Chapter Text
Everything burned.
Everything.
All of her wounds were older now, supposed to be closing up. Supposed to be. Instead, they’d scabbed, over and over and over again. Anytime Uraraka moved, really, they’d rip and bleed. Scab up again. Ooze some kind of liquid.
It was putrid.
Disgusting.
Ochako felt disgusting.
As she sunk into the bath, she burned. All her wounds stinging as the chemicals in the water pulled at her infected sores. At all the festering wounds. The water was probably already gross. Sure, she’d washed off once in the shower, but she’d had to do so tenderly. Gently, so she didn’t rip into her wounds, open them again as she tried to scrub the dirt and muck off her body. After this soak, she was going to clean herself again. And then soak again so her wounds would, hopefully, heal.
As far as punishments go, this one had been the worst she’d ever received.
But.
As far as All For One goes…
It was lenient.
Very lenient.
Six lashings, every day, for two weeks? That was nothing. Even if the whip was filled with metal and glass, it was nothing compared to what he could’ve done. He’d fed her every day. Allowed her water. Sure, he’d forced her to live in a sewer drain between the whippings, her skin would always show the ugly scars, but still.
She was alive.
And she had all her limbs.
All of her body functions were intact.
And that was saying something, considering who she pissed off.
She wasn’t sure anybody else—well, anyone who’d pissed All For One off, anyway—could say the same.
So.
As much as it pained her, and as gross as she felt, and as tired as she was, she couldn’t be too upset.
She was alive.
And that, really, wasn’t even what mattered.
What mattered was:
After Bakugou had knocked her out, her friends had escaped. All of them.
They were alive, and out of the League’s hands.
That’s more than she could ask for.
And her parents hadn’t taken her punishment for her. Ochako was lucky that they bought her story—that they really thought she had simply slipped up. She told them she had unchained Bakugou because she thought she had needed to do so. After she woke up, she’d told them she was under the impression that they wanted him moved to a more secure location, to question him about U.A.’s new teachers and staff members and security protocols.
Which, they had to admit, was all true.
They had wanted to move him.
Together though. Not just her on her own.
They’d accepted her story as truth. Believed that she was only trying to follow her perceived orders. That she was being a little too eager.
That was why her punishment had been so lenient.
Why she had been able to take it upon herself.
She had lived through the ordeal, her friends had escaped, and her parents were unharmed.
Yeah.
For her situation, that was much, much more than she could ever ask for.
So much more.
As the water in the bath became murkier, she felt relief under all the stinging of her wounds.
Because, at least she’d fixed something. For once, she was able to do right.
She sunk further into the tub, soaking up the hot water as it relaxed her aching muscles and bones.
Sleeping in sewers wasn’t just gross, it was uncomfortable. Painful, even, if you did it wrong.
She was lucky she’d been able to keep the rats away while she slept.
“This is so boring.”
Ochako startled, reminded that she wasn’t the only one in the bathroom.
Toga was here, too.
Watching her.
“You never talk with me. It’s so boring,” Toga complained again, elaborating more.
Ochako felt a pang in her chest. A sort of painful stab.
Toga…
She was crazy. And, usually, armed with several knives.
Which made her dangerous.
“Sorry,” Ochako apologized. “Just tired, is all.”
“Hmph,” Toga said, clearly not buying it.
Before she could respond further though, Ochako interrupted by standing up.
“The water is gross. I’m going to shower again and then soak again,” Uraraka announced.
Toga gave her a droll stare. Completely disinterested.
It took her a few minutes, but Ochako did as she said she would. Washed her body off once again in the shower, and then began filling the tub so she could have another soak.
Partially, she did it because she didn’t want her wounds to get worse. Mostly though, it was because she really was extremely filthy, and she really did value being clean. The thought of leaving the bathroom with grime still caked to her made her want to cry, or vomit.
As she began filling the tub again, she heard Toga sigh.
A sure-fire sign that she was about to speak.
Ochako braced herself.
But then:
A knock came on the door.
The two girls looked at each other. Ochako was sure she looked confused, and Toga glared suspiciously back.
“Don’t try anything funny,” she warned.
“I won’t,” Ochako mumbled, watching the clean water rise.
Honestly, this was the most perplexing thing about her punishment.
The League watching her.
Since she got back—just a few hours ago—they had someone tail her everywhere. They took shifts watching her—Spinner, Toga, Twice, and Compress. Kurogiri and Dabi were gone on some mission, or Ochako was sure they would join the rotation as well. (Which, in all honesty, she wouldn’t have minded. Out of all of them, Kurogiri and Dabi were the sanest members of The League. The two she felt most comfortable with.)
But, her point was:
It was strange.
It wasn’t like she was posing a threat to any of them. They seemed to have believed her story, so they shouldn’t be treating her as a traitor—as if she’d go off on them at any moment. Or sneak away or something. Besides, as far as she knew, her parents were still in their grasp. Still just a word away from Shigaraki or All For One ordering them dead. And they knew there was no way she’d jeopardize them. No way she’d risk her parents being killed.
So then.
Why watch her?
It didn’t make sense.
After Toga exited the room, Ochako registered brief bits of conversation happening outside the door, like background noise, but that was it. Other than that, she was immersed in thought. Completely lost in it as her bath water climbed higher, and higher, and higher, until—
A hand reached out, shutting off the valve.
It wasn’t her hand.
It was a hand that was ruined. The forearm wrinkled with burn scars. Staples lining the wrist.
She knew that hand.
It was not Toga’s.
Her face felt hot.
She was sure she was turning red.
“You should pay more attention. I know you just got back, but, jeez. Learn to be a little more aware, Uraraka,” Dabi said, taking a step back, away from her.
The space gave her more time to dwell on it, to think about the fact that she was standing there naked, and Dabi was here, in the bathroom, with her.
“It’s my shift,” Dabi explained, seeing the red that was spreading around Ochako’s face.
“Oh, right,” she said, unable to look him in the eye. Looking, instead, at the tub.
Awkward silence fell. The kind of silence that felt weighted, heavy with lack of communication. As if both of them had something to say, and neither could find a way to say it.
After an unbearably long time drowning in that silence, it broke.
Dabi spoke.
“Well, don’t let me stop you. Looks like those wounds need a good soak. I’d hop to it if I were you. It isn’t like the infection will hold off forever,” Dabi said, turning and walking to occupy the stool Toga had abandoned by the door.
As he sat, Ochako peeked out of the corner of her eye to see him look away. Very pointedly, away.
A kindness to her.
He was monitoring her, but not watching.
Thankfully.
She got back in the tub. Sinking into the water to hide.
“Did you put some of that stuff in there?”
His question made her jump. As if she was surprised he was really still here.
“Yes,” she replied, her voice pathetically unsure.
He nodded once, eyes still looking away from her. Positioned so that she was definitely in his peripheral vision, but still averted to the point where she had a little bit of privacy.
She supposed he was… trying. Doing his best to give her some privacy while also fulfilling his duties.
She couldn’t really fault him for it.
“You know,” he spoke, once again surprising Ochako.
Or maybe it wasn’t surprise. Maybe it was nerves. She was still in a very, very vulnerable position, and she wasn’t sure what his casual attitude was supposed to insinuate.
As he spoke more, she found she was less on edge.
“I tried to talk them out of it,” he continued. “I think they went overboard. Sending you to the big man, having him beat you. It wasn’t really necessary. But they just,” he shrugged, and shook his head in a way that kept him from directly looking at her—thank goodness. “They just wouldn’t listen.”
Ochako was…
Speechless.
Unsure of what she should say.
Part of her wanted to thank him. Both for his support, his being against her punishment, and for staying silent about her tears before. For keeping her pained heart a secret from the others. She kept forgetting, but.
She was actually kind of grateful to Dabi.
“It’s a shame they did that to you,” he continued. “If any of us has a chance at getting out of this situation, it’s you. The rest of us… we chose this. Everything. All of it. Even the consequences. We chose this. But not you. Not really.” He crossed his arms, as if he were holding something against his chest. “It’s not far that they’ve scarred you like that. You’ve got someone to go back to.”
“You’re wrong.”
She felt that. Said it with conviction.
Was confused as to why he would even bring it up.
“Oh?” he asked, turning to look at her again.
Despite the heat creeping up her face, she nodded at him. Kept eye contact as she said, “You’re wrong. There’s no one to go back to.”
Dabi stood.
And Uraraka felt something like fear grip her. Only, it was something warmer. Less biting. She felt her inside squirm as he spoke again, as he kept looking directly at her.
“What about that All Might wannabe kid? You two seemed pretty close,” Dabi speculated, taking a loud step toward the tub.
Uraraka’s heart hammered against her chest. Thumping painfully as Dabi’s boot hit the tile.
“We were friends, but I betrayed him. There’s no one,” Uraraka insisted.
Another sound like gunfire could be heard. Only, Uraraka was sure it wasn’t as loud as she felt it was. After all, it was just Dabi taking another step.
“Oh yeah? What about those other kids? When they were taken in, they kept asking about you,” Dabi pondered, voice lilting curiously as he let the information slip. “They were all pretty insistent that they were your friends.”
In all honesty, that was a shock to Ochako.
Clearly, she had betrayed them. Left them to rot. Fed information to The League. Information that had hurt them more than once during their time as classmates. Destroyed their shared home, even.
They shouldn’t see her as a friend.
She shook her head and Dabi took another step as Uraraka tried to grasp it.
“I don’t know why they would’ve said that. You were there when I left. They know I betrayed them. There’s no way they’re waiting for me. No way.”
When she looked up at Dabi, he was looking down at her, just a foot away.
How had he crossed the room so fast?
Gaze intense, he kept his features hidden, only showing how piercing his eyes could be, as he asked again.
“And what about Bakugou? The boy you saved. Isn’t he waiting for you?”
Ochako thought about it.
About how to respond to Dabi’s question.
“I didn’t save him,” she insisted. “It was an accident that he got loose. And he’s not waiting for me. If you watch the tape, you’ll see that he’s not waiting for me.”
Because there was no denying:
When Bakugou first saw Ochako that night, he’d been more than angry.
He was repulsed.
Disgusted.
Enraged by the sight of her.
Hurt.
Everything that went along with betrayal, and then some, could be seen clearly in his eyes. In fact, it was so painful to watch her crush struggle like that, it still haunted Ochako’s dreams. To see him so agonized. So angry. Wounded, and snarling. Bristling at the sight of her, rather than giving the slight, sneaky smile he used to have when she was around.
If you looked at the tape from the security camera that night, you knew.
There was no way Bakugou was waiting for her.
As Ochako let that sink in further, Dabi took another step and dropped down to his knees. At eye level with her as she did her best not to squirm in the tub.
But he wasn’t looking at her skin, at her naked body.
He was looking at her eyes.
Boring holes into her as he looked at her and…
Pleaded?
“If no one is waiting for you, then join us. For real, I mean. Please, Ochako, for your sake, join us,” Dabi’s voice dipped low, and his eyes bolted around the room like a startled rabbit. “They’re planning something Ochako. Something awful, I know it. They know you’re only here because of your parents. They KNOW. And they don’t like it. They want real commitment from you Ochako, and I don’t know how they plan to get it, but they’ll get it. They’ll take it if they have to. They’ll break you, Ochako. Really, truly break you. And I…” his jaw clenched a moment, and Ochako saw the skin trapped under his staples tighten at the gesture. When he looked into her eyes, there was real, palpable desperation there. Like hands clambering to get out of a mud pit. Fists that were raised in their shackles.
When he looked at her again, she was certain.
He was pleading.
“Join us Ochako. I don’t want to see what’ll happen to you if you refuse. Please. Join us.”
He dipped his head, leaning it against the edge of the tub. Looking at the floor.
A bow.
Begging.
“Please join us,” he asked again.
Ochako could hear his fear. How real it was. A tangible monster that crawled, like a parasite, from him to her. Eating her insides.
She should’ve known they’d be planning something.
Should’ve known they’d want more from her. Of course they would.
They were villains.
Greedy by nature.
Obviously, they’d want all of her.
Because, obviously…
She didn’t want that.
Seeing his tension, she didn’t doubt Dabi. After a week or so, she understood a few things about the villains—as a whole, and as individuals. One of them being:
Dabi wasn’t a faker.
He didn’t pretend to feel things he didn’t feel. Compress? Toga? Different story. But Dabi was no actor. He didn’t even bother.
The way his shoulders were hunched—the way he sounded scared for her, pained even—
That was all real.
And, coming from Dabi?
The one person who she might actually be able to befriend here in this hellhole?
It meant a lot. A LOT, a lot.
But…
Placing a hand on his shoulder, she could feel him tense up, surprised, before he relaxed again. Leaned more heavily against the tub.
“Sorry Dabi, but… I…”
He nodded.
“I know. You can’t. I know. I just… couldn’t let it happen without saying something. Without trying,” he explained, lifting his head slowly to meet her eyes, then floated his gaze onward to the ceiling.
Respecting her, once again.
“Sorry. I keep forgetting you’re not wearing clothes,” he chuckled nervously. “Must be pretty awkward for you.”
She felt herself flush.
“A little, yeah.”
They both chuckled nervously. Awkwardly.
“Thanks for the warning Dabi,” she said, truly grateful. “I… appreciate you.”
“Yeah, same,” he admitted. “You’re the only sane one around. It’s been nice, y’know, having someone around who’s got a normal perspective on things.”
“You’re not sane?” she questioned.
He met her eyes again, and his were sharp.
Hard.
“No. I’m not.”
Before Ochako could respond, he cut her off. A switch flipped somewhere, and the Dabi that begged her was gone.
Completely gone.
In his place was the Dabi she’d fought before, alongside her classmates. The Dabi that burned like a devil. That was bursting with flames, overflowing with rage.
His eyes pierced her as he spoke.
“I like you Ochako, I do, but don’t get confused. I’m just as mad as the rest of ‘em. My hands have more blood than could ever be washed clean. Don’t forget that.”
And then, abruptly, he stood.
Walked out of the bathroom.
As he stood in the doorway, he threw some words at her from over his shoulder.
“Make sure you bandage those properly,” he called.
And then she was alone.
Drained, once again, by the enormity of the world she was living in. The swift changes that came with being a villain. That came with the constant threat of her family and friends being in danger. The guilt that came with being part of that danger—even if she didn’t want to be.
And now, she could add worry onto that.
What were the villains planning to do to her now?
She was sure she didn’t want to know.
And sure that she’d find out.
She emptied the tub once again and got out. Her wounds were as clean as they could be. Besides:
The water had gone cold.