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It was pouring outside. The sky seemed to open up and let great sheets of water fall through the cracks, and Ochako could almost imagine an entire ocean just beyond the stars, draining out onto the Earth. The dark clouds hung low and heavy but there wasn’t a lightning bolt in sight, just the dim, dusty glow of the streetlights illuminating individual raindrops for single moments at a time.
Ochako sat in the common room, watching the rain pour as she lifted a mug of hot chocolate to her lips. She pointedly ignored her phone which read 1:38 on a school night, tucking it into her pocket so she wouldn’t have to be reminded of how late it was.
She drank in the silence, nothing but the storm to bother her. No assignments she had to rush to get done, no infinitely more talented classmates she ended up comparing herself to, nothing but the beat of raindrops against glass.
No girl that made her feel like she was floating and falling all at once.
She loved Tsuyu, she really did. For the first year of knowing her, a quiet admiration grew in Ochako for her like the one that grew for Deku. It was soft and sweet and shallow. And then suddenly she seemed to plunge deeper, deeper, deeper still until sometimes on quiet nights like this one silky green hair and slightly cool skin on hers was all she could think about.
For any other person, Ochako thinks, having certainly unrequited feelings for their best friend might feel like a death sentence. And some days it did. Some days she wanted nothing more than to run her fingers through her friend’s hair. Some days the urge to force Tsuyu to only look at her, just her, almost consumed her. Some days it took all she had not to kiss her forehead and then the corner of her mouth and then her fingers and then-
Most days though, she was more than happy with what they had. They cuddled and held hands and told everything to each other - well, almost everything. Ochako cried about something or other and Tsuyu hugged her, not saying a word, not needing to. Tsuyu became despondent and hollow (as she could tend to get some months) and Ochako reminded her to eat and drink water. All Ochako needed was to be around her, to hear Tsuyu’s croak beside her. She didn’t need more than that.
Ochako finished her cup of hot chocolate and padded into the kitchen to wash out her mug. She placed it into the sink with a definitive clack when she heard footsteps coming down the stairs behind her. She turned around, finding Tsuyu in an adorable polka dot raincoat and matching boots. Her hair was up in a messy bun, standard for when she was either studying or relaxing before going to sleep. Ochako prayed that the darkness hid the furious red she could feel creeping involuntarily up her ears.
“Hi Ochako, ribbit. What are you doing down here this late?”
Ochako grinned and met Tsuyu in the common room. “Hey Tsu. I was just enjoying the quiet. And you?”
“I wanted to go outside. Do you want to join me?” Well that certainly explained the outfit.
“It’s raining pretty hard, do you think we should?”
“I’m going with or without you. It’s been so long since I felt a proper storm, ribbit. Plus, you could always spend the night in my room after.”
Tsuyu was smart. She caught on pretty quickly that Ochako had a hard time saying no to her, and later that she had an even harder time saying no if there was a promise of either food or a sleepover after. Ochako had no doubt that if she didn’t want to her friend wouldn’t be offended. But, she also knew she wanted the company.
Ochako sighed and gave a quick, “Lemme grab my coat,” before running upstairs two steps at a time.
When she got back down, still struggling to tug her jacket on while holding a baby pink umbrella, Tsuyu practically dragged her to the door. It was unusual to see her so excited about something, her emotional range was generally pretty limited to slight variations on neutral. It made Ochako’s stomach swoop as if she were on an elevator.
They fumbled their way out the door and into the rain. It beat down on them and she knew that they were going to be drenched in minutes. The way Tsuyu’s eyes lit up like they rarely did made it hard to care though.
Ochako tried to open her umbrella, but Tsuyu noticed this and took it from her hands. “What’s the point if you don’t get a little wet, ribbit?”
If she were in her right mind, she could have listed off many points, but she felt drunk off of Tsuyu’s exuberance. Ochako thought foggily that maybe she could blame her stomach swooping before on nonexistent alcohol too, all so she could stay Tsuyu’s friend forever and never ruin it with feelings and expectations Tsuyu couldn’t return. This was too perfect to ruin.
Tsuyu found a puddle and leaped into it, running start and all. The splash was huge, and she was ever thankful she wore rubber boots. Ochako found another puddle close to her, jumping in it and soaking Tsuyu (and herself) up to their knees. It became a competition, and then a game - who could create the biggest splash, and then who could soak the other.
Eventually it dissolved in a sloppy game of tag, running through the campus trying to catch the other. Tsuyu was of course much better at it, considering her quirk, but it was fun nonetheless.
As Ochako felt a thick tongue wrap around her torso and lift her off of the ground, bringing her to its source, she began laughing uncontrollably, her body shaking from the force of it. As soon as Tsuyu put her down, she joined her, belly-laughing like Ochako hadn’t seen. She decided in that moment, tears streaming from her eyes as she giggled, that Tsuyu’s laugh was the most beautiful thing the world had to offer (the second being Tsuyu’s smile - the one that stretched across her entire face and seemed akin to all the stars in the sky put together.)
As Ochako unfolded herself where she had been clutching her stomach, she realized how close together they were to each other. She could pick out the raindrops clinging to Tsuyu’s eyelashes, how some of them fell as she blinked. She felt bold.
“Hey Tsu.” She started and then immediately realized she had no idea where she wanted to go with this. She regretted everything, oh god.
“Yes?”
“I just wanted you to know that, uh,” What did Ochako want her to know? Definitely not her feelings, she knew that. Christ, she didn’t think this through.
Tsuyu stared at her attentively, leaning slightly forward and closing the gap between them just a bit more. Ochako felt her breath catch in her throat.
“You’re just, well, you’re a really really good friend. And I really enjoy spending time with you. So, thank you. Yeah.”
The awkwardness of that sentence was something she knew would replay in her head the entire rest of the night, and probably the next day and many more days too. She was a complete idiot.
At these words, Tsuyu leaned back a bit, tucking her hands in front of her. Her face was once again a perfect neutral.
“Is that so, ribbit?” She said, glancing away.
Alarm bells began ringing in Ochako’s head. This may have been normal Tsuyu to anyone else, but she knew better. She said something wrong.
She was at a loss for words. She had no idea what she had done, what in that sentence made Tsuyu shut down like this. Her expression ripped Ochako’s heart apart as she saw the walls building once again.
And then it hit her - she had lied. Tsuyu valued one thing above all else and it was honesty, and even if Ochako hadn’t said a single untrue thing, lies of omission were still lies. Tsuyu probably saw it as a violation of trust and that’s why she shut down and oh god why was Ochako so stupid .
But, that meant if she was to remedy the situation, she’d have to tell her the truth. Could she really risk their friendship over this one mistake?
Except when Ochako looked at Tsuyu, her blank eyes staring down at her boots, she knew she couldn’t just gloss over this. She needed her to smile or frown or something again, anything but her intense neutralness, a new distance that seemed almost impossible to cross.
So, she scrunched her eyes shut, playing with a thread on her coat. The thread seemed to ground her, so all she had to think about was saying what she needed to say.
“No.”
“No, ribbit?”
“No, you aren’t. Well yes, you are those things, all of them, a good friend and someone I enjoy spending time with, and all that.”
“But?”
Ochako’s damp toes curled in her boots.
“But you are more than that. To me, I mean. You are everything. You- you make me feel so many things, all at once, and- ugh, this is a disaster. What I mean to say is, I love you. Am in love with you. Have been for a while now. And I know you don’t feel the same but I also know that you value honesty over everything and I’m so so sorry for lying and I just-”
“I love you too, ribbit.”
This made Ochako stop in her tracks completely. She opened one eye, then the other, looking upon her best friend’s face for proof that those words weren’t conjured up by her own mind.
And Tsuyu was smiling - that full, rare smile that never failed to make Ochako want to put it into a museum. She smiled so bright it looked like the midday sun hung in the sky at four in the morning. She smiled and suddenly Ochako was smiling and then they were both laughing again. They were so near each other that when she bent over, her forehead hit Tsuyu’s wet shoulder and she just stayed there, laughing into the plasticky material of the rain jacket.
She was crying too, because the girl of her dreams reciprocates her affections and she was planning to never say a word. Dumbass.
But still, as she lifted her head up from Tsuyu’s shoulder and looked at her - properly looked, drinking in every curve and imperfection - Ochako felt like she was flying. Wait, was she flying? Had she accidently made herself float?
She had to break away to check that yes, her feet were still firmly on the ground and gravity was still working for her. It didn’t feel like it.
Ochako turned back to Tsuyu once again, taking one large hand in her own. She threaded her fingers in Tsuyu’s, holding their hands between them like a bridge between worlds. She ran her thumb over her skin, a replacement for the repetitive motion the thread provided. And she said, in the softest voice she could muster, “Can I kiss you?”
Tsuyu nodded, and they came together in the middle, lips wet and cold from the rain that still beat down on them like drums.
Ochako always liked the rain. When she was little, she’d curl up and stare at the window for hours, trying to forget about her parents’ debts. But ever since that day the smell of ozone was more than just a comfort, something to wash away her stress and anxiety. It was Tsuyu. And Tsuyu was home.