Chapter Text
The city of Tokyo was always busy; always in motion. There was always noise, whether from the cars or from the people walking or riding their bikes, or from the wind whistling through tightly spaced buildings or rain pattering against the window pane or onto the pavement below. For a city dweller, it was something they’re used to. For a certain country-side-raised girl, however, it was a noise she was still getting acclimated to, despite living in Tokyo for years.
She’d been advised several times by numerous friends and professionals to renovate her 40 square metered loft apartment with sound proof walls so that she could at least sleep peacefully at night, but she didn’t see the point of spending that kind of unnecessary money. There was always the possibility she’d move into a larger apartment and doing that kind of work only to leave would be a waste… Or at least that was what she had been telling herself repeatedly since she stepped foot inside this studio apartment nearly four years ago.
Ochako sighed into her cup of morning coffee as she peered through the large floor to ceiling, wall to wall window to the traffic below. It was the only window in the apartment, but she was thankful for it, even if it did make her feel exposed at times. Truthfully, other than the severe discount offered to rent this little space, it was one of the reasons why she loved her little loft - she got to save money on the electric bill (even if it did make the room warm at certain times of the day). Plus, it gave plenty of natural sunlight to her little garden of plants she’d been accumulating over the years (even if it was reflected off of another building).
The brunette looked over to her little garden and smiled at the herbs, ferns, vines, flowers, and succulents that took up a corner of her apartment on small tables, racks, and hanging from the ceiling. Her eyes shifted to the rest of her quaint apartment. She followed the plants to a chest that stored her extra futon and blankets for when guests stayed over. Next to it was the TV box that was likely the same age as her and a DVD player that rested on top of the TV, both sitting upon a stack of textbooks from college. A couple meters away, a small kitchenette with a mini fridge, sink, and convection microwave oven sat upon a wrapping plastic-y countertop with a matching movable island, taking up about a fourth of the space. It shared the same wall as the foyer, which was directly next to the door to her bathroom. The foyer stepped down and dipped into a short hallway leading to the front door.
Jutting out above the kitchen was a loft where her unmade bed laid. A slender rope attached to a folded ladder that extended downward to allow her to climb into bed every night. There wasn’t anything next to the loft other than the wall. On the adjacent wall furthest from her indoor garden was her wooden dresser and an old beat up beige cloth couch that took up the majority of the wall. An even older kotatsu stood across from it with pillows and blankets strewn around the ground. Her apartment was small and a bit tight, but it was home to her.
A long and wide yawn broke her thought. Ochako smacked her lips together before taking a long sip from her mug. Right, back to business, she thought to herself with a tired sigh . She mentally went through the list of things she needed to do for the day in no particular order:
Pick up her paycheck and deposit it at the bank.
Wire half of her wages to her parents.
Stop by the store and pick up groceries.
Pick up plant nutrients from the flower shop.
And, finally, the one she dreaded the most: Go to work and deal with working a scene with him.
She enjoyed her job and where she worked, just not working with… him. Biting back an irritated groan at the thought of the man, she downed the rest of her coffee, put her mug on the small eat-in table against the window, and moved her chair back to walk to her dresser and pull out the clothes she wanted to wear for the day.
After she got dressed, she watered the plants that needed to be watered, washed her dishes from the morning by hand, double checked herself in the full body mirror that hung between the sofa and the hallway, and gathered the things she would need for the day. Triple-checking everything, she grabbed her house keys, toed on her shoes at the entryway, and, after locking up, left her apartment. It took minutes for her to get outside the building and start heading for the train station.
Most people wouldn’t recognize her under her baseball cap, large sunglasses, and facemask, but Ochako had learned a long time ago to keep to herself and not to attract attention just in case. She wasn’t famous or anything to that degree to be spotted quickly, but every once in a while she had a fan who recognized her and the moment that happened, well… She had a hard time telling her fans no, and it wouldn’t be the first time that she was late to something because she made sure to sign and take pictures with every person who wanted one. She had the TV series she was currently in to thank for that.
Yuuei was an episodic show where a new story with a different genre was told every episode. The characters and personalities changed but the actors remained the same. It was currently one of the most popular shows, known to keep each episode fresh, new, and unique despite running for two seasons now. What some people didn’t know about the show was that each episode was filmed a week to two weeks before it aired, that way it kept the cast busy for however long the season was for. This season, number three, they were approved for 24 episodes.
Ochako heard the train approaching before feeling it, and within seconds the train flew by, slowed to a stop, and opened its doors. She waited for the passengers at their stop to get off before entering the train herself. Grabbing onto one of the handles above her, she observed other people piling into the cabin with her before the doors shut and she felt the train move. She had six stops before getting to the studio.
While waiting, she figured she could go over her script one more time. Pulling out her phone from her pocket, she tapped the necessary app needed until the script with her name on the cover was in view. Today, they were going to be filming a noir episode. Ochako’s character was the boss of a mafia gang; a woman who seemed frail to those from the outside but inside the mafia, she was respected and revered as ruthless. She never took no for an answer, and anyone who defied her she handled personally. Of all the characters the brunette had played during her time on this show, she really liked her the most.
There was a downside to her character, or rather who her character had to interact with, but she’d rather not think of him until she arrived on set and had to deal with it. Shaking her head to rid the image of blonde spiky hair, she continued to read her lines. The rest of her twenty minute train ride was spent going over the lines she had already memorized the night before. Before long, she heard the name of her stop and stowed her cell phone back into her bag. She waited for the train to come to a complete stop before exiting the train. Her feet led her up the stairs and out into the city subconsciously, knowing the route by heart, and found herself twenty minutes later at a large building. Nodding at the security guard in greeting, she took out her ID, tapped it against the white plate next to the door and, after the familiar buzz, entered the building.
In front of the brunette was the usual wide hallway with four abnormally large doors distanced far from each other, all labeled with it’s studio number and letter. At the end of the long hall was a staircase that led to the “second” level (that was actually about four floors up). Past the staircase was an old elevator. Luckily, the studio she worked at was just to the left before the staircase. “1A” was painted in bold red above the tall studio door the brunette needed to go through. She scanned her keycard again and at the familiar beep she pulled down the handle and entered.
Ochako fought back a shiver at the drastic drop in temperature and continued into the open lobby of the studio. Connected to this room was another hallway that led to the rest of the studio, which was where she saw a familiar face.
“Hey, Deku!” she chirped chearily with a wave at a particular man with curly green hair, bright emerald eyes, and pale freckled cheeks. The man was leaning against the entry of the hallway with one hand gripping his chin and the other gripping a packet of paper. The first few pages of what looked like his script was folded back. He was in the middle of one of his mumbling tangents when Ochako called out to him. He jumped a miniscule before turning toward her voice and giving her a bright smile.
“Oh, hey Uraraka!” he greeted back with the same enthusiasm. “You’re here early!”
Petite brown brows furrowed as she pouted in confusion. “What are you talking about? I’m here right on time.”
One quick look at her phone confirmed that she was, in fact, nearly twenty minutes early. Huh, well that was a first. “Guess I am here early,” she murmured with a hum.
Her friend and co-actor chuckled as he rolled up his script and stuffed it into the back pocket of his jeans. Midoriya Izuku was someone she had known since working on this show together. They clicked almost immediately when the klutz had tripped over his shoelaces and Ochako happened to pull his hoodie back in time for him to not faceplant. Since then, they’ve been nearly inseparable and close friends.
“I guess you’ll have to be mafia boss more often,” he teased as he took a few steps toward her. “Getting you to work on time is rare, but getting here early-”
“Oh, shut up!” Ochako laughed as she lightly pushed his shoulder. The short but built man barely budged as he grinned down brightly at her. Standing next to him reminded her how he was a good six centimeters taller than her, and that she was the second shortest person on set. She tried not to think about that though.
“Speaking of early,” the brunette hummed as she tucked a strand of hair behind her ear unsuccessfully, “where’s our resident asshole?”
Deku’s brows twitched together in brief confusion before he snorted. “You mean Kacchan?” he chuckled. “He should be here any minute. Actually, I’m kinda surprised I got here before he did today. He’s always here before even the production crew.”
Well that’s peculiar, she hummed to herself. I wonder what’s holding him up today…
Ochako decided to voice her thoughts. “What do you think-?”
Suddenly the door behind her slammed open and she felt herself be shoved harshly forward, pain jolting in her shoulder. “What the fu- Move it, Pink Cheeks! You’re in the damn way!”
And just like that, her morning was soured. Ochako knew she was going to see the dick soon, just not that soon. She bit back an aggravated growl as she rubbed her shoulder and glared at the back of the asshole she knew all too well.
“Good morning Kacch-!”
“SHUT IT, NERD!” the blonde barked angrily as he stormed past him. She pouted angrily at his clothed back until he disappeared into one of the connected hallways and seconds later with a slam of a door.
Bakugou Katsuki: A talented actor who was one of the youngest in his field to earn a Best Actor award for film and television. Ever since he was a child acting in small time advertisements, he had been known for his incredible skills. As he grew older, he grew into his own style and even performed his own stunts. His resume grew until it landed him on this show. At first glance, it was admirable how he got to where he was now, but then you meet him and the dumpster fire hell that makes up the blonde. Irritable, arrogant, petty, self-absorbed, and selfish don’t even properly cover how big of a dick the blonde was.
“Paparazzi must have found out about his route again,” Ochako heard Deku muse. “He only arrives late when he gets discovered...“
Ochako leveled her glare to pout as she turned her nonplussed gaze at her friend, who had his hand pinching his chin and the other holding his arm up. “Deku, it’s ten before eight.”
He waved a hand. “By Kacchan’s standards, that’s late.”
She huffed as she crossed her arms across her chest, her turtleneck sweater scrunching up in the process. Prior knowledge that Deku and Bakugou used to be childhood friends was the only reason why the disgruntled brunette didn’t question how she would know what would upset him. She didn’t understand why her friend was so polite to the guy, or what exactly the status of their relationship was, but truthfully it wasn’t really any of her business.
Actually, with how often he praised the blonde dumpster fire, she would’ve thought he was heads over heels in love with him if her friend wasn’t already in a relationship with another actor, Todoroki Shouto, and the camera lead, Sero Hanta. “That still doesn’t excuse his behavior,” she grumbled. “Or that today’s shoot is going to be any less miserable.”
Deku sighed and lightly patted her shoulder. "No, but at least you're only shooting one scene with him-"
"Three," she grumbled, pouting even more.
"Wha-? No, Uraraka, you're only in one scene, and he barely interacts with your character-"
"It's three," she sighed. "And long ones, too. Don't you remember at the meeting last Friday? They mentioned they were going to change Bakugou's role after he threw a fit about being an 'extra.'" She separated her arms to make air quotes before returning them back across her chest.
The greenette froze. Shifting her gaze to view him in her peripheral, she saw that his face had paled and scrunched up like he ate a lemon. A brown brow raised suspiciously as he removed his hand from her shoulder and nervously pressed his index fingers together. Wait a minute… Was he-?
"That's right!" Ochako gasped. "You weren't able to make the meeting!"
Deku shuffled his feet, and she bit her lip to stop the giggle that threatened to escape her. Now was not the time to laugh at the image of this brickhouse of a man skittering about similarly to a child waiting for their punishment. "I had that meeting with All- I-I-I mean with that movie deal and I-"
"Deku, you don't need to explain it to me," she chuckled. "Here, I'll dropbox the new script to you, ok? That way you can at least know today's lines."
The man seemed to shrink even more to himself. "That's ok, I already have it," he muttered shyly as he pulled out the rolled up packet of paper from earlier. "I knew there were changes but not that big of a change…"
The brunette smiled as she nudged his shoulder with her own. "Come on, I know you'll be fine! You're one of the hardest workers I know. If anyone can mesmerize their lines in an hour, it's you!"
Just then, feedback screeched through the PA system before a tired voice called through the speakers. "Morning freaks. Make up's in five, costumes in fifty. Everyone be ready by nine. That's all."
As quickly as the static came, it shut off. "Shinsou sure sounds lively today," Ochako mused. Deku hummed in response. They stood there for a moment longer before Ochako clapped her hands together. "Well, we heard the man! Let's go get ready. I'll see you soon, 'kay?"
Deku stared at her apprehensively before blinding her with his 100 watt smile. "Right!"
They walked the same hallway together before saying their goodbyes and walking in opposite directions to their respective rooms. By the time Ochako reached her dressing room, her hair and make-up artist (and best friend) Asui Tsuyu was already in her room. "Good morning, Ochako," she croaked, her eyes wide and awake but her voice not quite there yet. She attempted to clear her throat before continuing, "How was your weekend?"
Ochako went through the motions of removing her hat and scarf, and pulling her sweater over her head as she replied. "Same old same old. How about yours? Did you see the movie you talked about with Tokoyami?"
She finished just as she turned to see her friend grin widely with a blush. "Yes, we did," she croaked with a smile. "The movie was a bit dark but we had a nice time."
"What is that, date number four?" Ochako said excitedly as she rushed over to the sink and went through the motion of washing her face. Tsu patiently waited for her to finish and approach the chair facing a long plain dresser with an equally long mirror along the wall Tsu motioned for her to sit in. "This is so exciting! I can't wait to meet him."
The short woman flushed further as she grabbed a brush and a comb and began to separate her hair. "Yes, it was. Though Fumikage is very shy, it'll likely be some time before you get to meet him."
Brown eyes found green and glittered mischievously. "Fumikage, huh?"
"Yes," she replied as she corrected the parting in the brunette’s hair, her voice clearer than before. “You know I don’t like being called by my last name. I suggested to Fumikage that we call each other by our given names and he agreed. His blush was definitely worth it.”
Ochako giggled as Tsu chuckled. She had always felt relaxed by her friend’s presence. Something about Tsuyu just calmed her; it may be her serene aura that always seemed to surround her, or her blunt honesty that she somehow addressed kindly. There were many things that made it calming to be around her, and many more reasons as to why they were best friends.
The next thirty minutes were spent teasing and styling the brunette’s hair, adding some extensions to add length to her short length hair, until her brunette locks were pulled into a braided bun with her bangs framing her face and a few strands of air trailing out of her messy yet neat bun. “Wow! You’ve really outdone yourself this time, Tsu,” Ochako cooed in awe as she twisted herself to get a better view in the mirror.
“Wait till you see the make-up,” Tsu replied back with a smile. Her friend’s long dyed green hair (that somehow only she and Deku can truly pull off) was tied in a neat bow at the bottom, swishing softly side to side as she gathered her make up materials she’d be using, piling on top of a tray. When the wide eyed, wide mouthed woman spun around to face her, she took careful steps back to Ochako before placing them close to them both and instructed the brunette to close her eyes and tilt her head back onto the headrest.
As she felt a wet foam pat her face with concealer, she heard her friend start another conversation. “Bakugou sounded pleasant this morning.”
Ochako groaned. “Don’t mention the gremlin’s name in my safe space, Tsu. You know better than that.” The brunette heard her friend hum as she continued to pat and blend. “But yeah,” she continued. “According to Deku, paparazzi found his route again and made him late, thus his cheerful arrival. Or so he says anyway; you know how he is.”
She waved a hand nonchalantly in the empty space next to her before returning it to the arm rest. “Why’re you bringing him up, anyway?” she grumbled, trying very hard not to furrow her brow.
There was a pause with what she assumed was the blending egg before a thumb pressed down between her eyebrows. Dang it, she thought to herself as she forced herself to relax her face. It’s not her fault she was expressive! “I heard you’re in three scenes together,” Tsu said bluntly. “One is particularly intimate. I wanted to check in with my friend and see how she feels about it.”
Ah, shit. As much as Ochako loved being around Tsu for being calm yet honest, and she truly did appreciate her bluntness, she also had a way to guilt you that the brunette always fell for. “I dislike you when you do that,” Ochako grumbled, unable to hold back her pout.
Pressure between her brow forced her to relax her face again, though her lips stayed pursed with her lower lip jutting out. “At least it’s not hate,” her friend chimed back. “But really Ochako, I’m worried about you. I’m not questioning your ability to handle him,” she said firmly as her mouth opened and shut with a clack. “You’re both talented actors - your talents complement each other very well despite your disputes - and seeing you both act in scenes together are mesmerizing, but off set you’re water and he’s oil. You two are always fighting and one of these days I’m concerned it’s going to bleed into a scene and you’ll both get in trouble.”
Ochako took a deep breath in and released it slowly. She understood where her friend was coming from, and truthfully this wasn’t the first time she had brought this up. As much as she wanted to say her friend was wrong, she knew she was right. Beneath her bubbly, happy self was stubborn determination and a hot temper when she was pushed. She didn’t hide it, but that part of her rarely appeared. At least, until Bakugou came into her life.
Still, she didn’t think it’d ever get that bad. Tsu was perceptive, but so was Ochako… somewhat. Arguments off set? Yeah, it happened frequently, but everyone knew to stay away when they got into one of their many verbal arguments. Even Iida, one of the directors, knew to stay far, far, far away from them when they got like that. But as soon as the clapperboard snapped shut and the cameras were filming, they reverted to their professional selves. They never let themselves get in the way of their work. It was one of the very few things they never verbally said but silently agreed on.
“I understand your concern,” Ochako said softly as eyeshadow was brushed along her eyelid. “I’ll admit we get a bit… explosive.” They both giggled at that. “But if there’s one thing we agree on it’s that our careers come first. We’d never let our feud ruin our work. Ever.”
Tsu remained silent as she finished the eyeshadow and applied eyeliner and mascara. After a long moment, she felt something be spritzed on her face (probably the setting spray) and a light tap on her shoulder. Ochako opened her eyes and immediately lifted her head and tilted it forward toward the mirror. She gasped. “Wow, Tsu! You really outdone yourself!” the brunette praised.
Even without the costume on, Ochako felt like she was a boss. A mafia boss. Although her makeup seemed simple in general, her usually rosy cheeks were more emphasized and the smokey eyeshadow added a certain edge to her brown eyes. Her lips remained naked (so far), but overall she felt like a badass.
“Thank you,” the greenette replied as she turned to ruffle through the tray of makeup she prepared earlier. “Only thing left is the lipstick. You won’t be able to drink or eat anything after this is applied, so drink some water now.
“And don’t bite your lip,” Tsu scolded. She shot her a look as Ochako released her lower lip and pouted. “Don’t give me that look. It’s required for your first scene.”
She hated when her friend was right.
… Ok, she doesn’t actually hate it, but the sentiment still applied.
“Look up,” Tsu asked politely and Ochako obliged after taking a few sips from her bottle of water. Her eyes followed large but gentle and expert hands as the grenette used a Q-tip and applied a healthy amount of the lipstick onto the cotton tip. “Open your mouth like so,” Tsu continued and dropped her jaw enough for her mouth to open. Ochako copied the motion and her friend leaned forward to use the red stained tip to coat her lower lip.
“I know you’re both career driven,” Tsu said, and Ochako was confused as to what she was talking about until she remembered their previous conversation. “I just worry is all. You’re both hot tempered, even if you refuse to admit it. It stays hidden, but he finds a way to light your fuse. Just be careful is all I’m saying. I didn’t mean to offend you.”
Tsu leaned back and rolled her lips inward in a side-to-side motion with her jaw for the brunette to follow. Ochako obediently followed and spread the lipstick evenly. The greenette nodded her approval before walking away to put away the makeup supplies. “You didn’t offend me, Tsu,” the actress said softly. “I appreciate your honesty; it’s something I value about our friendship.”
The artist turned and quirked a black brow, her expression laxed but her green eyes lit in happiness. “Best friends?”
Ochako grinned toothily. “Best friends.”
“What about me?!” a high pitched voice screeched. “I thought we were besties, ‘Chako! Oh, the betrayal!”
Ochako giggled as she turned away from one friend and to the door, where her cosmetic artist/occasional co-actor/friend stood with a dramatic pout. Her bubblegum pink mess of curls bounced as she shifted from one foot to the other with a high pitched whine. “Of course you are, Mina,” the actress continued to giggle. “I can have more than one best friend.”
Ashido Mina was her most extroverted friend and also the loudest both visually and literally. Her preferred choice of clothing always had bright colors and an animal print. Although one would think it would clash with her hair color and honey brown, almost yellow eyes, she always found a way to make it work for her.
Mina immediately perked at Ochako’s statement and squealed in joy. “Yay! Besties!” she cheered as she pumped a fist above her. She is so ridiculous, Ochako thought as she laughed at her antics. “Ok, but seriously! I have the most badass, most AMAZING outfit for you, my Ochako-latte queen.”
Mina’s hips swayed as she skipped away from the door and pulled in a rack that had three black bags swinging on hangers. “If this doesn’t say mafia boss, then cut my hair and make me bald!”
“That’s… quite a statement,” Ochako said with an awkward chuckle.Mina was always extreme in anything she did… and said. “I’ll take your word for it. I’m surprised Momo isn’t the one showing off her costume design though. Is she busy?”
Mina hummed an affirmative as she rolled the rack into the center of the room, causing the bag to swing side to side. “She’s assisting Iida at the moment. You know how he always asks her for a second opinion, even though she’s a designer. I seriously think they need to upgrade her to a better title; she does way too much around here and gets paid too little for how much she works her perfect behind.”
Their other friend and coworker, Yaoyorozu Momo, had many hats. Although her official title is costume designer, she’s also helped direct, produce, and occasionally write parts of the show. The raven haired girl was extremely intelligent, but also extremely kind. And naive.
“You know she would say no,” Tsu replied. “As long as her name is in the credits she’s fine. Besides, pay has never been an issue with her.” Another fact about their friend: Her family is extremely wealthy. She’s the only person at this studio who can afford to own a luxury penthouse “apartment”.
“That’s true,” Mina said as she unzipped the bags and revealed the clothing inside. Waggling her pink-dyed eyebrows at the two other ladies, she cooed “But enough about that.”
“So?” she said smugly in a sing-song voice, the vowel dragged out. “Whatcha think?”
Ochako’s jaw dropped. “Holy cow, that looks amazing!” she said excitedly. The costume inside the bag was all black except the burnt orange waist high pants. There was a sleeveless black turtleneck crop top along with a long sleeved thick leather jacket. Hanging from the hanger was a black belt with two empty holsters. Brown eyes shifted toward a clear bag that hung next to the costume, where a pair of black laced stiletto heeled ankle boots sat in waiting.
“Uh… There’s no way Momo would pick stilettos for me. I’m much too clumsy for shoes like that,” Ochako chuckled nervously, pointing at the boots. “This is a joke.”
The brunette looked at Mina with an uneasy grin, who gave her a Cheshire grin in return that made her stomach drop. “No way, you don’t expect me to walk in those, do you?!” Ochako asked incredulously as she pointed at the boots. The grin that Mina gave her sent shivers down her spine. “Oh, most definitely yes.”
~*~
After twenty minutes of arguing, screaming, and fighting, Ochako found herself huffing and pouting on the set with a small plastic container of red bean and strawberry mochi in her hand - an apology gift from Momo for not being able to hold Mina back. In the actress’s opinion, the wrong person apologized, but one look at the smug pinkette told her that an apology wasn’t arriving any time soon. The worst part about this wasn’t the high heels that were already making her feet ache or the thickness of the pleather jacket making her sweat uncomfortably or the feeling of the jacket rubbing against the bare damp skin of her underarms. It was that Tsu threatened to take her mochi away if she ate even a nibble of the delectable treat and ruined her lipstick.
As Ochako stared longingly at the small container, her mouth watering in future anticipation, she felt a presence next to her. Raising her gaze she pouted even more at the shit-eating grin on Deku’s countenance. “Oh hush,” she spat as she quickly gave him an up-down glance of his costume before glaring away from him with a harsher pout.
He wore his character’s signature red sneakers (every character he acted as always wore those shoes; it was a gag from season one that they decided to continue from then on), dark skinny jeans, and a white t-shirt that simply said “This is my killing shirt” in black. It… wasn’t exactly what Ochako had in mind when she thought of “mafia henchman”. Then again, eight times out of ten the writers wrote Deku’s character as goofy, fun, and lovable on the outside but actually deep, sophisticated, and sometimes a bit deranged.
In last week’s episode, Deku played as a cry baby who quite literally sobbed about everything - happy, sad, angry, any emotion. This week’s episode, Deku’s character will be seen single-handedly killing a target Ochako’s character told him to “take out”, getting completely soaked in synthetic blood and guts. What can she say? Her friend had range.
“I didn’t even say anything!” Deku exclaimed, pulling Ochako out of her derailing thoughts.
“You don’t need to,” Ochako glared at him in a side eye glance. “Your face says it all, jerk.”
He stifled a laugh behind a cough and failed to hide his smile from her. Despite being an amazingly talented actor and being able to express varying emotions, he couldn’t hide his true emotions off camera. “That you look like a mafia boss who looks like they’re contemplating murder over mochi?”
Ochako refused to admit that he was sorta right, or that her face flushed due to that truth. “No!” she raised her voice before lowering it back to a normal level. “... Maybe… Didn’t I tell you to hush?”
Deku bursted into loud laughter right as Iida’s booming voice echoed in the large room. “May I have everyone’s attention! We will be rolling in 3 minutes! Actors, please take your places!”
“Must he always use a megaphone…?” a blonde with a black electric bolt printed in his hair bemoaned as he set up the halo lights. She recognized him as Kaminari Denki, the stage lights manager. “His voice is loud enough as it is without one.”
“Kaminari, this is Iida we’re talking about,” a dark haired, tall lanky man said with an undercut and a wide toothy smile. “Everything he does is extreme and over the top, you know this.”
His dark eyes shifted from Kaminari to Deku. “You look good in skinny jeans, Izuku,” he complimented, though Ochako had a feeling there was a different meaning to the compliment.
A quick side eyed glance at Deku confirmed she was right as he was flushed from the roots of his hair all the way down past his shirt. Ochako smirked at his reaction toward his boyfriend, Sero Hanta. “Th-thank you, Hanta,” the greenette squeaked back, and she couldn’t hold back her laugh.
“The fuck you extras standin’ around for?” a loud gravely voice snapped from behind. “Move it!”
Ochako’s bad mood returned twice-fold as she felt someone cutting between Deku and herself, pushing them apart. She growled in frustration before calling out, “What the hell, Bakugou?! There was plenty of space to go around us, asshole!”
The angry blonde froze briefly before spinning around to face her in a rage. “WHAT THE HELL DID YOU SAY?!” he screamed as he shook a fist at her.
Despite his face twisted into an ugly, furious scowl, Ochako lamented the way seeing him in his costume caused the temperature around her to rise. He was matching her attire somewhat, with baggy black slacks, black laced combat shoes, an untucked dress shirt, and a black leather jacket. Silver caught her eye as she noticed “BOOOOM” in silver pointed, jagged letters spelled out across his knuckles, the brass(?) knuckles very suiting today's episode and general explosive personality. His eyeliner was perfectly smudged yet sharp, making his ruby red eyes appear deadlier. She hated how good he looked in his costume, or just looked in general. The man was handsome, and it was a shame that his personality was as awful as it was.
“Baku-bro, you can’t go pickin’ fights just cause you’re in a bad mood,” his hair and make up artist, a tall and bulky red head named Kirishima Eijirou, scolded as he chased after the blonde. He turned apologetically to Ochako with a sheepish smile. “Sorry about him, Uraraka. Paparazzi found him again and he had to change his route, so he’s a bit of a grump this morning.”
He’s always a grump, she was going to retort, but decided to bite her tongue instead. In her peripheral vision, she could see Deku giving her a knowing look. She ignored him.
“Quiet on the set!” Iida called out very obviously through a megaphone, and Ochako gave a curt but friendly hello to the redhead before turning to Deku and squeezing his hands. She bid her freckled friend a quick “See you later” before meeting up with Tsu one last time for final touches on her make-up and walking onto one of the larger sets.
Studio 1A had six indoor sets (four “inside” sets and two “outside” sets) that were reused every episode for whatever the theme is for that episode. Where filming was taking place for her at the moment was the second largest set that was staged to be in the living room of a multi-billion yen home. The dark grey room had a “lit” obsidian fireplace (a green block was in the space where the fireplace would be with LED lights in the space where the fire would be, softly lighting a section of the room with fire-like light) with a large sectional “leather” black couch (a cloth couch covered in pleather fabric) and a dark low coffee table facing it on seemingly porcelain floors. On the adjacent wall was a window with green screen cloth where the glass would have been. Overall, the set looked exactly like the script had described her character’s home to look like.
In the two walled “room” was the director Iida Tenya, her friend/costume designer/occasional producer/writer Momo, and a determined Bakugou. Ochako took a deep breath before taking another breath as she walked toward the trio. “Good morning!” she chirped cheerfully.
Iida and Momo turned toward her with matching smiles while the blonde rolled his eyes. “Good morning, Uraraka!” the tall director said with a stiff greeting hand, contrasting the friendly look on his countenance. “Are you ready for today’s scenes? Midoriya told me of his dilemma and I wanted to make sure no one else had an issue.”
The brunette withheld the chuckle that threatened to escape her as he chopped his hand. The navy-haired man always moved stiffly like a robot, but behind his rectangular spectacles were intelligently kind grey-blue eyes.
Instead of laughing at his expense, she answered honestly, “I’m fine, I was at the meeting and was made aware of the changes. I’m ready when everyone else is.”
“Tch.”
Ochako ignored the blonde’s rude response as Momo clapped her hands. “Splendid! So for this scene, I’ll need you here…”
The raven-haired girl guided her to where and how she would be sitting on the couch, explaining what was expected of the scene and a rough run down of how her character should react to certain lines. Bakugou, though a short distance away and brooding, listened and nodded whenever Momo addressed the blonde. Within five minutes, Momo wished them luck and left the set alongside Iida to watch the scene unfold from behind the camera.
Bakugou scoffed, mumbling something under his breath as he, too, moved off set and waited for his cue. Ochako sat in the center of the couch, where her silhouette would be seen by only the light of the fireplace. She relaxed on the couch with one leg crossed over the other, as she was instructed, and picked up the book that laid next to a martini glass on the coffee table. There weren’t any words inside, as it was just a prop, but her character was to be reading until she was interrupted by Bakugou’s character with bad news.
“Quiet on the set!” Iida called out. Any conversation stilled until only the sound of the fake fire crackling could be heard. “Lower the lights!” The room dimmed until only the light from the LED lights could be seen. “Roll Camera!”
A woman’s voice, one she recognized to be Hagakure Tooru’s, called out, “Season three. Episode four. Scene one. Take one.” A large CLACK! was heard before Iida’s voice called out again, “And… Action!”
Ochako breathed slowly and steadily as she “read” her book from her lap. Just as Momo had instructed her from before, she sat up straight but relaxed enough for her back to be touching the couch. She heard footsteps approaching her from behind just as she turned a page. The footsteps paused hesitantly before continuing to move forward. “Pardon the intrusion, boss,” a deep gravelly voice called out.
There was a brief pause as she continued to “read”. “What is it, Bakuto?” she called out calmly, but with authority. Outwardly, she was calm, collected, intimidating; the essence of a mafia boss. Inwardly, her heart was racing with excitement. I sound so cool!
Bakugou- Bakuto grunted and shifted from one foot to the other nervously. “There’s, uh…” he paused. “There’s been a problem.”
Ochako hummed as she reached out to her martini glass, her eyes not moving from her book. “And what would that problem be?” she purred before spitting out a calm, “Spit it out.”
“Th-the-” Bakuto stuttered anxiously before coughing to clear his throat. Feigning confidence, he continued in a normal voice, “It’s the shipment, ma’am. We were intercepted by an outside group. Someone snitched and we were forced to fall back. Luckily, no one was captured, but… Kussami was injured. He’s in recovery now.”
At the sound of the news, she paused just as the glass touched her lips. A moment after he finished, she continued to sip from the glass slowly (thankfully water with a very real olive on a toothpick inside) before placing the glass gently on the coffee table. “Come here,” she purred. There was a long and hesitant pause before Ochako called out in a low voice, “Now, Bakuto.”
Scrambled feet rushed around the sectional until she could see him standing near her in her peripheral. She waited a heartbeat longer before placing the ribbon inside the crease and closing the book, leaving it in her lap. “You must be exhausted after such a long day,” she said nonchalantly. “Come, sit.”
Ochako raised her gaze to Bakuto, whose mouth was screwed tightly into a thin line but red eyes were wide in alarm. His jaw was clenched, the tendons in his neck bulging from the effort, and his hands were opening and clenching into fists. The silver across his knuckles sparkled in the firelight. At her expectant gaze, he froze, audibly inhaling sharply before moving slowly to sit furthest away from her.
Brown eyes followed his every move, just as she was instructed to do. The brunette smiled in feign kindness as she tilted her head toward the fireplace. “You’re so far, Bakuto… Wouldn’t you prefer to sit closer?” she purred. “I won’t bite.”
Bakuto stared ahead, a sweat forming along his brow. He gulped anxiously as he hesitantly scooted himself closer to her, a single cushion separating the two of them. Bakugou is amazing, she thought to herself in awe before mentally shaking herself from her thoughts. Every time she acted with him, she was reminded just how talented this veherant man was. He might be a horrible person to work with, but she truly did enjoy their scenes together when in scene.
Ochako hummed as she uncrossed her legs and stood up from her seat, walking in front of Bakuto (who winced, she was pleased to see) to stand in front of the fireplace. Her hands were behind her back, the book in hand as the other held her wrist loosely. She waited for her cue to continue, giving Sero time to move the camera to get her side profile, and at the sound of the fireplace popping she spoke. “You know… I don’t think I ask for much.”
She paused for dramatic effect before continuing. “I give you a roof over your head… Food to eat… A bed to rest your head on… Money to spend however you like… My other children, I understand, will occasionally stumble. They lack experience, too eager to please their den mother. You, on the other hand-”
“Boss-”
“Silence,” she commanded, and quietness filled the room once more.
The power Ochako held was addicting. Swallowing the smile that threatened her face, she continued. “You, on the other hand… You’ve been my second in command for years. I give you a team, just as you asked. I give you missions, just as you asked. I give you the ranking you convinced me you deserve and this… This is what I receive in return.”
She sighed dramatically and tilted her head back. “I give all these things willingly, asking only that you do as you’re told in return, and this is the thanks I get.”
Ochako turned in the direction the camera was filming and looked at Bakuto over her shoulder. He stiffened under her gaze, and she felt a shiver up her spine at the power play. “What am I to do with you,” she hummed in a low voice, her tone threatening underneath the guise of curiosity.
Bakuto opened and closed his mouth, mouthing words, before clacking his teeth together in a grimace. “It’s not my fault,” he grunted between gritted teeth. “They surrounded us, and we had no choice but to-”
“Not your fault,” Ochako parroted as she fully turned toward him. “Did you not hand-select your team?”
Bakuto dug his nails into the cloth of his thighs. “Yes,” he grunted, “but-”
“And was it not you who chose this mission specifically? Even after I was hesitant to give it to you?” she continued to ask in that syrupy sweet tone as she began to walk toward him slowly.
His hands shook as they gripped his pants tighter. “Y-yes, but-”
“And,” she interrupted him again, her tone icy, “was it not you who realized there was an insurgent amongst us, and despite knowing how it would affect the family decided to keep it to yourself?”
Bakuto froze, his eyes as wide as dinner plates. His voice was just above a whisper, “You… you knew-”
“I know everything, Bakuto,” Ochako said calmly, just as there was calm before a storm, and continued to walk toward him. “I know that you knew about the insurgent… I know that you were using this mission as a ploy to test your hypothesis... “ She stepped in front of the sitting man, the blonde physically shaking in his seat as he refused to meet her gaze. “And… I know that you purposely wasted resources, knowing that this mission would end up being a bust.”
Silence filled the room, except for the occasional crackling of the fireplace. Bakuto dropped his head after a time. A moment later, his gruff voice softly interrupted the silence. “I was doing what I thought was best for the family, and I didn’t want to worry you-”
“Lies,” Ochako scolded with a raised tone. “A member of our family was injured. If you truly were doing what was best for the family then you shouldn’t have your rank. Tell me the truth. Now!”
After another short pause, he took a shaky breath and answered. “I… You’re right. I selfishly wanted to prove myself… Prove that I was worth the title you gave me. I didn’t mean for someone to get hurt…” His voice broke as he continued, “I just wanted to make you proud but I failed… I’m so sorry, boss, I-I didn’t mean for Kussami to get hurt or to fail you or the family- I just- I wanted-”
The brunette shushed him, running her hand soothingly through his unruly blonde hair. Touching him wasn’t in the script, but it felt right for the scene and before she realized what she had done she was already petting him. She felt him stiffen under her palm before relaxing and leaning into her touch, shocking her. Then again, this was Bakugou… If anyone could follow along off script, it would be him.
Ochako was momentarily distracted by how soft his hair was, struggling momentarily to remember her lines before they came back to her a moment later. “Honey, I’m not angry with you for failing the mission,” she said in a soft voice. “I’m angry you lied to me. I gave you many opportunities to come clean and still… You chose to try and deceive me.”
“But…” She used the book in her other hand (which thankfully happened to be on the side the camera was rolling) to tilt his head up by the chin. Her breath hitched in her throat, unprepared for the look he gave her. His eyes were blown and watery, as if on the verge of tears, and his countenance completely distraught like the thought of disappointing her truly upset him (which, according to the script, it did). But it was his heated gaze beneath the tears that threw her off guard, and she had to swallow the lump in her throat before she could continue.
“But,” she repeated (Fuck, I already said that! I need to focus), “I know your heart was in the right place. What you did was unforgivable and extremely dangerous, but you will remain as my second in command. I trust that you will not make this mistake again” With her other hand she brushed away hair that was in his face before cupping his jaw. “I trust you, Bakuto.”
The blonde shivered, and Ochako suddenly felt hot. Was his face always this close? Who was leaning in, her or Bakugou? Or both?
“Thank you,” he growled softly, his voice an octave lower than before. Ochako bit her lip and his gaze dropped to her lips briefly before raising to meet brown once more. “I won’t fail our family or lie to you again. I promise.”
She smiled sweetly as she caressed his cheek with her thumb and purred, “Good boy.”
“CUT!”
Ochako blinked out of her revere as the harsh lights came back on. Red and brown stared at each other as she began to blush harshly at the position they were in. Before she could apologize or think too much of it, she was shoved violently backwards. Falling harshly on her behind with a pained yelp, Bakugou rushed past her and off the set with shoulders hunched all the way up to his ears. She heard Kirishima chasing after him with a shout as she whined in pain.
“Uraraka! Are you all right?” a voice called out to her and she waved them off with the book.
“Yeah, I’m fine!” she called back as she slowly began to stand on wobbly heels, rubbing her behind with her free hand. She looked down to the coffee table that held the martini drink she was drinking, her lipstick staining the glass. She touched a flamed cheek with one hand, her mind rewinding and replaying the last couple of seconds of filming.
A tornado of emotions rampaged through her and made her dizzy. Separating them was difficult, especially the few she had never felt before toward the blonde and couldn’t fully recognize. She decided to focus on the one she could recognize, which was anger for acting the way he did when the scene ended. Why did he act that way? Did he want to get away from her that badly? Actually, thinking about how intimate it was and how close their faces were to each other, she determined that had to be it. If she wasn’t so shell shocked and confused, she probably would have done something similar; it was an intense scene, after all. Despite that, it still wasn’t a good enough reason to shove her away like that.
Trying to ignore the other emotions, she decided to hold onto that anger and play off her blush as an angry flush. Yeah, that had to be it! She was just upset! Poorly convincing herself, she walked off set to prepare for her next scene. She absolutely did not want to think about what Mina’s comments would be (which she knew was inevitable) or how she could still feel the softness of his hair underneath her palm or how close his lips had been to hers.