked a mile down the street to a bar that was reasonably nice. It had a good outdoor sitting area and a surprisingly nice selection of craft beers and variety of whiskeys. They even had better than average food. She had found the place shortly after moving here when exploring the area. According to Bakugou, it was the only good place around her neighborhood. If they had lunch or dinner, it was either by his place or further into the city.

It was a nice day, so they got an outdoor table and Bakugou immediately ordered for them, "We need two orders of gyozo and your most expensive bottle of sake. Scratch that. Make it two as well."

"Bakugou!" Uraraka gasped.

"What?" Bakugou scoffed at her as the server scurried away. "I'm not drinking shit sake."

Uraraka's cheeks turned a little pinker. "But...it's…"

"It's what? I make a boat load of money. This is nothing." Bakugou was, as usual, not modest, but he wasn't outright bragging either. It was what it was. As one of the top pro heroes, he did make great money. She admittedly made good money as well, enough to support herself happily and give her parents a comfortable life, but old habits would always die hard.

It didn't escape her that his words implied that he was paying for all this. He wasn't going to say that outright either, but if she so much as moved to pull out her wallet, he'd snap at her. This was him being...nice. Helpful. A friend. She took it, knowing that, even though he wouldn't admit it, today was almost as big of a deal for him as it was for her. Maybe just as big. He wouldn't tell her the exact truth and she wouldn't force it out of him.

When their alcohol arrived, along with two waters, Bakugou shoved one sake bottle over to her side of the table and then opened his to pour himself a cup. His courtesy extended as far as paying and nothing more, but it only made her smile. "What are you even doing here, Bakugou?" she asked, the smile still on her face.

"I'm drinking," Bakugou replied almost childishly. When Uraraka set the bottle down and gave him a look, he huffed out a sigh. "You know why."

"I can take care of myself."

"I know that," Bakugou huffed again. He pointed a finger at her. "But here's what's gonna happen anyway: we're gonna avoid talking about him; we're gonna get drunk and then we're gonna talk about him; you're gonna cry yourself out; I'm gonna make you laugh, carry your drunk ass home, and put you to bed; and then you're gonna thank me and go the fuck to sleep."

It wasn't funny in the slightest. This was a serious matter that was going to end with her in tears. She didn't like admitting that though and hearing it said to her out loud made her hackles raise. "Do you think I'm that weak that I'll just cry all over you?"

"I'm not underestimating your strength, Uraraka," Bakugou told her bluntly, his use of her name telling her how serious he was. She didn't think he would ever use her first name. She'd probably have a heart attack if he did. "You're basically the strongest person I know. Anyone else would've fallen apart and crashed, but not you." The appetizers arrived and Bakugou picked up his chopsticks, pointing them at her accusingly. "Now you better eat because I'm ordering a stupid amount of food."

Just like that, they switched gears. It was easy to do with Bakugou, who could drive a conversation like he would a sports car, completely in control and at a breakneck speed. He delved easily into his most recent hero activity, going from a huge villain takedown that she had seen in the news but just had to hear straight from the source to his most recent complaint about one of the sidekicks he seemed to loathe but kept around just so he could complain about the guy.

Bakugou was the kind of guy that could talk about himself a lot - and you were somehow happy for it, because it was entertaining and you didn't want to talk about yourself. And right now, Uraraka didn't want to talk. She wanted the blissful ignorance that came with just listening to someone who could make the world spin around them. She liked his stories, always peppered with colorful language and vivid imagery. It immersed her in his world and swept her away from everything else.

They were each on their second bottle of sake and had ordered some more appetizers and Uraraka hadn't even blinked. She'd sat there raptured, laughing at inappropriate moments that had him griping at her and throwing in teasing comments that made him smirk. It was an easy flow. She always forgot that until they were right here in these moments. That it could be easy. That she could breathe. Even with him.

"I saw on the news what you did last week," Bakugou told her abruptly. His cheeks were pinker than he would ever admit, the sake finally taking its toll on him. She knew that she was worse. It was getting closer to the evening now. They'd been here for so long that the sun was starting its slow descent behind the city skyline. The orange haze made Bakugou glow like fire, his sandy hair and red eyes sticking out even more than usual.

Uraraka smiled shyly into her glass of water. "It wasn't much."

"It was fucking cool is what it was," Bakugou corrected. "You saved ten people from a burning building and then helped catch the bastard that started it? Fucking cool."

Deep down, Uraraka knew that she had done a good job and after consuming a terrible amount of alcohol, even over the span of quite a few hours, she could admit that she was proud of herself. But it was hard to do that when the one person that mattered the most - the one save that she needed to do - had slipped right from her fingertips. Not literally, of course. She hadn't been able to touch him at all, missing him by mere inches. She could still feel the swish of empty air when she'd desperately reached out for him.

She had to save those people. She had to save everyone. She had to make up for who she hadn't. And she hadn't. She hadn't saved him. She'd missed him and she'd fallen out of the sky to catch him and she'd still- she'd still-

Oh, it was happening. Just as Bakugou had told her it would.

Despite being knee deep in drinking, Bakugou spotted it as well, the sudden shift in her demeanor that told him it was finally time. Her eyes dropped to her hands in her lap and he set his cup back on the table and leaned back in his seat. She suddenly wished that she hadn't drank so much. She didn't want to talk about it like this - she knew that she wouldn't be able to control herself - and yet she also knew that she wouldn't have talked about it at all if she hadn't been in this state.

Uraraka could go weeks without talking to anyone about it until some reporter asked her how Uravity was faring after her devastating loss of Deku.

"I know it's been almost a year," Uraraka finally said, her voice so damn small, "but I still miss him." Bakugou didn't say anything for once. This was her time to talk. This whole thing was her time to talk, but he'd filled up the space until she was ready. "I still… It doesn't happen nearly as often anymore, but I still sometimes forget that he's gone. I'll come home, expecting to smell take out and a hint of smoke from where he attempted to cook a fancy meal and failed, or I'll roll over, half awake, and reach out for him - and there's just nothing. He's not there. It's like he was never there to begin with."

Any of her other friends would've reached out to hold her hand, switch to the seat next to her, get up and wrap their arms around her shoulders. Bakugou didn't do any of those things. He just stayed in his seat, watching her, and stayed silent, listening. His face was remarkably passive considering who he was, his eyes unreadable. Most of their friends didn't think Bakugou was capable of patient listening, but she knew better. She knew that there was a quiet before the worst of storms and this one was hers.

"He was this...huge part of my life and not just because we were…" Uraraka rubbed her eyes. "And when he was gone, he was just gone. I didn't even get the chance to say goodbye. He didn't let me."

After almost eleven months, she didn't know whether to be angry or upset anymore it. He'd done what he did because he was a hero. It was who he was. He'd saved her life because she couldn't save his and in his eyes, if his fate was sealed in order to save hers, then that was that. There was no other option. He had been ready to die to save someone else.

But it wasn't fair because he was so more important than her. His place in the world was more than hers could ever be. The ten people she'd saved from an arsonist was nothing compared to the hundred he'd saved during an earthquake. She would never be the hero he could be and yet he'd still sacrificed himself to ensure she would live.

"And I'm just expected to move on with my life," Uraraka said, tears slipping down her face. Just as Bakugou had said, she was going to cry in public. How humiliating. "Did you see that article online the other day?"

"Oh, the one about whether or not you were dating that pro hero… Kaima Wood?" Bakugou wrinkled his nose in distaste. "A bit old for you, isn't he?" It was a brief attempt to lighten the mood and Uraraka made to laugh but then she started to cry instead, so all in all, a bit of a fail. She appreciated it though. "Fuck what they have to say. No one expects you to do anything except live. Take all the time you need. Never date again. Who gives a fuck?"

"That's easy for you to say," Uraraka mumbled. "You apparently have a new lay every week."

Bakugou rolled his eyes. "That's fucking stupid." He smirked at her. "It's every other week."

That half laugh/half cry slipped out of her again. She couldn't react any other way. Bakugou didn't snap at her for it, but he didn't pity her either. There was no "poor little Uraraka lost her boyfriend" coming from him. It was understanding that there were some chasms that couldn't be filled; sometimes they had to be climbed.

"He was supposed to be the greatest hero there ever was," Uraraka whispered. It was a testament to how much he had grown that Bakugou didn't respond to that statement at all. "And I couldn't save him. I couldn't do anything."

"Bullshit," Bakugou snapped, not meanly. "You nearly died trying to save him. You literally plummeted in a free fall in an attempt to reach him again. The only reason you didn't kill yourself trying to save him was because he had the foresight to see how blind you were to yourself." They'd gone over this before, but they needed to again, one more time. She knew he was right. She knew she was being irrational. But she needed to hear it said once more. "If it's anyone's fault, it's mine for not aiming right. I couldn't get you to where you needed to be to reach him in time."

A spike of panic flashed through Uraraka, a painful tug on her heart. He had never said anything like that before, only that it wasn't her fault. "Bakugou, you did your very best. You did everything you could."

Bakugou tipped his head back and closed his eyes. "Did I though? I keep asking myself if I could've done more. Maybe if I'd gone out there with you, maybe if I'd been able more damage to that damn villain so that Deku wouldn't have had to use everything he had against him mid-air over a fucking ocean." He sighed and leaned forward, looking terribly uncomfortable at having opened up. "All I could do in the end was make sure that you didn't go under too. That's what he wanted. I knew it the second he used the last bit of his strength to push you away from the water right before he hit it."

That was the nightmare though, wasn't it? That they had done everything they possibly could've done to save him and they had still failed. What kind of heroes did that make them?

The moment Deku had leapt from the cliff, the blast off so strong that it had knocked them all back, Uraraka had known that nothing was going to be the same. It was either stop the villain now or let the city explode. They'd watched from their pathetic spots on the ground, covered in blood, sweat, and mud, as Deku collided fist first like a rocket into the villain and exploded with a power that none of them would ever be able to grasp. There had only been a moment of cheer and relief before they had realized that Deku was falling towards the ocean and falling fast.

He was always falling in her dreams and, just as she hadn't that night, she could never reach him then.

"I keep thinking that one day I'll wake up and it'll just be normal that I'm by myself." Uraraka bit her lip. "One day I'll be able to put on my suit and not question myself about whether I'm worthy enough."

Bakugou bolted forward in his seat so fast that he bumped into the table, the empty sake bottles and their glasses clinking as they trembled in the wake of his anger. "Don't you ever fucking question yourself like that, okay? You're an incredible hero. Deku knew that. You could tell that by the way he looked at you like you were the fucking moon and stars." When she didn't look totally convinced, he clenched his hands into fists on top of the table. "You had your whole world turned upside down and most people would have shattered. Two weeks after, you went back to work, back to saving lives, back to kicking ass. I'm still pissed at you for that. You needed way more time."

"I couldn't sit around and do nothing!" Uraraka told him hotly, tears flooding her eyes again. "I couldn't just stand there and act like the world had stopped turning, even if it felt like it had for me. That's not the kind of hero Deku was and I wasn't going to let it be me. There were still people that needed to be saved, needed to be helped, and I promised myself that I would do that for him. That I'd do it for me - to prove that I was worth it."

There was a shadow over Bakugou's face, one that she couldn't quite place, as he said in an uncharastically quiet voice, "You've always been worth it. He knew that right from the start." The words were spoken with no less aggression than usual despite how quiet he was.

But they were just the right things to say. Uraraka could feel the walls bursting inside of her, punctured by such a simple statement. She curled her legs up in the chair so she could wrap her arms around them and press her face into her knees. Tears spilled out of her eyes and he let her cry. She didn't care if there were people around them. She didn't care if anyone she knew saw her. She didn't care if the paparazzi showed up and snapped pictures of her weeping and made some ridiculous tabloid (although she was certain Bakugou would blow a gasket and physically haul them away). She just let the tears come until they stopped.

Eventually they did. As all things did, her tears came to an end. When it happened, she took a deep breath and lifted her face, the cool breeze of the evening chilling the tears on her face.

Bakugou took one look at her and screwed up his face. "You look like your face is melting."

"It's my makeup, you idiot," Uraraka told him.

"Next time be prepared for emotional shit and wear waterproof makeup."

Despite everything - the pain, the absence, and the longing for something far gone - Uraraka felt a little lighter. She also felt the beginnings of a headache, but that was usually what happened after drinking and a heavy cry spell. Bakugou pushed a water towards her and she accepted it gratefully. "You're shit at comforting, you know."

"Good thing I'm just here to drink," Bakugou responded. "Now go clean your face before people start to think that I broke up with you or something."

Uraraka thought to comment on him not caring about what people thought, but agreed that she did probably look like shit. Besides, a splash of water against her face would help her feel fresher. She hurried to the bathroom so she could fix herself up, fishing out her phone in the process. The amount of missed calls and unanswered text messages made her cringe, but truth be told, she'd forgotten all about it while they'd been talking. The first and only person she responded to was Tsu, who she knew would spread the word for her.

Ochako
Sorry I haven't answered any of your calls. I'm fine.

Tsu
Are you sure? You haven't answered anyone. We've been worried.

Ochako
Again sorry. I've been busy. Had my phone turned off.

Tsu
Busy?

Ochako
Been with Bakugou for most of the day.

Tsu
Explains why he never answered our texts. We just thought he was being an ass.

That made Uraraka giggle a little, though it brought a few tears to her eyes as well. Everyone was handling this their own way. She should've talked to everyone earlier, but it had just felt so daunting. The idea of telling all her friends that she was fine, it was hard but she would make it, no she didn't need them to come over - it had been overwhelming. And then Bakugou had blown in and just swept her away from all of it like it was nothing and he didn't care what everyone else thought they should do for her.

Still, she felt guilty for ignoring them. Her friends were hurting too. Deku's...death hadn't affected only her. It would be a day late, but she would talk to them tomorrow. Maybe it was the alcohol flooding her veins, giving her a false sense of confidence, but she felt like tomorrow was going to be a new day. Like she was going to wake up and know in her heart that, no, things would never be the same again and she would always miss Deku and love him too, but she would be the hero he knew she was and she would smile for real when she thought back to him.

When Uraraka returned to the table, Bakugou was pouring the last bit of their sake into her cup. "Oh, no, no, I can't." He raised an eyebrow and pushed the glass towards her. "I can't!" She laughed a little. "Did you see how I was walking over here?"

"Yeah, not wobbly enough," Bakugou countered, putting all the pressure on her. She concentrated on the cup, picked it up, and then drank it. Granted, it wasn't much, but it was enough to make her feel woozy. He grinned at her, all teeth and vicious, and then stretched back in his seat like a cat, his t-shirt raising up to expose skin. "That's much better."

Uraraka eyed him and put her hands on her hips, which might have been a little intimidating if she wasn't swaying a little on the spot. "Trying to get me drunk to take advantage of me?"

Bakugou stood up slowly, as if he had nowhere else he'd rather be than right in her space, and said, "Who says I need to get you drunk first?" in such an outrageously suggestive low tone that Uraraka burst out laughing.

The alcohol made it so much worse. She felt like she was shooting from one emotion to the other, but this one she embraced. It felt good to laugh. It had felt good to cry in all honesty. She'd been hiding from it all day, but now that she'd done it and it was out in the open, she felt relieved. She barely caught sight of the checkbook on the table, already taken care of, before Bakugou all but pushed her out of the bar so she wouldn't try to sneak a peek at the damage. He knew her too well.

Unfortunately, he had also known that that last bit of sake would do her in. The walk home would've been painful if not for the cool breeze that brushed against her. They did it in silence, him with his hands in his pockets and her with her hands clutching the strap of her purse. More than likely it was because both of them needed to focus on walking without looking like a couple of drunk idiots, which they probably did anyways. Bakugou was doing a pretty good imitation at not being drunk, but his steps were sluggish and his eyes kept sweeping over to her like he was making sure she was still standing.

By the time they reached the steps of her apartment, Uraraka found herself groaning and slumping against him. Her eyelids were so heavy and she was so tired. Her mind screamed at her to just drift off where she stood. She didn't want to walk up the stairs. She was only on the second floor, but it seemed so far away. Maybe she could get away with sleeping in her car. That seemed like a reasonable idea right now.

"I knew this would happen," Bakugou sighed, even though it was his fault for getting her this drunk in the first place. She turned to tell him that when he bent down and slid his arms underneath her, picking her up like she was nothing and holding her bridal style in his arms. Uraraka let out a tiny squeak. "I told you that I was gonna have to carry your drunk ass home."

The first two steps he took were far too wobbly and she wrapped her arms around his neck and pressed her face into his shoulder, almost certain that they were going to fall, but then he tightened his grip on her, tensed up his body, and made quick work of the rest, powering through it by sheer will. At her door, he once again used his copy of her key to let them in and kicked the door shut.

Once inside, she thought he'd let her down, which seemed like a terrible idea since her legs were jello and she felt out of it from hanging in the air, but he didn't. He gripped her just a little tighter as if to let her know that he wasn't done and, just a tad bit drunk, she didn't fight it. Instead, he slowly made his way through her dark apartment until he reached her bedroom and carefully laid her down on her bed. It was far too gentle for someone as chaotic as him, but maybe it was the alcohol, dulling his emotions for once.

As Bakugou grumbled about her always leaving her damn window open for any old villain to crawl through and closed it for her, Uraraka opened her eyes and looked at the ceiling, suddenly remembering how she had done the same thing this morning after waking up from the nightmare about Deku's fall and her twice failure to touch him in time. "I had the dream again last night."

A breath of air escaped from Bakugou as he returned to her bedside. "Do you want me to call Tsuyu or…?"

She shook her head. "No, I'll be fine, just…"

"I'll stay," Bakugou said in a decisive tone. "On the couch, I mean. Can't really drive right now anyways."

They looked at each other for a beat too long. Uraraka knew it was too long and Bakugou surely didn't look at anyone that long, but alcohol had a funny way of making barriers seem nonexistent. The urge to reach out and squeeze his hand hanging at his side was so sudden that she didn't even think about not doing it. She felt him tense up at first when she did so, but then he loosened up and squeezed back before she pulled her hand away.

Uraraka raised an eyebrow at him and he gave her a questioning look. "Are you just going to stand there? I'm not sleeping in this." Bakugou narrowed his eyes at her for a second, a sharp quip on his tongue, before he decided against it and walked towards the door. "Hey, Bakugou." He stopped to glance back at her and she gave him a tired smile, the moonlight from her window casting a faint glow on her. "Thank you."

"Whatever, Angel face," Bakugou dismissed, though she saw the pleased look on his face. She didn't bother telling him where the blankets and pillows were for him to use. He knew where they were. Having done this a few times before, usually when Bakugou was in a foul mood and needed someone to vent to that wasn't Kirishima, he was at least a little familiar with her couch.

She took a deep breath as she sat up in bed. Round Face. Angel Face. Bakugou was always full of nicknames for everyone that he came in contact with. Back at U.A., it had been because he'd never bothered learning names and then it just stuck for him, if not anyone else. He called (most of) their former classmates by their names now, but still fell back on his tried and true nicknames for them.

A deep wave of sadness swept over her again for a brief moment. It had been almost a year since he'd been called Kacchan. She wondered if he missed it, but knew better than to ask. As far as he was concerned probably, the name had died along with Deku.

After changing into shorts and a t-shirt, Uraraka fell back in bed and crashed quickly, as if she'd lost all strength to fight the battle against the alcohol. Hopefully the amount of food and water she'd consumed would prevent any sort of hangover, but only the morning would tell. Luckily, the alcohol had the effect of dampening any dreams she might've had, so that by the time she woke up, there was nothing to remember except Bakugou's words and that last look she'd seen on his face. She considered it a blessing that there was only a faint thumping in her head that would go away in an hour or so.

Uraraka took her time getting up. She stretched in bed and yawned before snuggling up with her covers a little more and simply listening to the birds chirping and the morning traffic spilling in from her open window. When she finally got out of bed, she noticed just how quiet her apartment was. The last time Bakugou had crashed on her couch, she'd thought his snores were going to wake the dead, not that he'd ever cop to snoring.

Peeking outside of her bedroom, Uraraka found it empty, though he'd charmingly left the pillows and blankets bunched up on her couch. Such a gentleman. She shook her head and went to the bathroom to start her morning routine. She really needed to go to the gym today. Then she'd start her round of apologies for going off the grid yesterday and ignoring everyone else's pain.

For just a little bit longer, she wanted to stand in this strange morning bliss. It was like a small weight was off her shoulders. Not all of it, but just enough where she could stand up straight again.

After finishing in the bathroom, Uraraka padded into the kitchen to make breakfast, only to find a bowl already made next to a note in Bakugou's writing that said, Eat this! So he could cook breakfast but not fold up blankets? That man was full of surprises. He probably got up at the crack of dawn regardless of how much he drank or fought the night before. No rest for the wicked or those wanting to be at the top.

Smiling to herself, she took the food and went back into her bedroom to pack all her stuff for the gym. She hummed under her breath as she did so, feeling better with every bite and passing second. It was going to be a good day. She was going to do some wonderful things. She was going to live her life. That was what Deku would have wanted. Not just to push herself as a hero, but also as a person. He had been so thoughtful.

Uraraka was still humming pleasantly when she walked back into the kitchen to clean out her dish when a voice abruptly shattered everything.

"Good morning, Ochako."

Instead of falling to the ground, the bowl floated up to the ceiling the second Uraraka let go of it to form fists and spun around. Her heart had leapt into her throat because for a half a second she'd opened her mouth to say a name that she'd spent months unable to speak, but no it couldn't be. This was just a setback, like when she woke up sometimes and forgot he wasn't in bed next to her or how she'd leave the shop down the street and think she saw a flash of his green hair moving around the corner.

But then she turned around completely and her hands flew to her mouth and her heart dropped into her stomach. Uraraka barely managed to whimper, but the name tumbled out of her mouth. "Deku?"

There he was, Deku, her Deku, like he'd never been gone. Sitting in the chair that they'd bought at a flea market and he'd refurbished for her just because he thought it would make her smile. It was undeniably him, alive and well and in her living room. His unmanageable green hair. His vibrant green eyes. The freckles that never left his face even as his body grew taller and stronger. Out of all things, he was wearing a black suit and matching vest and his tie - her lips trembled at the sight - his tie was still done far too short. She would've burst into tears had she not been so stunned.

However, when Deku smiled at her, a cold chill ran down her spine and the thought run away came to her mind when she had only ever run to him before. And she knew. She knew there was something wrong with that smile, something not quite right, but then none of this was right. "I missed you."