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Fat raindrops drummed against the roof of Tsuyu’s cab. Slouched in her seat, she almost wished she’d walked, despite her aching muscles. She never felt more at home than in the rain. She was Japan’s Rainy Season Hero, after all. Spring had always been her favorite season; the dreamy scent of petrichor and the comforting sound of pattering rain made her happier than a frog perched on a leaky faucet.
Rolling her window down, Tsuyu rested her head on its sill. If the cab driver noticed, he didn’t comment, allowing her to enjoy the rain in peace as it streaked the grime on her face.
Tsuyu was no stranger to long days. Rescue missions were often more laborious than combative hero work. Today was no different. The better part of her morning and the entirety of her afternoon had been spent fishing amateur spelunkers out of a collapsed cavern. The delicate rescue mission had required the help of nearly every water-friendly hero in Japan. Even Gang Orca had been called to assist Captain Selkie’s crew.
Sighing in exhaustion, Tsuyu melted against the cab’s door, letting the wind and rain tangle her messy blunt bob. It would take a while to get used to her hair’s change in length, but she didn’t mind. Her locks were the only casualty of the day, and she was proud of that. Captain Selkie had promised she looked adorable, and Sirius had assured her that her new hair was far more practical than her old length, which she hadn’t cut since well before graduation.
None of that actually mattered, though.
Underwater, Tsuyu could hold her breath for an impressive length of time; the woman that had clutched at her front with white knuckles as they swam through the collapsed tunnels could not. That made the decision to hack her hair off when it got stuck an easy one. Tsuyu hadn’t hesitated, and she didn’t care if it was cute. She was just glad she’d gotten everyone out alive.
It wasn’t news to Tsuyu that rescue work was brutal and draining. She’d seen enough bodies in her first year as a rescue hero to last her a lifetime. So a day where everyone walked away and went back to their families was a good day. That was what mattered to her, and getting to go home to her girlfriends was the icing on top.
Smiling softly, Tsuyu pictured Ochako’s and Himiko’s reactions to her new hair. They’d probably love it.
The cab rolled to a stop in front of Tsuyu’s agency, and she hopped out, bowing graciously and paying the driver. With the dregs of her strength, she dragged herself to the staff locker room, peeled off her hero suit, and washed the day’s gunk away.
Once done, she dried off and pulled her favorite lavender jumper on, layering her rain jacket over it. At the sound of paper crinkling, Tsuyu discovered a hurriedly scribbled note in her pocket.
Be safe!! Stay warm!! ~ O
Don’t save anyone cuter than us! ~ H
Affection warmed Tsuyu down to her toes. Ochako and Himiko never failed to brighten her mood after a long day, and she’d never stop asking the stars how she’d gotten lucky enough to have them in her life.
Smiling through her exhaustion, Tsuyu grabbed her bag and hopped home, eager to greet her girlfriends.
Tsuyu smelled the smoke before she saw it.
Fear flooded her chest. Overcome by worry, she didn't waste time checking to see if her apartment’s door handle was hot. Jamming her key in, she forced the lock open, nearly ripping the door off its hinges as she burst into the apartment.
The sounds of the television hit Kitchen Clash: Pro vs Pro filled the apartment—a rerun, if the telltale lilt of Mina’s voice breaking the silence was anything to judge by, her cheeky commentary a stark contrast to Tsuyu’s dread.
Smoke hung heavy in the room. Something was burnt, and badly .
“Himiko? Ochako?”
Tsuyu needed to pinpoint the smoke’s source, but the pressing urge to check on her girlfriends dwarfed the thought. Rescue instincts kicking in, she ran to the couch, finding Himiko and Ochako asleep in a far-too-peaceful tangle of limbs.
“Wake up!” Tsuyu shook Ochako’s shoulder.
“Hmm...wha—?”
“What is going on?” Tsuyu asked, distress thick in her tone. Despite finding the girls unscathed, her mind and heart still raced.
“Ooooh,” Himiko mumbled through a yawn. “Pizza’s burning, ‘chako.”
Tsuyu was in the kitchen before Ochako could blink in response. She turned off the oven and peered through its glass at what had likely been a frozen pizza at a much earlier hour. The overpowering smell of charcoal pizza reeked, even through the closed door. At least nothing was on fire, though the revelation did little to calm Tsuyu’s nerves.
Turning on the kitchen fans, Tsuyu started cracking windows, her heart still thundering against her ribs. Ochako and Himiko were so careless sometimes. As much as she loved their carefree dispositions, she struggled to make peace with how thoughtless they could be at times.
Loving a fellow pro hero was challenging enough—loving an ex-villain harder still.
But loving both? That was an entirely different mountain that Tsuyu found herself unwittingly signing on to climb. At least she was built for the long haul, steadfast, determined, and willing to go to the ends of the earth for them. Still, it couldn’t possibly be good for her heart’s health.
“Explain.”
Tsuyu stood before Himiko and Ochako, her arms folded over her chest. Ochako had the decency to look sheepish, Himiko less so.
“We were hungry, so we made pizza. Duh , Tsu-chan.” Himiko shrugged and elbowed Ochako, simultaneously deflecting and playing dumb. “Right?”
“I’m so sorry, Tsu,” Ochako apologized, bowing her head in shame. “My last shift was exhausting. Pizza sounded good, but we fell asleep, obviously, and…” She trailed off and shook her head, her cheeks cherry red.
“You’re both careless,” Tsuyu said bluntly. “But I’m glad you’re okay. ” Her voice softened, and she couldn’t find it in herself to reprimand them further, not when Himiko and Ochako were very much intact and reproachful (in one party’s case).
“I had the longest day, and I don’t know what I’d do if something happened to you guys. Don’t scare me like this.” Tsuyu sank to her knees and placed her head in Ochako’s lap, her hand finding Himiko’s ankle and encircling it.
“Hey!” Himiko gasped. “Your hair!”
“What happened?” Ochako asked, running her fingers through Tsuyu’s short, choppy locks.
“It was unavoidable,” Tsuyu admitted, pressing her check into the soft cushion of Ochako’s thigh. “It got caught underwater when I was swimming someone to safety.”
“And?” Ochako breathed, an unspoken question perched on her lips.
“Did they die?” Himiko, with morbid curiosity and no reserve, had no qualms about voicing the question.
Tsuyu shook her head and tightened her grip on Himiko’s ankle. Humming in relief, Ochako continued to comb her fingers through Tsuyu’s hair.
“Good job, Tsu-chan!” Himiko beamed, poking Tsuyu’s cheek. “You’re so cool!”
From anyone else, the praise would have seemed simple-minded and superficial—not from Himiko, though. Tsuyu knew her girlfriend’s doting declarations were meant with every fiber of her being—and then some.
“I may have energy for one last rescue this evening,” Tsuyu mused, sitting up and brushing her hair from her eyes. “Get dressed. We’re going out.”
Sakura blossoms littered the ground outside the trio’s favorite hole-in-the-wall ramen shop. After a long day, nothing hit the spot quite as solidly as warm, savory broth, so it was without hesitation that Tsuyu had dragged her girlfriends down the street to it. The establishment's cozy atmosphere and late hours were an added bonus.
Perched on stools at the counter, the three slurped noodles and bumped elbows no differently than they had during their countless prior visits. A slight spring chill drifted in through the shop’s open front, but Tsuyu was unbothered. Wedged between Himiko and Ochako, she had all the warmth she needed, inside and out.
“Hey, you gonna finish that?” Himiko asked, leaning close and using her chopsticks to poke an egg Tsuyu hadn’t touched yet.
“Oh, are you done?” Ochako perked up, eyeing Tsuyu’s partially eaten ramen greedily.
“Back off, vultures,” Tsuyu laughed, plucking up the egg. “The least you can do is let me eat my ramen in peace, especially after I paid for dinner in spite of you smoking out our apartment.”
“Okay, but you don’t need all of that tofu, do you?” Ochako pressed, her fingers poised on her chopsticks, ready to strike at Tsuyu’s first sign of weakness.
“I don’t think she does,” Himiko mused, clacking the tips of her chopsticks together. “I think we should help her. Right, ‘chako?”
“Please do not help me.” Tsuyu tried to be stern but couldn’t keep the smile out of her voice as she picked up her pace, making quick work of her remaining tofu. “If you’re still hungry, order more.”
“Aww, Tsu-chan,” Himiko whined. “Ramen tastes so much better when you pay for it.”
“It’s true.” Ochako nodded in agreement, her eyes crinkling.
“If anyone should be treating anyone, it’s the both of you treating me,” Tsuyu decided with a hum.
“Aww, we’ll make it up to you, though!” Himiko chirped, resting her cheek on her hand.
“I’ll believe it when I see it.” Tsuyu’s deadpan reply set Himiko and Ochako off in a fit of giggles.
It mattered little, though. Himiko and Ochako didn’t owe a single thing to Tsuyu, not when they were already her world.
Letting their laughter wash over her, Tsuyu finished her food, warm to her core and unendingly in love with the pair. She’d happily rescue them time and again. They’d already rescued her more than they’d ever know, and she’d spend her life paying the debt without complaint.
It was the least she could do for the girls that taught her how to breathe and believe.