[ the silly thing about birds is that even if they can be a remarkably smart species like a raven, sometimes they can still be amazingly dumb. or gullible. or just plain fuck things up by eating things they’re not supposed to and that’s where the problem starts, with this one.
they've passed by ruinous scenes during their journey, villages burnt to cinders and ashes, kingdoms abandoned and still smoking or blackened. people, displaced and fleeing as well as animals and other species. desperate stories from survivors of the bird woman that appears in flame, wielding power over hell fire, torching lands indiscriminately and vowing to bring the coming of a second sun to earth. trade stops, war stops, everyday life as people know it stops as remaining surviving countries try frantically to pool resources and shelter refugees and find out what the hell they’re going to do. enchantresses scry into the raven's past and future, clerics and gnostics recalling folk legends of a bird that flies too high and devours the sun god, a harbinger black bird from hell that would destroy everything if undefeated by righteous heroes.
and that’s hopefully what they are. a party thrown together by circumstance and chance and desperation, for some, and deku’s leadership. gathered for the purpose to confront the raven and seal her away. and now they’re nearing close to the volcanic no-man’s-land the hell bird appears to call home, where sightings of her are most common, where they can hopefully stop her for good before the world goes up in flames.
the land is black and desolate, with few trees and dried rivers. they settle next to one such abandoned riverbed for the night, their large group splits up somewhat, whether it’s to plan or erect camp or even start making dinner for one last meal before they search for the sun bird tomorrow. bakugou can see deku consulting with iida and todoroki over a map, yaoyorozu talking with jirou while poring over a spellbook, kaminari and kirishima trying to lighten up the mood and chat with people and boost morale before the big fight, and...
he has no idea why he’s looking for one specific person, but--maybe there is a reason and he doesn’t really know how to admit it to himself, just yet. he looks for uraraka, wherever she is or however she might be preparing for their last night. ]
she's not exactly hiding, situated somewhere a bit quieter on the outskirts of the camp. her back's resting against the trunk of some dead tree, scribbling furiously into a thinning moleskine, convinced the worst thing about the end of the world is the finite amount of paper. near her feet are crumpled balls of parchment strewn about from when she'd managed to make use of the sun's dying light—all for naught, it seems. now, as the shadows stretch and night falls, her eyes squint futilely at her own handwriting.]
Mm... [comes her thoughtful hum, reverberating in her chest. for someone keenly aware that the continued existence of the world and all its inhabitants rides on a battle that's to begin in less than twenty-four hours, uraraka is strikingly composed. that, or effectively distracted.] Needs more oomph.
[at the same instant a frustrated sigh escapes her lips, uraraka's eyes flick up, away, and then up again, as if his presence hadn't quite registered the first time.]
[ his grin is sharp like a knife but somewhat lazily amused. ] Yeah, the fucking one and only. [ unfortunately enough. and he’s exactly the kind of obnoxious to try to steal that notebook, plucking it out of her hands so he could check it out like some nosy asshole.
magic isn’t his forte, though he uses one variant of offensive fire magic to explosive effect. and as far as he’s concerned, this brand of magic is all he needs. he's in this for the opportunity to roast a bird who thinks she could possibly out-firepower him and also because he has some higher resistance to heat. while the thinkers like deku and todoroki and iida are refining their plans for confrontation tomorrow... if it comes down to it, he’d hurl himself at the endboss with nothing but his bare hands and ruthlessness.
uraraka's homegrown magic is entirely different from his, but it’s what makes it fascinating. ]
[the fucking one and only. has she ever heard any truer words? she could search the world—or what's left of it—for someone as proud of each and every one of their sharp edges as bakugou, and she'd still come up empty-handed. ostensibly unbothered by the sudden loss of her journal, a giggle bubbles out, light and uncontainable, no different from an uncorked bottle of champagne.]
Well, [cheekily, uraraka stretches a gloved hand up, expectantly wiggling her fingers at him. what are you waiting for? pull her up!] that depends on your definition of a spell!
[because, if there's one thing she's learned from her travels, it's that a spell can be anything, so long as you harness its power and make it yours. at times, a whispered incantation; other times, a fluid dance around a pyre. for her, right now, it's a letter to her parents. the entire page is filled with more than filled to the brim with the brigand's escapades—including a battle with a certain "poultry woman" that hasn't even yet occurred.]
What do you think? I feel like the end kind of lacks... what's the word... impact? I was thinking of starting over.
[ his cocky stupid grin twitches at the sound of her laughter, the fuck is with that cutesy shit. here he is trying to be obnoxious and she finds it amusing?? what an asshole.
... but he does pull her up, basically without even thinking about it. ]
You’re writing a letter? [ all right, he actually takes a look at the thing, squints at it in the dimming light as evening falls, even as magma from far away still illuminates the horizon red. ] Damn this better not be a will or some morbid shit, like hell are we gonna lose. [ the possibility doesn’t even seem to occur to him as an option.
bakugou's name does come up often enough to make the casual reader raise an eyebrow. in her defense, it's not her fault he's always throwing himself into the thick of danger; it'd be a challenge to not mention him! her shoulder knocking against his, uraraka reaches over, trying to wrangle the notebook out of his clutches.]
If you don't like it, I can take you out entirely. Just give Todoroki or Deku the finishing blow.
[ INSTANTLY... BRISTLING... totally not predictably at all because them? get the glory of the finishing move?? yeah right!! ]
Oh please, like those assholes can stick it! [ ... no, they might as well have their heart in a better place or at least have more heroic conviction than him. which is no doubt why they're in discussion rather than bothering one of their party members like he is. ] I'm just gonna say if I'm in here, I'd... first of all, that's shady as hell. [ actually, the more he thinks about it it's kind of... embarrassing. ]
Second, you'd better be writing all good shit about me! [ time to speed read a little. ]
[when it becomes clear that bakugou has zero intention of returning the letter, not until he's had his chance to roam his eyes over its contents, uraraka falls back, sticking her tongue out at him.]
Don't worry, I made sure to leave out aaaaall the parts where you tried to use us as playthings for your dragon.
[the letter's long, an entire year's worth of getting in and out of trouble, gallivanting from village to village, country to country, trying to provide as much aid to the refugees as possible while simultaneously learning as much as they could about their fated battle—all condensed, front to back, on a single sheet of paper.
so. the letter's long, her writing's tiny, and it's all a hard-to-follow mess. especially that showdown she'd alluded to earlier. there's no small measure of optimism in the way its written; everyone gets a shot in, everyone leaves with only a few minor injuries, everyone lives to tell the tale.
it's fine, she tell herself, trying to ignore the sudden jump-start of nerves. it's just a draft, anyways.]
What do you think?
[the question's blurted out clumsily, as if uraraka hadn't been able to handle another second of trepidation.]
Oh hell... you coulda played harder with her if you didn't want to end up as charcoal. [ but the mention of the dragon prompts an almost-smirk, a fleeting one. even at the beginning he'd had the dragon by his side but even the beast left, less fleeing the hell bird's rampant destruction and more trying to find her own dragon flock and ensure their safety. something even bakugou realizes he had to let her go for, and the hope is that the dragons might be able to reunite and maybe regroup and come back to aid them in the final fight...
but the fight is tomorrow and so far the horizon is clear of any winged beasts coming to support them.
it's fine, he has the faith in himself and his own power to seize a victory regardless. but the feeling of missing his beast is there. he brushes it aside, actually frowns a little as he reads the letter more thoughtfully--a little nosier than he usually might be, but he really was curious about what uraraka was working on. she's pretty attached to her family, huh.
he remains quiet for a moment, then blinks back at her, almost like a little off guard by the question. ] What do I think?
I dunno... it's just a letter right? Not like you're trying to publish a book or something. [ he'd been quiet as if remembering their journey, the countries they've passed through and visited, people they've helped along the way. ] You want me to critique your letter or something?
[spongebob narrator voice] two years later..........
[one corner of her mouth hooks up, and uraraka looks almost amused for a second, until she realizes that she's not exactly sure what she wants from bakugou. she feels a little silly asking him in the first place. fire and brimstone could come raining down on them by the next morning, and she's worried about a letter she might not even be able to send? to her parents, who might not even be there to receive it? what the hell is she doing?]
I guess— [her voice rises out a little slow, a little stunted, so she clears her throat and tries again.] I guess I just wanted to know if my vision of tomorrow matches yours.
[for the first time since setting up camp, a shadow of doubt stretches over her face. the thought of tomorrow alone makes her body feel heavy, as if the entire sun's disappeared from the darkened sky, only to come bearing down on her chest, anchoring her. she wonders if the sensation's something she shares with any of the others.
maybe she merely wants something to fix her sights on, maybe she doesn't have what it takes right now to hold bakugou's gaze. either way, she gives their makeshift camp a once-over, her eyes softening as she watches kirishima and kaminari hook arms, swinging each other around in some half-formed danced. it's funny. surrounded by her stupidly brave companions, each and every one of them impudent or petulant in their own way, or else they wouldn't be here, she feels neither righteous nor a hero. just uraraka, scared of losing all this and more. just trying to make sense of it before what remains of their time hits the bottom of the hourglass.]
Don't laugh, okay? But, earlier, on the way here, I was having trouble picturing our victory. [she knows the way that sounds, especially to someone like bakugou, so before he can get a word in, uraraka hastily presses on.] So I started writing the letter to get my mind off of it, but then... it became something else. Like I was trying to convince myself that, since we made it through this battle and that ambush, we were going to be okay facing off against her one last time.
[she raises a shaky hand to top of her cowl, pulling it down so that it covers her eyes.]
[ the way he cocks his head in something like puzzlement is almost like some curious animal because--
yeah... that kind of doubt... it's rare to him, if it occurs to him at all. and if it does it might be something locked down into him, something that would might simmer until he explodes. but at this moment, genuinely, contrary to her-- ]
Yeah, I don't think about that shit. [ it's almost surreal or absurd, but he means it. trying to understand him would be some ordeal practically as crazy as going up against the hell bird... ] Whether we win or lose... I mean fuck, the only thing I'm gonna do is win. [ that's always been his modus operandi, that drive for victory practically etched into every part of him that he'd practically totally disregard the idea of loss like this, it almost completely doesn't occur to him. he leans in towards her with the crooked grin of some madman who could face possibly certain death of being burnt to a crisp and laugh in the face of it. ]
You're that worried about it? [ this look on her face almost fascinates him. at times he's like a beast who can practically sniff out weakness or insecurity, a beast that only occasionally learns empathy. ] What's the worst that can happen. We get fucking painfully incinerated and then she burns the rest of the world alive... what, are you thinking about that instead? [ if she wasn't then, how about now?? ]
not for the first time since accepting him into their ranks, uraraka's thinking he's incurably insane.
she's also thinking that there's something decidedly predestined in the cut of his grin, as if he's already divined his own triumph, and the only thing he has to do is what he's always done. wake up in the morning and hit the ground running. leave everyone gaping, breathing in all the dust and smoke he kicks up on his victory march.
it's an enticing vision. she'd submit to it if one thing weren't gnawing on the back of her mind.]
You know, to most people, the thought of dying's pretty scary. [uraraka's eyes flicker up, catching his. up close, bakugou's face is all harsh lines and sharp angles. her fingers twitch by her side, like all she wants to do is lift her hand to his face, try to iron every crease out.
she doesn't, though. she doesn't move an inch, even with the way he crowds into her. that's the thing with wild creatures, right? you can't make any sudden movements. otherwise they'll tail it, or take the opportunity to strike out.]
But I think what scares me more is that we do win, just not with everyone by our side.
[there it is. the moment the words leave her mouth, she feels bad, she feels terrible, like she should have more faith in her friends. they've burned through the map, lending aid and saving each other more times than she can count; they're all capable warriors. it's... just...]
Edited (changed.. a line... wheezes) 2019-03-30 20:26 (UTC)
[ she only now suspects that?? the singlemindedness and focus on victory above all else where the possibility of loss is almost a non-issue is...
probably definitely crazy especially when there's so much at stake. but it's how he's always lived. ] What, you think dying is scary? [ in a tone of voice almost like it's just now occuring to him... ] I mean... hell, I guess so. [ he SUPPOSES. ] I just gotta say anyone bad enough to think they can kill me can just try their worst. [ he sure as hell wouldn't make it easy for them. maybe some hell god emissary raven could fire sunball comets at him and it'd hit and in the crater of his grave he'd reluctantly admit, all right, maybe she's decent at this whole... combat... murder thing. just maybe.
his eyes don't leave hers, but even thinking about the battle awaiting them has something of that berserker's bloodlust simmering in him, his red glare, the cut of his grin. ]
If someone doesn't make it out of this alive maybe they just aren't tough enough.
[ but the way he looks at her is somewhat calculated--sure, he has respect enough for his comrades, his frie... ends... fine, maybe he can call them that. and yet when it comes down to it either they'll cut it or they won't. ]
[the words come leaping out of her mouth and into the open air before she even has time to think on or reconsider what she's saying to whom.
her friends are strong, stronger than the steel of any sword or the force of any spell. strong, even now, laughing as they stand on the cusp of the end of a journey none of them ever wanted to have any part of. sometimes this knowledge feels truer than her own name. but when they were moving past the ash lingering in the air, past the charred bodies left on the wayside, had it truly been strength that kept them from faltering or—each other?
her face pinches from the effort it takes to keep her voice steady and unshaken, her lips thin and absent of their usual mirth.]
None of us are strong enough alone, that's why we're going in together in the first place. If someone's weak in the moment, we make up for it. We have to.
[ part of him isn't sure if she'd try to call him out on his shit or not, part of him still remembers her as a rather hesitant mage way back when, even if she'd been one of the first members of deku's party it'd taken countless battles and the journey for her to grow in confidence. he'd observed it just vaguely from the other side as their opponent, then closer once he'd finally deigned to join and when they'd fought alongside each other.
she's not wrong but hell if he might admit she's right. that and also despite everything, 'none of us are strong enough alone'--that still ruffles against his pride, it shows as he bristles a little almost like an offended cat. ] If anyone's weak in the moment, it's not gonna be me. [ that's all he'll say. even if he might have grown closer to everyone in the party he might still be loath to try to save anyone unlike deku and his little core party of bleeding hearts.
he pats her letter against her chest, a shove like a challenge but with the absence of his usual cocky grin. ]
Just believe in your own strength. Everyone here better do that because if you start worrying now if you're not strong enough, you might not be. [ here at this moment near the endgame--as far as he's concerned, it's far too late to fear or double-guess now. he'd rather never start, in his entire life. ]
[uraraka's ready for an outburst, a harsh rebuttal calling her foolish or blind, so when it never comes, she stares. first, at the leather cover of her journal, then at the hand connected to it, keeping it in place against her chest. her gaze travels past the length of his arm, the slope of his shoulders, until they find his eyes, red and so alight with certainty any protest dies prematurely in her throat.]
Al— [embarrassingly, her voice cracks mid-syllable, but she presses on and tries again, even as pink starts to dust her cheeks. this time, with her chin lifted, meeting his challenge halfway.] Alright.
[her reply comes out in an exhale of a breath she hadn't been aware she was holding. it's stabilizing, and freeing, and regardless of the way fear still simmers low in the vat of her gut, threatening to spill over at any moment, she feels better knowing that bakugou thinks that she has a strength in her that's worth believing in.
closing a hand over the spine of the notebook, uraraka gently tugs it out of his grasp, smiling faintly all the while. no need for anymore letters.]
Geez, I didn't think you were in the business of giving pep talks...
[ his eyebrow twitches... almost instantly the idea that he'd do something remotely nice offends him. ] Pep talks? You wanna die? I'll fucking beat you to a motivational puddle of blood if you want it that bad! [ what?? she thinks he was trying to support her or something? yeah fucking right!! ] Come on Round Face, if you got time to write letters and shit and you're worried or whatever we can fucking train and spar until you're begging for death--!
[ maybe he can't even stop shittalking if his life depends on it.
but he wouldn't even admit that the witch's small smile practically kicks his pulse in... fury. gross. who smiles at him, that's practically an instant cause for murder right there. yes, this is a great plan. she seems more cheerful, all the better to crush her if she's in a better mood now. ]
[mostly desensitized to the filth that comes spewing from bakugou's mouth on the daily, uraraka listens along, even humming appreciatively at motivational puddle of blood—that's a new one! he's getting more imaginative with his threats...]
We can spar if you really want to. Probably not to the death, but... as long as it's light.
[she cuts into his diatribe without a moment's hesitation, flexing the fingers of her dominant hand, the one she uses to hold her mage's staff. for a second, unfocused, naked magic swirls there at her fingertips, an old friend, before she extinguishes it with a close of her fist. truthfully, she's not sure if fitting in some last minute training is all that great of an idea. they're supposed to be conserving their energy, not burning through it like lamp oil.
but he'd listened to her silly insecurities, watched her doubt herself without judgment. she'd repay him in kind, even if it meant making the upwards trek to the hellbird's nest a bit more tiring.]
Edited (takes out.. unnecessary em dash.. my kryptonite) 2019-04-25 06:13 (UTC)
[ it's the night before the fight so almost everybody would still be deep in preparations, with people like deku and iida outlining strategies and yaoyorozu still creating last-minute spells and--
bakugou prepares and vents in this way, physically, it's what he does best. and in the past he'd spar with kirishima most often, deku a little more once they'd made up--questionably. and then a little more recently, uraraka who proved to hold her own surprisingly well for being a mage. it keeps him on his toes, it's different from the brawling and weapons-based combat kirishima and deku would give him. where once he'd mostly ignore her now he finds--it's surprisingly fun facing off against her.
but he'll just keep that a secret for both of them.
the next day they rouse early; there aren't any particular witness reports of the sun bird being an early riser with the sunrise, but most attacks on countries and cities and heartland occurs later in the day when the sun is at its apex and hottest and amplifies her power.
today at dawn the silhouette of the sun bird can be seen poised at the top of a cliff in the blackened scorched highlands, her head tilted to the sun as if absorbing rays and heat. yaoyorozu is the one who's come up with the master plan to incapacitate her; as the bird enshrines the sun god it's uncertain if she could be killed or what the consequence would be.
she and uraraka are the magicians of the party and she spends the whole journey and study back in her home country to craft an enchantment to capture and seal the sun bird away, to prevent any more destruction but not destroy her just in case.
in the early morning she pulls uraraka aside to press an enchanted golden rope, thin and seemingly delicate--'if you have the opportunity, try to put this over her head or neck,'--it would paralyze or incapacitate her enough for her to complete the sealing spell. trusting uraraka with it when she's the only one who could possibly try to secure it on the bird while she's in the air. deku gathers other fighters to his side, bakugou reluctantly included, going over his own plan to try to approach and attack the boss, weaken her to the point that yaoyorozu could complete her capture spell. ]
Edited (I JUST REALIZED i misspelled rope smh) 2019-04-30 17:34 (UTC)
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no subject
they've passed by ruinous scenes during their journey, villages burnt to cinders and ashes, kingdoms abandoned and still smoking or blackened. people, displaced and fleeing as well as animals and other species. desperate stories from survivors of the bird woman that appears in flame, wielding power over hell fire, torching lands indiscriminately and vowing to bring the coming of a second sun to earth. trade stops, war stops, everyday life as people know it stops as remaining surviving countries try frantically to pool resources and shelter refugees and find out what the hell they’re going to do. enchantresses scry into the raven's past and future, clerics and gnostics recalling folk legends of a bird that flies too high and devours the sun god, a harbinger black bird from hell that would destroy everything if undefeated by righteous heroes.
and that’s hopefully what they are. a party thrown together by circumstance and chance and desperation, for some, and deku’s leadership. gathered for the purpose to confront the raven and seal her away. and now they’re nearing close to the volcanic no-man’s-land the hell bird appears to call home, where sightings of her are most common, where they can hopefully stop her for good before the world goes up in flames.
the land is black and desolate, with few trees and dried rivers. they settle next to one such abandoned riverbed for the night, their large group splits up somewhat, whether it’s to plan or erect camp or even start making dinner for one last meal before they search for the sun bird tomorrow. bakugou can see deku consulting with iida and todoroki over a map, yaoyorozu talking with jirou while poring over a spellbook, kaminari and kirishima trying to lighten up the mood and chat with people and boost morale before the big fight, and...
he has no idea why he’s looking for one specific person, but--maybe there is a reason and he doesn’t really know how to admit it to himself, just yet. he looks for uraraka, wherever she is or however she might be preparing for their last night. ]
no subject
she's not exactly hiding, situated somewhere a bit quieter on the outskirts of the camp. her back's resting against the trunk of some dead tree, scribbling furiously into a thinning moleskine, convinced the worst thing about the end of the world is the finite amount of paper. near her feet are crumpled balls of parchment strewn about from when she'd managed to make use of the sun's dying light—all for naught, it seems. now, as the shadows stretch and night falls, her eyes squint futilely at her own handwriting.]
Mm... [comes her thoughtful hum, reverberating in her chest. for someone keenly aware that the continued existence of the world and all its inhabitants rides on a battle that's to begin in less than twenty-four hours, uraraka is strikingly composed. that, or effectively distracted.] Needs more oomph.
[at the same instant a frustrated sigh escapes her lips, uraraka's eyes flick up, away, and then up again, as if his presence hadn't quite registered the first time.]
Huh? Bakugou?
no subject
magic isn’t his forte, though he uses one variant of offensive fire magic to explosive effect. and as far as he’s concerned, this brand of magic is all he needs. he's in this for the opportunity to roast a bird who thinks she could possibly out-firepower him and also because he has some higher resistance to heat. while the thinkers like deku and todoroki and iida are refining their plans for confrontation tomorrow... if it comes down to it, he’d hurl himself at the endboss with nothing but his bare hands and ruthlessness.
uraraka's homegrown magic is entirely different from his, but it’s what makes it fascinating. ]
You’re making some last-minute spell?
no subject
Well, [cheekily, uraraka stretches a gloved hand up, expectantly wiggling her fingers at him. what are you waiting for? pull her up!] that depends on your definition of a spell!
[because, if there's one thing she's learned from her travels, it's that a spell can be anything, so long as you harness its power and make it yours. at times, a whispered incantation; other times, a fluid dance around a pyre. for her, right now, it's a letter to her parents. the entire page is filled with more than filled to the brim with the brigand's escapades—including a battle with a certain "poultry woman" that hasn't even yet occurred.]
What do you think? I feel like the end kind of lacks... what's the word... impact? I was thinking of starting over.
no subject
... but he does pull her up, basically without even thinking about it. ]
You’re writing a letter? [ all right, he actually takes a look at the thing, squints at it in the dimming light as evening falls, even as magma from far away still illuminates the horizon red. ] Damn this better not be a will or some morbid shit, like hell are we gonna lose. [ the possibility doesn’t even seem to occur to him as an option.
... this letter though. ]
Are you writing about me?
no subject
bakugou's name does come up often enough to make the casual reader raise an eyebrow. in her defense, it's not her fault he's always throwing himself into the thick of danger; it'd be a challenge to not mention him! her shoulder knocking against his, uraraka reaches over, trying to wrangle the notebook out of his clutches.]
If you don't like it, I can take you out entirely. Just give Todoroki or Deku the finishing blow.
no subject
Oh please, like those assholes can stick it! [ ... no, they might as well have their heart in a better place or at least have more heroic conviction than him. which is no doubt why they're in discussion rather than bothering one of their party members like he is. ] I'm just gonna say if I'm in here, I'd... first of all, that's shady as hell. [ actually, the more he thinks about it it's kind of... embarrassing. ]
Second, you'd better be writing all good shit about me! [ time to speed read a little. ]
1/2
Don't worry, I made sure to leave out aaaaall the parts where you tried to use us as playthings for your dragon.
2/2
so. the letter's long, her writing's tiny, and it's all a hard-to-follow mess. especially that showdown she'd alluded to earlier. there's no small measure of optimism in the way its written; everyone gets a shot in, everyone leaves with only a few minor injuries, everyone lives to tell the tale.
it's fine, she tell herself, trying to ignore the sudden jump-start of nerves. it's just a draft, anyways.]
What do you think?
[the question's blurted out clumsily, as if uraraka hadn't been able to handle another second of trepidation.]
no subject
but the fight is tomorrow and so far the horizon is clear of any winged beasts coming to support them.
it's fine, he has the faith in himself and his own power to seize a victory regardless. but the feeling of missing his beast is there. he brushes it aside, actually frowns a little as he reads the letter more thoughtfully--a little nosier than he usually might be, but he really was curious about what uraraka was working on. she's pretty attached to her family, huh.
he remains quiet for a moment, then blinks back at her, almost like a little off guard by the question. ] What do I think?
I dunno... it's just a letter right? Not like you're trying to publish a book or something. [ he'd been quiet as if remembering their journey, the countries they've passed through and visited, people they've helped along the way. ] You want me to critique your letter or something?
[spongebob narrator voice] two years later..........
[one corner of her mouth hooks up, and uraraka looks almost amused for a second, until she realizes that she's not exactly sure what she wants from bakugou. she feels a little silly asking him in the first place. fire and brimstone could come raining down on them by the next morning, and she's worried about a letter she might not even be able to send? to her parents, who might not even be there to receive it? what the hell is she doing?]
I guess— [her voice rises out a little slow, a little stunted, so she clears her throat and tries again.] I guess I just wanted to know if my vision of tomorrow matches yours.
[for the first time since setting up camp, a shadow of doubt stretches over her face. the thought of tomorrow alone makes her body feel heavy, as if the entire sun's disappeared from the darkened sky, only to come bearing down on her chest, anchoring her. she wonders if the sensation's something she shares with any of the others.
maybe she merely wants something to fix her sights on, maybe she doesn't have what it takes right now to hold bakugou's gaze. either way, she gives their makeshift camp a once-over, her eyes softening as she watches kirishima and kaminari hook arms, swinging each other around in some half-formed danced. it's funny. surrounded by her stupidly brave companions, each and every one of them impudent or petulant in their own way, or else they wouldn't be here, she feels neither righteous nor a hero. just uraraka, scared of losing all this and more. just trying to make sense of it before what remains of their time hits the bottom of the hourglass.]
Don't laugh, okay? But, earlier, on the way here, I was having trouble picturing our victory. [she knows the way that sounds, especially to someone like bakugou, so before he can get a word in, uraraka hastily presses on.] So I started writing the letter to get my mind off of it, but then... it became something else. Like I was trying to convince myself that, since we made it through this battle and that ambush, we were going to be okay facing off against her one last time.
[she raises a shaky hand to top of her cowl, pulling it down so that it covers her eyes.]
But I don't know.
200 yrs even later...
yeah... that kind of doubt... it's rare to him, if it occurs to him at all. and if it does it might be something locked down into him, something that would might simmer until he explodes. but at this moment, genuinely, contrary to her-- ]
Yeah, I don't think about that shit. [ it's almost surreal or absurd, but he means it. trying to understand him would be some ordeal practically as crazy as going up against the hell bird... ] Whether we win or lose... I mean fuck, the only thing I'm gonna do is win. [ that's always been his modus operandi, that drive for victory practically etched into every part of him that he'd practically totally disregard the idea of loss like this, it almost completely doesn't occur to him. he leans in towards her with the crooked grin of some madman who could face possibly certain death of being burnt to a crisp and laugh in the face of it. ]
You're that worried about it? [ this look on her face almost fascinates him. at times he's like a beast who can practically sniff out weakness or insecurity, a beast that only occasionally learns empathy. ] What's the worst that can happen. We get fucking painfully incinerated and then she burns the rest of the world alive... what, are you thinking about that instead? [ if she wasn't then, how about now?? ]
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not for the first time since accepting him into their ranks, uraraka's thinking he's incurably insane.
she's also thinking that there's something decidedly predestined in the cut of his grin, as if he's already divined his own triumph, and the only thing he has to do is what he's always done. wake up in the morning and hit the ground running. leave everyone gaping, breathing in all the dust and smoke he kicks up on his victory march.
it's an enticing vision. she'd submit to it if one thing weren't gnawing on the back of her mind.]
You know, to most people, the thought of dying's pretty scary. [uraraka's eyes flicker up, catching his. up close, bakugou's face is all harsh lines and sharp angles. her fingers twitch by her side, like all she wants to do is lift her hand to his face, try to iron every crease out.
she doesn't, though. she doesn't move an inch, even with the way he crowds into her. that's the thing with wild creatures, right? you can't make any sudden movements. otherwise they'll tail it, or take the opportunity to strike out.]
But I think what scares me more is that we do win, just not with everyone by our side.
[there it is. the moment the words leave her mouth, she feels bad, she feels terrible, like she should have more faith in her friends. they've burned through the map, lending aid and saving each other more times than she can count; they're all capable warriors. it's... just...]
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probably definitely crazy especially when there's so much at stake. but it's how he's always lived. ] What, you think dying is scary? [ in a tone of voice almost like it's just now occuring to him... ] I mean... hell, I guess so. [ he SUPPOSES. ] I just gotta say anyone bad enough to think they can kill me can just try their worst. [ he sure as hell wouldn't make it easy for them. maybe some hell god emissary raven could fire sunball comets at him and it'd hit and in the crater of his grave he'd reluctantly admit, all right, maybe she's decent at this whole... combat... murder thing. just maybe.
his eyes don't leave hers, but even thinking about the battle awaiting them has something of that berserker's bloodlust simmering in him, his red glare, the cut of his grin. ]
If someone doesn't make it out of this alive maybe they just aren't tough enough.
[ but the way he looks at her is somewhat calculated--sure, he has respect enough for his comrades, his frie... ends... fine, maybe he can call them that. and yet when it comes down to it either they'll cut it or they won't. ]
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[the words come leaping out of her mouth and into the open air before she even has time to think on or reconsider what she's saying to whom.
her friends are strong, stronger than the steel of any sword or the force of any spell. strong, even now, laughing as they stand on the cusp of the end of a journey none of them ever wanted to have any part of. sometimes this knowledge feels truer than her own name. but when they were moving past the ash lingering in the air, past the charred bodies left on the wayside, had it truly been strength that kept them from faltering or—each other?
her face pinches from the effort it takes to keep her voice steady and unshaken, her lips thin and absent of their usual mirth.]
None of us are strong enough alone, that's why we're going in together in the first place. If someone's weak in the moment, we make up for it. We have to.
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she's not wrong but hell if he might admit she's right. that and also despite everything, 'none of us are strong enough alone'--that still ruffles against his pride, it shows as he bristles a little almost like an offended cat. ] If anyone's weak in the moment, it's not gonna be me. [ that's all he'll say. even if he might have grown closer to everyone in the party he might still be loath to try to save anyone unlike deku and his little core party of bleeding hearts.
he pats her letter against her chest, a shove like a challenge but with the absence of his usual cocky grin. ]
Just believe in your own strength. Everyone here better do that because if you start worrying now if you're not strong enough, you might not be. [ here at this moment near the endgame--as far as he's concerned, it's far too late to fear or double-guess now. he'd rather never start, in his entire life. ]
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Al— [embarrassingly, her voice cracks mid-syllable, but she presses on and tries again, even as pink starts to dust her cheeks. this time, with her chin lifted, meeting his challenge halfway.] Alright.
[her reply comes out in an exhale of a breath she hadn't been aware she was holding. it's stabilizing, and freeing, and regardless of the way fear still simmers low in the vat of her gut, threatening to spill over at any moment, she feels better knowing that bakugou thinks that she has a strength in her that's worth believing in.
closing a hand over the spine of the notebook, uraraka gently tugs it out of his grasp, smiling faintly all the while. no need for anymore letters.]
Geez, I didn't think you were in the business of giving pep talks...
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[ maybe he can't even stop shittalking if his life depends on it.
but he wouldn't even admit that the witch's small smile practically kicks his pulse in... fury. gross. who smiles at him, that's practically an instant cause for murder right there. yes, this is a great plan. she seems more cheerful, all the better to crush her if she's in a better mood now. ]
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We can spar if you really want to. Probably not to the death, but... as long as it's light.
[she cuts into his diatribe without a moment's hesitation, flexing the fingers of her dominant hand, the one she uses to hold her mage's staff. for a second, unfocused, naked magic swirls there at her fingertips, an old friend, before she extinguishes it with a close of her fist. truthfully, she's not sure if fitting in some last minute training is all that great of an idea. they're supposed to be conserving their energy, not burning through it like lamp oil.
but he'd listened to her silly insecurities, watched her doubt herself without judgment. she'd repay him in kind, even if it meant making the upwards trek to the hellbird's nest a bit more tiring.]
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bakugou prepares and vents in this way, physically, it's what he does best. and in the past he'd spar with kirishima most often, deku a little more once they'd made up--questionably. and then a little more recently, uraraka who proved to hold her own surprisingly well for being a mage. it keeps him on his toes, it's different from the brawling and weapons-based combat kirishima and deku would give him. where once he'd mostly ignore her now he finds--it's surprisingly fun facing off against her.
but he'll just keep that a secret for both of them.
the next day they rouse early; there aren't any particular witness reports of the sun bird being an early riser with the sunrise, but most attacks on countries and cities and heartland occurs later in the day when the sun is at its apex and hottest and amplifies her power.
today at dawn the silhouette of the sun bird can be seen poised at the top of a cliff in the blackened scorched highlands, her head tilted to the sun as if absorbing rays and heat. yaoyorozu is the one who's come up with the master plan to incapacitate her; as the bird enshrines the sun god it's uncertain if she could be killed or what the consequence would be.
she and uraraka are the magicians of the party and she spends the whole journey and study back in her home country to craft an enchantment to capture and seal the sun bird away, to prevent any more destruction but not destroy her just in case.
in the early morning she pulls uraraka aside to press an enchanted golden rope, thin and seemingly delicate--'if you have the opportunity, try to put this over her head or neck,'--it would paralyze or incapacitate her enough for her to complete the sealing spell. trusting uraraka with it when she's the only one who could possibly try to secure it on the bird while she's in the air. deku gathers other fighters to his side, bakugou reluctantly included, going over his own plan to try to approach and attack the boss, weaken her to the point that yaoyorozu could complete her capture spell. ]