Archive of Our Own

Uraraka Ochako, model UV1DFT05F4, begins her life just like any other android. She is built, tested for safety purposes and tweaked here and there, and then shut down until purchased. She holds no subconscious or human mental abilities, and so she does not dream, simply in a state of unbeing until she is packaged and shipped off to the house of whoever decides to buy her. Even then, she does not turn on until her new owner decrees it via app on their phone or the pink button on her temple.

She specializes in moving heavy objects. Although she is built to look like a woman in her mid-twenties, perhaps even younger depending on who you’re asking, her specific model is meant to lift, move and carry around objects too heavy for humans to lift. From simply heavy boxes to full blown vehicles to much more, Uraraka Ochako is the android version of a superhuman body-lifter without the pronounced muscles and years of training.

Perhaps that is why she is confused when, after she is turned on and asks what her task is, her owner—or, more precisely, owners —tell her she doesn’t have to do anything.

“I do not have to do anything?” Ochako’s job is to perform tasks too difficult for mere humans. She is not meant to simply be on and not doing anything; as an android, she is meant to be busy or shut off until needed once more.

The woman standing before her shakes her head with a small little laugh. She has sleek black hair tied up in a ponytail with one strand loose, the color matching her eyes. She stands beside a man around the same height but with spiky blond hair and bright red eyes. One scan lets her know they are Yaoyorozu Momo and Bakugou Katsuki, ages 27 and 28 respectively. Ochako downloads everything there is to know about the two so she may address them properly.

“No, no! We don’t have anything for you to move or anything,” Yaoyorozu replies with a wave of her hand. “We’re moving soon though, so we’ll need you then—”

“It’d be fuckin’ creepy to have an inanimate android just sitting in the apartment,” Bakugou interrupts with a roll of his eyes.

Yaoyorozu gives him a patient look that appears clearly practiced. Ochako recalls the tidbit of information explaining the dynamic of their relationship, understands this to be normal behavior, and thus doesn’t interfere. After all, she is an android; she is not meant to question the actions her owners make and the roles they play in society. She is merely meant to serve when needed and lay dormant when not, and now is no exception, so she merely stares as Bakugou is lightly reprimanded for his attitude in front of Ochako.

“We still have to sign some paperwork with the house, but you arrived earlier than expected,” Yaoyorozu continues. “A whole two weeks early, in fact! But that’s okay, you can get to know us better in the meantime.”

Bakugou crosses his arms over his chest. “I’m sure Roundface here already knows us down to our blood type and marital status. There’s no need for her to ‘get to know us’.”

“Roundface?” Ochako inquires, genuinely confused.

“Your new name.” He jabs a finger in Yaoyorozu’s direction. “This is Ponytail. Remember that.”

Ochako already has the new information catalogued before Yaoyorozu exclaims, “Katsuki! Don’t tell her that, that’s not true. Uraraka—”

“Roundface,” Bakugou corrects, if only to piss her off.

Yaoyorozu sighs. “ Katsuki. ” Bakugou just smirks. “Uraraka, you can call me Yaomomo. Katsuki is either Bakugou or Katsuki.”

“Understood,” Ochako says. She keeps ‘Roundface’ as a name to respond to and ‘Ponytail’ as a nickname for Yaoyorozu anyway, but adds ‘Yaomomo’ as instructed.

With that, Yaoyorozu smiles once more, satisfied. Ochako is not made to feel, but if she had been wired to be an android with artificial emotions rather than needing to download software for that capability, she would be falling in love with that smile already. Bakugou’s grin is evil and ugly, but Yaoyorozu’s is that of a calm summer breeze swirling above the salty sea. Ochako makes a personal note to ensure Yaoyorozu is happy all the time.

“Great! Let me show you around the apartment,” Yaoyorozu offers, extending her hand. “It isn’t very big, but we can move around stuff in the office for you to stay.”

Bakugou clicks his tongue. Ochako takes Yaoyorozu’s hand at the same time she watches him walk into the kitchen to their left, passing a small dinner table as he does so. From where Ochako is standing, Bakugou grows out of sight the further he steps into the kitchen before he comes back halfway into view in front of the refrigerator.

“She doesn’t need a goddamn futon laid out for her, she’s an android,” Bakugou explains as he opens the refrigerator. “She can just be turned off and on again in whatever spot we designate as her charging pad.”

Yaoyorozu’s brows furrow as she worries her bottom lip. Ochako squeezes her hand solely to see her smile again.

“It feels so odd to do that,” she says.

Bakugou pulls out what appears to be a container of carrots and kicks the refrigerator door shut. “What, you gainin’ feelings for a hunk of metal already? Every ‘Uraraka Ochako’ model looks like that, ya know. They’re all the same. I’m sure model UV-whatever here wouldn’t object to being turned off when not in use.”

“I am only meant to be online when required to perform a task,” Ochako agrees before Yaoyorozu can even open her mouth. “But I can attempt performing other tasks if need be. There are softwares you can download for me that will allow me to do more than what I can do already.”

Yaoyorozu perks up at that. “Oh, right! I read about that on the website! How many more softwares can you download?”

“As many as you would like,” Ochako answers honestly. Her storage is exactly one petabyte, which is 1,024 terabytes. That is over a million gigabytes. If either of her owners asked, she could download every software available for her model and still have plenty of space left over.

This news excites Yaoyorozu, whose smile is shining once more and is glancing between Ochako and Bakugou with determination in her eyes.

Bakugou seems to know what she’s thinking. “Just an android, Mo. Show her around the apartment before you get caught up in all the different softwares.”

Ochako catalogues ‘Mo’ as another nickname for Yaoyorozu. She makes a note beside it: ‘endearment,’ because his voice was much softer, eyes less sharp. Ochako decides that Yaoyorozu’s happiness also makes Bakugou less scary-looking, and decides to continue making her happy for both Yaoyorozu and Bakugou’s sakes.

“Right! I nearly forgot. Come on, Uraraka, I’ll show you around,” Yaoyorozu says.

Ochako nods, following after her as she walks out of the living room and into a small hallway. There are only three doors closer to the end of the hallway, a single door to their left and two to their right. Yaoyorozu explains that to the left is the bathroom, across from it her and Bakugou’s bedroom, and beside their bedroom their office. Beside the bathroom is a small indent in the wall with a curtain over it, but when Yaoyorozu pulls it back it turns out to be a cupboard/storage type of space.

“The place is pretty small,” Yaoyorozu points out, rubbing the back of her neck sheepishly. “But it’s only for the two of us, so I like to think it isn’t that bad. Katsuki emphasized small when we were looking all those years ago.”

She laughs. Not knowing what to say, Ochako simply nods. When the two turn to head back the small distance to the living room, Bakugou is leaning against the wall and eating the carrots he took out earlier right out of the container.

“Katsuki! You know how I feel about eating from the containers,” Yaoyorozu reprimands. She closes the distance between them and swipes the container out of Bakugou’s hands, who grunts in annoyance. “It’s just like when you drink milk straight out of the jug.”

Bakugou shrugs. “It saves having to wash dishes, so what’s the big deal?”

“It doesn’t,” Yaoyorozu counters. She walks into the kitchen, Ochako right on her heels for a lack of anything else to do. After all, she isn’t tasked to move or carry anything, and currently she favors Yaoyorozu more. “If I also did that, it’d make sense. But I don’t! So it doesn’t make a lick of difference.”

“Whatever,” Bakugou grumbles.

Ochako steps out of his way as he approaches Yaoyorozu as she puts the lid back on the container and places it back in the refrigerator. All she does is watch with mild curiosity as he wraps his arms around her waist, resting his chin on one of her shoulders and nuzzling into the fabric of her shirt. He tilts his head so his lips make contact with Yaoyorozu’s neck, startling an airy little laugh from her before a hand lifts to run her fingers through his hair.

The intimate aspects of Yaoyorozu and Bakugou’s relationship surface from her download, and she doesn’t have to read it over again in too grave of detail to understand what might transpire the longer she watches. Bakugou’s hands are larger than Yaoyorozu’s despite their similar height, noticeable in how they envelope her hips and she places her own overtop them. Ochako stares and stares and stares with a blank expression until Yaoyorozu is murmuring for Bakugou to wait until later.

“We have an android now,” she whispers, as if Ochako can’t hear her despite only being a few feet away. “It would be—indecent.”

Bakugou scowls. “She’s a fuckin’ android, Ponytail, it won’t matter if she sees me fuck your brains out or not.”

“Katsuki!” Yaoyorozu exclaims. Her face flushes a deep red that matches the red of her knee-length pleated skirt.

“What? You did say you wanted her to get to know us better,” Bakugou teases, turning her words against her. “Back me up, Roundface. Did she say that or not?”

Ochako nods. When she opens her mouth it is Yaoyorozu saying, “You can get to know us better in the meantime,” from earlier. Yaoyorozu’s face darkens further and Bakugou laughs so hard he has to brace himself against the counter in front of them, effectively boxing Yaoyorozu in between him and the counter in the process.

“A voice recorder,” he wheezes. He grips tightly to Yaoyorozu when she attempts pushing him away. “Roundface, make sure to keep that shit going ‘round the clock. I’m about to win so many arguments now!”

“What arguments!” Yaoyorozu exclaims, turning around in Bakugou’s hold to properly glare at him. “And don’t, I don’t want—”

“All recordings are deleted within seventy-two hours unless the setting is changed,” Ochako informs.

Bakugou snorts. “Change it to never unless I tell you to.” Ochako nods; the setting is changed. “Perfect. Now when Ponytail is away I’ll have good material—”

“Katsuki! That’s so gross!” Yaoyorozu wails.

Her face is so incredibly red, Ochako wonders if a blood vessel may pop from the pressure building there. Bakugou merely laughs, hands leaving her hips to pinch at her cheeks and ruffle her neat hair. Yaoyorozu gasps and slaps his hands away, but that doesn’t stop him but shifting his hands elsewhere, finding her sides and tickling her until the otherwise silent apartment is drowned in her laughter and cries for him to stop.

“Ura—Uraraka! Help me!” Yaoyorozu cries between peels of laughter.

Ochako nods and steps closer. Her vitals don’t indicate any levels of being hurt, but an order is an order, and soon Bakugou is being picked up and deposited out of the kitchen and a ways away from Yaoyorozu. Yaoyorozu slumps against the counter in relief as the assault comes to an end.

“Fuckin’ hell, you are strong!” Bakugou exclaims. He sounds more surprised and impressed than angry.

Ochako nods. “That is what my model is designed for, yes.”

“Katsuki, we both did research on what model before buying her,” Yaoyorozu says, breathing still labored but voice no longer strained and choppy. “You should know she’s strong.”

“Doesn’t look it,” Bakugou comments.

Ochako only stares at him. Her eyes flicker to Yaoyorozu when a hand lands on her head, fingers stroking methodically through her hair.

“Don’t listen to him, Uraraka.” Ochako nods. “Now, let’s look at those software options.”

Bakugou rolls his eyes. “Count me out, I have work early tomorrow. Don’t stay up too late, Ponytail.”

“I won’t,” Yaoyorozu promises.

With that, Bakugou disappears down the hallway and into their bedroom. Ochako stays put with Yaoyorozu mostly because of the hand in her hair but also because yes, she still favors her over Bakugou, and would also not know what to do with an unconscious human and no tasks to perform. Staying with the conscious one makes much more sense, especially when she is needed for software installations.

The two sit on the couch in the living room and begin. Yaoyorozu has her laptop resting over her thighs and Ochako’s model manual in one hand as she asks Ochako question after question about just about anything she could possibly think to ask. Ochako answers everything and even provides more than Yaoyorozu may find useful. It helps when, after every installation, she develops more and more “human” traits and can properly interact with her after a few hours.

It’s 1:39 AM when Bakugou comes back to check on them. His movements are sluggish and clunky, as if he’s still half-asleep, and atop his nose sits a pair of glasses he hadn’t been wearing before. Ochako remembers his genetically bad vision bestowed upon him by his father and notes that he looks a lot more handsome with them on.

“The hell? You still aren’t done?” Bakugou asks.

His voice is rough and deep with sleep. Yaoyorozu sends him a guilty look before turning off and closing her laptop. She sets it on the coffee table along with Ochako’s model manual.

“Sorry, sorry! We lost track of time,” she apologizes.

Ochako hurries to stand up and apologize too, bowing at the waist to show her sincerity. She hears Bakugou snort before she stands back up.

“Did you download some personality traits into her or something?” he inquires.

Yaoyorozu perks up. She picks up the pocket-sized notebook she’d rushed to get hours ago to keep note of every installation and begins rattling off everything Ochako has downloaded. From “alarm clock” to “fruit peeling” to “empathy,” Yaoyorozu goes on for maybe ten whole minutes before she finally reaches the end of the list. In truth, the two hadn’t even reached M in the A to Z list of available software to download, but they’d made great headway regardless.

“You’ve made a lot of progress,” Bakugou notes, at a loss for words.

Yaoyorozu nods with a positively ecstatic grin. “Yes! And we’re not even close to finishing! I was thinking this weekend we could go over the rest of the software options together, just in case you want something I would otherwise overlook.”

“As long as dick sucking is downloaded, I could care less,” Bakugou replies with a yawn.

“Katsuki! That’s indecent,” Yaoyorozu accuses.

“But did you download it?”

She sputters, face reddening again. “Of course I didn’t download it! Ochako may have the ability to process digestible substances like us, but that doesn’t mean she should.”

“Damn, a shame,” Bakugou laments before his lips curl upwards. “And who said anything about making her swallow?”

Yaoyorozu glares at him as her face flushes once more, but Ochako can tell there isn’t any real heat behind it. If anything, she looks more and more tired the longer they bicker, the hours they’ve spent up finally catching up to her. Bakugou must be able to tell as well, because when Ochako opens her mouth to offer Yaoyorozu assistance to bed, he comes over and scoops her up off the couch.

“Katsuki!” Yaoyorozu, despite her exhausted state, still has quick reflexes with how fast she grabs ahold of Bakugou for stability.

“Bed time,” is all he says before he turns and heads back towards the hallway. He pauses. “Roundface.”

Ochako perks up. “Yes!”

Bakugou turns to properly look at her. She stands up straighter under his scrutinizing gaze, but all he does is sigh with a shake of his head. Yaoyorozu waves for her to come closer.

“Come on.” He mimics Yaoyorozu’s movement with a gesture of his head for her to follow. “Turn off the lights and follow me.”

Ochako hurries to do as he says. Once all the lights are off aside from the one pouring into the hallway from his and Yaoyorozu’s bedroom, she trails behind them and enters. She stays by the door as Bakugou lays Yaoyorozu down on the bed and walks over to the closet to pull out a large shirt and a pair of pajama bottoms.

“Don’t just fuckin’ stand there,” Bakugou barks. “I didn’t pull out this damn futon for nothing.”

It’s then Ochako notices the futon laid out beside the bed on the floor. It doesn’t appear to be the most comfortable, but it does look meticulously arranged, and so she comes over and lays down on top of it. Bakugou scowls and stalks over, dropping Yaoyorozu’s pajamas onto her with an order to change before he drops to his knees and yanks the blankets Ochako is laying on over her. Instantly warmth envelops her.

“Now sleep,” he orders.

Ochako blinks. “I don’t have that software installed.”

“The fuck? Then install it,” Bakugou snaps.

Yaoyorozu sits up after changing and stands in order to place her clothes in the dirty laundry hamper. “There’s an installation code that comes with each one. That’s why I had my laptop open.”

“Yes,” Ochako confirms.

“Lemme guess, you have ‘dream’ installed.” She nods and Bakugou groans, rubbing his hands over his face after pushing his glasses up onto the top of his head. “Fuckin’—Ponytail, in what world does that make sense?”

Yaoyorozu yawns as she walks back over, flopping down face first onto the bed. “It was easier to go in alphabetical order than jump around just to find synonymous software.”

“Yes,” Ochako repeats.

Bakugou glares at her. “Yes this, yes that—you better not make a damn sound tonight or I’ll murder you,” he threatens.

Ochako only stares. That simply isn’t possible; androids can’t be murdered. They could be deactivated or destroyed, but that wasn’t the same as being murdered. Living creatures with real flesh and blood could be murdered, but since androids didn’t have either, it’s just impossible.

Bakugou rolls his eyes. “Just be quiet, for fuck’s sake.”

“She has an alarm clock feature now,” Yaoyorozu reminds him. “She could wake you up at six when you need to start getting ready.”

“Yeah yeah. I’ll stick with my phone for the time being.”

Ochako sets an alarm for 6 AM but leaves it off, just in case he changes his mind in the future. Bakugou fusses with the blankets thrown over her body one last time before standing, shifting his glasses back onto the bridge of his nose. He walks over to the other side of the bed and crawls under the covers.

Yaoyorozu reaches over and removes his glasses from his face before he can. Bakugou huffs as she reaches across him to both set them down on the nightstand and turn off the lamp. They’re all bathed in darkness, Ochako’s preinstalled night mode turning on as she stares up at the ceiling.

“G’night, Mo,” Bakugou suddenly whispers.

Yaoyorozu hums, voice already slurring with sleep. “Goodnight, ‘Tsuki.”

Ochako catalogues “‘Tsuki” as a nickname for Bakugou.

Two weeks go by rather quickly. Ochako spends most of it not doing much of anything, simply idling about the apartment most days while waiting for Yaoyorozu and Bakugou to return from their respective jobs. It’s rather boring being alone for the better part of the day and then unable to even interact with them for more than a few hours because they need to sleep, but it’s better than she had expected.

Yaoyorozu—or really Momo, as she’s recently begun calling her—works as a pharmaceutical biologist, and Bakugou—who is still…well, Bakugou, per his orders to not call him Kacchan after Momo accidentally told her of the old nickname—is a paramedic. Momo’s hours are far more normal than Bakugou’s. She usually works from eight to five or six, depending on if she’s planning to work a little later or not, but Bakugou’s hours are hectic. A standard requirement of the job is twenty-four hour shifts, weekends included, and so Ochako sees very little of him.

The lack of interactions gives Ochako very little to do since it still isn’t time to move, but it’s not like this is a bad thing. Momo likes her very much and often leaves the TV in the living room on for her, and has even taught her how to play games by switching the source to any of the game consoles they have.

“With Katsuki working the hours he does, he doesn’t play any of these games very often anymore,” she’d often lament while booting up either the Wii or PS4 or something else for Ochako. “I’ve always felt bad for wanting to get rid of all of it, but it just sits here collecting dust! But you’re more than welcome to play any of these games, I’m sure he won’t mind.”

He doesn’t. Most of the time when he comes home it’s been eighteen to twenty-four hours since Ochako last saw him, and all he wants to do is throw himself into bed and sleep. Ochako is, more often than not, playing video games on the couch when she hears him unlocking the door. The first time, she’d scrambled to her feet and welcomed Bakugou, but all he did was give her a look reminiscent of one belonging to a corpse before he kicked off his shoes and dragged himself to his and Momo’s bedroom. Ochako hasn’t bothered moving from the couch to greet him since.

But that isn’t all she does. When packing everything into boxes came around a week after she was turned on, Ochako spent a lot of time organizing everything into categorized boxes while Momo and Bakugou were working. When it became time to pack up the video games, Ochako suddenly had lots more time and plenty of boredom needing to be cured once more, and so she put her “cooking” software to good use. Momo wants to get rid of most of the food they have at the apartment anyway so there’s less stuff to take to the new house.

So now Ochako spends most of her time cooking. She looks up odd recipes that use the ingredients they have and spends anywhere from half an hour to five hours preparing meals for her owners. Momo is always so happy when she returns home and smells the welcoming aroma of whatever Ochako has prepared; it’s become routine for Ochako to offer her what she’s made as soon as Momo closes the door behind her.

Today is no different.

“Oh, aren’t you sweet!” Momo exclaims as she slides off her shoes and hangs up her coat. The bag she’s holding is set against the wall before she walks over. “What is it this time?”

“Buri daikon,” Ochako replies.

Momo smiles. It’s the smile she gives Bakugou when the two are alone or to Ochako when she thinks she’s sleeping (now that she has the software for it), and it never fails to make her feel odd. It feels like her insides are melting, artificial skin burning with a raw passion and it never fails to make Ochako wonder if there’s a virus swimming around in her coding. But every time she scans herself, she comes up empty-handed. Maybe it’s a defect.

“It’s always nice to come home to a delicious meal,” Momo explains with a wistful sigh. She takes a seat at the dining table and thanks Ochako as she sets a bowl of buri daikon down. “With Katsuki constantly working, I would always have to make and eat dinner by myself…”

She still has that happy smile on her face, but when she talks like this Ochako can’t help but notice how it becomes tinged with something more melancholy. It makes her uneasy. She has made a vow to continuously make Momo happy, and even though Momo looks happy, she most certainly isn’t feeling happy.

Ochako takes a seat across from her and hands her a pair of chopsticks. “Does he make you unhappy?”

“Katsuki?” Ochako nods. “Oh, no!” Momo shakes her head vehemently with a tiny little laugh. “No, he makes me very happy. Ever since we met in college, I’ve been happy with him! I just wish we could spend a little more time together, that’s all.”

Ochako nods. She has always wondered how the two get along so well when Momo is the human reincarnation of a Greek goddess—intelligent, beautiful, fair and soft-spoken—and Bakugou is, well, Bakugou (handsome and intelligent, sure, but also rude with a foul temper and colorful vocabulary). But she supposes she does not have to wonder if the two are truly happy with one another. Bakugou may never tell Ochako personally that he feels the same as Momo, but she can see it in his eyes, in the way he moves and speaks with Momo.

Plus, she is merely an android. She is not meant to question the actions her owners make and the roles they play in society.

After a few minutes of silence in which Momo begins eating, she pauses. “Are you worried that I’m not?”

“Sometimes you’re sad when you talk about him,” Ochako explains before stopping. “It’s not my place to question these things—”

“But you’re worried about me,” Momo concludes.

Ochako nods.

Momo’s face softens. “Oh, Ochako.” Because just like how Ochako calls her Momo, Momo calls her Ochako now. Sometimes Bakugou does too. “You’re a lot more human than you think you are.”

Ochako doesn’t know how to respond to that. Luckily she doesn’t have to; the sound of keys falling to the floor and exasperated swearing on the other side of the door let them both know Bakugou is home surprisingly early. She’s out of her seat and opening the door for Bakugou before he can attempt to unlock the door again.

“Katsuki! You’re home early—” Momo stops short when she turns in her seat and sees Bakugou’s appearance. “What happened to you?”

Ochako’s scans lets her know that Bakugou is covered in a mixture of urine, vomit and blood, the sight like a crime scene and the scent even more putrid. He’s carrying the usual bag he brings with him to work, but as soon as he steps inside he drops it down beside Momo’s.

“Shit day at work,” Bakugou explains, voice strained and a bit too loud. “‘M gonna go shower.”

Momo is out of her seat to stop him before he can get very far. Ochako closes the door and relocks it as Momo speaks.

“Did something bad happen?” she asks.

Her voice is even more soft and gentle than usual. Ochako feels like she shouldn’t be watching them in this moment, but just like that first instance in the kitchen and a few nights spent awake before installing the ‘sleep’ software, Ochako is alert and staring. After all, even though none of the bodily fluids covering Bakugou are from him, she still can’t help but worry. Maybe Momo is right.

Bakugou just sighs. “Same old shit. Nothing changes. Now let me—can I go shower now?”

Ochako can’t see Bakugou’s face right now with how his back is to her, but she can see Momo’s. That same sad look is back. Despite Ochako being an android she feels nauseous, queasy at the sight as Momo’s brows knit together and her eyes soften. Hands come up to cup Bakugou’s cheeks.

“Can I join you?” she asks. Before Bakugou can reject her she adds, “I just got home and haven’t showered either.”

So Bakugou relents, voice unbearably quiet, “Fine.”

Momo smiles. She asks Ochako to warm up the buri daikon when the two get back so they can have a proper dinner all together, and as soon as Ochako nods she’s grasping Bakugou’s hand and leading him to the bathroom. It’s only when the bathroom door clicks shut that she truly believes that the two are made for each other.

The first time Momo kisses Ochako is after she finishes bringing in the final box into their new home. It happens exactly three and a half weeks after being turned on, negotiations with the house dragging on with a new bidder suddenly entering the scene, but ultimately still going to Momo and Bakugou (and maybe he’s now known as Katsuki, though he grumbles whenever she calls him that).

Katsuki is on the phone with his mother in the other room, going back and forth about everything under the sun (apparently he doesn’t call her as often as his mother says he should, Ochako had overheard when he answered the phone). Ochako sets down the large box of silverware and other items for the kitchen on the kitchen counter when Momo asks for her to turn around.

Her lips are soft. That is the first thing Ochako registers after Momo bends down and presses her lips against hers—they’re soft, warm and unbearably human against her own. She isn’t given enough time to properly respond before Momo pulls away and smiles that sweet little smile reserved for only her and Katsuki. It makes Ochako nervous and a little scared, even, but mostly she feels elated, wants to ask for more because it felt nice. It felt good. Soft and warm, just for her, and she opens her mouth—

“Cheeks!” Her head whips around when Katsuki calls out to her; ‘Cheeks’ is another nickname she has been given just a few days ago after she pouted and puffed up her cheeks in front of him one morning before he left for work. “Come over here, wouldja? I wanna move this couch.” Then, quieter, “No, Mom, you can drop by to meet the android whenever Dad’s free too, for fuck’s sake. I ain’t runnin’ a goddamn petting zoo here.”

Ochako rolls her eyes and Momo giggles. “I wish he wouldn’t call me that.”

“Call him a pomeranian,” Momo replies, lowering her voice with another chuckle. “But don’t tell him you heard that from me.”

Ochako nods, grinning as she walks away. She still wants to ask Momo to kiss her again, but she also has no idea why Momo kissed her to begin with. Her and Katsuki are—well, they aren’t married, but they are still in a relationship, and doesn’t this count as cheating? Ochako may not be human, but she still appears as one. She does not want to be a source of conflict between Momo and Katsuki, and so she decides to say nothing.

(For now. Bringing it up may only cause grief, she decides, and vows to mention it later.)

Sometimes Katsuki has days where he doesn’t work and is instead able to spend it at home with Ochako. These days are few and far in between, but when they occur, Ochako actually finds herself enjoying them since it means she won’t have to loiter around the space without any company.

Ever since the two turned her on months ago she has exhibited a clear bias for Momo, but that doesn’t mean she dislikes Katsuki. It’s quite the opposite; she enjoys his company, even if he is more loud and foul-mouthed than Momo is. He’s unbelievably strong for a human, which goes to say a lot knowing she is the strongest type of android currently on the market. Occasionally the two will spar out in the backyard, now that they have one. It usually ends up with Katsuki on the ground and Ochako needlessly keeping him pinned there, but periodically he truly does come out on top.

It’s always a sight when he does. Sprawled out on the grass below Katsuki, Ochako always looks up to see him haloed by the sun in the soft blue sky among the fluffy white clouds. He’s always a panting, sweating mess from exertion—and because sometimes he truly does not know where his limits are—but Ochako cannot deny how attractive he is. Truly, among the few people Ochako has met since being purchased by Momo and Katsuki, very few even come close to matching their insane amount of beauty.

Ochako always becomes slightly flustered pinned below Katsuki. Perhaps it’s the intimacy of it, or maybe it’s because they’re in a position more appropriate for him and Momo, but it never fails to bring back that boiling sensation from when Momo kissed her. It is that same feeling but a little more muted, a touch more dull, but nonetheless still enough to make Ochako nervous.

It doesn’t help that Katsuki always gets so excited when he wins. Sparring with her is another form of training for him, and every time he wins, it’s like a new victory in his workout routine. As a paramedic, he tells her, he has to stay in shape, and so she has become a routine part of his exercise after only a few weeks of moving in. The way his face lights up when Ochako goes down is similar to when Momo comes home early and informs her she was allowed to clock out before five for working so diligently and can “now spend more time with you and Katsuki! Whenever he gets home, of course.”

With all of his teeth on full display and eyes aflame with delight, Katsuki is blinding even with the sun blocked by his head. Ochako has to ask him to let her go to snap him out of his reverie. When he does he pretends the moment never happened, but Ochako knows and saves each moment. Much like her voice recorder, any time her eyes are open she is saving whatever she sees, and more often than not she uses this for her own sake. She enjoys the few moments alone she has with Katsuki, wants to savor them for when he isn’t there.

He’s also knowledgeable about many things, and although Ochako is one search away from learning whatever she wants, she still likes asking him about something just to hear him explain it. He always gets this far away look on his face as he pieces together exactly what he wants to say before speaking. Sometimes his eye twitches when he finds himself struggling with just how he wants to put what he’s thinking, but without fail, his explanations are always cohesive and to the point. Ochako enjoys the wait—enjoys watching him think—more than the actual explanation.

“Katsuki,” she speaks.

The two have been sitting in the living room playing Overcooked, a PS4 game Ochako has recently gotten hooked on that Katsuki doesn’t mind playing with her. They have half a minute left on the timer when she addresses him.

He huffs, frustratedly bringing over some meat to cook on one of the skillets. “What?”

“How do bacterial diseases develop?” she asks.

It’s definitely a question Momo would have no problem answering—and Ochako could simply use common sense to figure out, it isn’t a difficult question—but she likes hearing explanations from Katsuki’s mouth more. He grumbles about her distracting him, but a glance in his direction shows he’s actually thinking about it. Even while struggling to make as many burgers as possible in ten seconds, he still ponders over just how he wants to say it before explaining.

Once the time is up and he’s finished telling her, he says, “That’s something Ponytail would be better off answering. Why’re you asking me?”

Ochako simply smiles behind her propped up knee. “I was merely curious.”

The kissing continues. Ochako, against her better judgment, goes against her naturally high intelligence as an android and indulges it. After all, she is not meant to question the actions her owners make and the roles they play in society. If Momo wants to kiss her whenever the two are alone, then that is what will happen. After all, the way her face lights up and how wide her smile gets whenever Ochako reciprocates shows how happy it makes her. And Ochako had made a personal note to ensure Yaoyorozu is happy all the time—she is going to continue to do so to the best of her ability.

What comes as more of a surprise than Momo kissing her is when Katsuki begins kissing her as well. The first time Ochako is kissed by him, all three of them are in the kitchen preparing dinner on one of the few nights Katsuki isn’t working. Momo and Ochako are working on preparing deep-fried tempura while Katsuki is making homemade soba noodles to accompany it.

“Cheeks, come ‘ere,” Katsuki suddenly says.

Ochako moves from the stove to where Katsuki is working at the counter. “Yes?”

“Grab the other rolling pin from the cabinet and help me roll out this dough,” he tells her.

“Do I have to?” she asks, because over time she’s grown much, much more comfortable around the two and feels she won’t be shut down if she gets a little mouthy.

It’s not even a true concern anyway. The only times Ochako has ever been ‘shut down’ have been when she’s in sleep mode to charge, and even then she is not truly turned off. She is in what humans would call a comatose state until charging is complete and she awakens. That doesn’t stop Katsuki from threatening her with it every time she gets snippy with him though.

“Watch it,” he snaps, pointing a flour-coated finger in her direction.

The action is completely unthreatening. Ochako laughs.

Katsuki’s face reddens, but before he can yell at her to cover his embarrassment Momo pitches in, “Ochako, would you please help Katsuki with the noodles?”

And just to add insult to injury, Ochako replies immediately, “Of course!”

“Why, you little…” Katsuki glares at her when she sends him a quirky little wink and skips off to grab the other rolling pin. Whatever he says after that is easily ignored as she rummages through the cabinet.

When she comes back, despite his annoyance he explains what he wants her to do. The job is fairly simple, but instead of teasing him for needing to ask for help to do it, Ochako immediately sets to work with what she’s been tasked with. She hasn’t been asked to do anything from them for at least a week now, and despite being an android, she does feel antsy having nothing to do.

The rest of the process goes by swimmingly. Momo asks how everything is doing as she finishes up with the tempura.

“Just fine,” Katsuki replies. “We’re almost done. Ochako—” Ochako perks up at finally being addressed by her name. “Go help her set the table while I finish up.”

“Yes,” she replies.

She’s about to leave when Katsuki grasps her wrist. Confused, she turns to ask if he’s changed his mind and still needs her help, when suddenly his lips are on hers.

The moment is as brief and fleeting as the first kiss Momo gave her, but it is just as electrifying. Katsuki’s lips are rougher, bitten up from stress and a general lack of care, but they’re warm and firm and unbearably human, just like Momo’s. Ochako wants to reciprocate and yet is unable to do so when Katsuki lets go of her wrists and shooes her off to the dining room, where they can both hear Momo humming a random tune.

She opens her mouth. Katsuki simply stares down over his glasses at her before turning back to the noodles he is almost done preparing. Not wanting to disobey direct orders, Ochako takes her leave and ponders over what this means while exchanging idle chatter with Momo.

Ever since moving into their new home, Ochako has had her own room. It’s directly across from Momo and Katsuki’s, separated only by two doors and the little hallway between them, still close in case either of her owners need her. It is a whole new sense of freedom that Ochako isn’t exactly sure what to do with.

Why should she have her own room? She has always been just fine resting on the futon on Momo’s side of the bed back at their old apartment. Sure, she had to roll out of Momo’s way whenever she got up to go to the bathroom, but it was ideal. She was always able to make sure either of them were okay, and if they weren’t, she was there in the blink of an eye.

Sleeping in her own bed every night has been odd. Even now, nearly seven months into being in this house, Ochako still has what feels like lead sitting heavily in her stomach. She was only in the old apartment for three and a half weeks, not even a full month in comparison, but the impression lasted and now Ochako still very much prefers it over this.

That’s why, when Momo begins occasionally inviting her to sleep with them at night, Ochako jumps at the opportunity for that level of intimacy again.

The first night is awkward. When Ochako steps into the room and there isn’t a futon on Momo’s side of the bed waiting for her, she turns to Katsuki in confusion. Momo is in the bathroom finishing up her shower.

“Where am I going to sleep?” she asks.

Katsuki doesn’t even look up from the book he’s reading, something no doubt old and boring that Ochako is sure only old people and others like Katsuki enjoy. “On the bed.”

“Not the futon?” They had kept the old futon in case of guests, though it was unneeded when not many people stayed overnight and, when they did, they crashed in Ochako’s room anyway.

Katsuki shook his head. “The bed’s big enough for all of us.”

It is. It’s a king-sized bed, a size Katsuki originally didn’t want but was talked into because Momo thought it’d be nice to have the extra space. Ochako wonders if she was thinking of her at the time.

“If you say so,” she replies.

She steps closer, approaching Momo’s side of the bed. Is it really okay to climb into bed with them? It would be rather inconvenient to have her in between them in case they wanted to be intimate with one another, but being on one end or the other would trap them from going to the bathroom… 

Katsuki finally looks up from his book, as if sensing her hesitation. “Just get in already, for fuck’s sake. It ain’t the end of the world.”

Ochako wants to be snarky and say something witty back to him but decides not to when she hears the shower turn off. She doesn’t want to get in Momo’s way once she’s finished and comes out to sleep, so she settles in between Katsuki and where she thinks Momo will lay.

“There. Was that so hard?” Katsuki sneers.

Ochako just rolls her eyes. When Momo finally comes out of the bathroom and sees her and Katsuki laying next to each other, engrossed in his book, she smiles.

Now sleeping with them in their bed is easy. Ochako isn’t quite sure if it’s because the two are so intimate with not only each other but her now or what, but she likes the ease in which she can climb into bed with them and turn on sleep mode soon after.

Tonight, however, is one of the nights where they all retire early and lay awake to talk. These nights are rare, what with Katsuki’s long shifts that often keep him from sleeping regular hours, but because of that they’re always the most enjoyable. Between her two owners that she always feels so warm and alive with, Ochako has never felt more human. She knows she isn’t, is just a single android among thousands that look just like her, but here she can feel like an individual.

“Katsuki, have you finally started with Ochako as well? You never told me when you’d begin,” Momo suddenly says after a few minutes of silence.

Ochako had begun slowly easing herself into sleep mode, trying her best to mimic human sleep patterns, when Momo speaks. Immediately she is wide awake and alert even though the question isn’t addressed to her.

Katsuki scoffs. “Have been for months.”

Momo’s eyes widen, mouth parted in surprise. “Really?”

“Haven’t you noticed?” he asks.

“No! You must be quick about it,” she says, and although she’s surprised her voice is full of elation and her eyes are sparkling with mirth.

Katsuki opens his mouth to reply, but Ochako butts in to ask, “Start what with me?”

“Oh!” Momo’s gaze shifts down to her. Suddenly her hands are in her hair, and Ochako sighs contentedly as they gently scratch at her scalp. “The kissing, that’s what we’re talking about.”

“I see,” Ochako replies airily, eyes closing. It takes her a moment to fully register the exact meaning behind Momo’s words, but when it does she’s bolting upright. “Wait, you two planned that?”

Katsuki laughs. “What, you thought we were just sneaking kisses to our android behind each other’s backs? How much faith do you have in our relationship?”

Ochako thinks back to all the moments that have done nothing but reinforce her positivity in the bonds of their relationship and frowns at him. She knew some thing had to be amiss, but the two have been nothing but amicable and loving towards each other ever since she first was introduced to them, and so the kissing had merely become a part of her routine. It had slipped her mind, or perhaps merely became an afterthought, to interrogate either of them on their reasons to be kissing her and not each other .

“But why?” she inquires. Now is a better time to ask than ever, she supposes.

Momo eases her back down against the sheets, fingers playing with her hair once more. “We both came to an agreement that we adore you, Ochako, much more than is probably suitable for the owners of an android.”

“Why not just tell me?” Ochako asks. It would’ve been better, though she can’t deny the surprise kisses at different times each day were very nice. It had slowly become the best parts of her day, especially since they’re never home that often.

Katsuki shrugs. “It was more fun this way. You haven’t said jack shit either, ya know.”

“Did you not enjoy it?” Momo worriedly asks. “I’m sorry if we made you uncomfortable—”

“Oh shut up, she enjoyed it,” Katsuki says. “Isn’t that right, Cheeks?”

As if him calling that triggered the response, Ochako’s cheeks heat up in an artificial blush. It only causes him to snicker and tell Momo he was right, but despite the smile on Momo’s face she still looks worried.

“I…liked it,” she admits. “…Very much so.”

The worry slips away like the sun being revealed from behind the parting clouds. Momo smiles, says, “I’m glad then,” and leans down to press a kiss to her temple.

Ochako presses into her touch, humming in content. Katsuki delivers a similar kiss, lips brushing against her forehead as a hand comes to caress her cheek. She smiles when the two soon abandon their seated positions in order to lay down on either side of her, arms coming to hold her close. Ochako basks in the warmth, leans into their touches, feeling truly warm, truly human.

“You’re always welcome to join us in bed even if we don’t ask you to,” Momo murmurs.

Katsuki huffs into Ochako’s neck. “Yeah, it’s annoying having to always give you permission.”

Ochako just laughs. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

It takes a dozen or so years for Ochako to fall into the routine of walking the short mile it takes to get to the elementary school. She isn’t exactly sure if, when Momo and Katsuki were looking at houses all those years ago, they were looking for somewhere close by on purpose or not, but either way it’s become a nice way to spend her afternoon. Without it, her days are a little bit longer and little more lonely.

“Mommy! Mommy!”

But they aren’t now. As soon as Ochako catches sight of long black hair haphazardly braided—most likely done by one of the other kids during recess—and bright red eyes, she drops down to one knee and opens her arms out wide. Mao runs and leaps into her arms, giggling as Ochako wraps them firmly around her and squeezes her tight.

“Hey, squirt,” she says.

She isn’t able to say much else before Mao is squirming in her arms to be let go. Ochako simply lets her wrestle her way out before watching as she rummages around in her bag. Curious, she leans in closer to try and get a peak, but hurriedly Mao pulls her backpack away and out of her line of vision. She doesn’t get the time to ask her what she’s searching for before Mao is dragging a wounded butterfly out of her backpack.

“Look! Look! I caught it at recess today,” she exclaims.

Ochako only has to take one look at the butterfly to know that it’s dead. Even then she runs a quick scan just to be sure and oh, yep, the butterfly is definitely, without a doubt, dead. When Mao proudly thrusts it out to her she takes it gently. Its beautiful wings flutter in the wind, the force of it nearly sending the butterfly to the ground, but Ochako cups it in both hands to keep it there.

“So? Do you like it? Do you like it?” Mao asks, buzzing with energy as she jumps from one foot to the other. “I tried to catch another, but then the teacher blew the whistle and it was time to go inside—”

Ochako hums. “You should know better than to keep other living creatures in captivity against their will, Mao. Did you even ask the butterfly whether or not it wanted to be yours?”

“What?” Mao blurts. Ochako only raises a brow at her, and off she goes to thinking. “Well… no, but—”

“I think you owe it an apology,” Ochako says.

Her daughter blinks. “What? Why! What good is apologizing gonna do if I already caught it?”

“Empathy,” Ochako explains, because if there is one emotion she’s learned to harbor and keep close to her chest ever since she was turned on, it’s that one. “Knowing that you were in the wrong and understanding both parties’ opinions and feelings is important! You know that. D—”

“Yeah yeah, Daddy taught me,” Mao finishes with an exaggerated eye roll.

Ochako nods. “Daddy taught you. Now, I’m willing to let this slide and not tell Daddy…”

Mao, who had begun to look more and more guilty as soon as Katsuki was brought up, immediately lights up like a Christmas tree. “Really?”

“If,” Ochako continues, and Mao groans up at the sky. Never has Ochako seen such a dramatic child. “If you help me make dinner tonight.”

Truly, it isn’t a proper punishment since Mao loves cooking with Ochako more than anything, but Ochako doesn’t want to be too stern. It had only taken two sightings of two different kids getting both verbally and physically reprimanded by an especially pissed off parent for her to refuse to behave in such a way with Mao. Plus, it meant a little less work to do when she got home.

“Okay!” Mao exclaims, more than pleased with her so-called “punishment”. She takes the butterfly back from Ochako and whispers conspiratorially into her hands, “I’m sorry, Mr. Butterfly, I won’t steal you again!”

When she looks up at Ochako for approval, Ochako nods with a smile. “Great! Now let’s go set it free.”

She stands up then, extending a hand down for Mao to take. Then they walk over to the playground and closer to the trees at the edge, where Ochako takes the butterfly and gently settles it down on a branch. She would bury it, but she hasn’t told Mao the butterfly is actually dead, and so this will have to do.

“Now, what should we have for dinner?” Ochako asks as they make their way out of the playground and back on the sidewalk.

Mao swings their arms as they begin their trek home. “Chicken! Lots of chicken!”

“That’s not a full meal, Mao,” Ochako reminds.

Mao giggles. “Yes it is!”

“Is it? I must’ve been mistaken then,” Ochako decides to play along with a smile.

“Yep! When we get home and make it, you’ll see!” Mao exclaims. She begins pulling on Ochako’s arm, tugging her forward as she begins walking faster. “Hurry up, hurry up!”

Ochako shakes her head with an airy laugh, scooping Mao up off the ground. Mao shrieks and giggles as she’s placed atop her shoulders, and off they go, running down the sidewalk. More than once Ochako has to remind her to keep both her hands around her neck so she doesn’t fall backwards.

When they get back to the house, unsurprisingly, neither Momo and Katsuki are home. That isn’t bothersome at all though, not when Ochako has Mao to keep her company and help her cook after helping her with her homework. It most certainly isn’t bad at all when Momo and Katsuki come home to see chicken teriyaki with steamed vegetables waiting for them.

It’s as they’re all sitting down to eat, Mao purposefully picking a fight with Katsuki over eating her vegetables and Momo having to mend it before it gets out of hand, that Ochako decides that this life of hers is perfect. Even though she is merely an android, sitting here with her family makes her feel truly human.