Chapter 11 - Studying With Bakugo

Yuuki's hands trembled slightly as she stood in front of Bakugo's dorm room door. She could hear faint noises from inside—something being moved around, maybe a chair scraping the floor, or a few annoyed mutters that definitely sounded like Bakugo's voice. Her heart pounded in her chest so hard she swore it echoed in the hallway. She took a deep breath, clutched her notebook to her chest, and knocked softly on the door.

It swung open almost instantly.

Bakugo stood there, one hand on the doorknob, looking like he'd been waiting exactly for this moment. His blond hair was its usual spiky mess, and he wore a black t-shirt and gray sweatpants—casual, but somehow intimidating all the same. His sharp eyes landed on her, and for a brief second, he seemed to study her outfit before grunting.

"'Bout time. You're on the dot," he said, stepping aside so she could come in.

Yuuki blinked, not expecting that to be the first thing he said. "O-oh, um... h-hello, Bakugo," she stuttered nervously, taking a small step inside.

Bakugo's room was surprisingly neat. The bed was made, the desk spotless except for a few books and neatly stacked notes. There was a faint smell of smoke and something clean—like burnt caramel mixed with laundry detergent. It felt... oddly comfortable. Yuuki stood awkwardly near the door, her eyes darting around curiously, trying not to stare too much.

Bakugo dropped down onto the floor, cross-legged, a notebook already open in front of him. He pointed at the space across from him without looking up. "Close the door and sit down. We're not wastin' time."

"R-right!" Yuuki squeaked, fumbling for the handle and shutting the door behind her as gently as she could. She hesitated for a moment, still taking in the sight of his room—so him in every detail. A couple of dumbbells sat near the corner, a few All Might workout posters on the wall, and a small stack of energy drink cans lined up like trophies.

"Oi!" Bakugo's voice snapped her out of her thoughts. "Stop starin' at my room and sit down already!"

Yuuki jumped, her face going pink. "S-sorry!" she blurted, quickly rushing over and kneeling down across from him, setting her things neatly in front of her.

Bakugo clicked his pen open with a sharp snap and started flipping through a textbook. His movements were quick and focused—completely in control, like everything he did was part of some intense mission. Yuuki couldn't help but stare for a second, amazed at how different he was when he was working. He wasn't loud or obnoxious; he was just... serious. Determined.

He noticed her looking and raised an eyebrow. "What? You forget how to read or somethin'?"

"N-no!" Yuuki stammered, flustered, her hands flying to open her own book. "I was just—um—trying to figure out what page you're on!"

Bakugo gave her a skeptical look but didn't comment further. "Page seventy-eight. Start there. It's the analysis part. You mess that up, you'll fail the written section."

Yuuki nodded quickly, flipping to the page. "O-okay..."

They worked in silence for a while. Or at least, Bakugo did. He wrote fast and neatly, occasionally muttering under his breath about how easy this was. Yuuki, on the other hand, was trying her best to keep up but was too nervous to even hold her pencil correctly. Every time Bakugo glanced her way, she froze like a deer in headlights.

After several minutes, he noticed she hadn't written anything.

"Tch, what're you even doin'? You haven't answered a single question."

"I-I'm trying!" Yuuki said softly, shrinking a little. "I just... um... don't really get this part..."

Bakugo sighed, tossing his pen down. "Unbelievable. Scoot over."

Yuuki blinked in confusion. "W-what?"

"I said scoot. I'm not repeatin' myself."

She shifted nervously to the side, her heart racing as he leaned over to look at her notebook. His presence was so intense up close—his scent, his heat, the way his eyes focused so sharply on her paper. He tapped at the question she'd been stuck on.

"It's this one, right? You're overthinkin' it. Just apply the formula—see? It's not that hard."

"O-oh..." Yuuki murmured, following his explanation carefully. His handwriting was surprisingly neat, his voice low but confident as he broke down the problem. She found herself nodding along slowly. "I think I get it now... thank you, Bakugo."

He grunted, crossing his arms. "Yeah, well, don't make me explain it again."

Yuuki smiled shyly, looking down at her notebook as she wrote. For the first time all evening, she actually started to relax. Bakugo was loud and blunt, but... he was patient in his own way. Maybe not gentle—but definitely focused on helping her understand.

And as the minutes turned into an hour, the two of them sat there in quiet concentration, the only sounds being the scratching of their pencils and the occasional annoyed sigh from Bakugo whenever Yuuki accidentally dropped her eraser or asked if she was "doing it right."

•••

The night stretched on far longer than Yuuki had expected. The quiet hum of the dorms had dulled into stillness, save for the soft scratch of pencils and the occasional frustrated mutter from Bakugo. The clock ticked past nine, then ten, and before either of them realized it, three whole hours had slipped by.

Yuuki's head felt heavy as she leaned over her notebook, trying to keep her focus on the lines of formulas and notes. The words had started to blur, letters swimming on the page. She blinked hard, trying to force herself to concentrate. Her hand moved slowly as she wrote down one more answer, but her eyelids fluttered with fatigue. She rubbed at her eyes gently, stifling a small yawn that slipped out anyway.

Bakugo, who had been reviewing a section of notes across from her, glanced up immediately. His sharp red eyes landed on her half-asleep face, and his brow furrowed.

"Tch. You better not be fallin' asleep on me," he snapped, his voice low but edged with irritation.

Yuuki jumped a little, sitting up straighter. "S-sorry!" she said softly, clutching her pencil tightly. "I didn't mean to—"

Bakugo clicked his tongue, slamming his notebook shut just enough to make her flinch. "Don't apologize for every damn thing. You're tired, fine. Just don't pass out in the middle of my floor, alright?"

Yuuki nodded quickly, her cheeks flushed. "O-okay... I'll try not to."

For a moment, neither of them spoke. The room had grown comfortably quiet—almost peaceful in its own strange way. The soft hum of Bakugo's desk lamp lit the room in a warm, golden glow, and Yuuki could feel her heartbeat slow down as she stared at her notes. Even with his rough words, Bakugo's presence was oddly grounding. Loud, brash, and impossible to predict—but also strangely steady.

They studied for another half hour. Or rather, Bakugo did. Yuuki was clearly fighting a losing battle with exhaustion. Her pencil had fallen from her hand twice, and she'd blinked slowly like she was seeing double. Bakugo tried to ignore it at first, but his eyes kept drifting toward her every few minutes, his usual scowl softening just a fraction each time.

Finally, he looked up again, ready to ask her if she needed help with the next section. "Oi, you need help with this part or—"

But she didn't answer.

Bakugo froze mid-sentence, staring at her.

Yuuki had fallen asleep, sitting cross-legged with her head tilted slightly to the side. Her hair fell over her cheek, and her lips were parted just a little as she breathed evenly. One of her hands still rested on the open notebook in front of her, pencil long forgotten. The expression on her face was peaceful, completely opposite from how flustered and anxious she'd been all evening.

For a second, Bakugo just sat there, blinking. His first instinct was to yell—to tell her to wake up, that she was being ridiculous for dozing off in his room. But as he looked at her longer, something in his chest tightened.

She looked... small. And calm. And—dammit—cute.

Bakugo sighed heavily, dragging a hand down his face. "Unbelievable," he muttered under his breath, glaring half-heartedly at her. "Falls asleep in my room like it's nothin'. Tch."

He pushed himself to his feet and stood over her, arms crossed. She didn't stir. Her shoulders rose and fell in slow, steady breaths.

He grumbled to himself as he walked over to his bed, snatching up his blanket. It was warm, still carrying his scent faintly of smoke and detergent. For a brief second, he hesitated. Why the hell was he even doing this? He didn't care if she caught a cold. He wasn't—

"Whatever," he muttered, crouching down beside her.

Gently—so quietly he surprised even himself—he draped the blanket over her shoulders, adjusting it just enough to cover her properly. Yuuki stirred slightly, mumbling something incoherent under her breath, but didn't wake.

Bakugo froze again, watching her. The blanket's edges brushed her cheek, and for a split second, his hand hovered there too, as if tempted to move her hair out of her face. But he stopped himself, his jaw tightening as a faint heat crept up his neck.

"Ridiculous," he grumbled, backing away quickly. "You're lucky I didn't blast you awake."

Still, as he sat back down on the floor beside her, arms crossed, Bakugo couldn't quite stop himself from glancing at her again. The fierce glare on his face softened almost imperceptibly.

He leaned back slightly, staring at his notes, pretending to focus. But his eyes flickered toward her every now and then, catching the soft rise and fall of the blanket he'd just placed around her.

"Dumb girl," he whispered under his breath, barely audible.

And even though his face was set in his usual scowl, his cheeks were faintly red as he turned away—trying not to notice how peaceful his room suddenly felt.