Archive of Our Own

When Ochako first realizes her crush on Deku, after hearing it from Gunhead, no less, she knows she’s in big trouble.

She’s not here to find love, to waste her time on such pointless endeavours.

Again: is she friends because it’s something she needs to do? She needs to stop getting caught up in the wave of emotions at UA, it’s unbecoming of her. She doesn’t know them (forget trying, if she gets caught, she doubts she’ll see any of them ever again), and they don’t know her. Any of it. She doubts they’ll even try to listen.

It’s a little sad, this position of middleman, third perspective. She wants to be a hero, really, she wants to help save people, she wants to be a smiling kind figure being there in times of need. It’s just… her parents. And All Might. And the construction company her parents own but barely get to use. Musutafu’s got all the construction they need—at least, since she was born, and before that. People rarely need fix-ups nowadays. Compared to when the business was booming when her parents first set it up—almost 30 years ago.

When she was little, she dreamed of helping the place out, using her super-cool-and-useful quirk to lift materials around and help build. God, she practiced day and night, back then. (She still does now—just for a different reason.) In the end, she succeeded nothing but break materials over and over and over again. Then, she was so frustrated because her parents are good people—they didn’t even scold her because they knew she just wanted to help. They knew she learned her lesson, and it makes her tear up, thinking back on her childhood blunders and how they were always, always, always so accepting of her.

Regret is a funny thing, isn’t it? She was in her second year of middle school—thirteen, at that point—when she decided she had the greatest idea. She volunteered her time at the police station near her house (sometimes got paid to do odd jobs under the table; one of the managers there was friends with her ma) and was dead set on getting into UA for high school. She can make money off of that, she thought, and if the information turns out to be used for villainy… well, her parents might have some more employment, isn’t that it?

To her, all she had to do was figure out how to get the money to her parents.

(Fake a relative’s death and send them money as part of their will? Hide bits and pieces around the house? Anonymous donation to their bank account? She’ll figure something out. She’s—

◇

“Mama, look what I found!” she says, running over to her mother. She’s holding a small, chalky white rock in her hands.

“Wow!” her mother crouches down to her level, smiling. “Can I hold it?”

“Yes!” Ochako pushes it into her hands, barely containing her excitement as she bounces on her toes. “Isn’t it cool?”

Her mother makes the appropriate ooh-ing and ahh-ing sounds. “Where did you find it, sweetie?”

“Dad took me to the rock pit! I found it!”

Her mother smoothes her hair down, “That’s amazing, sweetie. You like rocks?”

“Yeah! I think it looks really cool. Dad said it’s quartz, and we don’t—normally, it’s inside of the other grey rocks. But this one is just by itself. It’s pretty special.”

“Is that so?” her mother smiles and presses a hand to her lips, a mischievous look in her eyes. “Want to see another really cool rock, Ochako? You gotta keep it a secret, though, okay, sweetie?”

“Yeah, okay! What’s it look like?”

“You’ll get to have it, if you like it! It’s red, your favourite. A washed-out red, and really pretty. Come up over here, Ochako—and here we are!”

Her mother rummages around before triumphantly turning and presenting her a medium-sized piece of red sandstone. “What do you think?”

“Can I touch it?” Ochako blurts.

“Of course, sweetie. It’s a little heavy, though, so let me hold it, okay?”

“But Mama—! I’m strong, I can hold it! I’m gonna be strong like you and lift big buildings! Without my quirk!”

“Okay, okay,” she concedes. “Touch away, sweetie.”

Ochako runs her fingers over the rock, awed by its rough texture.

“I’m gonna be strong like you, mama,” she repeats. “You and Dad—you guys are super strong. I’m gonna be like you.”

Her mother presses a chaste kiss to her forehead. “If you want to, Ochako, you’re gonna be. Your father and I, we’re going to be there for you every step of the way. Now, if you want to super strong and help us out tomorrow…?”

Ochako puffs her cheeks out and huffs. “Okay, okay, I’ll go to bed.”

◇

—she’s good.)

◇

GIRAN: Good afternoon.

GIRAN: I have read a few of your posts on hero and villain analysis. They are certainly impressive. I have a proposition for you, actually.

coffee: ohh really?

coffee: what kinda proposition?

GIRAN: I read that you were a little low on funds, and your prior and current experience and interest in things… this is a conversation better in person. Would you be willing to meet sometime in the near future? I can make it to Musutafu, if that is correct in where you’re staying.

coffee: okay!

coffee: what’re you proposing tho

GIRAN: A simple way for you to make a little extra cash without much hassle, that’s all. We take an interest in the going-on's of the hero industry. What do you say?

coffee: …

coffee: ok i get the whole mysterious vibes n all but what exactly are you gonna ask me to do?

coffee: scale of 1-10 how illegal lmao

GIRAN: As I said, it’s a conversation better done in person. If you’re worried about your safety, I have no problems in you deciding the meetup time and place.

coffee: ...

Well, this is her opportunity, right? She searches up Giran’s name—doesn’t find much (he does work in illegal affairs, Ochako, you idiot, she thinks back)—and decides to go through with it. What’s the worst that can happen?

coffee: sounds great!

coffee: then, thursday at tatooin station, 3:30. i’ll meet ya by the pink building w the cherry blossom. wear pink jeans + an all might hoodie. i’ll approach u.

GIRAN: ...Fine.

GIRAN: Will do.

◇

As it goes, as it ends, Uraraka Ochako is now a secondary informant for the League of Villains. Willingly, one might add.

She settles the money problem—get paid for sequential updates of information—usually ones that they’ll ask to know—which she’ll hide as money from consistent odd jobs at the station. She knows her parents don’t like her working (so young, much less, she should be working hard at school, they say), and they say she should keep the money for herself. She grins and says ‘sure!’, and then buys the groceries for the week so they don’t have to.

◇

Her first encounter with All Might was conflicting.

Like Deku, like Todoroki, like Bakugou—if what Deku says holds true—she too looks up to the Symbol of Peace (even after his retirement; that title belongs to him). He’s a great guy, she thinks, honest, strong, righteous, true. She respects him and everything he’s done—so many have been saved and are alive because of him, right? But she also blames him a little for the lack of her parents’ business.

Her ma told her why they chose to settle in Musutafu—the constant villainy and destruction and their quirks, well, it was something set for them. She asked why they couldn’t move around like others. Was it the money? They could take a loan. Was it resources? Was it transportation? Were there monopolies elsewhere? Was it...

“Oh, baby,” her ma had said, “when I was pregnant with you, we wanted to build a good foundation for you. And you’re here now, so we’ve got to provide you with the most stability a family can offer. You’re our little girl; you deserve the best you can get from us.”

...her? Was she the cause of her parents’ hard-working poverty?

◇

“Ah… excuse me,” she asks, approaching the pro hero from the entrance exam nervously. “But, um, that curly-haired boy with the freckles…? You know the one..? He’s, ah… really plain-looking.”

He turns to face her and grins wide. “Yes?”

“Ah—well, can you give him some of the points I earned?” He doesn’t say anything, so she takes that as a cue to elaborate. “At the end, he was saying ‘Just one point!’, I heard him! That means he didn’t get any points right…? At least however many points he gave up trying to save me...! He probably saved my life!”

The hero laughs and pats her head in response, saying “I’m afraid we can’t give him your points, but there shouldn’t be a need for that, my little listener!”

She brightens for a moment, then frowns. “That means.. then?”

“Well, that’ll be a secret, won’t it? We can’t give out early information about who makes it in… but don’t worry! We give out rescue points as well—that’s an essential part of heroism, too, isn’t it!”

Yeah, that’s it, isn’t it? Heroism.

Known as great bravery; known as dauntlessness, valour, courage, moxie.

That means recklessness, that means having the strength and the confidence to act. To put aside distractions, to focus, and win. Put aside her feelings, and do what needs to be done. Act first, when people are in danger, because that is a hero’s responsibility—to save those in need.

Well, what does it take for her to get there?

Well, who can do that?

Deku.

“Sir,” she says, hesitant, “may I ask you a question? Another question, that is.”

“Of course!” he answers, upbeat and she smiles for a moment, embarrassed and daring.

“What does a hero mean, to you? Being a hero.”

He sputters a bit before regaining his composure. “Well, that’s a question I wasn’t expecting! To me, kid? A hero means somebody who does the right thing when in a dire situation. Somebody who—who might not know what the right thing is, but perseveres and makes their best judgement—”

“Somebody who creates the optimal outcome, is that it?” She then winces, sheepish after interrupting the hero.

“Yes, perhaps,” he answers. “But someone can be a hero without always creating that optimal outcome, and people can—can make decisions that aren’t heroic while still maintaining that perfect picture. Every—things aren’t always black and white, dear listener. All you need to need is to try your best to help others.”

“While still followin’ the law, and all that, yeah,” Ochako mutters, then, “So, then, would—would that boy, the green-haired one, you think, be someone people would call a hero?”

“I can’t answer that,” he says with a smile. “But seriously, worry not! He’ll get those rescue points for you.”

“Sir, just—I get it, if you aren’t allowed to—to answer these, or if you haven’t watched him, that’s fine, just, please, answer me this: then, would someone like—like All Might be the perfect ideal of a hero? The gold standard?”

“Yeah,” he says, laughing, “he’s called the Symbol of Peace for a reason, isn’t he? How he helps those in need and inspires hope in those who need it. He’s not—infallible, as it may be, and the rest of us heroes are around, of course—but certainly, there is a good reason why many people look up to him. But if you take one thing away from this conversation, little listener: it’s that everyone is different. Be your best hero, not someone else’s—whether that means going front and center with a smile on your face, or from behind the scenes, or on the news, whatever it may be and whatever you want to do.”

“Yes,” she says. “Thank you. But—sorry, really, but—is it still a hero if it comes at the destruction of someone else? Of—of another business, or—or people who have done nothing wrong, nothing to do with the problem? Is that still a hero, if you—you save people and you save their life or whatever, but other people have to suffer? Because of your actions?”

(Since when, perhaps, was she talking about herself?)

“It depends,” he says, and ruffles her hair. “It depends, and that will always be a dilemma people—not just heroes—have to consider.”

“And we’ll get used to it?” she asks dryly.

◇

When she first meets the League of Villains, it’s a little underwhelming. She covers the bottom half of her face with one of those anti-pollution masks, borrows some of someone’s red hair dye and puts her hair up into a bun, and borrows some of Mina’s clothes for the most minimal-effort disguise she can afford at the moment.

(She does spend a fair amount on her makeup, to be fair. It’s her only collection—full of dollar-store grade components—and she doesn’t have enough to comfortably use so much on one appearance, but she knows if she’s traced back… well. It won’t be too great for her, that way. She’s careful to make it as natural as can be; nothing extra like blue eyeshadow or black lipstick (now would that be a statement for the villains), but she tries to blend her skin tone slightly darker, raise her cheekbones, and square her usually round face. She highlights her eyes and contours the same, tries to make her eyes a little more sunken-in. She’s not willing to add wrinkles or laugh lines, but she does try to add a few freckles. She isn’t sure it works, but it’s worth a shot.

After all, makeup is good for one thing, and that’s tricking mugshots. Looking prettier is just a benefit.)

She follows the location offered to her through her phone—she’s sure to delete it the moment she’s where she needs to be, of course—and carefully opens the door to the bar. It’s lousy—hinges a little rusted and needs to be greased—and announces her presence, but she finds she doesn’t mind all that much.

“Hello!” she chirps, waving a hand, once the League turns to look at her. “Y’all probably know me as ‘coffee’! Pleased to finally make your acquaintance!”

The one with the hand on his face (okay, that’s just gross, no matter what anyone says) cracks his neck. “Hmm? Our informant, is it?”

“Yep! And you are?”

“How do we know she’s trustworthy?” he ignores her question, instead turning to the mist behind the bar.

“She’s been—” he begins to speak, setting a glass filled with a slightly yellow-toned liquid on the counter.

“Wow!” she interrupts. “Your quirk looks super cool, what kind of stuff does it do? Are you mist all around—do you see and hear and touch the same? I don’t know very many mutation-typed people, I'll admit, and especially none as cool as yours.”

“Ah—” he flounders for a moment before regaining his composure. “You may call me ‘Kurogiri’. As for my quirk, well, yes. I suppose that you may call it a mutation-quirk, although its use is not directly related.”

“I see,” she says, taking a seat a couple stools away from the hands guy, and faces the bartender. Kurogiri. “So what’s its use, then?”

“You’re nosy,” the hands man says before Kurogiri can respond. “Fuck off. Why are you here, anyway? Can we even trust you? I don’t like this.”

“Too bad, so sad,” she sings, turning to face him. She tries to put on a brave front, to be callous and carefree, despite whatever her nerves are currently doing inside. “I was invited, so I came. It’s a good thing to know what you’re getting into, isn’t it? Besides, I’ve been payin’ y’all your information this entire time, and when have I been accountable for incorrect information? If anything, I should be asking how I’ll know you won’t sell me out the first chance you’ll get.”

“You wanted to come here, it ain’t our fault if we throw you out,” the hands man sneers. “Get out, you’re screwing my view, here. Are you even old enough to be in a bar?”

“That’s for me to know, and you to find out, I guess!”

“Shigaraki,” Kurogiri warns. “I apologize, miss. Please, take a seat, and I may prepare a drink for you if you wish.”

“Sorry,” she smiles, “I’m really low on money, right now. Maybe later. And Shigaraki’s not entirely wrong; I’m not really old enough for alcoholic drinks just yet.” She figures she owes the villains some kind of honesty, even if the gross one refuses to respond in kind.

“Kurogiri…” Shigaraki, the hand man, growls. “Fine. If you’re not leavin’, what’s your name, then? I’m not calling you ‘coffee’ or whatever other stupid name you choose to use.”

“Privacy!” Ochako chirps, “Call me Coffee, seriously, it’ll make both your life and mine easier. I just told you; I can’t trust you, and you aren’t anywhere near trusting me. I’d like to say I have just enough wits about me still to keep my name hidden, as much as joining y’all was a terrible idea. So! Let’s get the intimidation factors over with, and become friends, shouldn’t we? We’ve got a long future ahead of the two of us.”

“You don’t think we can succeed?” he snarls, “You don’t think we’re good enough to get this over with?”

“No,” she says, surprisingly honest. “I don’t think you’ll ever be satisfied, Mr. Shigaraki. There’ll always be something for you, some kind of yearning, won’t there? Besides, you don’t seem particularly new at this whole villainy scheme. If you were to win, you would have done it already. That’s not to say I don’t believe you can take down All Might, though!”

“You heard about that,” Kurogiri says, and it’s not a question. “Who told you?”

“I’m just as good at getting information as I am sharing it,” she says in lieu of an answer. “I do have to know what I’m getting into, don’t I? Seriously, this is getting boring. What’s your favourite band, guys?”

◇

Her battle against Bakugou is a difficult one. It’s one she’s ashamed of, and it’s one she’s proud of.

She tells herself she needs to win. It’s the best way to get ahead, to show off her skills, get the attention of the public and the pro heroes. She needs to come up with something, something ingenious, something clever and something that will let her win against one of the best fighters in her class. (It hurts a little, to admit she’s nowhere near them, but she’s working on it.)

It’s not too different than what she’s been doing almost her life—since she fully understood her parents' financial situation, and since she resolved to change it. Do something brave, do something stupid, do something amazing, and people will look. Keep them looking. Wring out every last drop of attention and favouritism she can get from it. Use what she has to her advantage, don’t hold back.

Deku offers her a plan. She refuses. It’s something she needs to do on her own, she insists. She can’t afford to be relying on friends all the time!

(Even though people are a great resource, sometimes, as a hero, you won’t have people to use, she’s sure of it. Besides, she thinks a little jealously, Deku’s got everything. He’s got a super-strong quirk that can smash through anything, and he’s got one of the best minds for analytics and strategizing! And she can’t even bring herself to dislike him, because he just radiates friendliness and honesty. Why is it so easy for him to become a hero? How can she do that? In this situation, against Bakugou, with her quirk and their relation, what would Deku do? Can she do that?)

Her plan isn’t foolproof, but it will work, she’s certain of that. She’s got to keep him distracted. Her quirk can lift things up—cancel gravity on objects. He blows things up. If he blows the ground apart (stay low, she thinks), she can lift them up and away. She’s got a tight weight limit that she’s got to abide by—can’t make herself float either—but he has a drawback too. His power comes from his sweat. Make him use up all his sweat before the big finish. The rocks will fall down, she’ll have to grab a hold of him really quickly while he’s distracted. She can send him floating away after that. She’s just got to hold on until then. She can win just like Deku did. She can be a hero.

Something goes wrong, somewhere—maybe she miscalculated the force of his blasts or the rate of which he sweats or uses his sweat, or got distracted herself. Her weight limit was surpassed, because of the damage she herself took while distracting him first.

Stupid, she thinks to herself as she’s falling down, down, down. Her limbs don’t move, she’s screaming at them to move, just move, but all she sees is Bakugou’s shocked face looking down at her. Stupid, she thinks. You miscalculated. Big time. And now you’ve lost, and got nothing but bruises to show for it.

“I’ll be watching you,” her dad says over the phone. “You got this! I believe in you!”

“Dad,” she whispers, as her body hits the ground and her vision whirls a little bit. Midnight comes over and announces her unfit to continue the battle, and Bakugou wins. “Mom, Dad…”

She failed them, yeah?

She’s ashamed.

She meets Deku in the infirmary, just before he goes to fight Todoroki, and she tells him she’ll be watching. She tells him good luck. He, too, is fighting one of the strongest people in her class, but unlike her, he has a chance at winning.

She calls her parents, after, and she breaks down sobbing. She apologizes, over and over again, at this point beyond caring if anyone hears her. She apologizes until they’re practically meaningless, empty words, but her dad has the gall to tell her it’s alright. That she can take things at her pace, she can strive to become a hero because she wants to, not because of them. That they can take care of themselves, it’s okay, it’s okay it’s okay.

She doesn’t know what to say to that, and they tell her they’ve been supporting her since day one, no matter what it is that she wants to do, no matter what it is that she’s doing. They’re her parents, after all, they say.

(Even if it’s something really stupid? she wants to ask. Even if it’s something really bad, even if it’s something that hurts people. And she knows, looking back, that they’ll be disappointed if she tells them. They’ll be disappointed that she never listened to what they had to say—it’s not necessarily that her villainy is bad. If she really strongly believed in something and it was really the only way, then they’d hesitantly support her, she knows—but it is because that she had to do it for them that they’d be disappointed. They don’t need that, they’ve told her over and over. They’re doing everything for her, they’re not asking for anything in return but pride. She hates herself a little bit, because what actions has she done that will give them pride, now? After all that she’s done to make them happy and live a better life, how much of that is really related, huh?)

Deku loses to Todoroki (this time, though, he has something to show for it, she knows, unlike her), Iida vacates, and Todoroki loses to Bakugou, who is crowned the winner. She thinks, well, at least I lost to the winner, and hates herself no less. She lost, damnit, she wanted to make that podium, if not stand on top of it.

Rumours circulate a little while—about Bakugou’s villainous appearance, Iida’s disappearance, Todoroki’s fire, her fight.

‘Where do you see fragile,’ Kaminari tells her later on that that’s what Bakugou said, relatively embarrassingly revealing what he said to provoke that response. He asks her about what was going through her head when she was executing that ‘pretty brilliant, now that I think about it’ move.

She laughs, waving her hand; “It was just something I came up with and hoped it worked—which it didn’t, haha!”

She gets few compliments over the few days after the Sports Festival, as everyone who participated did, most of them focusing on that one battle.

Here comes the pride: she’s proud that people have recognized what she is, what she can do. She listens to Yaoyorozu talk about her fight against Tokoyami (‘I’m so ashamed, I couldn’t do anything, and I even got in on recommendation, what can I do?’) and she comforts her. Failure and not being good enough seems to be a trend among UA students, she thinks bitterly.  

Her included.

She’s Uraraka Ochako—daughter of the owners of a construction company, holder of a gravity quirk, first-year student at UA. She placed third in the entrance exam, tenth in Aizawa’s Quirk Apprehension Test (if that means anything, anymore). She’s more than a bubbly, friendly, face. Hell, she’s here to become a hero, and she knows she can do it.

And then, is she really? Can she really?

She’s heard of self-doubt, lack of self-confidence; certainly, among people her age, she knows it’s common. She knows it’s okay, she knows she should be proud of herself and how far she’s come, like everyone else, it seems, but it’s so much easier said than done, isn’t it?

It’s so different when she’s the one who’s doubting herself.

(At least, there are people who believe in her, right? That should be good enough.)

◇

“Oh?” Toga—the one who attacked her and Tsuyu greets her as she walks in the bar. “When I heard we had an insider from UA, I was so excited, but I wasn’t expecting you, Uraraka!”

Toga’s words ring back in her head—There’s someone you’re crushing on. And you’re thinking you just wanna be like him.

“Well, I wasn’t expecting you to attack us back there, either, huh!” she responds, forcing a grin, and pumping her arm. “Wow… that certainly was a surprise!”

So you end up decking yourself out to look like him.

She turns to Shigaraki who is sitting at the bar watching, and asks him in the dryest tone she can manage, “Speaking of which, there isn’t any way I could be notified about your plans when involving attacking my class? I’d really appreciate knowing when I might get killed.”

A pause.

“We’re not killing you yet,” he says. “You’re still useful. So don’t worry about that.”

She laughs, “Fair,” because for all that she regrets, well, what argument can be made against that?

At least, she thinks, he knows her value to him. She needs to keep it that way if she wants to keep this situation under control.

But after enough time, even that’s not enough. You literally want to become him. There’s no helping it.

“Are you really deserving here,” Toga asks. “Are you reaaaally? You don’t seem like someone who wants to reaaally be part of this, mm? You don’t have the backbone or the desire like we do, to love and to kill, mm?”

Ochako inhales slowly, and gently bounces the pads of her fingers against each other a couple times—a nervous tick of hers—before speaking in her most professional voice.

“I have always been upfront about my intentions,” she says, firmly. “In the event that you have misunderstood my—my desires, so to speak, I apologize. I—I am not—I do not follow Stain’s ideals, and I have no particular desire to take down the hero industry.”

Keep calm, she tells herself. Don’t show weakness. Be strong.

“But you have no qualms about selling them out if it’s for your purpose,” the other new one—the one with the burns and the staples says. It’s not a question. She’d laugh if it was.

“No,” she answers, swallowing dry. “I do not. Otherwise—well, I wouldn’t be here, would I?” She smiles brightly (remember good times, Ochako, remember Mama and Papa, remember Tsuyu and Iida and Deku, god, Deku, what would he do? before she mentally shakes her head (he slaps his cheeks when he focuses) and gets back on track) in an attempt to lighten the mood. It does not go over well.

“And you’re still aspiring to be a hero,” he continues, moving towards her. She wills herself not to be intimidated, not to move back.

Keep calm, she repeats. Don’t show weakness. Be strong.

“Well, yes!” she says. “And if you don’t mind me asking—I never quite caught your name..?”

“Dabi,” he responds, coming face-to-face in front of her. He’s tall, and looks down. She thinks she hears someone giggle (probably Toga) in the back.

“And you think you can be a hero, ” he says the word like a curse, “while selling out your precious friends and teachers? You think that’s heroism?”

“Is the action of saving people when they’re in danger not in of itself heroism?” she returns.

Think, Ochako. You know people. You understand them.

(You need to understand yourself.)

“I said it before—I don’t follow Stain’s ideology like I’m guessing you do. I’m doing this for my parents. I want to be a hero for my parents. For the money, yes. Maybe it’s selfish and unfitting of a hero—but is that not the same thing as any other career? Do you think doctors or policemen or construction builders should be eliminated because they might not seek out that job because of what they have to do? I’m sure there are doctors that are saving people’s lives because it’s something they study really well, or because it pays, or firemen because of the work hours, or whatever. Is it really any different?”

◇

It always comes down to what she’s done. It’s always about her mistake, it’s never about her regret. It’s always about other people, it’s always about sacrifice, it’s always about the greater good.

Does it hurt so much, really, that she wants to be a little bit selfish once in awhile? That she wants to become stronger—like those she admires—and that she wants to give her parents a better life (one that they deserve)?

It’s written off as selfishness, unbefitting of a hero, because it’s something other than pure benevolent and charitable action.

(Because it’s something that she wants, not something that needs to be done. How many people are like that—selfless to theoretical destruction (they always win, heroes, right?), selfless without gain or pleasure? Selfless, as an agent of the people? How many are true heroes—just All Might? Why is All Might the best hero? Because he can punch his way to victory?)

‘Well, to hell with that,’ she thinks sometimes, and other days she looks up at her peers (for what pure reasons are they here? is she the only one? of course she is—who else sells their friends out? selfish.) and is inspired. Those other days, she thinks yes, that is the kind of person I want to be.

(You literally want to become him. There’s no helping it.)

◇

It’s unfortunate when they catch her. She’s with the League of Villains, for once. They burst in. There’s a fight, and she’s frozen. She doesn’t help or rebel. She just stands there; properly shook, fearful and disbelieving. Someone takes notice of her eventually, and gloves are forced on her fingers. She gets handcuffed. They are talking to her, but she can’t hear them. She doesn’t understand anything they’re saying—she just looks ahead, and gets pushed around where they’re taking her, and her brain goes back over and over again to that beginning moment.

“Ura—” Deku begins to say, running up to her, when the class hears of the attack (like they always do, it’s UA after all). It feels like everyone’s crowding her when in reality they’re standing a few paces away, lined up horizontally. It’s a little bit sad, she recognizes, how they’re still being so patient with her, when they really shouldn’t, when they really should be mad and pushing her away. Why are they still waiting on her?

She watches them put the pieces together like a puzzle, one corner, two corners. A picture painted perfectly, one that she’s standing in and not looking out at. One she shouldn’t be, but everyone makes mistakes, right?

(Which one was the mistake: joining or getting caught?)

Her feet stop moving of her own accord, and the one tugging her along stops for a moment—presumably to get her to speak to them. Maybe she’ll recognize them, it’s the hope. She doesn’t. She won’t.

Instead, Ochako looks away. She can’t bear to look at Midoriya’s expression, not when she’s this close to tears already and he probably is too, and she looks elsewhere. It’s a mistake—she meets Iida’s frightened but hardened gaze (she can tell it reminds him of his brother, of Stain, and she doesn’t blame him), she sees Tsuyu’s regularly inexpressive face that she’s learned to read so well show doubt (and damn, does that hurt) and confusion and pain.

She meets Momo’s face, and that conversation they had about money and support flashes back in her head and probably hers too, and it hurts. She catches Ojiro’s eyes, and the two remember the beginning of their friendship, and she wonders what will happen (as if there’s any doubt—no, that doubt is the regret and the guilt is just in her). She sees Kirishima mouth ‘what’, and then ‘what the fuck what the fuck, Ochako,’ and she almost mouths back ‘I’m so sorry I don’t want it to be like this, but I was young and stupid and I can’t go back now, it’s too late it’s too late,’ but she doesn’t do any of that because she knows if she starts talking she won’t stop, and the tears will come out. She doesn’t want the tears to come out. She wants to be strong.

She sees Bakugou’s face and they remember the Sports Festival (and how Kaminari asked about fragility, his response, and how she learned of his respect) and she sees him grit his teeth, for once quiet. She sees Tokoyami and Shinsou torn—not just ‘it’s not us who are the fucking villains for once, look at her goddamn personality and quirk,’ but also the betrayal. They remember her cheer and her welcome, and they want to ask, ‘was that all a lie?’ and she wants to answer but she can’t because it wasn’t a lie, she loved them—she loved all of them, truly—but when asked between her family and her friends?

She wouldn’t be able to answer now (her parents are self-supporting, they’re capable, but she owes them so so so much, just like she does her friends), but hey. She doesn’t have to make that decision anymore. She made it when she was fourteen, when she joined the League of Villains and received that first paycheck, and it’s only been two years.

She says nothing, and the police continue to take her away. When they finally reach their destination—the police station, perhaps?—she doesn’t dare look at Ryukyu or Gunhead’s face, because the tears well up again, and she can just imagine hearing Ryukyu’s silent query of ‘is this what you meant when you made a mistake?’

(Yes, darling, it is.)

(She doesn’t see Hawks.)

They, once again, take her away. Away from people. Away from those who can reason with her, because, well, it’s too late now, isn’t it?

She doesn’t get put in a cell per se, but it’s not her dorm and it’s not her home. It’s unfamiliar, and it’s unwelcoming. It’s proper for a traitor like her.

Finally, the day catches up to her, and it doesn’t take long for the tears and the hiccups to as well.

(She wanted to be strong, but that’s impossible, isn’t it?)

◇

You don’t love him, you think, you want to be him.

◇

“—you can really see his tenacity. His one-track mind. Kind of cool, don’t you think?”

It’s Kaminari who brings it up—although not the only one who agrees, if going by the amount of nodded heads—although, he promptly apologizes after realizing Iida’s circumstances.

(One-track mind, huh? Is that what it is? she wonders. For what reason did Stain believe so strongly in the “pure, true, heroics?” How many villains resort to murder, arson, theft, whatever chosen criminal acts because of heroic corruption?

How many are there, like me?

What does she not know, about the world she lives in? What would it take to know?)

And she almost misses it when Iida concedes the point—that it’s understandable his motives to be seen as cool, but his actions—purging society—are just plain wrong. And he can’t accept that; so he says he’s learned from his mistakes (going in for revenge, alone) and will “walk the path of a hero”.

Iida understands. Iida understands, bless him, and clearly, something happened while she was training with Gunhead. Clearly something happened—between him, Deku and Todoroki (although near-death experiences do that to a person, it’s unfortunate those experiences she’s had were shared with those inducing them and those equally-crazy)—so that he reaffirms his honourable intentions and encourages his classmates to do the same.

It’s a little like Yaoyorozu’s exclamation, she thinks, back at the beginning of the year—of supporting one another to become a pro-hero. It reminds her of her classmates. How they are all supposed to be there for one another—if that is the case, why doesn’t she stand up and exclaim her problem? Why doesn’t she ask for assistance?

(She knows the answer; because if she did, her classmates won’t look at her the same way again, and Aizawa’s here, he’ll take her to the police or somewhere else, and she won’t become a hero, ever, and nobody’ll trust her, she just wanted the best for her family.

She was always upfront about that, why is it so hard to understand?)

She walks back after school ends with Iida, and she asks the second-loudest question on her mind.

“Hey, Iida, can I ask you a question?”

“Yes, of course!”

“Do you think… well, with Stain’s motives and all… is it bad that I want to be a hero for my parents? To make money for my parents? Would that make me a bad hero?”

He laughs a little. “I think you’re asking the wrong person, considering… Well, considering I did go after him for nothing more than revenge and a desire to prove myself, if you will. But I think… well, it’s hard to be a bad hero, right, if you’re saving people, and doing what you can? You could be a bad person—ah, not that you are!—but the acts of heroism itself, they’re inherently good, right?”

“I guess,” she says, unconvinced. What does that mean about her, all else considering, she thinks. “But then why would Stain…?”

“I would assume there’s something else about him that we don’t know that led him to his motivations. But, of course, his opinions are different than mine. I don’t see any particular problem from wanting to give back to your family—that’s a little bit of what I did, isn’t it, although I really shouldn’t have—ah, I should have thought more before acting.”

“And talked to us,” Ochako says.

Iida smiles. “Yes.”

“So long as I don’t start a love for homicide, it’s okay?” she asks wryly.

“If you put it that way, yes.”

(He understands that that’s not exactly the case, but it’s what she needs to hear.)

She laughs, and nudges him. “Thanks, Iida. That really helped.”

“...You’re welcome,” he answers, and she can practically hear him thinking ‘don’t make a stupid mistake like I did, even though I don’t know your circumstances,’ and she wants to equally tell him ‘it’s too late for that hope of yours, sorry,’ but she doesn’t.

Instead, she waves him goodbye as they part ways to go home.

◇

“You didn’t want them to go after Bakugou,” Tsuyu says, approaching her.

“Tsu!” Ochako turns around, surprised. “No, I don’t—the heroes can handle it, I’m sure. I think we’d only get in the way.”

“That isn’t going to stop anyone, you know that, kero?”

“Yes. Yes, I—I had to try. It’s not going to—I can’t see it ending well, Tsu. I just want—I just want everybody to be safe and happy, y’know?”

“Nobody’s going to be happy or safe, if Bakugou stays with the League of Villains.”

“You want to go after them?”

“No. As you said, the heroes can handle it. We are still injured and far weaker than any of them.”

“Then why are—?” She doesn’t finish her query because it would sound so wrong. It would sound so defensive, if she were to finish the thought and ask ‘why are you here, after me?” She needs to be proper and realistic. She needs to be a good student, first and foremost, and protect her identity. From both sides.

“Ochako,” Tsuyu says, “you can trust me, right? You can trust us. There’s something else you know; something you’re not telling us.”

“Yes,” she says. Nobody can lie to her, Ochako figures with a sigh. “Thanks, but… I don’t know. I—it’s hard and it’s not going to help anyone. We just gotta hope the best for Bakugou and—and Deku, and everyone else going!”

“If you’re so certain, kero. Just don’t hurt yourself, Ochako. Us or anyone else, but don’t forget you’re in this, too. You’re important too, Ochako.”

“Thanks, Tsu.”

She’s—she’s still filled with regret. She still feels guilty. She still wishes a hole will swallow her up and everyone else along with her, so that she doesn’t have to face the ‘consequence of her actions’. But she does. And that is something that she’s got to learn.

(Why does this have to be so hard? Why does she have to do this to the people she loves?)

◇

It’s surprising when she meets Hawks.

The second-ranked hero, in the League of Villains? Practically unthinkable.

◇

“You’re throwing everything away,” he says, horrified, after she gives him the run-down. After the League meeting—where they met—he followed her before quietly pulling her into an alleyway to talk. He’s got a forgiving heart, she supposes, or really observant eyes if he believed that she wasn’t entirely on the villain’s side. “If they catch you—if anyone hears about this, even after the League goes down—your career is dead.”

“Isn’t that the same for you, though?” she returns.

He sighs, for a moment. “...Well, yeah. I guess. Guess I can’t even blame it on the officials ‘cause they’d probably just deny it, let’s be real.”

“You don’t sound like you’ve thought a lot about what it means,” Ochako says sardonically.

He squawks—a little bit like a chicken, she thinks, and curses herself for it (he’s the second-highest ranked hero, Ochako)—and his feathers puff up. “I’ve put a lot of thought into it! It’s my career that’s ending, after all. And yours.”

He pauses for a moment. “It’s not like I’ve made a big deal out of this, but. Everything I say is true, y’know? I don’t really wanna be the number two or number one hero. I’d much rather be a hero without any responsibilities and just a lotta free-time, y’know. A world where there’s no crime or villainy, where the need for people like us is practically zero.”

“…Not gonna lie,” she begins. It’s a little off-putting, the number two hero is right in front of her, having a conversation, who’s less than a decade older than her, and she knows she should be awed. She’s sure Izuku would, if he were in her position. But at this point, she feels comfortable. (And a lot of respect, but that’s to be expected, to be honest.) Maybe it’s a heroic trait? “Whenever the media had anything negative to say about you, it was your supposed laziness.”

She leaves the question hanging unspoken in the air; she can’t outright ask him ‘yo, what’s up, what the fuck are you doing’, can she?

Luckily, he understands her confusion, and chuckles to himself.

“You probably have something driving you to become a hero, don’t you?” he says, almost self-deprecatingly. “Something that drove you to join the League of Villains, too, I’ll bet. Well—ah, it’s a little bit more complicated here, with me. I guess you could call me lazy, if you really wanted. It’s not like I particularly love flyin’ around and making sure everything’s good—ah, no, shit, that makes me sound like a jerk, how do I put it—it’s more as if I was… forced into becoming who I am today, haha. I just—I want a little me time, y’know? Without a next goal, without a next expectation, without a next-next-next.”

She’s silent for a moment, and Hawks blanches.

“Ah, shi—fu—ugh. Don’t… don’t, like, take any of this personally, or whatever, haha? You probably didn’t want to hear any of this. Like, sorry for ventin’ on you, man. Just—ah—anyways. Yeah.”

Ochako, surprisingly, laughs a little too. “Ah—don’t worry! I… think I get you. I didn’t exactly wanna become a hero for the purest reasons either, y’know, like Stain went on and on about All Might and everything…”

“...Stain? Who’s—oh, man, he was the one with the tongue and killed a whole lotta heroes, wasn’t he? I was—I was a little busy ‘round then, and didn’t get much time to check the news for updates. Your classmates were involved in it, though, weren’t they? Heard it from Tsukuyomi! How’re they’re doing?”

“Ah, Tsuku—oh! Tokoyami, you mean? Oh, right, he interned under you, didn’t he! Wow! And yeah, uh, Deku and Iida and Todoroki—they’re probably doing pretty well. There’s a lot going on in school, y’know?”

He smiles. “Yep, sure do! Oh, though—how long have you been with the League? The officials told me to go undercover to gather info and all that, but this was really the first time meeting ‘em all together, so I don’t have much to show.”

“Ah… a couple years, with the end of this one, I guess. I… didn’t make too smart decisions when I was fourteen.”

He whistles. “That’s some time. What made you think this was a good idea?”

“My parents run a construction company,” she confesses. “I—they thought it was a good idea, back in the day, when everything was breaking left and right, but it’s calmed down, and we’re stuck in an area where people aren’t really moving to, so it’s not really needed anymore, so, we’re kinda running on fumes, y’know? I thought it would be a good way to support my parents, with heroism, look how that turned out, haha.”

He hums. “Ahh, I get it.”

“Huh? What? You do?”

“Yep!” he answers, with a thumbs up and a bright grin. “My parents weren’t doing too great financially either—really, when the industry picked me up, that’s when things started to turn out a little better for them. It was one of the reasons I… went along with it, back then.”

“...I’m sorry,” she says, “that must’ve sucked.”

He laughs, and awkwardly pats her on the back. “Don’t worry about it! For me, it’s over now, isn’t it? So—you were saying, about Stain? And the members of the League?”

“Right. I’m not sure how much you know already, so I’ll just go over everybody, I guess? Dabi—the one with the fire quirk, you know him—he came with Toga, who’s got one of those I’ll-inhale-your-blood-then-turn-into-you quirks, after the Stain incident. So they definitely follow Stain’s ideology—which puts me at a little bit of an… difficult position with them, seeing as I’m a little bit of the exact model of a hero who fits in his kill-bill. Well, Toga’s a little bit more of a wild card, she’s… got some sort of weird crush on Stain and De—Midoriya from my class.”

“Stain, huh. He really had a big impact on people for what he did. He was stopped pretty quickly, wasn’t he?”

“He did kill and injure a lot of heroes. Not so much civilians, I think, which makes it a little different than most villain situations. He also liked to talk a lot… especially when it came to be his turn on media, so with his strong… ideals, I guess, it just happened to be easier for him to be heard. That’s the first step to making a difference, whatever it is you want.”

He laughs. “You have a point!”

Before the pro hero can ask about the next villain on their list, Ochako hurries to talk more about Stain. It’s something she’s been meaning to get off her chest for some time now, and why she thinks Hawks will understand or help her, she has no idea, but. She just has to. Maybe it’s part of his ‘pro hero’ act, but she feels strangely comfortable in his presence. As if she can trust him; not as if she just found him collaborating with his very enemies. (Wasn’t that what she was doing?)

“Hawks,” she says, and his eyes look over her worried expression. “I—what makes a good hero? Am I… a bad person, because I wanted to become a hero if it wasn’t for saving people. If it wasn’t entirely selfless, it’s a pretty selfish reason why I wanted to become a hero and to use the same reason to do this, to come here, well—do I—I mean, Iida says that it’s—”

“You’re asking the wrong person,” Hawks says, cutting her off lightheartedly. He lifts his head to the sky—it’s dark out, and there aren’t many stars around, but perhaps to him, there is a sort of beauty in that. “Man, you UA kids are put under a lot of pressure, aren’t you? With the villain attacks and all, geez. And don’t get me started on the bias for getting into the hero system, that doesn’t even affect me much, but I once knew a kid who did—no wonder I didn’t get to go there.”

“You—you didn’t go to UA?” Ochako asks, curious.

“Nah,” he says, waving his hand as if to wave her question off. “Went to Shiketsu, which has its own problems, but no school is perfect.”

He drops his head from the position, and steadily, quietly, says, “But you hear me, yeah? Don’t go putting’ all your eggs in one basket, especially if it’s your own. Even if you’re gonna vent to practically a stranger, here. You don’t need to tell everyone everything, just don’t bottle it all up. You’ll probably get some good advice—especially if you go to one of the heroes you worked under. I’m sure they know you better, and can give you a hand if you let them.”

She hums in assent. “I guess,” she agrees after enduring a moment of his pointed glance. “Is that how the saying goes, though?”

He shrugs, and changes direction. “Anyways—continuing from before! My thoughts on Stain? The industry practically moulded me from when I was a kid to become a hero, so obviously, that’s gonna make me a little selfish compared to someone else! I’m nowhere near the purest idealistic hero you could find, that’d probably be someone like All Might—like Stain was saying, although there shouldn’t be anything necessarily wrong about hero families and legacies or whatever it is they do. It’s just a way of living, isn’t it? So long as you’re not hurting anyone with your actions or motivations, it should be alright, although I do understand some of the stronger opinions.”

“I guess,” she says after a moment, “but I said I wanted to be a hero, that I wanted to save people, and I don’t know if I can, if it’s really what I want and just something I’m taking from De—from someone else. I still want to pay for my family and have everything be okay, but, well. Wanting to save people also feels a little guilty, y’know? Like I’m doing it to make up for a mistake.”

◇

“I am here!” All Might booms, and at this point, she’s seen his ritual with Izuku often enough to know what’s going to happen.

“See ya, Deku,” she says, and with the rest of their table, they wave him off.

Thankfully, he hasn’t quite stood up yet or packed his things (too busy panicking, she knows that expression when she sees it) when All Might announces that it is instead her that he wants to see.

“Me?” she can’t help but ask, surprised, and he grins and gives her a thumbs-up.

“Yes, you! Please, if you will give me a few minutes of your time?”

“Alright,” she says, as she whispers a ‘take care of my stuff, please’ to Iida, and meets the mighty hero in the hallway. She wonders if they found out about the League.

“Walk with me for a moment?” he asks.

“Okay,” she says, and he leads her to a separate room that she knows as the one he talks with Izuku in. “What’s up, sir?”

“Nothing—well, ah, not quite nothing. I had—spoken with Present Mic, a few days, ago, and an—something occurred to me. If I am overstepping my bounds or am incorrect, please, feel free to correct me and I will let you go back to your friends.”

Definitely sounds like he knows about her odd past-time.

“Go ahead,” she says, barely keeping her calm.

“Uraraka, my girl, do you—do you, by any chance, resent me? Or—or feel uncomfortable, perhaps? If—if there’s any sort of misunderstandings between us, I’d love to clear them up.”

“That’s odd,” she says, bluntly. “Are you sure you’re feeling okay, sir?”

“Wh—Yes, my girl! Am I—am I incorrect in my assumption?”

“No,” she says, after a moment. “I suppose you are—you aren’t, but it doesn’t really matter, sir! I have nothing against you personally, I think. It’s just—some things I need to get over with, myself, and I need to understand. After all, I’m aiming to become a hero, aren’t I?”

“Young Uraraka,” he begins, equally hesitant. “You do not—do not feel obligated, by any means to—well—”, and Ochako takes pity on the man.

“I do not resent you,” she says slowly, thinking carefully about each word. “I do not resent you, but I don’t—it’s not easy, for me either. I don’t blame you, just—”

“Uraraka,” he tries to interrupt, perhaps a little impatient.

Ochako exhales through her nose and her fists clench unconsciously. Her nails dig into her palm and she tells herself to calm down. Aloud, she says, “Sir, please, let me say this. Just—I’m sorry you have to be the one hearing this, but I do—you came here, and I do think it is something I have to get out, y’know? I—I think I’ve always been a bit irrational, y’know? My parents are construction workers, and—and, once, they told me that they moved to Musutafu because there was potential for their business, because of the danger and the destruction that used to happen twenty years ago. They told me that the—they could have been something more, sir. I just—I don’t know. I can’t.”

“I’m sorry,” he says, at last. “I—”

“I don’t want to hear your apologies, sir,” she answers, with a finality he has not heard in so long. It’s an honest finality she hasn’t heard in herself in so long, either. “I don’t blame you, sir. I don’t—I don’t blame you, and I should be thanking you. For saving so many people’s lives, and making this Japan such a better place than it would be. So thank you. Being a hero means making compromises and sacrifice, doesn’t it?”

◇

“Ah—!” Momo says as the study group gets up to head back to her dorm room. “Uraraka, would you mind if I talked to you for a moment, before you leave? It’ll just be a moment, I promise.”

“Sure!” she says, “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing in particular,” she says. “But—ah, I’m sorry, but I had some questions regarding our class and was talking to Iida, and he mentioned you had a little bit of a financial issue..? I’m very sorry to pry into your affairs, and please don’t blame him, it was an accident and I was pressuring him a little bit and he does want to help you as well—”

“What is it, Momo?” she’s a little tired, she supposes, and it’s not like her to take it out on other people, but it can’t be said that it isn’t a touchy topic for her.

“I’m sorry,” she says, picking up on Ochako’s thoughts. “I apologize if this is… too personal and you’d rather me back off.”

There is hesitancy in her voice, and she knows that Momo only wants to help.

“Don’t worry!” she says with a fake smile and a cheer. “I’ll let you know if I’d rather move on from the subject. What is it?”

“I—if it’s necessary, Uraraka, I can—my family, we can help you? If—if you need to? I’m really sorry, and this is really awkward, and I would like to do this in a less embarrassing manner for the both of us, but if there’s anything that you need help with, you’re free to come to me or Iida, yes?”

She thinks Momo is guilty. She thinks she feels—somehow—responsible for Ochako’s poor circumstances. She wants to say help, but she cannot accept it.

She laughs, a little bit thrown off. “Thank you,” she says at first, trying to reorganize her thoughts. “But I—I don’t think that’s necessary. For now, uh, we pretty much have things handled. I’ll—I’ll keep that in mind, though. Thanks again, Yaomomo.”

They both know she has too much pride to come again.

She tells herself she’s being independent.

(She knows Momo understands—she wants to reach the top out of her own power. She doesn’t want help, she wants to be strong.)

(Like Deku?)

◇

Is it a crush that she has, or is it an infatuation? Is it an unconditional loyalty (it isn’t, it can’t be), is it endless admiration? Is it a desire to copy, to be, or is it one to be with? There is a difference she didn’t realize before. It is too late to sort these feelings from one another.

What is a crush?

Why is that what people think she has?

(She probably does—but feelings come later. With feelings, she can get attached and slip up. She can make mistakes, she can lose the game.)

To her, a crush is an appreciation, isn’t it? Is that why she gets all blushy and heart-fluttery? Is that why her blood rushes to her face, because most of the time she isn’t embarrassed (or at least she shouldn’t be—!) so what else could it be?

(She just wants to go back in time and fix everything. If not that, become strong and powerful and influential and the best so she can fix things in the present.)

She is told she has a crush on Izuku, and she should deny it, she really should. She can’t do anything—she can’t succeed—when she is preoccupied with feelings. So, what are her options?

She can fight, of course. She can fight it, she can pretend it doesn’t exist (what do you mean that isn’t an option? it’s what she’s doing, isn’t it, and isn’t she succeeding?), she can put anything and everything aside until it is ‘time’ to face her consequences.

She is only fifteen—soon, sixteen—but it is never too early to learn that actions have consequences. Feelings have consequences, Ochako, and she knows that, she does, but…? 

(But she doesn’t, she’s told, because age is not just more than a number; it is a story of how long you have lived and how long you have learned. For her, at least. Because it’s always in middle school, in elementary school, where they tell tales about the less fortunate and their struggles and how you have to donate and be kind and be a hero. When she was seven, maybe, she wanted a hero. Now? She wants to be her own hero. She wants to be her parents’ hero.

They love her. She loves them, too. Does she blame them for their faults, for their family’s lackings? Perhaps. But she is the one who has learned that once something has happened, there is no point in turning around and mourning an opportunity lost. She cannot. Her parents taught her that, and she has learned.)

She can accept it. She can fall whim to her feelings of adoration, with no one to direct her otherwise. She can fall whim to her impulses (she is already doing that, though?) and observe but not understand. She can follow mindlessly, she can follow mindfully, she can accept her misgivings and that it ‘is [her] quirk’, and her brain and her actions that have consequences.

Her consequences, her actions. When has she learned? Because she hasn’t, no, not really. She needs to. Momo told her to think, but when did she learn? Where did she learn? She learned much under Gunhead and sure, she got chewed out by Ryukyu, but when did she screw up so bad she needed to get her head together and learn? Never, not until this. Except it isn’t over, as much as she wishes it was, and she hasn’t learned. She needs to, yes?

She can accept it, or she can reject it: the fact that she loves in spades, the fact that she loves with all her heart, truly too much. She doesn’t understand the meaning of moderation, and that, that is her problem, isn’t it? Not that she’s not passionate enough, about being a hero, but simply too much. Never take too little, but don’t take too much—everyone needs balance and that is something she doesn’t have.

(She’s only fifteen; why is this affecting her future so much? Why is every action she makes as a troubled child hoping for the best moulding her very life into something irreconcilable? She’s only fifteen, shouldn’t she have time for mistakes? At least one?)

That is who she is, though, isn’t it? Uraraka Ochako—UA’s prized traitor because of a decision made too young, of a love too strong, of indecisiveness and a pride she looks down upon.

She asked for respect, and she eventually gets it. The result was just not what she intended.

◇

Ochako forces herself to breathe. Slowly, one at a time. She can take things slowly, she reminds herself.

“Uraraka?” and she turns in response, eyes looking up to find the voice because she’s still out of it, just off the border of a panic attack. Maybe.  

“Yes?” Ochako answers. “What’s—can I help with something?”

“No,” Ryukyu says. “I just finished sending the reports over, and the case is completed. Thank you, Uraraka, for your hard work today.”

“No problem!” she says, grinning brightly (and pushing all other thoughts to the back of her head where they’ll come up later, when she’s alone) and giving Ryukyu a thumbs-up. “And thank you for having me around!”

“Yes,” she says, smiling. “Give Asui my thanks, as well, won’t you? I didn’t get a chance to talk to her properly after the police arrived. After all, I suppose you will be returning to back to your studies properly soon, won’t you?”

“Yes, of course!”

“Great, thank you.”

“Um—is there anything else you needed?” Ochako asks after Ryukyu doesn’t leave.

“There is,” she answers, “do you have time? You aren’t—you aren’t trying to catch a train or something else on a time limit? If you are, of course, we can have the conversation later.”

“Ah, no, it’s fine. What’s up, Ryukyu?”

“Is—is everything alright, Uraraka? At home, or at school, or outside of those? You just seemed—”

“Sorry,” Ochako cuts her off, “I know I was off today! I shouldn’t’ve hesitated, but I’ll do better next time, I promise.”

“Oh, no, that’s not—that’s not what I was getting at! We all have our off days, and you’re learning. You’re doing great, Uraraka. But… if you have anything you’d like to share or talk to someone about, confide in… I’m here for you, okay? Not just as your employer. You just looked like you were having—well, anyways, you definitely seem very tired and stressed, and we’re all worried about you. Even Asui—she came to me to ask about you, actually. Don’t overwork yourself, please.”

“Yes, of course, I’ll do better.”

“That’s not—Uraraka, that’s not what I’m saying. If you have any… doubts, or concerns, or fears, or anything, please, you can tell me. It doesn’t even have to be me, you can talk to any of your classmates, I’m sure, or one of your teachers. We can help.”

“Thank you,” she says, “but I don’t—I don’t—I’m okay, really. Even—even if there is something, that’s not… perfect, it’s not something you can help me with.”

“Just talking helps, Uraraka,” Ryukyu answers. “And we can do more than you might believe us to do. It’s okay if you don’t want to share, Uraraka, but please remember that my door will always be open. You’re not alone, all Pro Heroes have their own insecurities, doubts and fears. We help each other.”

“Thank you, really,” Ochako says, then after a moment, speaks up. Ryukyu had patted her on the shoulder before turning away, but she stops when she hears Ochako’s next words. “Actually—actually, Ryukyu, can I ask you a question?”

“Of course,” she says with a smile.

“When you—when you make a really, really big mistake… how do you—what—what do you do? And you really, really regret it, but you can’t—there’s—you can’t think of anything to do. What—how—?”

“Take things slowly,” Ryukyu says in response, guiding her down to a bench. “Breathe, and why don’t you start from the start, sweetie?”

“I—I can’t, it’s—there’s too much and I don’t—I don’t get it, I don’t know what to do, Ryukyu—”

“Okay, deep breaths. In, out. Is this—is this related to your family back home? Or is this something at school, or an extracurricular? Let’s start simple, sweetie, okay?”

“Yeah—yeah, okay. Right. Um—a little extracurricular and—and family, I guess, but they don’t know and I can’t tell them, I can’t tell anybody—”

“Deep breaths, okay? Take your time, do you want to call your parents that you’re here, first? We can work this out, and I can take you back if it gets too dark, okay? That sound okay?”

“Yeah—yeah. Okay. I can—I can do that.”

Ryukyu waits patiently for her to finish the text message before prompting further, “You don’t have to tell me any details you don’t want to, and I won’t pry. If I ask something you don’t want to share, just tell me and I’ll back off, okay? Head up, and don’t be afraid to cry. All heroes cry, sweetie. You with me?”

Ochako nods, and Ryukyu continues.

“Good. Good. Okay—so—uh, let’s start simple, and you can be as vague as you need to; why do you think you screwed up so badly?”

“I—I made a really stupid decision when I was—a few years ago. I promised some people some stuff, and I—I can’t do this, Ryukyu. I can’t tell you, I’m so sorry—”

“Take your time,” she says, ever-patient. “Uraraka, is someone going to hurt you?”

“No,” she says, panicked. Then, she takes a deep breath and repeats, firmly, “No, no, I’m not. I’m—I’m okay, sorry—”

“Don’t apologize,” Ryukyu says, frowning. “Nobody’s going to hurt you, uh, that’s good. Why are you—why are you scared, darling?”

“I don’t—I promised them, those people, that I’d do—that’d I help them. But I don’t want to, not anymore, not for so, so, long. But I’m—I’m so scared that they—they won’t hurt me, but they might hurt my parents or—or someone else I know.”

“Can you tell me who these people are, Uraraka? Maybe I can help,” her mentor says, to which Ochako furiously shakes her head.

“No, no, I—you can, Ryukyu, but—but just not right now, okay? Later. Later, you can.”

“Okay,” she says, accepting the promise. “Okay, just let me know when you want my help. It doesn’t even have to be me, sweetie, anybody will do; whether you tell your parents, or your homeroom teacher, or anyone else. You can trust us, Uraraka. Can you—can you tell me why you did this? You can’t quit?”

“I—I could have, but I didn’t, and now I can’t, not when it’s—it’s too late. I thought—I thought I could be strong, and—and I see everybody being so good at everything they do, and I really, really wanted to help my parents, but—but I don’t know, I don’t know, Ryukyu. I don’t know what to do, help me, please.”

“Uraraka, sweetie,” Ryukyu says, “I’m going to take a shot in the dark, here, but… you don’t have to do anything special to be good. You don’t have to be strong like your classmates, or strong like—like All Might or Thirteen, or any of your classmates or friends. You don’t have to. Everybody has their own kind of strong, their own skills, their own brave, and you, Uravity, are one of the strongest girls I’ve seen. I took you as my intern, you know? Because you’re a good person. You and Tsuyu, you have big hearts and you have a lot of strength within and outside. Imitation—Imitating others, whether your favourite hero, or your idol, or your best friend, that’s not going to help you. That’s not the answer, sweetie. You just—believe in yourself, Uraraka, and everyone is behind you, supporting you. We’re behind you, every step of the way. It’s not bad to ask for help or to take your time. Be your own kind of strong, Uraraka Ochako.”

◇

She steps in the room and smiles.

◇

“Miss Uraraka!” she hears, and she turns to look. She’s also caught red-handed sneaking back into the dorms. She’s also got half her disguise on. “Isn’t that curious!”

“Aoyama!” she greets in response. “What are you doing out so late?”

“I could ask you the same thing, mademoiselle, ” he responds. “I wake up early in the morning, that is all! And you?”

“Aha,” she laughs, nervously. “I don’t sleep well, so I like to go out sometimes, to clear my head.”

“Is that so?” he says, smiling. Ochako can’t tell whether it’s genuine; the smile doesn’t quite meet his eyes, and he looks on, judgingly and intrigued at the same time.

“Yes,” she says, “and I’m a little tired, so I’d like to get another few minutes of sleep if I can before class. See ya around, Aoyama!”

“One more thing, Miss Uraraka! Where did you get the disguise? It looks so spectacularly flashy, if I do say so myself.”

“Disguise?” she laughs, “What do you mean? These are ah—just some stuff I brought with me. You can get most of these at a thrift shop, probably.”

“Is that so?” he hums. “Perhaps I shall get some of my own, in case of late-night sneaking about. Miss Uraraka, if I may, you don’t happen to know anything about the League of Villains, do you?”

Ochako freezes. “The League..? No, why? I mean, like, other than the fact that they attacked us numerous times? Tries to take Bakugou captive, and all that?”

“Yes,” he says, “indeed. Though, I must say your behaviour is quite suspicious! Perhaps you shall let the teachers know if something arrives, oui, mademoiselle?”

“I assure you,” Ochako says, trying to keep her voice steady, “if I do learn anything, Mr. Aizawa will be the first to know. Or would you rather I come to you, instead?”

“No need!” he says, smiling. It still doesn’t reach his eyes, and Ochako feels as if her every move is being analyzed and cross-checked. “Simply the teachers would be enough. Please, do not feel as if I am accusing you, Miss Uraraka! I was simply inquiring. Please, go on! I’ll see you in class.”

◇

“Ochako, sweetie?” her mother asks as she enters back home.

“Yes?” she answers, putting away her shoes at the door and hanging her jacket up.

“Come along to the living room, we have a light snack prepared for you, thanks to your—thanks to the money you’ve been sending along. Your father’s out with a client, but he’ll be back along, shortly. Maybe in a half hour, and he told us not to wait up, so come along! We’ve missed you so much, y’know, darling.”

“Wow!” she says, pressing her fingertips together. She finds her mother finishing some last-minute cleaning and the two hug. She loves her mother’s hugs; the perfect height ratio and her mother radiates calm heat. She loves her mother’s hugs; years of hardworking construction has given her strength and a comfortable, supportive body, yet soft enough to avoid hard edges and pointy shoulders. “It’s been awhile, ma, you didn’t have to—”

“Nonsense,” her mother tuts. “We haven’t seen you at all since you’ve moved into the dorms! What kind of parents would we be if we didn’t celebrate all your successes?”

“I haven’t been very successful,” Ochako admits, looking down, pulling off. “I could’ve done so much more, ma, but I didn’t, and—”

“You made it into UA,” her mother reminds. “That’s good enough for us; sweetie, we’re so proud of you, you know that right? No matter what.”

“What’s the point of getting into UA if I won’t be able to become a hero, ma? A good hero?”

Her mother presses a soft kiss to her forehead, and holds her head. “Ochako, let me tell you something: it doesn’t matter to either of us whether you are the best hero out there. It matters to us if you’re happy, if you’re satisfied, if you’re in a better place. If you’ve got a good life ahead of you, yeah? Can you tell us that you’re doing everything you can to get that?”

Ochako pauses. “Yeah, I got it, mama.”

“And?” she prompts.

“...Not yet,” she says. She doesn’t like lying to her parents (she has to, sometimes, though). “I’m—I’ll work it on it.”

“What’s troubling you, sweetie?” her mother is too kind, sometimes.

“It’s a lot of things,” she answers. “It’s—school is hard, and everybody is so good at everything, and I’m just—I know I’m not meant to be a front-line type of hero, like you know I want to be more of a rescue hero like Thirteen, but… even then, I need to be good at fighting, at protecting people, and I just… can’t. I’m not good enough. I’m—I’ve made too many mistakes, mama.”

“Mistakes are a big part of growing older, and just look at you! You’re maturing so fast, you’re growing and learning so quickly, Ochako. You’re as good as you think you are, and that fight of yours? In the sports festival—I’ll admit I haven’t seen much of your other events during the year—but that was something! Your teacher said it best, didn’t he? That your opponent was respecting you.”

“Yeah, but I lost.”

“Does it matter? Ochako, honey, you got the student who won the entire festival to respect your power. You are as good as you think you are, you need to respect yourself if you are going to get others to respect you and if you are to succeed. Nobody will listen to you if you don’t listen to yourself. And that’s not the kind of ‘I’m listening to myself think’, but you need to listen to yourself as you tell you that you are good enough. When you think you’ve worked hard enough, that’s somewhere.”

“Not if everyone else is working harder, or doing better. I just—I don’t feel like I’m going anywhere, and I’m constantly reminded how I could have done better, been smarter, and—”

“Ochako,” her mother says firmly. “You need to stop and think. Think, use that brain of yours! You’re smart and you’re good with people, and you’ve practiced so hard. If you—if you need to take time off, or take a break, or put off some extracurriculars, and even drop that job of yours for the time being, that’s okay! I can talk to your teachers or your classmates’ parents, or whatever it is that needs to be done if someone’s telling you you’re not good enough. There’s a difference between putting someone down and helpful suggestions, Ochako. Your father and I—we’re here for you, no matter what.”

“—It doesn’t matter if you’re good, if you’ve got a good heart, if you just want to do right, because it’s never enough, it’s not good enough you have to be good at fighting too, you have to be able to hurt people and I don’t want to do that mama, but I’ve got to and I already have and—”  

“Breathe, Ochako,” her mother soothes, and she strokes her back. “Breathe, baby. I’ve got you. So long as you let me, I always will.”

“You mean that?” she says, and it’s not supposed to be that dramatic. It’s supposed to be a reassurance, it’s supposed to be a supportive action, and yet here she is—the fifteen-year-old worried sick and stressed out.

“Yes, of course! Seriously, darlin’, you need some more rest. Take a break, don’t wind yourself up too tight. We can handle ourselves just fine, Ochako, we won’t miss it if you take a break from your part-time job. I can’t imagine how strenuous that must be, being in contact with someone all the way out here while you’re training hard at UA. Your exams and marks are still doing well, yeah?”

“No! I—I mean, yeah, my marks are doin’ fine. I’m on top of everything, I promise. I’m handling everything great, don’t worry, ma! I—I can’t quit just now, they really need me right now because of—’cause of how much more work they’ve got comin’ in right now. I’m taking care of myself and my studies all right, I promise, ma.”

“If you say so,” she says. “I trust you, sweetie. But don’t force yourself to do something you don’t want to do, alright? You’re strong enough, baby. We’re behind you every step of the way, but you know that, don’t you? Speaking of your father—why don’t you get ready to hide? I’ve got my clues set up, and he’s had a long day. He’ll be so happy to see you again, ha.”

“Oh, you’ll be so glad I didn’t try to prank you, ma,” Ochako says, and her grin returns. Her family is first, after all. She wouldn’t miss this time for the world.

(She loves them, and they love her, and together that’s all that matters, right?)

◇