Chapter Text
Ochako never before thought it was particularly important to mention her living habits to her new friends, her lonely apartment. Over time, she felt her classmates and teachers figured she lived alone.
Partly, it was the hours spent at the school gym or the library. Even Todoroki or Bakugo, who frequented the gym more than her, or Yaomomo and Tenya who stayed back with her at the library went home sometimes. If she could avoid it, she would.
She also never invited anyone over. Ashido constantly insisted on the girls visiting her place to "chill", and a few times they'd been to Yaomomo's (hers was the biggest, so the other girls always insisted that be their hangout). She'd eventually even been to Tenya's with Deku and Tsu. Yet, she didn't have it in her to offer them an invitation to hers.
The final piece was perhaps her own admittance of her reasoning behind her hero dreams; for money to support her family. When she'd explained where her family lived and worked, she figured they'd put the pieces together.
It was nice, her friends always invited her over after school, even going as far as insisting she stay for dinner or even sleep over. She didn't want their pity or charity, so she always refused, but it was nice.
Still, they didn't understand.
She felt it in Todoroki's envious gaze when she left sometime after school for a place she owned by herself, and she knew he didn't have the best relationship with his family. She didn't know the details, but it was obvious.
She knew Bakugo didn't like going home either, knew lida sometimes caved under the pressure of his family's expectations, knew Deku struggled to face his mom with a new injury again.
She knew sometimes Tsu dreaded the siblings she had to take care of, after the exhausting day because it was a tiring responsibility she couldn't run from.
But they didn't understand. Because when it was beginning to get dark and she couldn't stay at U.A any longer, she reminisced her middle school on the walk home. The walk back home then had always felt familiar, a friendly face she'd grown up with at every corner. They'd kept her company.
But the walk from U.A was full of bustling crowds, down on their phones when she boarded that train. Only way to drown the loneliness with anxiety so she'd worry about the train fare even though it was unavoidable. Sometimes she wished her quirk let her fly, even though it wouldn't have been legal for her to use it to get home anyway.
And then the USJ attack happened, and she had nightmares at night. She never stayed at U.A too late after that, because the dark had become more terrifying. And when she woke up from those nightmares and that fear gripped her, she had to coax herself back to sleep. Sometimes, she only found release at the junkyard isolated down the street from her shoddy apartment, at some ungodly hours of the morning, when the dew hung wet still.
If her parents were there, they'd remind her of her dreams, and never let the nightmares prevail in the face of those dreams. And no matter how Todoroki or Bakugo or Tenya or Deku or Tsu complained, their beds were familiar, their homes were comfortable, and their childhood was still present there. There was someone to calm their beating heart, while hers dropped to her stomach all by herself.
This apartment was empty and hollow, and sometimes she felt it seeping into her bones, almost as if it was contagious.
It didn't hit her how badly she missed home, and how homesick she really was, until one morning she woke up, sticky with cold sweat.
She managed to pull herself out of her comforter, lightheaded the moment she righted herself.
The world blurred around her, and she shivered in the brisk morning air. She wasn't certain how she made it out of bed and into the shower. She struggled with her uniform.
Without an appetite and money, she decided to skip breakfast and nearly fainted at the door. With the threat of blacking out before she even made it to U.A, she had no choice but to get back in her futon.
She wasn't sure when she fell asleep, or how long. But when she awoke, she found herself heavy, unable to lift herself. For someone whose quirk lightened the weight, it sure wasn't helpful then.
She wasn't sure how long she lay there, mind blank and unable to focus, but finally, she pushed against the fatigue and rolled herself over to grab her flip phone.
The time read nearly two p.m., which meant it was easily past noon and nearly time for classes to end. She'd forgotten to message anyone, and considering the recent villain attacks, she feared her class might be super worried. Plus, her parents didn't know either. She didn't think she'd sleep that long, especially considering her recent restlessness.
While she dreaded having to tell anyone, she sent a message to Tsu, frowning. She added as many emojis as it took to reassure her green-haired friend, and eventually, she'd convinced her with promises to visit the doctor and get medicine soon as possible.
They didn't have her address, so it's not like they could do anything, anyway.
Her flu lasted two days. The second day, she forced herself out of her futon and put on some sweats and jackets. The fear of passing out was still prominent, but she had no choice. Nobody else would get her groceries or medicine, groaning at the thought of the money.
She was glad she'd written a list because, despite her normally decent memory, she was so unfocused at that moment that she'd nearly forgotten how she even got there.
Luckily, she didn't have much to get - not if she could help it, at least, only the necessities - so using her quirk barely strained her, still she was certain her trembling hands were a result of that on top of her sickness.
No matter how much fatigue was pulling her down, she somehow managed to keep herself awake long enough to make some bleak, disgusting porridge, forcing it down her throat, and taken her medicine.
Then she gave in to gravity in a way she hadn't since she was four.
She nursed herself to health and despite her sore throat and the common symptoms of cold - annoyingly, a blocked nose so she sounded a little bit like a chipmunk, much to Bakugou's delight - she was able to at least drag herself out of her apartment and back to U.A.
Her friends were worried about her health, but she'd missed two days and it was two too many. Even if her chest ached with sickness lingering. Or maybe it was her heart, pumping homesickness into her blood.
She hadn't had the strength to call her parents; it meant she'd have to fake being well because it'd kill them to hear her suffer while they were helpless.
She could fake it when it came to her jumpiness, she didn't tell them that sometimes she doubted even her own shadow thought it was a villain lurking. Didn't tell them she had thought about death recently, more than she'd ever before. They didn't know that she was beginning to see the reality behind heroism, the close encounters with danger, and the taste of it bitter in her mouth still, because she couldn't tell her parents.
Her classmates could have their hair stroked and cry about it on the day off, but she'd laid on the floor of her apartment, feeling too vacant to even care about hygiene. Because if she told her parents, it didn't change anything. They were too far away, and they knew their words over the phone were empty.
Was this the promised life of an adult and hero; sick and alone because her parents couldn't afford to see her and she was too independent and old to call them anyways? Plagued with nightmares by herself because she was a hero and she'd better handle it herself?
Ochako never before thought it was particularly important to mention her living habits to her new friends, because it was empty. It was worse than Thirteen's quirk, its nothingness crept up on you slowly, and you didn't realise until you felt it inside you.