Chapter Text
“Thanks for walking me home, Deku.”
“Oh, um, you don’t have to thank me, Uraraka,” Izuku said, awkwardly scratching the back of his neck. “It’s just, it’s late, and this city isn’t exactly the safest place ever...”
Ochako smiled. His concern for her was always touching.
The duo was walking down the sidewalk, taking the back road to Ochako’s family home after a day of school at the U.A. They were still in their school uniforms, with their backpacks over their shoulders.
“It’s pretty cloudy tonight, don’t you think?” Ochako observed, putting out her hand. “I wonder if it’s gonna rain.”
Izuku looked up at the sky, and then back at the ground. “Maybe,” he said. “But hopefully we can make it home before that happens.”
Ochako nodded. They were passing a couple of run-down buildings with dark alleys nestled between them, and Ochako was thinking about what she’d do differently during training tomorrow at school, when—
“Uraraka! Watch out!”
Izuku dove suddenly, collided with her, and the two hit the ground. Almost immediately, a long, silver something swooped over their heads, missing them by mere inches.
It took Ochako a total of two seconds before she realized it was a sword. A long, silver, real sword , like something out of a fantasy book. Ochako knew that, if Izuku hadn’t noticed, it would have taken their heads clean off.
“My, my, what trooooublesome little braaaaats…”
It was a hollow and sing-song voice, carrying through the chilly night air and sending an icy shiver down Ochako’s spine. The voice echoed in the alley and resounded through her head far after the speaker’s voice faded. She and Izuku got to their feet again, more on-guard than ever before in their lives.
Then, the villain stepped into the streetlight.
It was a man, tall and lanky with black hair, thin skin as white as death itself, and gleaming, red eyes. He was dressed in a solid black, fine-looking business suit and had a sword in one bony, pale hand; his other hand was empty, but deformed, like it’d been crushed and healed wrong somewhere along the line.
“A villain.” Ochako said it, even though it was obvious. Izuku nodded, though, in further confirmation. Ochako noticed him shift his feet into a stance she saw him take up often: a combat stance.
The villain tilted his head sideways, a curtain of greasy black hair obscuring the left half of his pale, drawn face. Every bone in his body was very prominent, almost like he was a walking corpse that’d already been dead for weeks. Even his voice sounded empty and inhuman.
“Victims that fight back…” the man drawled in that same hollow, dead but eerily sing-song tone, “have to be the woooorst and most anoooying of them all…”
And suddenly, his arm extended until it was five times its usual length, and Izuku and Ochako were ducking beneath his sword again.
Does he have an elastic body? Is that his Quirk? Ochako’s mind was reeling, searching frantically for answers. Judging by the look on his face, that’s probably what Deku’s thinking, too…
The man’s arm retracted once again, and Ochako was hit by the sudden realization that running wasn’t an option. If the man really did have an elastic body, with an elastic sword-arm, then turning their back on him for an instant would be fatal.
Which left only one alternative.
Izuku put up his hands and shifted his weight, biting his lip. Ochako’s knees were knocking together, but she, too, prepared herself, mentally and physically.
There were going to fight. And if they didn’t win, it meant death.
“You think you can beat meeeeee?” the villain sang softly, taking a step forward on his long, bony legs; Ochako and Izuku, in turn, took a step backwards. “Children from the U.A. really are troooooublesome…”
Izuku pulled back his fist, but the villain met them head-on before he had the chance to actually do anything.
His sword went towards them, and Ochako and Izuku dove in opposite directions. All the while, Ochako’s mind was spinning. They were heroes. In training, granted, but heroes nonetheless. They’d fought against an abundance of villains, most much scarier than this one, at the battle of the USJ.
They could take him.
The villain swung both arms at once; the sword arm towards Ochako and the deformed arm towards Izuku. Ochako ducked and put her hands in front of her face; the sword met resistance in the alley wall, and a half a dozen bricks tumbled to the floor, one of which landed promptly on Ochako’s ankle.
Something twisted and snapped, and she shrieked in pain.
“Uraraka!”
Oh, that was Izuku. Ochako pushed herself up, trying to ignore the pain though it was easily overcoming the rest of her senses. Once she was on her knees, she shoved the brick off her foot and looked up. She couldn’t see anything; there was a very fine screen of dust from where the building had been damaged, and her eyes were stinging.
Deku, Deku, where’s Deku...wait, where’s the villain? The villain, the villain, where’s the villain—
“Say good byeeeee , troublesome hero…”
And suddenly the villain was right in her face, and his sword arm was pulled back, poised to strike.
Ochako’s mind went blank as she stared into this monster’s cold, dead eyes. For a brief moment—and only for a brief moment—she wondered why . She didn’t understand how someone with power would use it like this , to kill instead of to protect…
The world faded around her, and her line of sight gradually narrowed until all she could see was this monster and his deadly weapon.
Is this…
...How I die?
The sword came at her, and she shut her eyes, bracing herself for the feeling of metal in her flesh.
But it never came.
A sickening sound; a splatter of something warm on her cheek; a sudden inhale of breath.
And she opened her eyes.
There was Izuku, standing just in front of where she was crouching, the silver, bloody blade of the villain protruding from his back.
Ochako’s breath caught in her throat. Her eyes went wide, wider than they’d ever gone in her life, and horror—pure, unbridled horror —completely overcame her.
“DEKU!!” It was more of a guttural scream than actual word. The villain retracted his blade, and Izuku hit the ground like a stone.
Ochako was frozen in place, her breath coming in great, heaving gasps—and then, before she was aware of what was happening, she’d scrambled to Izuku’s side and grabbed his shoulder.
“D-Deku,” she said desperately; he was lying on his side, but she didn’t dare move him. “Deku, n-no, Deku... ”
She didn’t know what to say, let alone do . Her tongue felt too thick for her mouth, and she was numb with the mere terror of this situation. Izuku’s eyes were squeezed shut, and he gasped in sharp, shaky breaths from between gritted teeth. Blood pooled beneath him; Ochako felt it, hot and sticky on her knees.
And she was suddenly very, very scared.
More scared than she’d ever been in her life, and she’d been through a lot of scary stuff.
This was scarier than the battle of the USJ. Much, much, much scarier .
“Oh, I believe I understand it nooooow,” the villain droned; Ochako ignored him, her hands grasping Izuku’s shoulder tightly. “Your friend...he’s the sacrificial type, isn’t heeee? What a waaaaaste…”
“Deku, D-Deku , please, please talk to me…”
And when he didn’t— couldn’t —Ochako began to sob.
“Don’t worry about your ffrieeeend,” the villain sang softly— inhumanely . “His pain will end soooooon…”
“I-It’s going to be okay, D-Deku…” Ochako said the only thing she could, because what else was she supposed to do? The villain wasn’t coming at her anymore; instead, he simply stood back, almost like…
... Almost like he was waiting for Izuku to bleed out .
And now that Ochako actually stopped to think about it…
...He was.
“U-Uraraka…”
Izuku’s voice came, shakily and guttural, and he coughed wetly, adding more blood to the puddle on the ground.
“P-Please d-don’t,” Ochako pleaded, shaking her head feverishly. “P-Please d-don’t speak, it’s...it’s going to be okay. I-It’ll be o-okay…”
“Hmm, I wonder,” the villain cocked his head to one side again, “how it feeeels to lie to your frieeeend…”
“U-Ura-raka,” Deku choked again.
“S-Stop,” Ochako begged. “P-Please s-stop, Deku, sto —”
“Run.”
It was a simple word, but Ochako froze immediately.
Run.
Run?
Run?
“Hmm...yessss, you could do thaaaaat,” the villain said, having caught Deku’s one coherent word. “Taking down one U.A. student is revenge enoooough…if you ran now, girl, I’d let you goooo…”
Ochako’s mind was still spinning. Run. Run. Run.
Izuku wanted her to run. He’d already saved her life twice today, and now he was trying to set her safety in stone.
Running. Turning and running. Leaving him behind. That’s what he wanted her to do, and honestly, it was terrifying how easy it would have been. It was terrifying how simple turning and running was when it came down to your own life.
But...Izuku’s simple word had the opposite effect on Ochako.
And suddenly, she found the strength to stand. The pain in her ankle meant nothing anymore.
For a second, she saw Izuku relax, dropping his head to the ground, ready to accept his fate.
He thought she was running.
But she wasn’t.
She stepped forward and stood over him, putting herself between him and the villain. She shifted her feet, like she’d seen Deku do so many times, into a fighting stance and held out her hands.
She was shaking. Her entire body was downright trembling. She was scared. Terrified. And she wasn’t afraid to admit it.
But she wasn’t going to leave Izuku. The mere thought of leaving him like this was enough to light a flame within her, enough to give her strength.
The villain looked at her, shocked and confused. “What is thiiiiis?” he sang. Then, his expression morphed into something like amusement. It was sickening. “You aren’t runnnning?”
“U-Uraraka…” Izuku realized in an instant that she hadn’t listened to him. “W-What…” He coughed; it sounded really, really painful. “G-Get...g-get out of...of here…”
Ochako was wracked with chills, and she grit her teeth, but her mind was made.
She wasn’t going anywhere.
“Stay down, Deku,” Ochako said, hoping her voice didn’t give away just how frightened she was. “You’ve saved my life plenty of times already. Now it’s my turn.”
The villain’s amusement faltered. “Playing frieeeends is a dangerous game,” he warned. “You can stillll ruuuuun…”
Ochako put up her fists. She knew it. She knew she could still run, and the logical part of her mind was screeching Go! Save yourself!
But that wasn’t an option. It’d never even been an option.
“I’m not going to lie,” Ochako said to the villain, swallowing thickly. “I’m scared of you. But...”
She paused, long enough to hear Izuku take in a shuddering, painful breath behind.
“...But the need to protect my friends overcomes any kind of fear I would have because of you!” Ochako shouted. “I’m not afraid of you! I’m not afraid of you!”
Maybe she said it to convince herself. Because she was scared. She was .
But not scared enough to back down. Not scared enough to turn tail and run. Deku was more important to her than any kind of fear.
And suddenly, she was overcome by another fear: the fear of losing Deku.
And that fear was much stronger than all others, including the fear the villain caused.
The thought of losing Deku…
It brought such utter terror to Ochako’s mind.
“Ah, piiiiity,” the villain said, but his tone didn’t back up his words. “Guess I’ll be delivering two dead bodies to the U.A.’s doorsteeeep…”
The villain’s deformed hand suddenly popped into Ochako’s mind again. So it was revenge he wanted, to strike fear into the hearts of the other students and heroes…
Ochako grit her teeth even harder.
“Oh weeeeell,” said the villain. “Suppose you step back, girl, let me put the boy out of his miiiiseryyyy…” He extended his sword, just slightly, for emphasis.
Ochako stood her ground with more courage than she knew she had. “You’re not touching him again,” she seethed, and her voice didn’t shake this time. “I don’t care if you stab me a hundred times, you’re not touching him again.”
She’d touched plenty of bricks with the intention of using her Quirk; now it was time to put them to good use.
“Oh?” the villain began curiously. “And hooooow do you plan on doing thaaat?”
Ochako put her fingertips together and uttered one word:
“Release.”
The villain had just enough time to roll his head in confusion before the loose building bricks— all of them—came crashing down on his head.
One by one they bounced off his skull and thudded onto the cement below. For a few moments, the villain stood, swaying slightly on his feet, his eyes wide open and his expression unreadable.
And then, his knees buckled, and he collapsed.
Out. Unconscious. Probably with a really, really, really bad concussion to boot. Ochako stood there breathlessly, bile rising in her throat; her stomach churned horribly, and she thought she’d be sick.
But she wasn’t.
Instead, she turned and crashed to her knees by Deku again. Right now, he was more important than any physical pain she was feeling, and that included the pain in her (probably) broken ankle, which she hadn’t so much as thought about.
“Deku, Deku, we have to go,” Ochako said, shaking his shoulder as hard as she dared. Now that the adrenaline was wearing off and the threat of the villain was gone, a new threat introduced itself, not for the first time:
Deku’s injury. His injury was a threat far worse than the villain.
Ochako retracted her hands and tore her skirt, ripping off strips as long as possible to use for bandages. Her hands were shaking. Her knees were scraped and covered in blood (her own and Deku’s). The entire alley was blood-splattered, like something out of a horror movie.
Ochako sucked in a deep breath to mentally prepare herself, then grabbed Deku by the shoulders and pulled him upright.
She was careful, and she knew it would hurt him regardless of how gentle she was, but she still wasn’t prepared for his reaction. He screamed . He flat-out screamed , and Ochako’s heart shattered, and the tears started again.
“I’m sorry,” was all she could say, as she held him upright and tried to get the bandages around his midsection, where the damage was worst. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry…”
Please forgive me.
Please, please, please forgive me…
I’m so…
...I’m so sorry…
She wrapped it as best as she could. It was nowhere near what it needed to be, and blood already soaked the bandages, but…
...It was enough. It was enough until they got help.
Now that it was over, Ochako couldn’t help it; she wrapped her arms around Izuku and pulled him closer, embracing him as tightly as she dared. For a second she considered letting go and giving him some breathing room, but then he wordlessly embraced her back, though his hold was much more limp.
Her breath hitched, and she she tried in vain to swallow the lump in her throat.
“H-H-Hey, D-Deku…”
The tears were back with vigor, and she buried her face in his matted hair to hide them.
“L-Let’s go h-home, ‘kay?”
When Ochako awoke, it was with a start, and she found herself staring upwards at the white ceiling of the U.A. infirmary.
She swallowed thickly and draped her arm over her eyes, her chin quivering.
That...was the last thing I wanted to remember...
She glanced over at the hospital bed beside her. Izuku was still there, sleeping soundly. He wasn’t on oxygen anymore and a little color had returned to his whitewashed face, but the bandages were still very much there and necessary, and the IV drip was still there, too.
“I see you’re awake.”
Ochako glanced over. The official U.A. nurse Recovery Girl stared back at her. The look on her face was unreadable.
Ochako sat up and turned towards the nurse’s other patient.“...How is he?” Ochako asked. “How’s Deku?”
“He’ll be fine once he sleeps,” said Recovery Girl. “I drained most his stamina fixing his insides and I put him on medication to help manage the pain, but he still couldn’t sleep soundly, so I gave him a sedative to let his body could rest.”
It stung at first, the knowledge that Izuku had to be literally sedated in order for him to sleep without feeling the pain of his injuries, but then Ochako was relieved, relieved that Izuku wasn’t feeling the pain of his injuries and could get the rest he so desperately needed.
“...I don’t know the extent of what happened out there,” Recovery Girl said, and Ochako turned to look at her. “But I believe I know enough.” The woman pulled up a stool and sat down on it with a weary sigh. “You were attacked by a villain, were you not?”
Ochako nodded at once. “We were,” she said. “In the alley, on our way home...and Deku was hurt…”
Recovery Girl nodded gravely, and Ochako let her voice fade out. “You two were very brave,” Recovery Girl said. “It takes a lot of courage to do what you did, and as students , too…”
Ochako swallowed. A lot of unwelcome images plagued her mind; Izuku, bleeding and unconscious; Izuku, struggling for breath; Izuku, no longer breathing …
“The school is very proud of you both,” said Recovery Girl, hijacking Ochako’s train of thought. “You and Midoriya fought bravely when you were unprepared and unarmed.”
“...Deku was braver,” Ochako said, her voice wavering slightly. Her hands balled into fists against the white mattress. “He...he saved me. The villain, he…” She could feel hysterics bubbling in her chest. “H-He was...he was aiming for me, but Deku…”
“You don’t have to explain anything to me,” said Recovery Girl, “I understand. But you mustn’t be angry at yourself, Uraraka. I know for a fact that if your roles were reversed, you would have done for him exactly what he did for you.”
Then, the little nurse smiled.
“...And you did protect Midoriya,” she said. “You brought him home, despite your own pain and fear. You protected him just as much as he protected you. You were very brave, you and Midoriya both. I’m proud of you.”
Ochako swallowed. Honestly, when she’d been against the villain...she hadn’t felt very “brave.” She’d been shaking from her head to her toes, barely able to hold up her hands. Deku had been far more brave, going so far as to tell her to run and save herself when he was bleeding out, dying, at the mercy of a deadly, horrifying villain.
“Don’t trouble yourself with this any longer,” Recovery Girl said sternly, getting up from her chair and crossing the room towards the door. “Proud of you or not, you and Midoriya are both my patients and you both need to rest.” She paused, just slightly, one hand outstretched towards the doorknob. “Do you need something to help you sleep, dear?” she asked Ochako softly.
Ochako shook her head. “N-No, I’ll be fine,” she said, and she hoped she wasn’t lying. “Thank you for everything.”
Recovery Girl nodded and left.
Ochako stared at the closed door for a moment or two, and then laid down again, though she doubted she’d be able to sleep again if she tried. She glanced over at Izuku (she seemed to do a lot of that lately), frowned, and then reached over.
She paused, hesitant, and then laid her hand over Izuku’s. His fingers were cold, and she was reminded—horribly—of how cold his skin had felt before, when she was shaking him back and forth in front of the U.A., screaming for him to wake up.
She squeezed her eyes shut tightly to block out the images that flooded her mind’s eye, but it was too late. The damage was done. Her throat burned; she felt like crying.
And then, Izuku’s fingers wound themselves around hers. His grip was weak, but he’d definitely moved, and Ochako looked up suddenly, startled.
“Deku?”
But he was still out of it. Completely and totally out of it. It’d been a subconscious move for him, grasping her hand, but for some reason it felt so much more than that.
Ochako suddenly felt a lot better, and she squeezed his cold fingers and smiled softly.
That was how Recovery Girl found them hours later when she came to change Izuku’s IV: sleeping soundly, their fingers entwined.