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In spite of the battle being waged outside, it had been a fairly quiet day. Ochako sipped from her mug absently as she stared out the window at the fighting in the street. She’d been half-listening earlier when the villain had been first pointed out on the news, and now she was half-watching as the heroes tried to contain the situation.
There was nothing particularly outstanding about the fight, other than it was keeping customers away from the shop. The villain was just another thug with a flashy quirk, letting her bend glass to her will. A small group of newer heroes were on the street, trying to keep things handled.
As much as Ochako wished it were, however, the fighting was no more her problem than any other civilian.
Four years ago, Uraraka Ochako had taken the UA entrance exam, hoping more than anything to become a hero. Not just to save people, but to help her family.
She had scored three points too low to be accepted.
Ochako stared down into her mug, biting back a yawn. Working at a small coffee shop had never been her first choice for a job, and it didn’t really pay well, but every little bit counted.
There wasn’t much point waiting around. No one would cross the police line to visit until the fight had moved somewhere else. Ochako walked back behind the counter, leaving her mug floating in place while she checked the register. Sales hadn’t been great in a while. She probably wouldn’t be able to work there much longer, and the manager had been talking a lot about cutting staff.
“You opened the register already? How thoughtful of you.” Ochako’s mug dropped in her surprise, shattering on the floor. She turned around quickly. Her heart skipped a step at the sight of a woman stepping out of the painted cinder brick wall. She was a tall, strong woman, with a thick money-filled bag in one hand and a gun in the other. “If it’s not too much trouble, you can just scoop that in here with the rest of it!”
Ochako quickly pushed the register drawer shut, taking a quick step back. “Who are you?” she demanded, biting her lip to keep herself from shaking.
“They call me Paver,” said the woman proudly, offering a toothy grin. “But that’s beside the point.” She waved the gun lightly, stepping closer. “Now, let's try this again. Open the register back up. You have thirty seconds to change your mind and give me all you got.”
Bam!
Ochako stepped back, heart pounding. Did she really just punch a villain? Paver reeled from the impact, clutching at her blood nose. While she was distracted, Ochako hopped over the counter, running as hard as she could for the door.
“You brat!” yelled Paver, recovering enough to take a few quick pot shots. Ochako flipped a coffee table up as she took cover, wincing as the windows shattered. “Get back here so I can shoot you!”
Think. Think! There had to be a way out of this! Ochako looked back to the window desperately. The heroes were all too busy, focused on the criminal rampaging in the street. Only one even looked to be glancing at the cafe, and they were all the way down the street. If she ran for the door, it would be over.
Ochako focused on the table, removing its gravity, just for a moment. She stood up quickly and hurled it at Paver as hard as she could. The villain ducked quickly out of the way, and the wooden table smashed against the opposite wall. Paver turned back to Ochako with a terrifying grin. “Sorry hun, you’re all out of hiding spaces! Guess that means it’s just you and—wait, what!?”
A thick powerful rope wrapped itself around Ochako’s waist. Right as Paver tried to fire her gun, the rope pulled back. Bang, bang! The rope reeled Ochako through the shattered window, narrowly missing each bullet. It lifted her up high into the air, up, until finally it set her down on the roof.
It wasn’t a rope. It was a tongue.
Ochako tried to catch her breath as the hero retracted their long, frog-like tongue. She tried to straighten up, but only stumbled, collapsing right into the hero’s warm chest.
“You should be more careful, kero. Lashing out at villains is dangerous. Are you hurt?” the hero asked, resting a soft, powerful hand gently on the small of Ochako's back. Ochako burned, her face turning pink at the gentle concerned touch. She stood up quickly, her heart skipping a step.
The hero in question was a beautiful, stocky, short girl, with long green hair that hung around her like a curtain of moss. Her dark eyes were large and gentle, with an odd, almost absent sort of look about them. She had a wide, deep set mouth, curved up in a soft concerned expression that was so oddly charming on her round features. The green and black panelling of her costume clung to her figure, clearly delineating her powerful musculature. In spite of herself, Ochako found it difficult to keep her eyes from drifting down to the hero's beautiful powerfully built legs.
“Hello? I asked if you’re okay? Hello?” the hero repeated.
“Ah!” Ochako reeled back, realizing with dawning horror she’d had her face pressed into the hero’s chest the entire time. “I’m sorry! I mean, it’s okay! I mean—” she took a deep breath, bowing her head politely. “Thank you for saving me!” With her head still bowed, she lifted her eyes, peeking through her bangs. She recognized the green hero—she wasn’t one of the more famous or rich heroes, but it was rare to meet someone who didn’t know Froppy, the Rainy Day hero.
“Don’t worry. It's what we do,” Froppy said, her expression slipping into gentle relief. “Are you sure you’re all right? I can carry you to the hospital.”
“N-no!" Ochako protested quickly. "It’s fine! Don’t you need to go fight the villains?” she asked, tucking a stray hair behind her ear as she straightened up. It occurred to her she’d never talked to a pro hero before. What was she supposed to feel—Envy? Jealousy?
Instead, she just felt. . . flustered.
Froppy shook her head. “We just finished up with Glass Knight, and my friend Cellophane is dealing with the thief in the cafe. All that’s left is to deliver those two to the police, and they don’t need my help for that.”
Ochako frowned. “But then you won’t be written down for the case, right? Don’t you need to go with them to get paid?”
“It’s fine, kero. I have more than enough to get me through the month. Here.” Froppy held out one of her large gloved hands. “Let me help you off the roof.”
Ochako pressed her hands to her heart, smiling sheepishly. “Wait! I need to do something to thank you. If you don't mind. Um. . . How about free coffee? Any time you come visit!” she offered quickly. The cafe owner probably wouldn’t approve, but Ochako decided she’d cover the cost.
Froppy paused, tapping a finger against her lips, her expression absentminded. “Can I treat you to a coffee instead? This Friday?”
What? Ochako paused, blinking as if to clear her head. What did she mean by that? “I-if that’s what you want, sure!” she said on autopilot, still trying to figure out what Froppy had meant. Why was the hero offering to pay for her instead? Ochako was about to backpedal and protest, insist she pay, but then, Froppy smiled. Seeing that smile, Ochako wanted so badly to laugh. How could they call her the Rainy Day hero when her smile was so warm and full of sunshine?
Suddenly, Froppy wrapped an arm around her waste. Ochako froze, burning pink again. “You’re going to want to hold on, kero,” Froppy said. She stuck out her tongue, wrapping it around the building's AC unit, and started rapelling down the side of the building. Ochako clung to Froppy, her head buzzing like a nest of wasps. She wasn’t sure if she was relieved or disappointed when they touched down on the street and Froppy pulled away, her gentle touch disappearing as quickly as it had come.
Froppy retracted her tongue and turned to Ochako one last time, tipping her head to the side and tapping her finger to her lip. “See you here on Friday then?” she asked, blinking her wide eyes thoughtfully.
Ochako smiled, nodding eagerly. “Mhmm! I can’t wait to see you then Froppy!”
Froppy straightened up, almost as if surprised. After a moment’s thought, she slipped into that soft warm smile again, nodding. “You can call me Tsu.”