Chapter Text
Comets appear in her dreams sometimes.
It’s something she’d love to see—she’s always raising her hands to the stars at night, pretending she can reach them. Maybe in another world, she can. Her quirk would allow her to, theoretically (if humans could breathe in the black void of space). In her world, however, she’s tied down with responsibilities (on top of the nausea that her quirk grants her).
Is it strange, then, that when she sees falling stars in her dreams, she doesn’t feel elated about it?
If she had to pinpoint what she was feeling, she would say—
Agony
.
-
Ochako startles awake to a cacophonous alarm.
It blares like an emergency vehicle in her ear and she jerks up in bed immediately, thinking a fire alarm is going off. She’s already halfway to her bedroom door when she’s speared with the realization that this is not her bedroom .
The fog of sleep clears from her head as she examines her surroundings.
The alarm, Ochako notices, is coming from a sleek mobile phone on the bedside table. She taps the screen to turn it off. It’s the type of smartphone many of her peers have—one she would like, if she had money to burn.
The room around her is clean and simple; everything is organized and put away. The furniture looks more expensive than her own, but she’s not exactly living a grand life back home. The only other thing that stands out to her is a bright poster of the hero All Might, taped to the wall above the bed. She wonders how she got here, but her train of thought is interrupted.
A single ding alerts her that there’s a new message on the phone sitting on the nightstand.
weird hair:
yuor late man! run nd you’ll make it!
Weird Hair? What kind of name is that? Ochako doesn’t dwell on it. She peeks outside of the room carefully, frowning as she lumbers around because everything feels awkward—like she’s not used to the size of her body.
Curious, she looks down at her hands and squeaks (did that strange noise come from her?); the hands in front of her are definitely not her own. They are far too big and calloused, her finger pads are missing, and can she still use her quirk?!
A mirror , she thinks, I need a mirror right now .
Ochako sighs in relief when she opens the closest door in the hallway. It leads into a small, clean washroom. Locking the door behind her quickly, she looks into the mirror—
And screeches.
Except it can’t be considered a screech because her voice is too deep; it comes out as a strangled, frightened howl.
A muffled, feminine voice yells through the house: “What are you screaming about now ?”
Ochako doesn’t answer, instead feeling her not-round-enough face and running a hand through her not-dark-enough spiky hair. Menacing red eyes stare back at her; she’s not sure what to believe—maybe the reflection is a window and she’s looking at someone else.
But sure enough, she lifts up her black shirt and looks down to see a boy’s torso, flat and built ( where did her baby fat go? ). And now that she thinks about it, there’s something between her legs that shouldn’t be there.
And Ochako needs to pee.
-
Lunch break is starting by the time Ochako figures out where she’s supposed to be.
She decides she’s dreaming about some guy’s life and is going to enjoy it while it lasts. She has snooped through the social media apps on his phone and pieced together tidbits of his life: his name is Bakugo Katsuki; he’s achieved some outstanding awards in and outside of school; he works out at the gym.
He’s hardly posted anything himself, but he’s tagged in many of his friends’ photos and videos. Ochako wonders why he’s always scowling.
“Bakubro!” a cheerful male latches onto her—him—Bakugo Katsuki from behind.
She turns to her right to see a crimson-headed boy, hair gelled into thick porcupine needles, similar to her— Bakugo Katsuki’s untameable spikes.
“Weird Hair…?” she mutters to herself.
The boy laughs wholeheartedly and pulls her along, “How many times do I have to tell you? My hair isn’t that different from yours. C’mon, let’s go! Kaminari’s probably already waiting for us.”
“Kaminari?” Ochako lets herself be dragged along.
“Don’t tell me you still don’t know our names, man. Does Buzzbrain ring a bell?”
Does this Katsuki guy call everyone weird names? Ochako chuckles nervously in response, to which Weird Hair gives her a funny look that she ignores. Soon enough, they sit down on the rooftop with another boy, blond and happy.
Ochako naturally tries to sit with her knees together in front of her, but it feels too bizarre in her current body, so she opts to cross her legs, knees apart. If the other boys notice her indecisive positioning, they don’t mention it.
“What’s the occasion?” Kaminari/Buzzbrain asks instead, “Your buttons are actually all done up for once.”
Kaminari and Weird Hair converse animatedly and laugh a lot. They don’t seem to think it’s strange that Katsuki doesn’t say much, so Ochako opens up her lunch box to examine the contents.
Since she had been in a rush to get out this morning, she had almost left it behind—a woman who was probably Katsuki’s mother had reminded her to grab it. Now, Ochako’s scrutinizing the fragrant curry. It looks appetizing, and she’s hungry after her lengthy adventure in the train station this morning. She hardly spares a thought about it’s subtle red colouring before shoving a large spoonful into her mouth.
It’s spicy .
Ochako can take accents of spice in her food; little surprises of agony is fine. This —this is absurd . This is burnt tongue and fried taste buds; this is breathing fire and drinking lava; this is watching her family suddenly drop dead at her feet one by one.
She’s vaguely aware that she’s coughing up a lung and hacking like she can’t breathe (and she really
can’t
). When Ochako looks up again, tears in her eyes, Weird Hair and Kaminari are staring at her in absolute shock and the dreadful silence of a cemetery reigns.
Weird Hair asks cautiously, “Er… Hey, man, you doing okay?”
“I’m fine!” Ochako reassures, but her new voice sounds like she’s angry and just snapped at her friend. She’s mortified.
The two boys take it in stride. The redhead says, still concerned, “Okay. If you say so.”
Then, they go back to chatting as Ochako tries to survive the torture that is her lunch box.
“We haven’t visited Mina in awhile,” Kaminari points out, “You guys should take a break from the gym today and come with me to the café. Besides, Bakugo’s not looking so hot today.”
Weird Hair glances warily at Katsuki, but Ochako doesn’t notice; she looks up at the blond and practically drools as she echoes, “Café?”
-
It’s cuter and more sophisticated than Ochako imagines; they walk through glass doors, bells chiming, and head to a free table. One wall is plastered with cartoon pictures of food and drinks; she reads the writing on the wall—it lists a couple of popular menu items. A display case nearby is filled with pastel sweets and cakes that makes her think, Tsuyu would love to try those .
Her new friends have been sliding wary glances at her ever since the end of class, as if she’s going to chomp their heads off, but Ochako ignores them. This Katsuki guy must not like cafés, but this is her dream, so she’s going to make the most of it.
A noticeably pink-skinned girl in a worker’s uniform bounces over to their table to greet them: “It’s been a while, boys!”
“Mina!” Kaminari says, “I figured I’d get them out here since Bakugo isn’t feeling explosive today.”
Mina and the other two boys turn to look at Katsuki at the same time. For a small deer-in-the-headlights moment, Ochako just looks back at them. She’s not sure what they expect her to say, so she just raises a hand in greeting and squeaks out, “Uh. Hi.”
The three kids continue to stare at her for another second before giving each other unnerved expressions. Weird Hair breaks the tension with, “Well, I want the usual, Mina.”
“Same here,” Kaminari flashes a smile.
“And you, Bakugo?” the pink girl’s black and gold eyes catch Ochako again.
Ochako can’t help herself: “Mochi! Any kind. Surprise me.”
Mina blinks at her before turning away with a cheery, “Coming right up!”
They relax and talk for quite awhile—Ochako’s figured out that Weird Hair’s real name is Kirishima. She’s tried a couple of different mochis, and the boys have long since finished their own drinks and snacks. She guesses about two hours have passed when there’s a commotion in the friendly shop.
A customer with a mutant quirk has stood up from his table to yell at a waitress. The man is likely just trying to get out with a free drink, but his brutish appearance (big arms and body, a snout on his face rather than a human nose) makes him seem threatening. Mina steps in to help out her coworker, but the man is adamant.
“What the—” Kaminari starts, and Kirishima is halfway out of his chair to intervene.
Mina is already saying something back to the customer; something sensible to keep the situation under control, but before Ochako knows it, she’s standing between the pink girl and the angry customer.
Ochako’s rather simple thought-process went something like this: that big and scary guy is going to hurt Mina! I’ll step in to defend her; he won’t hit a small girl like me, and if Mina is willful enough to scare away the man, she might be fired .
Now that Ochako is in the crossfire though, she realizes that she is not, in fact, a small girl. She’s a boy with a terrible resting scowl. She starts sweating nervously, trying to choke down her rising panic as she says in Katsuki’s gruff voice, “Sir, I just finished that exact drink and it was great.”
Everyone’s staring at her now, friends and strangers alike.
She discreetly wipes her clammy palms on her pants, but it doesn’t help. She curses herself for her dumb habit of blurting out everything that comes to mind like a bumbling idiot.
“What the hell?” the man snarls, “You her boyfriend or somethin’?”
He moves, probably to grab Katsuki’s shirt, but Ochako raises her hands in defense and sparks fly, literally . Tiny little fireworks dance across her palms and then fizzle out.
The mutant man stares her down for a tense moment (likely thinking she threatened him with Katsuki’s quirk) before he spits and stomps out the doors, deciding that a brawl is not worth the free drink.
Ochako lowers her hands and stares at them in shock. Is this his quirk?
“W-washroom,” Ochako stutters, and runs in the direction of the toilet signs. They’re going to have to leave the store when she comes back; they can’t stay after her display of sparks. Quirk usage is not appreciated in public, after all. But she needs a second to herself, first.
Kaminari chuckles nervously from his seat, “That was strange, huh, Kirishima?”
“That was manly,” Kirishima corrects as Mina wanders over to them again, “Right, Mina?”
Mina shakes her head, “Yeah, but… You’re gonna think this is insanely weird, but I think it was the opposite. He’s been
cute
today.”
-
Ochako looks through Katsuki’s phone as she’s getting ready for bed, checking out the new photos she took of her mochi. There isn’t much in his gallery—mostly just funny selfies of his friends from when they got their hands on his phone.
She scrolls through a few saved notes and hero news, trying to find out what her borrowed personality is interested in. Accidentally, she taps open a calendar and finds that it is packed with plans. Blocks of time are dedicated to hitting the gym, some study sessions with Weird Hair take up a couple days of the month, and even time to spend on homework is recorded (although it’s very limited; he must be smart to be able to finish it all so quickly).
Ochako edits today’s events to match what actually happened (which means taking out Gym Sesh and replacing it with Café Hangout. As an afterthought, she writes into the notes of the edited event about the details. Back home, Ochako is accustomed to writing into a physical journal; the calendar notes will do for today.
She smiles before setting the alarm and turning out her lights.