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The scent of strong (albeit cheap) alcohol and cigarettes starches the air around them, and Ochako can’t help the smile that stretches across her face. As she walks through the busting, laughing, happy crowd, she adjusts the string of pearls hanging around her neck and dripping down her chest. She feels pretty, dressed like this, and she hadn’t expected something as juvenile as that to feel so very good.
But it has certainly brightened her mood and so it doesn’t really matter if she hadn’t expected it. All that matters is her friends around her and the smiles on their faces.
When she manages to reach the table where her friends are all seated, she squeezes into a seat between Tsuyu and Midoriya, who looks rather dashing in his suit, and she calls a cheerful greeting to the group. They all call a greeting of their own in return and, well, Ochako’s smile grows by the second.
“Who’s winning?” Ochako leans over to Izuku, voice almost a hiss.
“No one, as of yet.” Izuku hisses back, eyes glued to the card game he has subsequently lost, “I do know that it isn’t me.”
Ochako giggles behind a hand, and Izuku smiles at her. This brings a faint warmth to her cheeks but they both ignore it, for different reasons. One of which might be naivety on Izuku’s part. For Ochako, it’s something far different.
But she gently pushes the thought from her mind and takes a sip from the cup in her hands. The alcohol burns pleasantly as it goes down her throat, though it’s a faint burn, and she finds herself humming faintly, pleased. She won’t get drunk tonight, no, but she’ll probably be a little tipsy by the end of the night. Perhaps if she stumbles, Izuku will hold her hand.
No, she tells herself, you can’t think like that.
This is easier said than done but, as Ochako has discovered, changing one's thoughts and feelings is not as simple a task as she had once thought. She’d been trying for years to fall out of love with Izuku Midoriya, but there is a significant problem with that, this being the fact that one does not simply fall out of love with someone as phenomenal as Izuku Midoriya. She’d fallen for him for a reason, after all, and she’s not nearly flighty enough to fall for the first man that treats her like a gem. There’s just something about Izuku, he always seems like he actually hears her and actually sees her. His eyes always fall on her and stay there and it’s wonderful as it is embarrassing.
He’s a bit inept, Izuku, and he stares and holds eye contact in longer segments than is comfortable, but it’s all so wonderfully intriguing. It’s the sort of thing that makes you want to know more about him.
When the next round of cards is dealt, Ochako declines any offer to join the game, but when the next round of drinks is purchased, she accepts with a flush and a ‘oh, well, if you insist.’ She hates not being able to just say ‘yes, please’ or something of the like, but societal rules must be obeyed. Besides, her goal isn’t going to be achieved if she carries herself like a work mule. She can’t help find her parents’ lives if she acts all rude (and marries a man as near-penniless as Izuku Midoriya).
So she sits daintily one the edge of her seat, fiddling with the string of pearls around her neck and holding her wine glass in an elegant, gloved hand. She tilts her head just so when a question is cast her way and she puts a smile in her eyes as she answers, doing her best to wield her so-called ‘feminine charm’ in a way similar to how Momo Yaoyorozu does it. That young woman is a swordsman among the mundane, so good at weaving men and women alike into her trap before charming them so deeply they never know what hit them. Momo is mysterious, beautiful, and just the slightest bit timid when she needs to be, and Ochako is never sure she could measure up.
She and Momo had spent many an afternoon discussing men and the pickings in town. Momo had told her that she wished for someone smart, someone clever, and so Ochako had suggested Izuku because he’s clever and smart. This had puzzled Momo and she’d said she would think. Then she had spun back around and jokingly suggested Kirishima to Ochako. This had resulted in laughter.
Though he may be nearly the perfect gentleman, Kirishima is about as queer as one can get. Neither of them fault him for it, but he is certainly not going to be marrying a woman if he can help it. And, well, Ochako is beginning to wish she had been born a man and didn’t have to worry about marriage and how advantageous it would have to be. If she were a man, she could get a job and other such things, support herself, the works. But here she is, a woman, in 1924. Those two things don’t go well together.
“Ochako.” Tsuyu says, leaning closer to speak quieter, “Something on your mind? You seem a little far off.”
“Just thinking.” She says, shaking off her thoughts.
“If you’re sure.” Tsuyu nods, reaching over and adjusting Ochako’s hair ribbon.
Ochako nods, “I’m sure, Tsu. Thanks.”
Tsuyu nods again and looks back at the game. She isn’t playing either, so the two of them fall into a comfortable silence as they observe and listen to the banter that is passed around the table like a cigarette.
Unfortunately, it isn’t a particularly intriguing game, and it’s over within a few moments as Bakugou wins. Unsurprising, really, but Ochako only smiles as the few players express their disappointment. She can tell it’s not truly real, but it’s still there. No one likes losing.
“Hey,” Kirishima says, eyes sparkling, “Why don’t we go carolling?”
The suggestion seems to come from nowhere and Ochako, along with nearly everyone else, blinks in surprise at him for a long moment. Someone wonders aloud just how much Kirishima had had to drink, as none of them are singers and few of them are actually any good at singing, but Kirishima stands up, excitement clear in his gaze, and he stands by what he said.
“Come on!” He says, “It’ll be fun! It’s almost Christmas and, well, it snowed.”
“We could get arrested for disturbance.” Momo protests weakly.
“In this part of town?” Kirishima tilts his head to the side. “This is the part of town with the couples that scream at each other each night, with the kids than scream in the streets every day. We’ll be fine.”
And, well, none of them could argue with that logic so, in a few moments, they were all finished paying the bartender for their drinks and were all bundling up. Ochako fastens the buttons of her coat, making sure it falls nicely over her dress, and then she pulls her hat over her head and her muffler around her neck. It’s cold outside, freezing, and she doesn’t want to get sick.
As she’s adjusting her gloves once more, Kirishima says, “Alright, everyone ready?”
There’s a chorus of various affirmatives, and then the group is all headed outside.
And Ochako feels a smile finding its way onto her face.
————————————
They’re all halfway through ‘Jingle Bells,’ laughing hysterically, when Izuku stumbles and falls on his back in the snow.
This just sends them all into another round of laughter, voices barely clinging to the tune of the song, and Ochako rushes over to help him up, offering her hands as a smile splits her face. He grins up at her, cheeks dimling, and he takes her hands. Together, they get him standing again, and Ochako plants a kiss on his cheek when he’s up. She has to stand on her toes to do it, but she manages.
When she pulls away and stands flat on her feet, Izuku’s cheeks are flushed. Ochako blames it on the cold and grabs his hand, dragging him back to the group.
Tsuyu puts an arm around her waist and Izuku gets Kirishima’s arm thrown over his shoulders, and the group makes their way down the snowy street, launching into a rather messy rendition of ‘Angels We Have Heard On High.’ It’s fun, loud, and barely resembles a song at all, but Ochako sings along with all her might, Izuku’s fingers firmly laced with hers. Anyone might think the members of the group are insane, but none of them truly care at all.
As they wander, a few people stop and join them for a song or two before heading on their way, smiling and waving and exchanging well wishes. ‘Merry Christmas’s and other cries are shouted to the rooftops, joy is rampant in the air, and Ochako had never been so glad to go out in the cold. She can’t feel her nose, she’s sure it’s running by now, but why should she care?
She has her friends around her and Christmas is around the corner. That’s all she needs, all things considered.
And, of course, she has Izuku’s hand in hers.
What more could she want?
Well, she wants him to have more money so she can marry him without worry, but that’s aside from the point.
By this point, they’ve dropped off Momo at the gates to her massive house, and the group is beginning to grow smaller and more spread-thin. The songs continue, they’re singing ‘Winter Wonderland’ now, but the singing grows quieter as more voices leave. It’s still fun, Ochako can still feel the joy churning in her veins, but it’s no longer at it’s peak.
“Uraraka.” Izuku’s voice makes her jump.
She turns to look up at him. “Yes?”
“What’s on your mind?” And the way Izuku tilts his head ever so faintly to the side is so horribly charming that Ochako might just die.
But she swallows this feeling and manages to reply, “Oh, nothing.”
“Really?” He doesn’t believe her, he’s always been able to see right through her. “Just tell me what you’re thinking about.”
She can’t rightly say ‘you,’ can she? So Ochako swallows and smiles at him, trying her best to lie convincingly, “I’m alright, Midoriya. I promise.”
“If you say so.” Izuku nods, smile returning in blinding force.
Ochako wants to kiss it, wonders what his mouth would feel like against hers. But she can’t say any of that out loud and she settles on returning his smile. Then the two of them continue walking with their friends, making their way down a snow covered lane as the group launches into a messy rendition of ‘Silver Bells.’
When Ochako comes back to the present, she notices that their friends are all a bit ahead of them. So she grabs Izuku’s hand and dashes forward, laughing as she pulls him along. Izuku yelps as he is pulled but quickly recovers and races after her. They catch up with the group quickly, and no one really noticed they were gone. That’s a good thing, really, because if anyone had noticed then she and Izuku would have been teased to high heaven and back.
Ochako joins the song once more, despite the fact that she doesn’t really know the lyrics all that well, making them up when she isn’t sure.
But as they all keep singing, the evening catches up with her, and Ochako can’t help how tired she feels all of a sudden. She stumbles once or twice and, with not enough alcohol in her body to blame it on, she eventually gives in and says she’ll be heading home.
The group offers to walk her, but Izuku quickly says, “No, I’ll take her.”
Kirishima raises his eyebrows. “Are you sure, Midoriya?”
“Yeah, yeah, I’ll catch up.” Izuku nods, smile charming as ever, “Go on.”
“Alright. Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do.” Kirishima smiles.
Izuku flushes, though it’s rather invisible behind the flush in his face from the cold. “Shut up, Kirishima.”
The group laughs and turns to leave, all waving goodbye to the two of them. Ochako smiles and calls her goodbyes in return, waving. And, when they’re all around the corner and their voices are just an echo, she turns to Izuku.
Izuku offers her his arm. “Well, miss? Shall we?”
Ochako can’t help the bashful smile on her face. She takes his arm and nods a little, “We shall.”
And with that, they turn and start walking in the direction of Ochako’s house.
————————————
They arrive at her apartment building without much trouble, only running into one or two snowbanks that Izuku would never admit to tripping over. And now they’re standing together at the door, face to face.
The light coming from the lamp post across the street makes Izuku look gilded, magical, and Ochako watches as he smiles at her again, his dimples swallowing a handful of freckles each.
“Well,” she says, fidgeting with the sleeves of her coat. “Goodnight.”
Izuku nods, “Goodnight.”
Ochako smiles and turns to the door, pulling out her key to unlock it.
But a hand stops her and she looks back and up again at Izuku. She blinks in confusion for a moment. He seems to hesitate, biting his lip and averting his eyes.
Ochako waits for him to collect his thoughts.
What he says is not what she had expected: “Marry me.”
Ochako balks at him, jaw falling slack. Then she says, “Izuku, we can’t. You know we can’t.”
“But why can’t we?” Izuku asks, voice hushed, “You love me, don’t you?”
“I do.” Ochako nods, “I do.”
“Then why?” Izuku asks again.
“Because I need to support my parents.” Ochako whispers, “I could never make enough money on my own and you… you’re not…”
Izuku sighs and pushes his hand through his hair. They both fall silent for a long moment.
Then Izuku says, “Then I’ll make money. I’ll get another job, I’ll work harder.”
“Midoriya, you can’t-”
“I can.” Izuku insists, taking her hands in his. “I can, Uraraka, and I will. Just trust me.”
And if that isn’t all she can do. She swallows and stares up at him, nodding. “Okay. I trust you.”
“I’ll make money, lots of it. Then we can get married.” Izuku says firmly, squeezing her hands.
Ochako stares at him. Then she nods, blushing for a reason beyond the cold. “Alright. Just don’t work yourself to the bone.”
“I’ll try.” Izuku says.
“No,” Ochako says, “Promise me.”
“Only if you promise to accept my real proposal when it comes.” Izuku’s grip tightens on her hands.
Ochako tilts her head to the side. “Was this not a real one?”
“I don’t have a diamond yet.” Izuku shakes his head, “But when I’ve got one and when I’ve got a million dollars, I’ll ask again. Promise me you’ll accept me.”
“A million-”
“Promise me.”
Izuku looks so determined and so earnest that all Ochako can do is agree.
“I promise.” She whispers.
“And I promise I won’t kill myself in the process.” Izuku smiles at her, eyes glittering.
“You had better hold up your end of the bargain.” Ochako breathes, voice shaking.
“I’ll do my best.” Izuku murmurs, hand coming up to cup her jaw and, before she knows it, he’s kissing her. It’s soft, chaste, and his lips are so chapped, but they’re also blisteringly warm. Ochako’s eyes flutter closed and she tries her best to commit the shape of his mouth to memory, his cupid’s bow and the little divot of a scar on the left side.
He pulls away too soon and gives her a smile. “Goodnight, Ochako.”
And Ochako is too breathless to reply.
He’s off like a shot, running through the snow to rejoin their friends, and Ochako can see his smile. She hears him whoop and cheer when he’s around the corner, where he thinks she wont’ hear, and she brings her gloved fingers to her lips, a slow, adoring smile spreading on her face.
She decides then and there that, even if he doesn’t have a million dollars, even if he hasn’t a penny when he ever asks again, she’ll always say yes.
The million dollars would just be a happy accident.