Archive of Our Own ^beta

“Thank you so much, Ochako.” Ochako’s vision dulls with each passing moment, and she can barely see the outline of Himiko’s figure. Her body burns and shivers, and sometimes when her consciousness flows back to her she can feel Himiko’s touch on her. A sharp pain in her abdomen, an arm across her body, and a shaky breath that whispers words of gratitude that fall too gravely upon Ochako’s ears. There was a finality in them, despite the blurry grin that remains plastered across the blonde girl’s face. Ochako can feel something is wrong. With her body. With her aching heart. Himiko’s voice is barely a whisper now, and Ochako feels so much all too quickly. Her returning breath, and the bloodsoaked wisps of golden hair that stick across her own cheek. She felt warm, but Himiko was not. Each breath she took was a stolen one; it didn’t belong to her. 

“Hi- Hi..mi…ko.” It is the last word she can say, before Ochako’s eyes flutter shut. There is a vast emptiness, a void that hurts far more than the stab wound embedded in her, and it threatens to take everything away. It pulls Ochako further and further away from Himiko’s body, and as if Zero Gravity is activated, Ochako’s body meanders through space and time in a darkness that she sees no end to. She can no longer feel Himiko. Neither can she hear or see her. Even the rustic smell of blood that would otherwise have made her hold back a sickly gag is something Ochako craves. Because at least it meant Himiko was there. That Himiko was still beaming at her with that soft look in her eyes, tears welling evermore. 

And maybe then did Ochako understand–even if just a little–why Himiko loved blood so much.

—

Beep. Beep. Beep. 

The noise filters through her consciousness, forcing its rhythmic beat deep into Ochako’s fleeting dreams. There, she is filled with an oozing warmth, body free upon white clouds that she hops atop like a sparrow. She jumps from one to the other, and they tickle her cheeks and leave crystal dew drops upon her lashes. She laughs, her brown eyes turning a honeysuckle as the sun’s rays reflect upon them. It is peaceful and everything is perfect. Nothing hurts, nothing aches, save for her cheeks from smiling so much. She is free and even the sky is not a limit. She takes in a deep breath, her cheeks puffed up as she closes her hands into fists and pushes herself off a cloud and onto another. Her body rolls freely, hair swirling around her pink cheeks, and she adjusts herself so her feet are down again and ready to step onto another fluffy cloud. 

Beep. 

Ochako scowls at the odd noise, and she looks around for its source. She is only met with bright blue skies that merge into sparkling blue waters. The world is crystalline and she can hear the chirping of songbirds and smell the saltiness of the ocean. She shakes her head, forgetting the disturbance and returns to her game. Again, she readies herself, body wiggling a bit as she pushes herself off the cloud and reaches for another. She can almost touch its cottony surface with her padded fingers, but it slips from her grasp at the very last moment. 

Beep. 

She tumbles straight through it, the cloud disappearing into a hazy white smoke as Ochako rolls like a child’s discarded ball rolling down a steep hill. She can no longer tell up from down, her stomach knotting upon itself and she feels a deep pang in her chest. She shuts her eyes tight, and when she is no longer rolling, she opens them hesitantly. Her body is inches away from the reflective ocean surface, and as she peers down into its depths she can see the clouds that she once played in mirrored back to her alongside her own face. She floats in awe of the way the sun’s light ricochets off the still surface, splitting off into glittering orbs of light. A hand reaches down, the other held against her chest. Her hair falls in front of her face, and she can see how her lower body is held in the air while the rest is teetered forward. Her fingers are so close to grabbing onto that light, so close to feeling their warm touch. 

Beep. 

Ochako slaps her hand across the water’s surface, causing it to ripple and distort, salty drops of water clinging to her lips and she frowns. That damned noise keeps ruining things. Everytime she tries to have fun. Everytime she is exploring this beautiful world, that stupid beeping noise destroys everything. Ochako’s brows are furrowed as she watches the ripples spread further and further, until eventually there is a lull in the sea. She stares deeper, thinking maybe the noise is coming from beneath the water. Her eyes are determined, and she is there for a long while. The sun begins to set, orange and purple brushstrokes melting into the horizon until eventually the sky is dotted with stars. The girl grins, watching the starry sky’s reflection upon the water’s surface. Yet, still she remains adamant on finding the source of that noise. Her gaze does not rip away from her own reflection, and for a moment she notices the water begins to ripple though she had not touched it. Her eyes widen further, and her nose is almost wet from how close she is to the surface. 

That was when she began to see something else beneath the surface. Unfurled sunlight in the form of silk strands of hair. A wide smile and sharp canines, highlighted further by golden cat-like eyes. Ochako’s breathing falters, and her hands dig into her abdomen. She feels for something but is unsure what she is looking for. The form before her blurs and sinks deeper and deeper into the blackened water. 

“No, no, no. Please, wait,” she pleads, and Zero Gravity is released. She splashes into the water, feet kicking and propelling her further downwards towards that familiar smiling face. The image is sucked below like an anchor, and Ochako pushes with everything she’s got. Her hands are extended in front of her, brown hair floating like seaweed above her head. 

“Don’t go,” she cries, but the water drips into her mouth and drowns her every word. Nothing comes out save for choked bubbles of air and tears that coalesce with the rest of the salty water. The blonde girl’s smile sinks deeper, and Ochako’s body tries to continue on. Just a bit more. Just a bit more and she can hold her. Hear her. See her smile. 

“Ocha…ko.” The sound pops in her ear like a bubble and she kicks and screams to no avail. More. She had to go deeper. To fight harder against the currents. One more push. Just one more and she swears she could graze her cheek at the very least. Her arm is outstretched, fingers as straight as possible. Even if only her nails can make it. Even that would be enough for her. 

Beep. Beep. Beep. 

Ochako chokes and heaves, gasping for air as her body jerks forward. The image is long gone now, replaced with a burning brightness that makes her squint so hard that her eyes look barely open. 

“Call the doctor, now .” Overlapping voices fill her ears, alongside a strong scent of disinfectant and latex. She breathes, each inhale and exhale done slowly and manually. There’s a throbbing in her head that increases in intensity with each second that goes by. Despite it, she swallows thickly, her mouth dry and tasteless. Gradually, she begins to open her eyes like a curtain, letting the light in bit by bit until she grows used to it once more. There are people dressed in white and pale blue, though she can not quite make their faces out. Someone is holding her hand, and she hears what sounds like muffled sobs from two figures in the back. Her vision begins to clear after a few hard blinks, and she looks around with a sullen haziness. Her parents are holding each other at the edge of the bed, and the one holding her hand was Mr. Aizawa. His expression was grim, eye bags heavy and dark circles prominent. His hair is shaggy, and it curls around his blue hospital gown. Despite his appearance, his hold on Ochako is tender as he glances from her to the few people dressed in blue scrubs, one of them in a white coat. 

“Miss Uraraka, you’re currently at Central Hospital. Can you tell me how you’re feeling?” The doctor asked, holding a notepad and uncapping a black pen from his pocket. Ochako’s head lolled to the side, her eyes darting wildly across the room. It was gray, cold, and unfamiliar. The last thing she remembered was being on that battlefield with…

She squeezed Mr. Aizawa’s hand like it was the only thing that grounded her. Ignoring the doctor’s questions, her chapped lips quivered, throat scratching as she tried to speak. It was as if she had not said a single word for ages, her mouth finding it difficult to move. Her doe eyes–devoid of all the innocence of a sixteen year old teenager–pierced through her teacher’s remaining eye. 

“Wh…where’s ‘miko?”

Aizawa stares at her for a moment, and the room falls into a silent spell. The monitors beep, and the fluorescent light hums quietly. Ochako can almost hear her own heart beat in her chest, but it is a soft, distant thumping of a drum. She feels that she can reach inside her chest and pull her heart out and into the palm of her hands like an injured bird. It will peek its small head up, eyes on the side of its head checking its surroundings, before it returns to preening its feathers in an effort to comfort itself. 

“Where is she?” Ochako asks again, voice stern and a bit more audible than the last. Her throat hurts, but it does not matter. Nothing matters right now more than his answer. 

Ochako’s mother fists the blanket, tears dripping down her cheeks as she looks at her daughter with puffy, reddened eyes. 

“Does it matter? She’s the one who did this to you. Ochako, please. I should never have let you go. I would have rather lived the rest of my life slaving away than for any of this to have happened,” she sobs, and her legs give out beneath her. Mr. Uraraka falls to his knees to support his wife, but he remains silent. Ochako can feel her nose sting, but she knows she has no tears to cry. She’s dehydrated, tired, and an utter husk of herself. She has no idea where her friends are or what happened to them. Neither does she know the time or the after effects of all that occurred. So much was at stake. Her mother’s grief was palpable and valid. Ochako knew that. She understood that grief, and that was why the only thing on her mind when she woke up was the girl she saved and who saved her in turn. 

Her grip on Mr. Aizawa softened, and she pulled away, eyes glossy as she looked at the blanket over her body. Her hands trembled as she moved them, and softly she pulled the blanket off her, her hands weighed down by the amount of tubes and needles sticking into her. She brushed away the thin gown from over her stomach, and she stared long and hard at the lightly colored scar that sat just above her belly button. Her fingers traced the already healed scar, and Ochako’s mind slowly began to catch up. If this wound was already healed, then how long has it been? 

She kept her head down, and she released a soft blow of air from pursed lips that shook with an incoming sob. 

“Alive?” she questioned, voice cracking and unable to form more than a few words at a time. She waited, her ears perked up for any sort of answer. 

Aizawa rested his hand atop hers, and Ochako could feel their roughness. “Yeah.” 

With that simple response, Ochako collapsed back into the bed, and her fatigue continued to dig its talons into her. She slips back into unconsciousness. Back into that blissful dream. But this time, she sleeps with the knowledge that Himiko is alive. She’ll worry about everything else in due time. 

—

Sunlight seeps through the windows, dust dancing in the spots of light. Ochako sits on a brown leather couch, a feeding tube parked beside her. Her body needs to get used to eating again, so for now everything she needs is in the form of weird liquids delivered through tubes. The tube was the worst of her worries. She had to practice walking again, speaking was a bit difficult but gradually got better as the days passed, and now she had to process through a trauma so wracking that she had no idea what to do with herself. But, she was not alone. 

“I’m glad you’re okay,” Izuku says, and the rest of the class hums in agreement. Most of them are also in pretty bad shape, with sunken eyes and various medical equipment tied to them. Harsh burns, jagged scars, internal bruises and broken everything. Physically they were slowly healing, but mentally their minds were a mess. 

Ochako nods, fingers intertwined and set on her lap. There is so much she wants to ask. So many thoughts and questions that she is unsure how to word. 

“What happened?” is what she settles on, and though it had been a few days since she first woke up, she still had no idea what went on during the time she was unconscious–which was apparently bordering on a month. In the past few days, she had dedicated herself to getting used to being awake again, much to her parents’ insistence. As well as her own desire to get to the bottom of things. 

Everyone shifts uncomfortably, minds boggled with the weight of the world and a war that shook it to its core. A war they fought and won at costs that were far too grave. 

“A lot of shit,” spits Katsuki, and Ochako is grateful that despite the harsh scar over his heart, he remains mostly the same. Though he is quieter than before with a far away look in his eye that Ochako understands all too well. 

“Hah, yeah. We ‘won’, but now we have a lot more problems to deal with,” Eijiro sighs, hand rubbing through his spiked hair, and Ochako notices his black roots growing through.

“It’s like we opened a box that spilled over all the world’s dirty secrets,” croaked Tsuyu, and the air filled with a thick somberness. 

The class continued on, going into detail about the events that unraveled after Ochako and Himiko’s battle. The defeat of All for One. All Might nearly dying, though the old man lives on with some very strict medical instructions; he’s wheelchair bound and on a soft-food diet now. The League of Villains regressed one by one, eventually losing all will and power to continue on at the defeat of AFO. They were arrested and locked up, and despite a lot of people being glad due to all the damage and loss that they caused, there’s also been a lot of backlash on if that is the best course of action. The fights were caught on camera, and many pointed out how devastating it all was. That though there was no way all the pain the villains caused could be validated, that at the end of the day they were still pushed to such means by a society that failed them. That it could have been anyone. Reporters loitered outside the hospital too, trying to interview the students who fought one on one with the so-called “tragic villains” and Ochako silently agreed with the title. She knew her friends did too. What society pushes people into villainy, and then casts those problems onto the backs of its children? A horribly twisted one, is what. 

“Where are they anyways?” Ochako mutters, glancing from one face to the other. Izuku winces once her eyes land on him and she knows he knows. Her eyes remain on him for a few seconds longer, and eventually he gives. Mostly because he has been there, or well tried to, for reasons almost as selfish as Ochako’s. 

“They’re at the lowest level. Guarded. It’s more of a prison than a hospital. The hero commision has its lackeys around the place. They make things so difficult,” the freckled boy groans, a scarred hand ruffling through his hair and Denki places a firm hand on his shoulder. 

“And Himiko?” she asks, voice almost inaudible but Kyoka hears her, and her fingers loop around her remaining ear jack.

“She’s ok. At least from what I heard Vlad King say. He’s the one who came to our rescue,” Kyoka explained and Tsuyu nodded. Kyoka went on about how all seemed lost once Himiko began that blood transfusion, but Fumikage was struck with the idea to bring Vlad King over, praying for that speck of hope to blossom into more.

Vlad King’s quirk, Blood Control, makes him unaffected by abnormal blood loss. Once he saw what Himiko was trying to do, he sprung into action. Sure that Ochako was doing well with Himiko’s sacrifice, he then fed Himiko his own blood and her last drop of consciousness caused her to turn into him. With that, he began another blood transfusion, giving her his own blood that her body readily accepted. They had to rush the three of them to a hospital immediately due to the risk of infection and the absolute nightmare that was the makeshift transfusions. Nonetheless, Himiko survived. But now, she was imprisoned and likely once again forced into a mold. Ochako already understood that there was no way she could excuse the senseless killings and destruction Himiko caused. And yet, she also could not call herself a hero if she did not offer her a chance; one that was long overdue. 

They still had to talk about love. 

Mr. Aizawa limps into the lounge room, feet screeching against the floor with his new and improved prosthetic leg. The other one had been destroyed in the final battle, and this one was much lighter than the last, making him look a bit disoriented with each step. 

Ochako brings herself to her feet, knees gooey but she walks towards Aizawa, wheeling her feeding tube alongside her. 

“Mr. Aizawa,” she begins, voice as stable as she can muster and her eyes stare straight ahead. The tired man meets her gaze, and smiles. The expression surprises Ochako for a moment, but she draws a breath to speak once more. Aizawa stops her. 

“I know. That’s why I’m here,” he says, and everyone looks to each other and then to Aizawa with their mouths agape. 

“The commission can screw themselves. You’re the ones who had to bear the weight of this world’s mistakes. I’m not going to force you to do anything, but if you want to step up to those cowards in suits, then get up and follow me.” Anger laces every word that Aizawa spews, and everyone can relate to that rage and to who and what it’s targeted towards. There are a few exchanged looks, and then everyone is scrambling to their feet and shuffling to the door. 

“All Might?” Katuski and Izuku say in unison, and the old man chuckles softly, his hands on the little controls of his wheelchair. 

“You youngsters truly hold the souls of heroes,” the man smiles, and a warmth spreads through everyone’s hearts. They were glad he was alive. They grieved so many losses. They saw things that adults could barely process, and yet they continued on. It was a simple sentence, and yet it felt like a tender hand patting their heads. They were still children, afterall. Just children. 

A few words of greetings are exchanged, and maybe a few tearful ones as the group follows behind Mr. Aizawa towards those who were shunned. Ochako steps with purpose, and her scar aches. She will see her soon. 

—

The elevator dings, and everyone steps out from its large area into a dark hall. At the end of it is a black metal door, with two guards standing armed. Aizawa and All Might show their IDs, but the men refuse them entry. There’s a bit of a heated quarrel, and by the end of it the guards are muttering something into their earpieces. Ochako has seen Mr. Aizawa get angry before, but this was a new record. He was grinding his teeth, fingers digging into his forearms as he stared down the men. He looked this close to ripping them a new one with his prosthetic leg. They shriveled into themselves from his leer, hiding behind their shades. A few moments passed before Yokumiru Mera opened the metal door, stepping from inside and meeting the group. His blonde hair was disheveled, eye bags almost resembling Mr. Aizawa’s. 

“You want to talk to the villains who practically destroyed Japan?” Mera asked, pinching the bridge of his nose as he spoke. 

“Yes,” everyone said in unison, voices solid despite all their wounds; internal or otherwise. 

“Stuffing them into boxes does nothing but repeat the cycle,” Shouto began, stepping forth. His eyes burned with a determination obtained after having to fight his own elder brother that had been lost to the cruelty of this world. 

“So you want us to let them roam freely? You kids need to go back to your hospital beds,” Mera says flatly, beginning to turn around. Instead, Hanta wraps him in his tape, effectively rendering him immobile. This earns the alertness of the guards, and their hands reach for their weapons. 

“You’ll point your weapons at children who ended this war? A war fueled by ideals like yours that ruined everything,” Momo grits her teeth, her voice stern as she stares them down. The guards falter, looking to each other and then to the commission head for aid. Mera waves them off, and they lower their hands. 

Mera clears his throat, and his gaze falls to each student. They do not flinch away, but meet his gaze coldly. A man in a suit wasn’t going to intimidate them. Not after what they’ve been through.

Ochako steps forward, her breath ragged as she does. It is still hard to move, and she grips onto her moving feeding tube until her knuckles turn white. 

“We know what they did is inexcusable. We fought them firsthand and have witnessessed all the destruction and agony they caused. Their acts are unforgivable…but…but what’s more unforgivable is what pushed them to that point. A society that shoves all its ‘ugly’ away and tries to make it seem that the world is black and white like some comic book. But nothing is ever that simple. We aren’t asking you to let them free with no consequences, neither are we asking all the people they hurt to forgive them. But, this world should hold some responsibility over what it created. If our society was more accepting. If it didn’t force people into curated molds. If it didn’t paint some quirks as undesirable, then maybe none of this would have happened. But it did. And everyone has to live with that. We have to live with that,” she fumed, her hand motioning towards her friends and teachers who stood there with the after-effects of battles and a war they should not have been a part of, but were forced into. 

“What is it you propose then?” Mera crosses his arms, and holds his head high. 

“There isn’t a miracle cure for all this. But we can start with small things. A change in quirk counseling. More awareness of quirk discrimination and efforts to counter it,” Mezo offered, and Ochako felt a sense of pride well in her at seeing her fellow classmate stand beside her, his face confidently shown. 

“Right now, we can just talk. Because all they ever needed was someone to sit with them and understand,” Iida explains, and his blue eyes shine with benevolence and the memory of seeing Shouto and Dabi fight it nearly to the death, with the latter regressing into a child as he fought his entire family.

Ochako puffs her chest up, and she stares straight at Mera. “And I’ll be glad to be the first. With Himiko Toga. Let me speak to her.” 

Mera’s eyes narrow as he looks the girl up and down with scrutiny. 

“The girl who did this to you? You want to go to her of all people?” he questions, and Ochako does not back down. 

“She did what she thought she had to do. Then we spoke, and she realized her mistake. She almost killed herself to fix that mistake. She deserves another chance. A fresh start. And I’ll be that fresh start. I take full responsibility for her. Even if it means being cuffed to her for the rest of my life.” Ochako means every word, determination emanating from her like sunlight. 

A guttural laugh emerges from Mera, and he keels over in a fit of giggles. Everyone is stunned into a confused silence, even his guards. Mera continued to laugh, snorting a few times and sniffling as he wiped at his tears. Ochako blinks dryly at him, mouth opening and closing a few times, unsure what to say. 

Mera finally sighs, and straightens himself up. His eyes land on Ochako and he grins. “Alright kid. That’s a big promise you’re making there. Can you keep it?” 

Ochako nods, a bit confused but still clinging to her every word. Mera chuckles a bit more, and motions for the guards to open the door. It creaks open, the bright light from inside illuminating the halls. 

“My predecessors were not the best of people, and I have seen what happens when you force doors shut. I was curious what you kids would do after all this. What your opinions on everything would be. I’m glad that you are our future,” Mera revealed, stepping to the side and inviting everyone inside. “Come in. But know that once you do, there’s no going back.” 

Everyone immediately begins to step forward, Ochako leading the bunch. As Aizawa and All Might follow behind, Mera bends down to whisper to them. 

“You’ve guided a strong bunch.” The teachers smile as they watch their students walk ahead, and for a moment it is as if they see a glimpse of their future. And it is bright. 

—

Himiko is lying down on a pristine white hospital bed, bandages wrapped around her arms. Her eyes are mindlessly staring at the ceiling, and when the door opens she does not bother to glance over. It would be another check-up with a nurse or doctor who looked afraid to touch her despite being surrounded by an army of guards. Or some counselor trying to speak to her as if she could explain to them what she felt. Like they could understand her like Ochako had. In her heart, Himiko was already dead. She knew this was how it would be; trapped in a cage and made to pay for what she did. She had to make up for her mistakes, yet it still hurt when people’s eyes were filled with such hatred towards her. Maybe that brief moment with Ochako had melted away her previous hostility towards others. But, she could no longer see Ochako and no one would answer her when she asked about her. Was she okay? Did she forgive her? Himiko covered her head with her pillow, pissed at whoever was once again in the room ready to poke and prod her. She could feel their presence, and it only increased her rage at who was just standing there watching her. Their heavy breaths were obvious and she pushed the pillow harder against her face. 

Then there was a hand on her arm, and Himiko sprung up and pulled back. The pillow fell off the bed, and Himiko grinded her teeth as she looked at the fallen pillow then to whoever touched her. 

Her breath was stolen from her, and her eyes softened and shimmered like the coziness of a candle’s orange flame. Eyes dilated, she took in Ochako’s figure before her as if it was only a figment of her imagination that would soon disperse like a melting snowflake. 

“Hi,” whispered Ochako, a sheepish grin across her face. Himiko felt her skin prickle with goosebumps, and soon her eyes burned with tears. Her eyes resembled round dew drops on a waxy leaf’s surface, bouncing about until they drip and split into smaller drops.

“Hey,” Himiko replied, and her tears began to spill beyond her control. She remained frozen in place, hot tears dripping down her cheek and hanging at the edge of her chin. Ochako reached forward, fingers trembling as they landed upon Himiko’s soft face and wiped her tears away. The brunette squeezed onto the bed, letting the wheeled pole stand still, as both her hands came to cup the blonde’s face, thumbs gingerly wiping at her tears. The action only made Himiko sob harder, until her whole body shook. Ochako held her face through it, her eyes smiling ever so sweetly at her. 

“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry, Ochako,” she cried, sniffling and blinking away fat drops of salty tears. 

Ochako shook her head side to side, feeling her nose burn with the signal of incoming crying. “I’m okay. You made it up to me. You made it up more than you should’ve, Himiko. We’re okay. We’re okay now,” Ochako said, lips trembling and sucking in labored breaths. Her forehead came to rest against Himiko’s own, as their noses touched. Himiko could feel the cold touch of the tube taped by Ochako’s nose, and guilt panged through her. They remained in that position for a bit, silent tears accompanying choked wails. 

“How are you here?” Himiko asked, lashes clumped together and wet. From Himiko’s understanding, she had to pay for what she did. And that meant captivity, likely for the rest of her life. She was starting to accept it with each passing day, but seeing Ochako made her question if she could ever truly remain alone like that. 

“We’re going to fix how things are, Himiko. From today forth, this world will treat you better. And I promised I was going to stand by your side against it all. Because you’re my friend,” Ochako said, her arms wrapping around Himiko’s neck as she embraced her, head resting against her shoulder. Himiko eased into her touch, her tears wetting Ochako’s hospital gown. She did not fully understand, but she knew that Ochako would never mean any harm. So she let herself be held by her, her entire body being comforted by the warmth of Ochako’s hug and the beating of  her heart. 

“Friends,” Himiko repeated, arms sliding beneath Ochako’s arms, hands resting against her shoulder blades and holding her closer. “I’d like that.” 

—

“Ochako? Dear, what?” Mrs. Uraraka asks, face drained of color as she looks down at the red blinking light on the bracelet chained to Ochako’s leg; a matching one to Himiko’s. There had  been conditions on allowing Himiko to walk about alongside Ochako, and these chains that would alert the commission in case of an emergency and paralyze the wearer, were one of them. They were supposed to be worn only by Himiko, but Ochako did not stand for it and insisted she wear one too, not wanting Himiko to feel anything less-than; she’s been through enough as it is. 

“I said we’re friends, mom. I’m helping Himiko navigate her way through this world and making it better for her. To do that, I’m going to be with her all the time,” Ochako explains, hand tightly holding Himiko’s own hand and keeping her close to her side. The blonde’s cheeks fill with blood, and she smiles nervously. 

“But, Ochako….she…Honey, say something,” her mother stammers, looking to her husband for support. His face is grim and he avoids eye contact with Himiko, instead focusing on Ochako. 

“Can we talk in private?” he asks, and he rests a hand across Mrs. Uraraka’s shoulders. Ochako is about to protest, but Himiko squeezes her hand for a moment and slips her hand away. 

“It’s ok. I’ll wait outside,” she whispers, giving Ochako an understanding smile as she turns for the door. Ochako wants to reach for her and pull her back, but she worries what her parents are going to say would not be the kind of words she wants Himiko to hear. So she nods, and lets her empty hand fall to her side. As the door shuts, her parents shuffle towards her hospital bed and pat it for Ochako to come and sit. She reluctantly walks over, dragging her feeding tube along and settling onto the thin mattress. Her parents sit at the edge of the bed, looking solemnly into her eyes. 

“Ochako,” her father begins, hands massaging his temples. “I understand that this is because of your desire to become a hero. And, after all of the horrors that occurred, your mother and I, and the entirety of Japan acknowledges you and your friends as so. But, to…to stick side to side with the villain who…” 

“Her name is Himiko,” Ochako interjects coldly. 

“Right. Himiko. Well, she hurt you. You know that more than anyone. Can you understand why your mother and I are concerned?” he asked, voice steady and hushed. Ochako’s fingers wrinkle the blanket beneath her grasp. She gets it. She was the one who went through it. She understands more than anyone what this decision means and how crazy it looks. Yet, she felt fury bubble at her father’s words. She only grunts in response. 

“She nearly killed you, Ochako. How can I trust someone who almost killed my child?” her mother questions, tears pricking her eyes but she tries to keep them away. Ochako’s face reddens with red hot rage. 

“You think I don’t know that? I know. I was there. And because I was there, I know that she did what she felt she needed to to protect herself. And I get it seeing how everyone is treating her exactly how she expected them to. Like some monster,” Ochako scoffs, and she feels guilt settle into her ribcage at how she once treated Himiko. But never again. She understood now, even if surface level. She would try harder and do better for Himiko. For all those hurt by this society. 

“She is!” her mother screeched, and Mr. Uraraka had to grip onto her hands to calm her down. 

The veins in Ochako’s forehead seem to burst as she screams. “ She’s a child! She’s seventeen! She could have been me!” 

Ochako’s parents are struck into silence, eyes wide and unblinking as if the girl had just revealed a tightly kept secret. But it was no secret that Himiko was just a teenager, a year older than Ochako. 

“She could have been me,” Ochako says again, this time quieter. “The only reason this happened was because she was born with a quirk that her parents demonized. As a little kid, she had to hide herself away because she thought existing was wrong. And that could have been anyone struck with a quirk that goes against the designated norm. Would you have abandoned me if I was born with her quirk instead?”

“Of course not!” Both her parents jump to say, brows furrowed and gazes softening. 

Ochako sighs, and blinks quickly to try and stop herself from crying. “That’s because I was lucky to have parents who love me no matter what. Give Himiko the chance her parents didn’t.” 

The Urarakas are silent, eyes set on the rings around their fingers. They look back at Ochako with a weak smile. 

“Alright. You’re the hero,” her father says, and he reaches to ruffle Ochako’s hair, messing up her grown out bangs. Her mother nods meekly, and Ochako can see the trail of a tear streaked across her cheek. 

Ochako’s father gets up towards the door, and after a few minutes he walks back in with Himiko on his tail. He guides her towards Ochako’s bed, inviting her to sit at its edge. Mrs. Uraraka gets up, eyes set on Himiko. Ochako braces for whatever her mother is about to say, and she prays it is good. 

Her mother bows deeply, hair dangling in brown tufts as she faces Himiko. The girl is confused, looking at Ochako who carries the same shock-stricken expression. 

“I’m sorry. For being hasty in judging you. I owe you my gratitude for saving Ochako. I should have said that from the beginning,” she said, seriousness evident in her voice. Himiko waves her hands in front of her face, denying the thanks. 

“No, no, I was the one who-” 

“Who saved Ochako. And who inspired her to try and fix a society that makes its people turn their backs on children. Thank you,” Mr. Uraraka said, and his hand rested atop Himiko’s head gently and the child froze. Care from a parental figure was unfamiliar, and she had no idea how to react to someone thanking her. So she just sat there and let it happen, a faint blush streaking across her features. Mrs. Uraraka sits back on the bed, and her arms wrap around Himiko and Ochako, pulling their heads beneath her chin as she gently rubs their backs. Mr. Uraraka joins her, and the two girls are cocooned in a large embrace.

“You did well,” Ochako’s mother says, planting a soft kiss atop each girl’s head. When Himiko begins to tremble with badly muffled wails, the parents only tighten the hug and stroke the girl’s back tenderly. 

Their daughter was right. She was just a young child left to fend for herself in a world that had it against her. And to think their teenage daughter had to snap some sense into their fully developed brains. They were ordinary citizens, who long relied on heroes to help them. But, their daughter was the hero in this case. And they would be damned if they let their little girl carry the weight of the world on her shoulders for a second time. Or if they were to fall into society’s stereotypical check boxes and paint a child as a villain. If Ochako was trying to make things better, then they would be the first ones to be influenced by her. 

And it would begin in this hospital bed, hugging things out. 

—

Ten Years Later

—

“Are you alright?” Himiko asks, and the child before the blonde grabs onto her pained ankle, cheeks stained with tears as she sobs. 

“It hurts,” she says, and Himiko notices the growing bump on her ankle. It must be twisted. Himiko sighs in relief that it isn’t worse considering the intensity of the recent earthquake. Heroes were dispatched, rescue efforts still ongoing as rubble is removed and people found and sent off to hospitals. Himiko was there under Recovery Girl’s tutelage, in addition to Ochako’s partner on missions. 

“Here, this won’t hurt a bit,” the blonde says with a smile, and for a moment her face becomes covered in wrinkles as she leaves a gentle kiss on the little girl’s ankle. “Better?” 

The child moves her ankle about, and her eyes go wide with awe as she realizes her ankle no longer hurts. “Thank you,” she beams, and Himiko pats her head and pulls her into her arms. 

“Let’s get you somewhere safer, hm?” Himiko says as she walks over to the ambulance car, setting the girl inside where Recovery Girl is busy kissing minor injuries away, and watching over citizens who are a bit more hurt. 

The child waves at her, and Himiko runs back onto the scene, body morphing into familiar padded fingers and bouncy brown hair. She touches various fallen walls and concrete, watching them float towards the sky. A long tongue wraps around the rubble, and pulls it towards an already growing pile. 

“You’ve got a lot of energy today, Himiko,” Tsuyu said, hopping to grab at more floating rubble that Ochako had also set tumbling into the sky. 

“I’m just glad I can help, Froppy!” she replies, half her face returning to normal, her natural smile poking through. 

Himiko had grown accustomed to this new life, and with it, she could freely be herself without holding back her urges. It had taken a bit of effort, as well as some lessons on consent on her part. She still loved turning into people, but due to Ochako’s influence, she had some to the conclusion that it was best to ask for a vial of blood instead of sticking her needles into people and sucking their blood from them. Not that Himiko was odd for wanting the blood, but because it belonged to someone else who had to decide whether or not they would be comfortable with someone having a hold of a part of them and furthermore, turning into them. It was hard for Himiko to quiet down at first, but once she would compose herself and explain why she just loved blood so much, the rest of the former class 1-A had gradually grown comfortable with donating a bit of their blood to her. It was like being at a blood drive, and with it came Himiko’s satisfaction as well as an interesting display of power. Mr. Aizawa had recommended Himiko to work under Recovery Girl, sure her ability to transform into other people could prove helpful medically. It also allowed her time to study her friend’s quirks, and with it, she became accustomed to going out on missions as an additional helping hand. Rescue missions were her forte. 

Since then, years had passed, and she and Ochako often went out on missions together. The class 1-A alumni had formed a hero agency of their own, dedicated to saving people in more than just defeating the so-called villains. They provided captured criminals a chance at rehabilitation, and oftentimes than not, their efforts proved fruitful. There was always the odd rotten apple that simply wished to hurt for no other reason than the act. But, mostly, there were hurt people beneath those facades of villainy. And the Plus Ultra Agency did what it could to help. The name had been decided from a unanimous vote, and Izuku’s chosen name had won. The runner ups were Destruction Gang and Twinkling Toes, virtue of Great Explosion Murder God Dynamight and Can’t Stop Twinkling. Ochako had admitted she was thankful Izuku had won, because if she went around telling people she was a part of the Destruction Gang (a horrible name for a supposed hero agency) and Twinkling Toes, then she would have quit her job and worked retail. “Welcome to Spencer’s!” Himiko had laughed, saying she would just become the breadwinner, and Ochako had smiled at the idea of staying home and letting her roommate and best friend go to work for her. 

The rescue wraps up with the sun setting, glowing embers of rustic orange streaking through the skies as the heroes do one last check, ensuring no one remains beneath the rubble. Mezo’s ears are spread every which way and Kyoka’s amplified ear jack is stuck to the ground, feeling for any movement. Positive that all is well, the group packs up, handing the torch to construction workers ready to patch up what had been broken. Himiko notices Cementoss in the group, and she waves to him before piling into the designated agency van. 

“Are we still on for dinner?” Denki asks, and a bubbling noise ruptures the otherwise quiet air of the van. Rikido’s ears burn as he clutches his stomach, trying to shrink away but his muscular body is not something one can hide so easily. 

“That’s a ‘yes,’ huh, buddy?” Hanta smirks, front teeth bearing as he smacks the man’s back playfully. The van erupts in hearty laughter, large smiles plastered across everyone’s faces, despite the sweat and grime from a harsh day’s work. 

“Can yall shut the fuck up? Unless you want me to crash this van,” Katsuki hisses, crimson eyes glaring daggers at the group from the rearview mirror. He’s gritting his teeth, both hands gripping onto the wheel like it’s life and death. 

“I told you I could drive instead, Kacchan. Everyone knows you get nervous when you drive,” Izuku said sweetly, and Katuski’s face only burned redder than his eyes. 

“I do not,” he insisted, nails digging into the rubber, leaving deep indents on the wheel as he checked the side mirrors for the thousandth time. 

Denki wrapped his arms around himself, wiggling from side to side as if he was fondling someone. “Poor Kacchan doesn’t want his husband’s hand to hurt from driving all day. Aww,” he said, making wet kissy noises and earning giggles from the group. Katsuki wanted to turn around and pummel him to the ground, but he was much too focused on the road ahead. So he bit his lip and endured. For now. 

Izuku flicked Denki’s forehead, though his freckled face glowed a not-so-subtle pink. Himiko’s gaze fell to Ochako, who laughed merrily along at the boys’ antics. She smiled watching her, then returned her attention back to the group. 

“Could you drop us off at home, Katsuki? It’s on the way,” Ochako called out to the angry blonde, and he clicked his tongue at her. He knew “us” meant Ochako and Himiko, and it took everything in him not to spit out some snarky comment on how the two of them are so sappy, but he knew someone would say something about him and Deku. And he hated when everyone brought up that damned story . 

“So I’m your personal taxi now?” he barked instead, but Ochako knew he was still going to listen. He just loved being petty first. 

Himiko felt eyes on her, though nothing malicious. Yet, they somehow felt worse than plain hostility. It was Momo and Kyoka, looking at each other and then back to Himiko and Ochako. They said nothing, but only smiled menacingly. Himiko glanced to see if Ochako noticed, but she was busy looking at her front camera and failing at fixing her messed up hair. Himiko was always quick to notice when someone was staring at her, and two years ago when Momo and Kyoka had announced finally getting married, she realized that they had begun staring at her and Ochako a bit too often. She never made a move to ask them, mostly because they were too quick to look away. And because she had no idea what she would even say. So she kept quiet, and tried to ignore it. 

“You know where the restaurant is, right?” Tenya called out from the passenger seat, head sticking out of the window, and Ochako threw him a thumbs up, her other hand reaching for her keys from the bunch of pockets she had. Tenya smiled at her, but quickly frowned once he felt Katsuki grab his armored back and haul his head back inside.

“Never stick your head out of a car window, class president,” he huffed, ready to start moving again. 

“That’s if it’s moving. You’re parked right now,” Tenya protested, but Katuski gave him no chance to continue, swerving back on the road and yelling something about buckling in. The two girls snorted as they watched the vehicle grow smaller in the distance. 

“So glad I’m no longer in that car,” Ochako sighed in relief, keys dangling from her fingers. Himiko hummed, skipping towards the entrance of their house. As Ochako pushed the door open, mellow meows filled the air. 

“My babies!” Himiko purred, falling to her knees and opening her arms as she brought the furry beasts to her face, rubbing her cheeks against their whiskers. The golden-orange tabby melted into her touch, the tuxedo meowing hysterically, and the calico’s long body dangled lazily. 

“Himiko, Sir Whiskers is going to scratch you again,” Ochako scolded, stepping through the jumbled mess of furry bodies and blonde buns, and towards the kitchen to grab at the cat food. 

“It’s his way of saying he loves me,” she insisted, and the black and white cat hissed as she pulled him closer into her. 

“No, it’s his way of saying ‘feed me or I’ll kill you,’” Ochako said, opening a can of cat food, and all three pairs of their ears perked up at the sound. They all slipped through Himiko’s grasp like oobleck, and dashed to Ochako’s feet for dinner. The blonde sat on the floor, devastated at their immediate forsaking of her. 

The orange cat kept trying to jump at the counter, but as per usual, it slipped to the floor with a dull thud only to try again. Ochako wondered how the hell that dumb creature survived in the wild before Himiko had come home with it in her arms like a pleading child, begging to keep it. The answer was going to be a hard and absolute no, but Ochako found it so difficult to deny Himiko. So that night, she had called up her high school teacher who begrudgingly answered the phone, voice hoarse with one of his deep sleeps. At the mention of the word “cat,” the stoic man’s voice noticeably grew higher in pitch from excitement, and he began to lecture Ochako on the dos and don'ts of cat ownership. She felt like she was back in class, but Himiko's smile was enough reimbursement for her. 

“Poohbear, come to mommy, hmm? Psspsspsss,” pleaded Himiko, patting her thighs, but the orange cat ignored her, adamant on trying to jump over to the counter. He only stopped once Ochako had brought their food to their little raised bowls. 

“Cookiedough?” she tried, eyes expectantly set on the calico. She gave Himiko a sideways glance, before trotting over to her food. 

The blonde slumped over, dramatically splayed over on the ceramic tiles as Ochako walked over her and towards the bathroom. “Et tu, Brute?” she sobbed. 

“Stop your Julius Caesar reenactment, and clean up. We have a dinner to get ready for,” Ochako reminded her, and Himiko peeled herself off the cold floor. 

“Will you wash my hair for me?” the girl said with a toothy grin, and Ochako creaked the bathroom door open. 

“If you hurry up and come in, then sure,” the brunette said, stepping into her bathroom slippers as she flipped the lights on. She could hear Himiko scramble off the floor like one of their cats and dash towards the bathroom. 

It was not unnatural for the two to bathe together. Ever since they moved in together four years ago, and both worked to buy the house they currently lived in, everything they did was much like an old married couple. Except they were not married. Or a couple. 

They were friends, of course. Very close friends. They continued their education together– Ochako glued to Himiko’s side and vice versa–worked together, lived together, cooked, did the chores, and even slept in the same bed. Even if the house was abnormally large, and had two spare rooms. What was bathing together, but an addition to their long list of friendly activities? They simply were that close. Such was the nature of their relationship, budding from that day ten years ago. When Ochako had sworn to give Himiko her blood for the rest of her life–tears streaming down her face, cuts across her cheeks, and an open stab wound weighing her down– Himiko had felt the cogs in her soul start turning. Ochako had reached out to hold onto Himiko at that moment, even if her body ached with injuries that slowly preyed on her life, and when Himiko let herself be held, she had promised herself to never let go of this warmth. Because this world was all the more gentle with Ochako in it. 

The sound of the shower handle turning echoed throughout the white marble tiles, and Ochako reached for the showerhead. Himiko took her seat on the stool, bare feet reflected on the smooth clean ground beneath her. The glass window leading into their private yard usually allowed the sun’s light to penetrate through and bounce around the reflective surfaces. But, at the moment, all Himiko could see was the stark black sky. She grew lost in thought, hair unfurled around her neck like silk. 

A sudden splash of warm water shocked her back to reality, as Ochako aimed the showerhead at Himiko, smiling as the water clung to the blonde’s hair. 

“You scared me,” Himiko pouted, eyes falling over Ochako’s figure. They have seen each other like this often, and though it made Himiko’s ears burn from admiring the curves and soft glow of Ochako’s skin, she never let her thoughts go farther than mere admiration. 

“You asked me to wash your hair. That’s what I’m doing,” Ochako chuckled, and she handed Himiko the showerhead, turning to grab the white shower basket filled with the two girl’s shampoo, conditioner, and bodywash. Himiko grumbled to herself, pulling her bangs away from her face as she waited for Ochako. 

She squeezed a generous amount of lily scented shampoo in her hands, rubbing it between her hands as she began to gingerly massage Himiko’s scalp. Her fingers in Himiko’s hair was like the feeling of a cozy rainy day, hearing raindrops pitter patter against the window, as one holds a warm cup of tea. Ochako’s hands were soothing, materialized comfort. Soap suds began to form, and Ochako extended her arm from behind Himiko. The blonde handed her the showerhead wordlessly, and shut her eyes as Ochako washed away the lather. Ochako’s fingers softly pulled Himiko’s hair behind her ear, gathering all the loose strands to the back of her head as she began to apply the conditioner. She combed her fingers through her hair, watching the girl’s locks shine from the moisture. Ochako often played with Himiko’s hair, looping golden strands around her fingers mindlessly as they slept. It comforted her to know that Himiko was so close, and as she roamed her hands through her friend’s hair, she felt like she had dipped her hand into silk made of molten star glitter. Himiko was Ochako’s very own starry sky. 

“There we go,” Ochako smiled, admiring her handiwork as she shut the showerhead and began to shampoo and condition her own hair rapidly before reaching for the loofas. She handed one to Himiko as she pulled the body wash out and took her own place on a stool in front of the girl. 

Ochako pressed an oozing dollop on both their loofas, lathering the soap up before beginning to scrub away at her dirtied body. Himiko did the same, and the two cleansed their bodies vigorously as the bathroom became filled with the sweet scent of lillies and a comfortable silence. 

Himiko’s eyes fell to the scar on Ochako’s abdomen, and though she knew it had long healed, everytime she looked at it she felt herself grow cold with guilt. Even if Ochako made it excruciatingly clear that she harbored no ill feelings whatsoever towards her. The jagged mark forever etched into her skin stood as an ill reminder of Himiko’s grave mistake, even if a decade had passed since. She got to her feet, taking hold of the showerhead and walking over to reattach it. She turned the handle, stilling as the hot water flowed down her body like a roaring current, washing away everything in its path. Himiko shut her eyes, and faced upwards towards the source of the water, letting it splash against her face directly. The warm drops rolled down her face, slipping down her body like a tender touch. 

“Miko,” whispered Ochako, and Himiko sputtered, flushing water out of her nose as she stepped away from the steady stream to look at Ochako. She smiled at the distracted blonde, cheeks pink from the steam, as she stepped towards Himiko and let the water run down her back, washing away the soap bubbles. She held her hand for Himiko to take, and when she did so, she pulled her towards her so that the both of them stood beneath the water. 

“You were looking at my scar again,” Ochako said, and her hands are on either side of Himiko’s waist, their warmth indistinguishable from the water that splattered across the girls’ bodies and dripped to the floor in growing ripples. 

Himiko felt a lump in her throat, and her head shot up to stare directly at Ochako. “You noticed?” 

“I always notice when you look at me,” she said, hand traveling up the outline of Himiko’s body and resting at the side of her ribcage. Her other hand grabbed Himiko’s wrist, thumb gently rubbing against her forearm. Himiko felt her breathing quicken with each touch, and she was not sure if the reason she felt so dazed was because of Ochako or because of the hot water. 

The round-faced girl brought Himiko’s hand towards herself, resting it against her scar. She pressed her hand over Himiko’s, firmly keeping the girl’s touch on her stomach. “It doesn’t hurt.” 

Himiko nodded, letting her hand relax against Ochako’s skin, the pads of her fingers taking in the texture of Ochako’s skin. The smoothness, the subtle goosebumps, the drops of water that trickled down; everything all at once. 

“Do you really not resent me?” Himiko mutters, and her voice is almost overshadowed by the steady splatter of water against the tiled floor. 

Ochako shakes her head no, and her face draws closer to Himiko, bodies pressed snuggly against each other. “Never.” 

Himiko chews on her lip, hard enough she almost draws blood, but Ochako’s thumb caressing the hand pressed against the other girl’s stomach snaps her out if it. 

“I don’t look at this and think negatively of you,” Ochako murmurs, referring to her scar. “Actually…I like it and maybe that’s weird. I don’t care though, because it makes me think of you. Regardless of what happened, that moment brought you to me. And I wouldn’t mind if I get stabbed again, if it’s you.” 

“Don’t say that,” Himiko whined, her free hand wiping away brown strands of hair that stick to Ochako’s forehead. The brunette giggled softly, beaming brightly at Himiko. 

“It’s true,” she smiled, eyes dripping with affection. “I’d do it all over again if it means we can be together like this.” 

Ochako draws closer, arms wrapping around Himiko, and she rests her head against the side of her neck. Himiko stiffens for a moment, but relents and does the same, smelling the radiating scent of the body wash from Ochako’s soft skin. 

“Me too,” Himiko hums, and everything feels right. The soft glow of the bathroom lights, the steam surrounding the girls, the lush scent of lillies, and the water that washes away their worries like the foam across their skin, spiralling slowly down the drain. 

—

“So then, I get down on one knee, right? Katuski is just scowling, teeth bared at me like some hound, and I almost fall over from fear. Then he starts yelling at me to get up cause he thinks I got weak knees or something. But you should have seen the look on his face when I pulled out the ring. His jaw just slacks and he freezes. At this point, I’m just afraid. Because Katuski being quiet is not normal,” Izuku said, voice cracking with incoming laughter as he recalled the story of his proposal to Katsuki. 

“Then, the dumbass starts sobbing!” Denki cackles, holding his stomach with each laugh. 

“I was so fucked being behind that bush, bro. Cause Katuski turns around trying to hide the fact he’s crying, and we make eye contact. I almost shat myself from fear when I saw him start to walk towards me,” Eijiro shivers, stabbing into the piece of steak in front of him. 

“Wait, I’ve got pictures,” Mina said, pulling up her phone and scrolling through. 

“Girl, we already saw. I think I have them printed out,” Yuga said casually, and Katsuki turned to glare at him. 

“Why the fuck?” he shouts, marinara sauce staining his lips. 

“Memories,” Yuga shrugs, and the group erupts into a fit of giggles save for Katsuki. His fist is clenched, about to smack down against Denki. One for laughing at him, and two for that earlier scene in the van. 

“Kacchan,” Izuku scolds, and the blonde huffs, staring daggers at Denki and everyone else before composing himself back into his seat. 

Ochako snorts at the scene, hand slapping across the lower half of her face as she watches eyes snap over to her. 

“You’ve got a lot of nerve laughing when you can’t even suck it up and pop the question. Even those two idiots did it already,” Katuski scoffed, pointing towards Kyoka and Momo who’s mouths fall open in hurt pride. 

“What question?” Ochako asked, brows furrowed as she looked across the table. 

Kyoka and Momo groan, and Katsuki rolls his eyes so hard that the whites of his eyes are the only thing visible for a long moment. 

“You can’t be serious,” Mina blurted, dark eyes set intently on the bubbly girl. 

“Haven’t you two been living together for a couple years now? You’re practically married,” Fumikage said, and Dark Shadow nodded along. 

“W-what? No, we’re just roommates. What are you guys on about?” Ochako flushes, and she feels sweat bead down her back. She was so glad Himiko stepped away to the bathroom. 

“The fact that the two of you are hopelessly in love,” Toru giggles, teal eyes sparkling with talk about romance. Ochako blanks, and her hands shakily reach for the glass of iced water in front of her, and she downs it in one sure gulp. 

She smacks the glass down on the table, hoping it had cooled her down. “Love? I don’t know about that.” 

“You’re a horrible liar,” Shoto says frankly, lips in a tight line across his face.

“Anyways, so how’s Toya been? Tenko?” Ochako looks to Shouto and Izuku, trying to change the topic as best she can. At least before Himiko comes back. 

“My brother’s fine. He works with Fuyumi. And Tenko’s a teaching assistant with Mr. Aizawa, apparently. But, how’s rooming with Himiko?” Shoto continued, not giving Ochako a chance at escaping this conversation. 

“Yeah, how is it?” emphasized Kyoka, sneering as she looked at Ochako. 

The brunette sighed deeply, fidgeting with the strap of her velvet peach-pink dress. Her feet slip in and out of her white heels, and she rests her hands on her lap before speaking. 

“It’s fine. She’s a good friend,” she said robotically. 

“Friend? Oh lord, you really are worse than the two of us,” Momo sighed, manicured hands rubbing her temples. 

“The lesbian curse,” added Kyoka, shaking her head sadly. 

“Damn, y’all didn’t even sleep together?” Mina asked, taking a bite of her chocolate cheesecake. “Not even once?” 

“We sleep together,” Ochako said, and Mina began to choke on her cake. 

“For real?!” 

“Yeah, the bed’s pretty big,” Ochako nodded, and the table jolted with the force of Mina smacking her head against it. 

“What else?” Katsuki asked, brows arched in question. 

Ochako did not like the look he gave her, but she continued nonetheless. “I mean, we do normal roommate stuff. Cooking, cleaning, sleeping, bathing-” 

“Bathing? You saw her naked? She saw you naked?” Koji nearly screeched, which was uncharacteristic of his usually demure personality. 

“You don’t have to say it like that,” the girl blushed, and she could not help remembering the feeling of Himiko’s soft skin against her own. 

“Is this what we acted like?” Kyoka asked, turning to the group and they all solemnly nodded. Kyoka and Momo gasped in mortification at having to see this absolute mess of slowburn unfold before them. 

“So, you don’t feel anything towards her? At all? No romance? You don’t want to be with her as something more than just friends?” Izuku spat question after question, and Ochako felt her heart throb. She grew silent, hands wrinkling her dress as she gripped onto it. 

“I can’t,” she said, biting her lip. 

“Why not? You love her don’t you? It’s painfully obvious,” Izuku continued, sitting at the edge of his seat as he spoke to Ochako. His habit of asking rapid-fire questions did not die out in high school. 

“It’s not that. It’s just…I don’t know.” Ochako’s mind grows drunk on thoughts of Himiko’s smile and laughter, and her stomach fills with a knotting anxiety. 

Katsuki stares at her, arms folded across his chest. His expression is unnaturally calm and gentle. 

“You’re scared,” he said, words falling like boulders atop Ochako’s shoulders. She flinched, and looked up at him with wide eyes. “You’re scared if you say anything now, that you’d lose everything you built up with her. Isn’t that right?” 

The mood took a solemn turn, and the table became hushed. Ochako swallowed thickly, licking her dry lips. Her eyes fell to the palm of her hands, and she sucked in a quick breath. 

“I have been by her side since that day. I helped her fight against the world’s prejudices and even now we’re still doing that. All of us have. It’s been years and we got close. Closer than I imagined. But I feel if I say anything. If I admit it. That she’ll think I took advantage of the situation. I worry she’ll think it’s a betrayal of our friendship.” Ochako’s voice trembles as she spills her heart out, and she feels a reassuring hand touch her shoulder. Tenya smiles at her. 

“Don’t you think it’ll be worse to let something so precious wither away because of a ‘what if?’ Won’t it be unfair to assume that Himiko would just let go of you after all you’ve been through?” he asks, and Ochako’s heart trips over itself. She nods once, hand tucking a lock of slightly damp hair behind her ear, and she decides what she has to do once her and Himiko were alone. 

The soft clack of heels makes everyone turn, and Himiko walks over, waving to the group with a bright smile. Everyone changes topics, mindful of Ochako despite their teasing. Dinner proceeds as usual, with lighthearted stories and jokes, and the ambient clacking of plates and soft music playing in the back. 

Himiko is stiff, and her hands are clammy. Though she tried to wash the feeling away with cold water after her time in the bathroom, it still had not faded away. Today had drained her of a lot of her stored blood, largely Ochako’s. She knew her friends would understand. But it still drove her insane how hard it was for her to keep this urge down. She tried drinking the donated vials she keeps on hand, but they did nothing but leave a bitter taste in her mouth. Usually, it was sweet. But, right now she had no desire to taste any of that blood, even if some of it belonged to her friends who she loved dearly. What she needed was Ochako’s blood.

 Fresh blood.

That was how Himiko usually got her blood from Ochako. Instead of regular procedures and stored blood bags and vials like with everyone else, Ochako offered Himiko her blood directly. She had done it at first as proof that she did not find Himiko scary, and since it has been the only way that Himiko gets her source of Ochako’s blood. It was warm and rich. And so very, very sweet. But, most importantly, it was Ochako’s. 

Himiko clenched her fists until they shook and her nails left deep crescent indents in her palms. She felt a hand slide across them from beneath the table, and her head turned to meet Ochako’s knowing gaze. Himiko tried to say something, but Ochako cut her off. 

“Sorry guys, we have to head home. I’m not feeling very well,” she said, holding onto Himiko’s hand as she got up from her chair. Himiko grew confused by why everyone simply accepted the fact without prying, but she had other things to worry about. Notably how Ochako’s touch only made her heart beat harder and harder. So she just followed behind, hand in hand with Ochako through the ride home and until they stepped foot into their home and climbed the stairs up to their open rooftop, lying on a cushioned couch beneath the night sky. 

“Here, Miko. Sorry it took so long,” Ochako said, extending her arm in offering. There was one spot that Himiko always drank from. It was a little bit below the inside of Ochako’s elbow. Her teeth were sharp enough to puncture the area just deep enough for a steady stream of blood that she could then bandage up quickly. Himiko held Ochako’s arm in her hands, her fingers delicately caressing the slightly bruised skin from the last time she had taken a drink. She brought Ochako’s arm close to her lips, and bared her teeth slightly. But she stopped, setting Ochako’s arm back to her side.

“Himiko?” Ochako breathed, lifting Himiko’s chin up so that she could take a look at her face. She was met with pensive golden eyes, and strained lips. “What’s wrong?” 

Himiko is quiet, searching for the right words to voice this desperate need that claws at her insides. She gulps and the noise is loud enough to hear. 

“Is it okay if I drank from somewhere else?” she heaved, cheeks dyed such a deep scarlet that Ochako wondered how much it must have hurt to try and suppress herself for all those years if she could barely hold herself together in this small moment.

“You can do whatever you want with me,” Ochako smiled reassuringly, holding her arms up in surrender. Himiko hesitated for a moment, but then her body began to pulsate with each pounding instinct and she could no longer hold herself back.

She climbed into Ochako’s lap, legs spiraled across either side of the blushing brunette’s waist, effectively straddling her. Her hot-to-the-touch hands slid across the side of Ochako’s neck, then she gently nudged her head to the side to gain better access to the skin of her neck. Ochako’s skin prickled up with goosebumps, and she felt every fine hair on her body stand on end at the sensation of Himiko’s warm breath and sharp teeth against her skin biting hard enough to draw blood. Yet, somehow, it was like the soft pecks of a bird that had once mistaken her hand for food and Ochako was glad she was sitting down, for her legs would have buckled beneath her had she not been. The mewls that escaped her lips were hard to control, and Ochako’s hands dug into Himiko’s back, pulling her closer. She wanted her to melt into her, like a drop of blood absorbed into the vast expanse of the ocean. She needed Himiko to flow through her, tangled and pulsating like a divine ichor. The satin scarlet dress that hugged Himiko’s body did not help with Ochako’s desperateness, her fingers slipping away clumsily.

“Mm…Miko, Miko, Miko ,” she chanted, drunk on the feeling of Himiko’s lips against the sensitive skin of her neck. This was nothing like the usual times. It felt far too good, and it made Ochako want to forget all her fears and do things friends wouldn’t do. But her thoughts were interrupted with Himiko pulling away, wet tongue licking at the bite mark she left and sending Ochako further down the edge. The blonde’s mouth was covered in Ochako’s blood, and it dripped down her chin as she smiled so widely, all four canines prominent and glowing in the moonlight. 

“Sorry. Did it hurt?” Himiko huffed, licking at the blood around her lips and Ochako felt like screaming until she could not move.

 “It didn’t hurt. It felt good. It felt amazing. Touch me. Touch me more.” Her thoughts pounded against the shackles of her brain, and like a stoic guard, her mouth clamped shut.

“Ochako?” the blonde asked, eyes brimming with worry as she gazed at the brown-eyed girl. 

Ochako’s thumb came to wipe at the blood budding from Himiko’s lips, staring intently at how it dyed her finger crimson. 

“I must’ve bitten my lip by accident,” Himiko said, her own fingers reaching to graze her split lip. She just craved Ochako’s blood so much that all her senses had become dulled, save for the one throbbing urge to taste Ochako on her lips. 

Ochako brought the blood covered finger to her mouth, lapping away at the drop. She savored it, letting the iron taste cover every taste bud until her body remembered it like how it remembered to pump blood through her very veins. 

Himiko’s breath caught in her throat at the scene, and she felt herself begin to salivate once more. She already had her fill, but this was something else. This was something she tried to pummel down and lock away for the past decade. And it was cracking away. 

The two girls were eyelevel, the glow of the moon shining on the black of their ever-dilating pupils. 

Ochako’s left hand finally took a firm hold of Himiko, pressing against her lower back and pulling her closer to her. Her eyes never left Himiko’s, and her free hand came to cup her cheek ever so softly. 

“I think I get it now, Miko. That feeling you always talked about,” Ochako rasped, chest pressed against Himiko’s own. Himiko’s breathing quickened, and she was sure Ochako could feel her heart beating. 

“Ochako,” she said, voice labored. 

“Wanting to be that person. Wanting to feel their body from the inside out. To consume their very essence. All you want is their every breath,” Ochako whispers, lips so close to Himiko’s own that she can almost taste the mix of strawberry lipgloss and iron. 

“Mhm,” is all Himiko can utter, eyes darting from Ochako’s own eyes to her lips. 

Ochako bites the inside of her cheek and the guard by her mouth drops his weapon. “Himiko, can I taste your blood?” she asks, and her lips brush against Himiko’s. 

Himiko answers by pressing her lips against Ochako’s own, and the brunette freezes for just a moment. Then, her heart is hammering against her ribcage, lips messily pressing further against Himiko’s own. She’s clumsy and drunk on desire long withheld, tongue licking up the small drops of blood on Himiko’s lips. She nibbles on her lower lip, tasting sweet strawberry and an even sweeter crimson that strips her of all rationale. Her hand carreses Himiko’s cheek, nose softly pressing against smooth skin.

 Himiko slides her hand through Ochako’s hair, holding her head as she deepens the kiss, lips plump and needy. It’s a push and pull of their rocking bodies begging to melt into one another, and Himiko feels everything crumble away. But, she doesn’t care. Because the sweet taste of Ochako’s lips and wet tongue broke through everything. It was Himiko’s delicate ambrosia, and she cherished every last drop. 

The two pulled away with heavy pants, lips burning and a line of saliva connecting them before woefully splitting apart. They stare into each other’s eyes, faces flushed and hot to the touch. No one speaks for a long while, and the silence is filled with hard breathing and the thumping of hearts in both their ears. 

“Ochako….this….th-that was…I…” Himiko stutters, unsure of what to say as her mind tries to catch up with her body. 

“We kissed,” Ochako says with a huff, and her eyes are so dark, Himiko wonders if she stares hard enough that she would see a galaxy reflecting back at her. 

“We did,” Himiko replies, licking her lips and savoring the taste of Ochako’s mouth on her. “Friends don’t kiss like that, right?” 

“No, no they don’t.” Ochako swallows hard, and her lips tremble with withdrawal. 

“Then what are we?” Himiko asks, golden eyes like the stars dotting the sky above them. 

Ochako inhales slowly, lungs filling with Himiko’s scent. Her hands reach for Himiko’s own, and she intertwines their fingers. Himiko’s legs squeeze against Ochako’s waist tenderly. 

“Lovers,” Ochako answers, and her voice is firm. “Is that okay?” 

“It’s more than okay. All I wanted was you, Ochako,” Himiko whispered, pressing a gentle kiss to Ochako’s fingers. 

Ochako’s head rests beneath Himiko’s chin, snuggling into her collarbone. Her arms wrap around Himiko’s waist, and she presses her ear against her skin, listening to the ecstatic sound of her beating heart. 

“I love you, Himiko. So much it hurts. I want you too. I need you,” Ochako murmured against Himiko’s skin, and Himiko wrapped her arms around Ochako, her cheek rubbing against the top of her head.

Himiko breathes, relaxing against Ochako’s soft hair with each inhale. “I love you, too. Stay by my side, please.” 

“Forever,” Ochako promised. 

They held each other for a long moment, relishing in the warmth of their bodies and the comforting sound of their soft breathing. Under the blanket of stars, their love coagulated from stolen glances and lingering touches, to vows and confessions that had long been aching to break free.

With Ochako, Himiko not only wanted her blood. But she wanted to give Ochako hers too. Because in a world where Ochako Uraraka walked, Himiko Toga could smile wholeheartedly, knowing that Ochako would love her for it and more. 

Afterall, Himiko’s smile was the cutest in the whole world. 

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roundcheeks

11:59 pm 

We’re dating now. Thanks. :) 

Katsuki looks at his phone, and he watches as everyone’s face shifts into sheer glee and relief from their dear friend’s update. Everyone except for Denki and Kyoka who curl into themselves. 

“Pay up, fuckers,” Katsuki snickers, palm held open. Kyoka and Denki stingily pull out their wallets, slapping a stack of money into Katsuki’s calloused hands. The blonde brings the bills to his nose, taking a long, hard whiff as he glares at the two dunces. “Smells like victory.” 

“When the hell did yall bet on this?” Mina asks, looking from Katsuki to the tearful two. 

“Don’t worry about it,” is all Katsuki says, pocketing the cold, hard cash with satisfaction. 

“Kyoka, you bet on them not getting together?” Momo pouts, surprised her wife would do such a thing. 

“No, I bet on them not calling it official today. Why the hell did they do it today? They could’ve waited just one more minute,” Kyoka cried, sobbing into Momo’s embrace. 

“There goes my grocery funds. Goodbye meat. I’ll see you in a few months' time,” Denki whined, smacking his forehead against the table. 

“Bro, how much did you bet?” Eijiro asked, and Denki only cried harder. 

Himiko and Ochako cuddled in bed together, asleep and blissfully unaware of their two friends being scammed by the one man who understood the unpredictableness of enemies to friends to lovers like the back of his hand.