Chapter 20: What I've Seen In You All Along

Deku. Tch. Damn nerd really does have a girlfriend now.

Bakugo watched her out of the corner of his eye. She was small—not exactly super short, but… compact. The kind of petite that made her look even smaller standing next to him. But the right kind of size for someone like Deku. Definitely too pretty for him though.

He hated the cold, and the fact Aiko refused a nice warm café only pissed him off more. He yanked a hot can of black coffee from the vending machine with a metallic clack, cracked it open, and stalked toward the park.

Figures she’d pick the one option that means freezing my damn hands off. And what is it with her, anyway? Always so calm. Like she’s untouchable.

He took a swig of coffee, the bitter kind with no sugar, no milk.

Better spill the truth tonight, or I’m done playing guessing games.

His footsteps crunched on the gravel as he walked ahead of Deku and Aiko. The winter air nipped at his face, and the distant hum of festival music was finally starting to fade behind them. Good. The last thing he needed was some chirpy background song ruining what was already going to be a pain-in-the-ass conversation.

They rounded a bend in the path, and he spotted a small rest area tucked between a cluster of bare trees. A wooden table sat beneath a dull lantern, flanked by two benches, half-dusted with frost. Not a soul in sight.

He didn’t wait for them to catch up. He took a slow sip of his coffee then set it on the table with a soft thunk. His fingers flexed once, then stilled.

“I—I didn’t know you drank coffee,” Deku said, trying for casual.

“Figured I’d need it for this,” Bakugo muttered.

Aiko’s milk tea hissed softly as she cracked the seal. Her eyes flicked between them as she sat first, sliding onto the bench opposite him. The Red Justice plushie rested in her lap, its tiny fists raised. Bakugo’s gaze caught on it—Thailand’s No.1.

How the hell does she even know who he is?

Deku hesitated, then followed, placing his hot lemon drink beside hers. He sat a little too close to her, like mooning over his girlfriend wasn’t enough unless he was in her pocket too.

Bakugo didn’t speak right away. He just watched them—Deku, tense but trying not to show it, and Aiko… calm, but not quite relaxed. Her fingers were still wrapped lightly around her drink like it was an anchor.

His breath curled in the air, white against the dark. Frost crept along the edge of the table. The cold was already getting to his fingers.

“Okay,” Bakugo muttered, leaning forward with his elbows on the table. “Let’s hear it, then.”

Aiko’s eyes widened slightly. She looked up at him, but didn’t say anything.

He narrowed his eyes. “We haven’t got all night, Snowflake.”

Still nothing.

Deku shifted beside her. Bakugo could see it out the corner of his eye—his fingers tapping against the can, leg bouncing just slightly under the table. Nervous. He knew something. But he wasn’t about to speak up.

“Alright,” his voice dropped lower. “I’ll start. Why were those guys after you?”

Aiko rotated the can slowly in her hands, staring at it like the words might be written in the condensation.

“They…” she started, voice low. “Those guys… my… um…”

Bakugo exhaled sharply through his nose. “What’s the matter, cat got your tongue? You’re usually running your mouth nonstop.”

She flinched—barely—but didn’t look up.

Under the table, Deku reached out and placed his hand on her knee.

Aiko’s eyes lifted. She glanced at him, just for a second. Whatever passed between them in that glance—Bakugo couldn’t read it. But something shifted in her shoulders. Like a knot finally loosening.

Aiko looked up, eyes meeting his. Her voice was quiet—flat.

“I think the people who murdered my parents hired them.”

Bakugo stilled.

He hadn’t expected that. Not even close.

His grip tightened slightly around the coffee can.

“…Shit.”

He didn’t say it loud, just under his breath—but it hit like a punch to the gut.

He looked at her again. No wonder she dodged every question. No wonder Deku hovered like some glorified guard dog.

Bakugo swallowed hard.

The hell kind of life had she been living? Who the hell were her parents?

“…Why?” he asked bluntly—but slightly softer than before.

Aiko’s eyes flicked back down to her drink. She rotated the can again in her hands.

“Because they wouldn’t hand me over,” she said.

Her voice didn’t waver. But it was quiet. Matter-of-fact. The kind of certainty that left no room for questions.

Bakugo’s brow twitched.

He glanced at Deku, but the nerd was staring straight ahead, jaw tight, hand still gently resting on her knee beneath the table.

There was more to this. Way more.

Something heavy sank in his chest. They were killed because they protected her. He didn’t like the feeling creeping up his spine.

And suddenly, the mystery wasn’t so fun to solve anymore.

Aiko glanced around, shoulders tensing, eyes scanning the tree line, the dark path they’d walked, the empty benches half-lost in shadow. Like she expected someone to be there. Like she’d learned, the hard way, not to speak until she was sure no one was listening.

Then she talked, and he listened. He didn’t interrupt, didn’t ask questions. He just sat there, elbows on the table, fingers curling around the edge of his can.

Bakugo wasn’t even sure what he expected—tears, maybe. Anger. Fear. Something. But she barely flinched.

She spoke of death. Of parents torn from her life, murdered for protecting her. Of running. Hiding. Surviving alongside some random old quirkless man with nothing to offer but hope.

She said it like she was reading off a grocery list. She didn’t break down, she didn’t crack, she didn’t even flinch.

And that unsettled him more than any sob story ever could.

This girl… this tiny, stubborn pain in the ass who’d stood up to him with fire in her eyes, was made of something harder than he’d given her credit for.

He glanced at Deku. His jaw was still clenched, his eyes dark and wet, barely blinking. Every muscle in his face drawn tight like he was holding back a storm.

Bakugo scoffed quietly.

She’s the one who lived it—but he’s the one falling apart.

Figures.

He looked back at her.

Still calm, still solid, like every word she’d just said hadn’t cost her a single thing. Eventually, her gaze lifted, meeting his.

“Thank you, Kacchan.”

He blinked. The softness in her voice slipped under his guard before he even realized it.

“…For what?”

“For helping us that night,” she said simply.

Bakugo looked away. “Tch. Looked like you nerds needed a distraction. I just happened to be there.”

Silence settled in again. But the kind that didn’t feel awkward, just… tired. They each sipped their drinks, the heat long gone.

Bakugo leaned back slightly, eyes still on her.

“So,” he muttered, tone gruff but quieter now, “you gonna tell me what your damn quirk is, or what?”

She looked up at him, gaze steady. “Well… as you know, I can use other people’s quirks.”

Bakugo narrowed his eyes. “You don’t expect me to believe that’s it.”

She inhaled slowly through her nose, then let it out in one soft breath. “There’s not much else to it. If I’m attacked with a quirk, I can absorb that exact amount of energy and use it for a short time.”

Exact amount? Bullshit.

His frown deepened, eyes narrowing.

“And what else?” His voice sharpened slightly, more demand than question now.

Aiko hesitated, then added, “And… I’m immune to injury from quirk attacks.”

Bakugo blinked. His eyes widened—just slightly. A flicker of shock behind the usual glare.

“No fucking way.”

She didn’t flinch.

“You’re serious?”

“Well,” she said dryly, “did you see any burns when you used your little firecrackers on me?”

Bakugo’s brow ticked, but the corner of his mouth twitched too. “Tch. Thought you were just too cocky to drop.”

She tilted her head. “Cocky? Or just superior?”

That got a full smirk out of him. “You really think I couldn’t knock you flat if I wanted to?”

Aiko leaned in a hair closer, eyes gleaming. “Give it your best shot, Kacchan. But don’t cry when it backfires.”

His grin sharpened. “You sure talk big for someone the size of a mouse.”

“Please,” she shot back, scoffing. “You’re nothing but smoke and attitude.”

He leaned forward slightly, voice low, almost a growl. “Keep talking like that and I’ll put you on your back.”

Her brows lifted, a smirk playing at her lips. “I’d like to see you try…”

Bakugo let out a low scoff, but the heat in his eyes said enough. “Careful princess,” he muttered, “sounding a lot like you want me to.”

A spark lit behind her eyes as she tried to hold back the smile tugging at her mouth.

That moment hung just a second too long.

Deku shifted beside her, clearing his throat like he meant to say something—but didn’t. Instead, he slid his hand under her arm, looping it gently through his. A quiet, claiming sort of gesture.

Bakugo clocked it instantly. He didn’t say anything but his lip curled in the faintest smirk.

Then—

“U-Um,” Deku said, voice cracking just slightly. “It’s, uh… getting late. We should probably go.”

Aiko blinked, then nodded. “Yeah.”

She stood first. Deku followed, fumbling slightly as he reached up to tuck a blue streak back beneath Aiko’s hat. Bakugo watched, his expression unreadable, before letting out a slow breath and looking away. He took his time, knocking back the last swig of lukewarm coffee before crushing the can in his palms. They walked in silence, the three of them crunching along the gravel path.

Deku made sure to walk in the middle.

He didn’t let go of Aiko’s hand the entire time, his fingers laced tightly with hers, thumb brushing against her gloved hand in small, absent strokes. Every few steps, he pulled her closer—just enough to make sure it was noticed. Subtle, but deliberate.

Bakugo scoffed under his breath, shoving his hands deeper into his coat pockets as they walked.

They reached the edge of the park, where the street lamps buzzed faintly above the bus stop. The air had thinned out, and the cold was sharper now, the sounds of the festival far behind them.

Aiko said nothing.

Deku shifted beside her, hesitating for a beat before turning slightly. “Kacchan…” he swallowed, voice low. “Don’t… say anything. To anyone. Please.”

Bakugo just looked at him. “I’m not a damn idiot.”

Then he turned, hands still stuffed in his pockets, and started walking away.

✧ ✧ ✧

The sky was just starting to turn gold at the edges, the ocean still wrapped in pale blue shadow. They had just hauled the last rusted sheet of metal to the sorting pile. The beach was finally clear.

Aiko turned slowly, taking in the empty sand, the soft morning light catching on the waves.

“…Wow,” she said, voice low. “You really did it—.”

Before she could finish, Izuku grabbed both her hands in his, breathless and beaming.

“We did it.”

Her heart gave a little lurch.

“No,” she said, smiling up at him, “this was all you! You did it, Izuku! I’m so proud of you.”

He smiled. His fingers tightened around hers, drawing their joined hands to his chest. His heart was racing wildly, but steadily. Because she was here. Because she believed in him. And he did it.

Aiko squealed, eyes crinkling. “It’s today! Are you excited!? Are you ready!?”

Izuku inhaled like the ocean had just filled his lungs.

And then—he exploded into movement.

“I’M SO READY!!”

He skidded to a stop, yanked off his shirt, and tossed it aside without hesitation.

Aiko blinked.

Then blinked again.

Oh my god. When did he get that body?!

The blush hit her before she could stop it. Her eyes lingered a little too long on the definition of his shoulders, the subtle taper of his waist, the curve of muscle under his skin.

She looked away quickly, biting down on the corner of her lip.

“Are you crazy?” she laughed. “It’s freezing!”

But he was already running, feet kicking up sand as he started climbing the huge heap of metal. The cleared junkpile towered over the beach now, a monument to ten months of sweat and blood.

“Be careful!” she shouted after him, still grinning.

He didn’t slow. Just scrambled higher, bare-chested, until he hit the top. The wind tugged at his hair.

And then—

“AAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!”

His voice rang out, echoing against the buildings and the sea and the morning sky. A victory cry. Pure and wild.

Aiko smiled.

But then—a low rumble of tires. Her expression flickered. She turned just in time to see a familiar truck pulling up to the lot. The door opened.

All Might.

Well… Small Might.

Her eyes widened. Quickly, she slipped back behind a nearby stack of crates, crouching low. From there, she watched.

Izuku was still up on the mountain of junk, his hands clenched into fists, chest rising and falling in heavy, ragged breaths.

All Might stood below, looking up at him.

Then came the voice, unmistakable even in that smaller frame. He was saying something. Praising him, maybe. Encouraging him. Then he transformed before her very eyes.

Aiko stayed hidden. Eyes flicking between them.

But then—her smile vanished.

Izuku’s stance wavered. He swayed slightly on his feet. Then again. And then—

Her heart seized.

“No—!”

He toppled forward.

Aiko bolted from behind the crates before she even realized she was moving.

But—

All Might moved faster. In a flash of motion he caught him in his arms.

Aiko skidded to a halt mid-sprint, breath choking in her throat.

Izuku was safe. Cradled carefully in the arms of the No. 1 hero.

She stood there, stunned for half a second, before stumbling backward again, ducking behind the crates once more. Out of sight. Her pulse thundered. That was too close.

She pressed a hand to her chest. The ache was sharp now. A punch of panic still settling in her ribs.

She squeezed her eyes shut, fingers curling.

Don’t scare me like that, Izuku.

But he was alright. All Might had set him gently on his feet and was now pulling something up on his phone.

Aiko leaned forward slightly, squinting from behind the crates.

Her hands flew to her mouth, trying hard not to laugh out loud.

It was a photo—Izuku at the very beginning of his training. Gangly limbs and teary eyes, crumpled on the ground like a noodle.

Her shoulders shook with the effort of keeping quiet.

He was such a mess. So adorable!

Her cheeks actually hurt from holding back her laugh.

But as the photo disappeared and her eyes drifted back to him—her smile faltered slightly.

Izuku was still shirtless.

Her face went warm.

Oh… wow.

She ducked her head, brushing a strand of hair behind her ear like it might hide the flush creeping back up her neck.

Then she caught something All Might was saying.

“There’s a difference between being lucky, and deserving. One’s an accident, the other a reward. Never get the two confused.”

Her eyes softened. She didn’t know the full story. But whatever was about to happen… it felt important.

Then—

“Eat this.”

Aiko’s brows shot up. Wait, what?

She peered around the crates just in time to see Izuku staring down at something in All Might’s hand. His expression twisted—part horror, part confusion.

“…Huh?”

All Might looked almost exasperated now. “To inherit my power you’ve got to swallow some of my DNA, that’s how it works!”

Aiko slapped a hand over her mouth to stop the laugh that nearly exploded out of her throat.

Oh my god, he’s not serious—he’s not actually gonna—

Izuku’s face was pure panic. His lips pulled tight as he stared down at the single strand of hair like it was a death sentence.

All Might was not letting up. “Eat! Eat!”

Aiko sank back behind the crates, both hands clamped over her face now, cheeks puffed with silent laughter.

This… was unreal.

She peeked again—just in time to see him scrunch his face, brace himself…

And raise the hair to his mouth.

A short while later, Izuku looked as though he was going to throw up and All Might clapped him on the back. He muttered something about being late, and started off toward the parking lot.

Izuku watched him go, still clutching his throat.

Aiko stepped out from behind the crates. “So,” she said, grinning, “that was… dramatic. I almost died of secondhand embarrassment.”

He groaned. “Please forget everything you just saw.”

She laughed and moved closer. “Never.”

Then, softer—her voice dipping just slightly. “You did it, Izuku. You really did it.”

His breath caught again.

“You’re gonna kill it at U.A.,” she added. “You’re gonna be the best hero! Everyone’s gonna think you’re so cool. And honestly? I bet the second you walk through those gates, some girl’s gonna fall head over heels for you.”

He looked horrified. “Wh-What?! N-No way! That’s not—what—why would—?!”

She smirked. “I bet you won’t even get through the door before one talks to you.”

“I—I don’t want other girls to talk to me!” he blurted, face fully pink now. “I’m not interested in anyone else—I never will be.”

He reached for her hands, gripping them with quiet urgency. “Aiko, it’s always been you. Only you.”

Her heart gave a quiet flutter as she squeezed his hands in return.

“You’d have to brainwash me, hypnotize me, erase my memories or something just to get me to even look at another girl.”

She laughed softly, cheeks warm.

“Still,” she said, tilting her head, “if no girl even glances at you, I’ll be mildly offended.”

He blinked. “Huh?”

“It’d mean I’ve got terrible taste in guys.”

That made him laugh—eyes crinkling, shoulders finally relaxing.

“…Thank you,” he said. “For being here. For believing in me. For helping me clean this beach, and for…” His voice hitched. “Just… for everything.”

Izuku stepped forward and pulled her into a hug—tight, close, like he never wanted to let go.

Aiko wrapped her arms around him just as tightly. Her eyes fluttered closed as her cheek pressed against his bare chest, the warmth of him grounding her.

Then—without warning—Izuku laughed under his breath, seized by a sudden rush of giddy relief. His arms tightened and, before he could think better of it, he lifted her clean off the ground and spun her once.

A startled gasp-laugh burst out of her, hands clinging to his shoulders. “I-Izuku!”

He set her down, breathless and flushed, his hands still at her waist.

Their eyes caught and held—hers wide with surprise, lips parted in a startled smile; his eyes darker, steadier, lit with something that made her pulse stutter. His chest rose and fell against hers, each breath quicker than the last.

Neither of them moved.

Slowly—like gravity itself was pulling them closer—they leaned in. His fingers flexed lightly at her waist. Her hands slid up over his shoulders, sending a shiver through him.

He couldn’t look away. Every detail pulled him in—the soft shine of her eyes, the way her breath hitched, the faint tremble of her lashes as she blinked. The distance between them dwindled, hearts hammering so hard it felt like the air itself was caught in the rhythm.

And then it happened.

A faint crackle split the air. Green sparks shimmered to life along his arms, crawling over his biceps and brushing against her fingertips where they rested on him. The space between them thrummed, alive, charged with a pulse neither of them had expected.

Aiko’s breath caught, her fingers tightening against him. “Izuku…” she whispered.

He stared at his own arms, wide-eyed, trembling as the glow flickered and died away. “D-did I—? Was that—?”

She gave a small, breathless laugh, eyes shining. “That was you.”

Izuku jolted, staring at her like he wasn’t sure he’d heard right. “M-My… my quirk?!”

For a beat they just stared at each other—wide-eyed, stunned—until matching grins broke free, laughter bubbling up between them.

Then he suddenly let out a shout, unable to hold it in. “I—I have a quirk!!!”

Before she could blink, he swept her up again—arms firm around her waist—and spun her in dizzy circles, faster this time, laughter tearing out of him, wild and unrestrained. Aiko squealed, clinging to him as the beach blurred around them.

“Eeeeeee!!! You have a quirk, Izuku!!!” she laughed, voice bright and breathless as she threw her head back, giggles spilling into the air.

He spun her once more before setting her back down, both of them unsteady, breathless, laughing so hard it hurt. Sparks still flickered faintly at his fingertips, caught between them like fireworks.

She felt him exhale, slow and steady. His shoulders loosened slightly, like her presence had calmed him. He held her there a moment longer, then lifted one hand, nudging her hat back just enough before dipping his head and pressing a soft kiss to her hair.

The faintest shiver traced her spine, her fingers curling just slightly against his bare skin. For a heartbeat she stayed there, cheek pressed to his chest, the warmth of him surrounding her. Then, slowly, she tilted her head back, eyes lifting to meet his.

Her voice came soft, steady. “You were my hero before you had a quirk,” she whispered. “Now… the world finally gets to see what I’ve seen in you all along.”