I only have fries for you [IidaBaku] - Part 1

“Oh, and I’d like extra fries please, if it’s not too much trouble.”

Midoriya smiled at him knowingly, no words needing to be said out loud, but Iida did his best to ignore the hint of pity that underpinned it. He knew his friends thought it was sad, and a little weird, but Iida was perfectly happy with everything exactly the way it was, thank you very much!

“Extra hungry today?” Uraraka asked, grinning as she elbowed him in the ribs.

“I’m glad you’ve found a food you like so much,” Todoroki offered, oddly serious about it. “You’re usually much pickier about what you eat, so it’s nice that you like fries so much lately. I’m happy for you.”

“Ahh... Thank you, Todoroki.” Iida smiled awkwardly. “I appreciate that.”

“Should we eat outside again?” Midoriya suggested, when they all had their trays of food in hand.

“Yeah!” Uraraka grinned. “It’s been nice, don’t you think, Iida?”

“Oh, yes, it’s very... pleasant.”

The pair of them giggled together as they led the way, and Iida just sighed to himself, with Todoroki as oblivious as ever at his side as they followed.

He loved his friends, he truly did, but some days he still wondered how he got involved with Midoriya and Uraraka’s antics.

The moment they stepped outside, the noise hit him, and he looked over with a tiny smile tugging at his lips. Bakugou was yelling as usual, Kaminari grinning as he kept the argument going, likely not even caring about, or believing, half the things he argued for. He and Sero seemed to have a thing about pushing Bakugou’s buttons, seemed to find it the funniest thing in the world to get a rise out of him, despite it not being particularly challenging to do.

“Hey guys!” Kirishima called over the noise. “How did you go on that math test?”

“Oh my gosh, it was the worst,” Midoriya whined, hurrying over to stand beside him. “Did we even learn all that stuff in class?! I thought I was caught up in all our subjects!”

Iida blinked, and suddenly Uraraka was over there too, chatting excitedly with Ashido as they pointed at something on their phones, their lunches all but forgotten about. He and Todoroki exchanged a look, neither of them sure exactly what to do, or where to go, but then Kirishima was waving at them, inviting them over to join in as Midoriya took a seat.

Only two spaces were left, unless Iida wanted to sit in the mud, and with a look of understanding that Iida didn’t even know he possessed, Todoroki gestured for him to sit down first.

In the spot right beside Bakugou.

“But in squares, you get more pieces out of one pizza, therefore you’re getting more pizza.”

“Right!” Sero nodded sincerely. “Why would you want eight triangles when you could have twelve squares? It makes no sense.”

“How the fuck did you two get into UA with that kind of math?!” Bakugou demanded. “It’s the same fucking pizza either way! You just end up with a bunch of shitty offcuts that don’t make squares anyway!”

“But Bakugou,” Kaminari began again, in a tone that dripped with pity. “If you make a square from a circle, the offcuts always add up to another square. Everyone knows that.”

“Do you even know what a shape is?! Have you seen a circle?!”

“Don’t mind him,” Sero said softly, patting Kaminari on the shoulder. “He thinks eight pieces of pizza is more than twelve.”

“Are you fucking kidding me?!”

Bakugou never seemed to notice the grins on their faces as Kaminari and Sero egged him on, always ready with some kind of intentionally ridiculous comment just to keep him angry, because if he stopped bothering to answer, they won.

It was actually kind of amusing to see how emphatic Bakugou got about it.

When Bakugou paused for a breath, Iida held out his box of fries, and Bakugou jumped. Apparently he’d been so invested in the argument that he hadn’t even noticed them sit down, and now, he just stared at him in silence, stunned.

“Want some?” Iida offered.

Bakugou paused a moment longer, then took a couple of fries silently, nodding his thanks. He stuffed them into his mouth, now more pouty than angry, and Iida just watched with a smile as he seemed to calm immediately, the argument forgotten in favour of food.

“Aww, look at that, poor thing was just hungry,” Kaminari teased. “No wonder he was confused about pizza math.”

Bakugou’s eyebrows knitted together, but Iida shook the box at him again lightly, and another fistful of fries kept him quiet. Honestly, Iida wondered why no one else used the same trick to calm him down – it had been working wonders for him now for weeks.

“I thought you made your own lunch,” Sero pointed out, nodding at Iida’s tray. “It’s not like you to buy your food!”

“I didn’t feel like making something last night,” Iida answered, with a soft smile. “Most days I try to be a little healthier, but sometimes it’s nice to just buy something easy.”

“Ain’t good for you,” Bakugou grumbled, through his mouthful of potato. “Shouldn’t eat that shit.”

“We’re allowed to treat ourselves sometimes!” Iida chuckled, ignoring exactly how hypocritical Bakugou was being – he knew his friends would give him enough shit about it later without Iida adding to the pile. “Everything in moderation, right?”

“Hmm.” Bakugou hummed faintly, sneaking another fry off the tray while Iida pretended not to notice. “I guess so.”

Despite his complaints, Bakugou looked surprisingly happy with his fries. There was something so soft about his face when he ate food he liked, devoid of all the scowls and bared teeth he used to try to make himself more intimidating. Iida had quickly learned that it was all just a carefully planned act, to cover up anything deeper or more vulnerable that he might be feeling – he refused to show even the smallest sign of weakness, and in some ways Iida envied that. He was a slave to his own emotions, while Bakugou chose the one that seemed the easiest to hide behind and let it be the only one he showed. It was genius, if a little sad.

Over the course of the lunchbreak, Bakugou gradually stole more than half of Iida’s fries. And by “stole”, of course, Iida meant that he left the box intentionally exposed, making a point of looking the other way a lot to let Bakugou “sneak” them off his tray. The few times he looked over and caught him in the process, when Bakugou gave him that wide-eyed look that was honestly kind of adorable, he just smiled and nudged them a little closer, making sure Bakugou knew that it was still okay, that he could continue to help himself.

Okay, so Iida was a little gone for the guy – so what? Sue him! It wasn’t his fault that Bakugou was so cute and entertaining!

Besides, he didn’t even like fries all that much. He’d had a craving for them one time, and had shared them with Bakugou who happened to be sitting next to him, and since then he’d been unable to resist the urge to pick up a pack on occasion. He didn’t dislike them, but they weren’t something he often longed for or craved. He’d certainly been ordering them a lot more often since that day, though, and he suspected maybe he appreciated them more since then, too.

It was always a little difficult to get back into class when their break ended. Not physically – they’d gotten pretty good at passing through the doors in an orderly manner since their first year – but mentally, and emotionally. He felt strangely out of it, like he was off in another world, and it always took a frankly ridiculous amount of time to actually focus his attention back on the schoolwork in front of him. He trudged through the classes like they were a pool of deep mud, so slow and heavy that sometimes it felt like he wasn’t moving at all, only broken up by the brief reprieve of glancing over at Bakugou as he worked.

He was lucky enough to sit a few rows behind Bakugou, and across the opposite side of the classroom, so it didn’t look too weird for his gaze to shift that way. He had to look across to see their teachers half the time, after all, and it wasn’t difficult to shift his eyes a little further, to see those fluffy blond spikes hunched over his workbooks, arm wrapped around his desk like his classmates might try to cheat off him. If anyone caught him, he could always say he wanted to look out the window for a minute, but so far no one had asked any questions.

Midoriya sat over there, too. Right at Bakugou’s back, where they occasionally leaned in to talk about something or pass papers around. If it had been anyone else, Iida would have been jealous, but Midoriya was one of his best friends. And one of Bakugou’s best friends, too. After all, how many people would have gotten away with calling him Kacchan all the time?

Iida wondered what kind of reaction it would get if he tried that.

When the bell finally rang for class to end, it startled him, jolting him out of some kind of reverie. While everyone else was packing their things away to escape for the night, Iida was still blinking at the clock, trying to put his soul back into his body. He needed to put his books away, needed to find the strength to walk, but the strange ache in his chest just didn’t seem to want to let him.

“Everything okay?” Uraraka asked, stopping beside his desk. “You’ve been a little weird all afternoon, are you not feeling well?”

“I’m quite alright!” Iida assured her quickly. “I think I may be a little tired, that’s all!”

“Well, let’s head back and you can get some rest, then,” she said with a smile, packing his books away in his bag for him. “I hear it was mail day, there are packages waiting for us! Have your parents sent anything?”

“Most likely,” he nodded, accepting the bag when she held it out. “My mother likes to send something every week. And yours?”

“Yeah! My mother likes sending me things, even if it’s just a letter.”

“That will be nice to read, I’m sure.”

“Let’s go check it out!”

She looped her arm through his, dragging him out of his chair, and he couldn’t help but shoot her a smile. Uraraka was always ready and waiting to cheer her friends up or get them involved in something fun, he’d always admired that about her.

“Yes, let’s,” he agreed. “We can share whatever food my mother picked for me this week.”

“Excellent!”

His eyes roamed as they walked back toward the dorms, but they never landed on the shock of blond hair or the glittering ruby eyes, he didn’t even pick up a hint of yelling in the distance, in that familiar voice. It was a little disconcerting, in all honesty. He’d gotten so used to having Bakugou around, it felt cold and quiet when he wasn’t.

“You’re so in love,” Uraraka teased, watching gleefully when Iida’s face burned red. “You’re always looking for him, smiling at him, trying to be close to him. It’s very cute!”

“I’m not in love with anyone!” Iida insisted, voice hushed lest anyone listen in. “I just... Enjoy his company.”

“Oh sweetie, no one enjoys his company.”

“Uraraka! Don’t be so mean!”

“See? Look at you, defending his honour.”

Iida gave her a pitiful look, and she chuckled again, patting him on the back lightly.

“It’s okay,” she assured him. “We all have our crushes, it happens! You’re a teenager!”

“Crushes?” Iida asked, the word tasting foreign on his tongue – was that what it was? He had a crush? He’d never thought he was the type of person who did that.

“Oh come on, you don’t have to deny it!” she giggled. “It’s cute, really, and I support you no matter what! Normally I’d say you should put yourself out there and tell him, but Bakugou might not be the best person to confess to.”

“Why not?”

“Well... You know what he’s like, he’d probably yell at you or something, and that wouldn’t be the nicest situation to get yourself into!”

“But he always yells at people.”

“Exactly. Are you considering it?”

“I don’t think so,” Iida shrugged. “I just enjoy his company, I like spending time with him.”

“That’s really sweet, Iida!”

“Is it?”

Uraraka just grinned at him, patting him on the back, and Iida shrugged it off rather than try to argue. As they approached the dorms, they saw the telltale signs of package deliveries – classmates carrying the heavier ones inside for each other, excited groups gathered around boxes beyond the windows, and the sounds of general excitement floating out through the open door. It was always the best part of their week, getting packages from home – mail only got sorted and delivered to their various dorms at the end of each week, and it had turned into sort of a miniature holiday for the students, sharing whatever their parents had sent in.

“There’s one for you, Iida!” Midoriya called, as soon as they stepped through the doorway. “It’s a big one!”

“Oh?”

“I brought it in for you! I got a letter from my mother, too! I know we talk every day, but letters are so much more fun!”

Uraraka followed Iida over, eager to see what he might produce, but Iida’s attention was quickly distracted by the pretty white box nestled under Todoroki’s arm, a familiar pouting face hovering near his shoulder.

“My sister was baking,” Todoroki explained, when he caught Iida staring. “She’s sent me some homemade cookies, I must remember to thank her.”

“That’s very sweet of her!” Iida smiled warmly. “Homemade treats are always special.”

Todoroki glanced back finally, spotting his little shadow, and with a completely impassive look on his face, he angled the box toward Bakugou slightly.

“Would you like one?” he offered knowingly.

“Thanks,” Bakugou grunted, snatching a particularly big, chocolate-laden one. “Fuyumi makes the best food.”

Iida wasn’t sure why that made his stomach churn, but for some reason it made him feel oddly nauseous. He felt a strange urge to stand in between them, to keep them further apart, and especially, to not let Bakugou visit Todoroki’s family anymore.

That last thought especially concerned him a lot. What was even happening to his brain?

“Would you like one?” Todoroki offered, holding the box out to Iida.

“Huh? Oh. Um, thank you, that’s very kind of you!”

Uraraka was already chowing down on one beside him, so Iida reached for one too, nodding his thanks again as he accepted. He really needed to get a better handle on his weird emotions.

“What about you, Iida?” Uraraka prompted, when they’d finished their cookies. “What did your parents send?”

“Oh, yes.”

He knelt down to open up his box, surprised to feel exactly how heavy it was when he turned it to reach the other side. Usually his parents sent a nice box of chocolates, or some artisan cheeses and a fancy salami to eat on crackers – once it had even been a range of gourmet potato chips in all sorts of interesting flavours – but he rarely got something so solid.

“With exams around the corner, you and your classmates probably aren’t eating very well,” he read aloud, from the note in the top of the box. “Please be sure to share this dinner around.”

“Aww, that’s so sweet!” Midoriya gushed. “Is that because you told them you’ve been sharing?”

“It must be,” he agreed. “They seemed quite surprised, I was worried I’d offended them. But they must approve after all.”

“What is it?” Uraraka pushed, nudging Iida in the ribs lightly. “Open it up!”

Beneath the note was an insulated carton, and he carefully lifted the lid off to take a look, staring blankly when he found two large cuts of meat inside. They were carefully wrapped, and covered in some sort of seasoning, with icepacks to keep them cool in transport, but... Well, Iida didn’t exactly know how to cook.

“What is it, losers?” Bakugou asked, curiosity getting the better of him as he nudged his way in. “Is it some weird, pretentious thing that no one- Oh shit, that’s a big roast.”

“Is it?” Iida asked, immediately feeling stupid for it when Bakugou raised an eyebrow at him. “I- I mean! I don’t know what size they-”

“You can’t cook,” Bakugou said flatly.

“No,” he admitted sheepishly. “I have no clue, I’ll have to look it up and give it a try.”

“I’ll do it,” Bakugou offered, stunning the entire room of people, who all turned to stare at him like he’d grown a second head – honestly, with all the weird quirks around, that might have been less shocking. “But you have to share with me.”

“Of course!” Iida agreed readily. “It’s only fair!”

Bakugou pulled the carton of beef out to move, and his face lit up when he saw the second box beneath it, full of fresh, colourful vegetables.

“Bring those,” he barked, covering his excitement quickly. “I’ll roast them too.”

“Thank you, Bakugou!”

“Whatever, Four-Eyes. I’m gonna eat so much of this shit.”

“Be my guest! Is there anything I can do to help?”

Bakugou glanced at him, eyes narrowing for a second, then quickly shook his head.

“Nope. Kitchen is mine now,” he said flatly. “Keep your asses out ‘til I’m done.”

“I’ll do my best to keep everyone away!”

Iida returned to the group, still a little stunned, but when Kaminari headed straight for the kitchen, he quickly snapped out of it.

“No!” he squawked, too late, as Kaminari innocently stepped beyond the counters, into the occupied confines of the designated kitchen area.

“What the fuck did I just say?!” Bakugou demanded, voice echoing, even over all the intersecting conversations around them. “Get out of my kitchen!”

“Your kitchen?” Kaminari huffed, backing off all the same. “I’m hungry.”

Yaoyorozu offered him an apple, from a basket of fresh fruit sent by her parents, and despite a little pout, Kaminari accepted with thanks. He sat down with a grumble, glaring at Bakugou as he took a bite, but it was short-lived as ever – Kaminari didn’t seem capable of holding a grudge.

For the rest of the night, while everyone shared their gifts, caught up on homework and TV shows, and just generally chatted in the common area, Iida kept his eyes on that kitchen. He couldn’t see much of what Bakugou was doing, but he got a clear view of him pottering around the area with a strange sense of peace in him, his scowl given away to just a faint hint of concentration in his brow, while no one else was paying enough attention to see it. It was fascinating, just watching him, seeing how clearly he was in his element, how confident he was about every move he made.

It was a good look on him.

Then again, most things were.

The entire class was salivating by the time Bakugou finished, the smells wafting out of the kitchen and through the entire rest of the building, drawing in a lot of extra observers long before it was on the table. If anyone dared to get near him, he still yelled at them to get the hell out, but he didn’t bother to complain at the small crowd hovering just outside of his personal bubble, waiting for the word. Finally, he barked a simple “food” at them all, and the whole floor trembled under the feet that sprinted to the dining area.

“Oi, nerds, take these,” he demanded, beginning to shove serving dishes across the counter. “Put them on the table so everyone can reach, or whatever.”

Iida and Midoriya leapt up to help, unaffected by the silly insult, but it took a moment longer for the others to catch on, to hurry over to join them. Between nineteen pairs of hands, the tables were soon laden with platters, the wood groaning under the weight of all the gorgeous food.

“Eat your vegetables,” Bakugou demanded, dropping the last bowl of roast potatoes right in front of Iida, in one of only a few clear spaces that still remained. “They’re healthy.”

“Of course, Bakugou!” Iida assured him, smiling fondly. “Thank you for all your hard work, this all looks incredible.”

“Whatever, it’s no big deal,” Bakugou shrugged, though his cheeks looked a little less pale than usual. “Start grabbing food, nerds. The rare stuff is on the left, well done on the right, so take your pick. Time to find out which of you are heathens.”

“Is this homemade gravy?” Kirishima asked, picking up a jug full of steaming liquid. “You really went all out!”

“You can’t have roast without gravy,” Bakugou huffed. “That’s just how it works.”

“Well, still! We appreciate all your work!”

Iida hung back for a moment, watching, but then Bakugou was shoving a dinner plate in his hand, glaring at him until he took a step closer. He supposed it was his gift from his parents, he didn’t need to be selfless, but it still felt strange to not wait until everyone else was finished.

“There’s broccoli and cauliflower there,” Bakugou informed him, pointing at a few scattered bowls. “and roast potatoes, carrots, pumpkin, and onions. They’re really good with the cheese sauce.”

“You made cheese sauce too?!” Sero squawked, immediately beginning the hunt for a jug of it. “I fucking love your cheese sauce!”

“It’s just cheese and milk, idiot,” Bakugou grumbled, despite clearly appreciating the praise. “Just eat it.”

Iida served himself out a hefty portion of everything, making sure he had plenty of both the cheese sauce and the gravy to go with it, and one by one their classmates drifted off to find spots to sit, away from the tables with no room left to actually eat at them. When Iida looked up again, Bakugou was gone, and it took a minute to spot him again – back in the kitchen, this time with a damp cloth in hand.

“Come get yours too,” he insisted, boldly taking Bakugou by the arm. “You spent so long cooking, I can do the dishes. I’ll get on it after we’ve eaten, I promise.”

“It’s all simple stuff,” Bakugou argued. “It’s nothing.”

“It’s not nothing! You spent hours on it, for all of us, and I really appreciate that! Now come get some food before it goes cold – or gets eaten.”

Grumbling something nonsensical, Bakugou let himself be dragged back to the food, watching with wide eyes as Iida began serving him up a generous portion.

“You don’t like pumpkin though, right?” he hummed, skipping over it before he even got a confirmation.

“Pumpkin is gross.”

“Well, thank you for cooking it for the rest of us! And how do you like your beef?”

“Uh. In the middle.”

“Oh, me too!” Iida nodded, picking out a few of the best looking slices and loading them onto the plate. “Sauces?”

Bakugou just nodded this time, and Iida carefully drizzled them onto the food, smiling as he offered Bakugou the finished plate.

“Did I miss anything? Do you want more of anything?”

“No. Um, thanks.”

“Any time!”

He picked his own plate back up, and together they joined their classmates in the living room area, seeking out somewhere to sit. To Iida’s surprise, Bakugou stayed beside him when he sat, and he couldn’t help but smile at the pouty look on his face.

“Your parents picked good meat,” Bakugou told him, before he’d even put a piece in his mouth.

“I’m glad!”

They managed to find a spot to sit on the floor, next to where Midoriya was happily babbling away to an equally-excited Ashido. They both smiled up at them in greeting, but their conversation didn’t cease for even a moment, and Bakugou huffed quietly as he leaned back against the wall, propping his plate up on his knees.

“You’re rambling, nerd,” Bakugou spoke up, before Iida got a chance to ask what was wrong. “Stop torturing Raccoon-Face with your voice.”

“Don’t be mean, Kacchan!” Midoriya huffed. “Her face is perfectly nice!”

“Thank you, Midoriya,” Ashido laughed. “I appreciate it.”

“Of course! Any time!”

Iida didn’t bother to get involved with their nonsense – half the time it seemed like Bakugou and Midoriya spoke a whole different language than the rest of them, and Iida could never quite tell if they were arguing or just being old friends. Besides, he wasn’t entirely sure whose side he was supposed to be on.

Instead, he cut off a piece of his roast beef, dipping it gently in the gravy before he put it in his mouth. He could feel the eyes on him, all rich and red like the strawberries Yaoyorozu had offered around while they waited for dinner, waiting to see his reaction, to earn his praise.

“Oh my god,” he gushed, without even trying. “This meat is delicious.”

“I know,” Bakugou said smugly. “It helps that it was a good cut. Try the potatoes.”

He reached his own fork out, nudging one on Iida’s plate, and Iida couldn’t help but obey. His knife slid through it with zero hesitation, slicing off a bite-sized piece, and with a quick swipe through the cheese sauce, he stuck it in his mouth.

Bakugou watched eagerly again, not even starting on his own plate, and Iida’s eyes widened as the potato landed on his tongue.

“Have you always been such a good cook?!” he demanded.

“When I have good ingredients,” Bakugou shrugged, a little modest, at least compared to his usual boasting. “The school is kinda shit with what they provide us.”

“I know,” Iida agreed solemnly. “My parents always ask what I want them to send in their care packages, and I just keep telling them food. The school stuff is fine and all, it’s just so simple, and sometimes I like some variety!”

“The idiotsquad eat bowls of white rice with ketchup on it. Nothing else, just rice and ketchup.”

“Uraraka does the same thing!” Iida laughed. “It’s disgusting! But then they all call me a food snob for thinking so!”

“My parents don’t cook shit,” Bakugou grimaced. “So I can’t even make them send me good stuff.”

“Well, you’re always welcome to share mine!”

He didn’t think it was necessary to point out that he’d started asking for food after he’d shared fries with Bakugou for the first time, nor that he’d offered Bakugou at least a little bit of everything they’d ever sent him. And he definitely didn’t need to point out that he wasn’t picky at all, that he would eat just about anything put in front of him – barring bowls of rice with nothing but ketchup for flavour.

“Thanks, I guess,” Bakugou shrugged, looking away quickly as his face flushed a little pink. “I can cook again, f’you want.”

“I’d love that!”

Bakugou finally started eating his own share of the food, with all the praises sung and the promises exchanged, and Iida smiled as he settled back into his own. They still talked a little between bites, Ashido and Midoriya quickly joining in when they moved on from whatever they’d been talking about prior, but soon their plates were clean and Iida was standing at a kitchen sink, feeling oddly nervous as his classmates stacked all the dishes beside him neatly.

“Lunch,” Bakugou grunted, as he shoved a container in the fridge with a familiar name on the top.

It was good of him to prioritise Iida for the leftovers, but there was no way Iida was going to finish them all himself.

“Thank you!” he beamed all the same. “And... You’ll share with me? Right?”

“Sure,” Bakugou shrugged, his cheeks skipping past pink and going straight to red. “I’ll help you with the dishes, make sure you do ‘em right.”

“Thank you, I appreciate the supervision!”

He’d been surprisingly quiet all night, Iida noticed. He suspected that was probably a good thing, since Bakugou really only seemed to have two modes – quiet or yelling. Yelling was generally the annoyed, angry, or embarrassed side. Which meant quiet was the content, maybe even happy side of him. As much as the yelling was a little endearing, he rather liked the quiet version.

When he glanced over, he found Bakugou already looking up at him, scrutinising his face. He couldn’t even bring himself to be embarrassed for looking, or nervous about what Bakugou might find in his face, he was simply far too busy being stunned by how tiny Bakugou looked next to him. He wasn’t sure they’d ever stood side by side before, at least not nearly as close, and while he’d known there was a bit of a size difference between them, the extent of it amazed him.

And it wasn’t even just his height. Sure, Bakugou hadn’t grown since their first year, and Iida had managed to tack on a good ten centimetres, leaving Bakugou’s fluffy spikes in prime position for affectionate head-kissing – not that he was thinking about that – but more importantly, he was so slim. He was muscular, sure – toned and well-defined, as anyone would be with Bakugou’s workout schedule – but his waist was the narrowest thing Iida had ever seen. His hands might have been bigger than Bakugou’s waist.

Oh, fuck, could he wrap his hands all the way around? He was pretty sure he could at least get close. He’d love to try it, just once, just to see how far he could actually get. He was pretty sure it would be the last thing he would ever do, but honestly, he’d have died happy.

The way he looked up, too, when he wanted to meet Iida’s eyes – rare as that was. There was just something so thrilling about seeing those eyes rise to meet his, being able to stare at those bright eyes and dark lashes without fear of repercussion for being a creep.

As the sink filled with hot water, Iida made a mental note to call Uraraka after they finished.

He had to tell her she’d been right.

[Part 2]