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One of Ochako's most distinguishable features was her chubby pink cheeks.
She wished people would identify her by something she chose for herself, such as her signature haircut or her killer thighs that resulted from hours of hard work in the gym. But nope, people always associated her with her big dumb pink cheeks.
Ochako wouldn't say she hated her cheeks. Hate was too strong of a word for it, but she did feel embarrassed by the attention they gained her. People always asked if she felt okay when she didn't wear foundation.
"Oh my gosh! You look so flushed! Are you feeling okay?"
"Wow, what's up with your cheeks?"
"Did you get into something you're allergic to?"
Most people who asked about her cheeks were doing it with good intentions; regardless, it embarrassed her when people brought attention to her rosacea. It was something that ran in her family. There wasn't much to treat it besides topical creams and most of the time she felt like it didn't do much but dry her skin out even more. For bad cases of rosacea, there is even a laser therapy treatment that her dermatologist says produces great results, but Ochako wouldn't classify hers as a bad case.
She had pink cheeks, and that was about it.
It was usually only bothersome when something trigged her rosacea to flare up, like hot summer days, strenuous exercise, or spicy food. Then the pink in her cheeks would double and become hot. It was uncomfortable but not unbearable.
The only intolerable thing about her rosacea was the comments made by other people. She was teased mercilessly for it when she was younger. It became less of an occurrence when she entered U.A. and started wearing foundation regularly.
Still, it would wear off throughout the day, and her pink cheeks would start to show through the protective layer of liquid she painted on her face every morning. She supposed she should stop caring as much because her friends at U.A. didn't tease her over it.
Bakugou expressed the only semi-critical remark about her cheeks, and even then, he gave a nickname to everybody; she much preferred her nickname over the ones he gave their classmates.
Whenever he would call her Round Cheeks or Pink Cheeks, it never felt like he was talking down to her, merely stating that she had round pink cheeks. It didn’t have the same malicious intent those childhood memories held for her.
The only time she went make-up free was during her workouts and when she was alone in her dorm room at night or on the weekends. It wasn't great for her skin; it needed more time to breathe in between foundation applications, but she felt more comfortable with it on.
It was Friday afternoon. Lessons were over for the day, and she was itching for her gym session. Class was rough that day; despite studying her butt off, she didn't do well on her math exam, and she was feeling down over it.
The gym was her safe place.
She hurried back to her dorm room, washed her face clean, and dressed in her typical gym attire of black leggings and a tank top.
Ochako liked going to the gym at night because most other students were done with their sessions by then. She was halfway done with her workout when another student joined her. Unhappily, she recognized the incomer as Monoma.
Her class was cursed with Mineta, but she felt bad for her friends Kendo and Tsunotori. They've exchanged horror stories, but Ochako thinks Monoma might take the prize of top jerk from Mineta. Based off what her friends told her, Monoma has done some ridiculously mean things.
Sweet innocent Tsunotori had fallen prey to Monoma's petty jokes too many times that eventually Kendo took her under her wing, and they've been best friends ever since.
Kendo liked to be wherever Monoma was to keep him in line. It seemed exhausting for Kendo to constantly be the one to put out fires started by somebody else, but Kendo seemed to have appointed herself this role and was happy to do so.
Today Kendo was nowhere to be seen. Ochako didn't give Monoma a second thought after that insight and kept to herself throughout the rest of her workout. The stares she received from him didn't go unnoticed, though.
She figured he was upset that he had to share the gym with somebody from his rival class. Well, he would just have to deal with it because the gym was for all the students to use.
By the time she finished, she was covered in sweat, and her cheeks were bright red and warm to the touch. She wiped her face off with her towel and, forgetting her audience, glowered at her reflection in the wall-length mirror behind the free weights.
Ochako wouldn't normally bring attention to her cheeks like this in public. She was feeling extra sensitive today after her poor score on the math exam, and her rosacea was an easy target to be upset with. Unfortunately, it had been a mistake because it gave Monoma the opportunity he was looking for to be a jerk.
"You know, they have make-up to cover those cheeks up," he snickered from beside her, finishing up his set of bicep curls.
The words pierced through her heart like a burning arrow.
Deep down, she knew her reaction wasn't because she genuinely cared what this jerk thought, but she couldn't help it. She hated it when people brought up her rosacea, and today was a particularly bad day to do it. She walked as fast as she could out of the gym without looking like she was running away, while tears ran down her cheeks without her permission.
She could hear Monoma's arrogant taunt as the gym door shut on her hasty retreat.
"Class 1-b is superior in every way. Even our girls are more attractive! BAHAHA!"
She wasn't crying because she thought her cheeks made her any less attractive. She wasn't crying because Monoma was the biggest jerk in school. She cried for the little girl who felt her cheeks made her different from her peers. That same little girl who felt her cheeks were a giant pink neon banner on her face that screamed, "I'm different! Point it out so everybody else can notice how different my face looks."
Now that she was older, she could logically understand that her pink cheeks weren't that big of a deal. She had pink cheeks—big whoop—but she was feeling sensitive today, and Monoma's words brought back the familiar sting of childhood taunts. They were wounds that have apparently never healed.
Everybody had that thing that they didn’t want pointed out and examined by others, and this was hers.
The next chance she had to challenge Monoma in a school event, she would do so to exact her revenge, but for now, she was hurt, and all she wanted was to hide in her room.
Her phone dinged with a notification. Through a watery gaze, she saw it was from her mother, wishing her a good weekend. She noticed the red flashing power bar in the upper right-hand corner of the screen.
Today was the absolute worst.
She had forgotten her charger in the common area yesterday. She saw it that morning during breakfast but had still forgotten to grab it. The plan was to pick it up after her workout, which seemed extremely unappealing after that night's events.
Her mom would worry if she didn't respond, so she gathered her courage, wiped her face clean, and trudged to class 1-a's living area. It was late. Everybody should be in their rooms by now; nobody should be there to witness her meltdown.
All she had to do was grab the charger, and then she could indulge in a private crying session in the safety of her room. She'll feel better after she cries it out of her system.
And because she must have done something to bring on bad luck that day, it turned out there was one person still awake. Bakugou was in the kitchen cooking himself a late-night snack. At least he won't try to stop me to talk, Ochako thought thankfully, knowing that if it were Deku, he would stop her to demand what was wrong.
She located her charger, snatched it up, and was on her way.
Bakugou's deep voice requested her attention with his trademark, "Oi!"
Ochako paused with great reluctance. She could just continue her escape and pretend like she didn't hear him. It’s not like he typically went out of his way to speak with her to begin with, but since they were the only two in the room, it was obvious whom he was talking to.
Ruffling her hair so the longer front pieces slightly settled in front of her cheeks, she turned to face Bakugou.
He abandoned the ramen he was skillfully preparing in the kitchen to lean a hip against the counter where he watched her. Bakugou's strong features were scrunched in deep thought as he studied her face closely.
The scrutiny made the hair on the back of her neck stand up.
"You've been crying. Your eyes are red," he grunted.
UGH! That was it! Ochako felt like she was under a freaking microscope today, and she was over it.
"Thanks for the unwanted observation, grumpy Sherlock Holmes," she snapped angrily, "have any other interesting findings to inform me of? What about my cheeks? Pinker than normal?"
Bakugou looked taken aback by her sudden display of irritation. She was usually the most levelheaded person in class, and it wasn't something he was used to seeing on her. With brows raised, he took a closer look at her cheeks with those dazzling red eyes of his and shrugged in confusion at his findings.
"Yeah?"
Ochako couldn't help it. She broke down in tears for the second time that night in front of a blonde boy, except this time, the boy wasn’t at fault. She felt terrible for making Bakugou witness her plunge into insecurity for the night. He was clearly bad with emotions, and he shouldn’t have to be a part of hers.
With pure panic etched onto his face Bakugou stood up straighter. He suddenly didn't know what to do with his hands. He reached for her, only to quickly pull them back to his side, before going for her again. Thinking better of it, he decided to keep his hands to himself and bunched them nervously into the pockets of his sweatpants.
"H-hey...hey…" he stuttered, the first display of uncertainty she had ever seen from him. "I was just answering your question."
She knew that!
The poor boy didn't realize that answering her question would send her into a downward spiral. None of this was his fault, which only caused more tears to stream down her cheeks.
Ochako lumbered over to one of the stools at the breakfast bar and sat down, laying her head on the countertop because it felt like too much work for her to remain upright. The cool marble felt amazing on her hot cheek, and it had an instant calming effect on her.
A hesitant palm started to rub circles onto her upper back. She peeped her free eye up to find an extremely uncomfortable Bakugou standing over her, doing his best to comfort her. It looked like he needed somebody to comfort him. It was funny, and she chuckled at him.
"What is so funny?!?!" he yelled at her with a frown. "I am trying to help here, all right? I didn't mean to make you cry."
"It wasn't you," Ochako sighed.
His hand paused, and his eyes darkened with a hint of violence.
"Then who did?"
Ochako got the feeling it would be better if she didn't tell him. They sat in awkward silence, and Bakugou became angrier and angrier with every passing minute. His eye twitched, and a vein in his forearm bulged from how hard he clenched his fist.
"We can wait here all night until you tell me," he said with an eerie calmness, and for the life of her, she didn't know why she answered him.
She told him everything that happened, from her rosacea to her bad day at school, and finally, the crappy comments Monoma made and why she reacted so negatively. He gave her his undivided attention as he listened to her speak, but when the part with Monoma came up, his eye started to twitch again.
After she told him what was said, Bakugou had to find something to distract himself. He went to his ramen and separated the contents into two bowels. He handed her a bowl, which she took with concealed glee because she knew what an excellent cook Bakugou was.
She thanked her lucky stars that he hadn't added the spice yet so her portion of ramen wouldn't flare up her rosacea even more than it already was.
"I'm just being extra sensitive today," she admitted, feeling silly about everything.
Looking into the dark broth like it held the answer to her problem, she was surprised when Bakugou shouted.
"NO!"
She observed him cautiously amongst the steam of her ramen. He was such an odd boy…but he'd been very kind to listen to her vent. Bakugou wasn't as much of a tough guy as he liked to portray; he had an ooey-gooey soft side to him.
"I mean, no, you aren't being sensitive," he corrected himself with a more appropriate volume for the late hour. "Everything he said was fucked up. Not only was it all incorrect, but he had no business looking at you in the first place. You were there to work out."
Her only response was a hum around a mouth full of noodles. They ate in comfortable silence this time and the silence continued once they were finished.
"I hate my cheeks," Ochako blurted out.
She didn’t, not really, but in this moment she kind of did.
Bakugou scoffed from the stool beside her and fired back, "You shouldn't. They are cute."
Realizing what he said, the tips of his ears turned bright red, and a slight dusting of pink adorned his cheeks. Ochako barely noticed, too busy not believing his words.
"Cute?" she asked incredulously.
Bakugou fidgeted with his chopsticks and spoke away from her when he muttered, "Yeah…chubby and pink like a Rosy-Faced Lovebird."
"Now is not the time for one of your mean nicknames, Bakugou," she deadpanned.
He flung back to face her, ready to snap, but settled down when he saw how she was lost in thought, a few small delicate fingers touching her cheek absently.
"Listen, it's a real bird, okay? Look, I'll show you," he told her, grabbing his cell phone from his pocket.
He googled the bird he was referring to and handed her the phone. Ochako seemed skeptical until she turned her eyes to the screen. She scrolled for a few minutes, looking at various photos of a small bird.
The birds mainly were a vibrant bright green, with blue feathers on their tails, and some had yellow feathers around their neck. They all shared a defining feature: their face and chest had a beautiful soft red hue. It was a striking contrast to their green features.
The little lovebird was so colorful and pretty; it brought a smile to Ochako's face.
"Tell me what you think of them," Bakugou demanded.
"They are pretty cute," she replied, the smile never leaving her face as she scrolled through more photos.
If she didn't know any better, she would say Bakugou was actually trying to cheer her up. If so, it was working. Nobody could be upset looking at such adorable photos.
"They have a rosy face, just like you. So…you should think you are cute, too," Bakugou mumbled, picking up their dishes and walking away before she could respond.
Hmm. He made a good point. If she thought the lovebirds were cute for having a rosy face, why should she feel any differently about herself?
"Thanks, Bakugou!" she beamed at him. "Text me a screenshot of one of those photos!"
He replied with a flippant whatever, but she received several photos after they parted ways later that night.
The following Monday, she saw Monoma in the hallway between classes sporting a black eye and swollen lip. When he saw her, his eyes widened to the size of dinner plates, and he took off running in the opposite direction.
Confused, she looked around and found Bakugou approaching behind her with Kirishima. Bakugou snarled over the display he just witnessed and stalked after the fleeing Monoma.
She heard him growl, "I told him to fucking apologize."
Kirishima slapped Ochako's back and barked out a laugh.
"Oh, you two lovebirds are so manly!"