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Ochako was allowed to go home early from work today. It wasn’t because there wasn’t work to be done, quite the opposite. Rather, within an hour of her being on the clock, catastrophe had struck, and she’d been called in. An upstart villain group, one trying to recapture the glory of the Paranormal Liberation Front, had attacked a hospital. Her entire day had been spent evacuating people, stopping villains, and recovering survivors. It was only 5:23 pm, and she already felt like she’d experienced an age.
Izuku had come home with her. Like her, he looked worse for wear. The moment he walked in through the door, he beelined for the fridge, retrieving the refrigerated half katsudon. It was half a katsudon, because he’d gotten it from his Mom, and he’d been splitting it to spread it out over more meals. Ochako herself wasn’t doing well in terms of food either. However, for the moment, she wasn’t hungry, so she went to her room and bathroom to wash and get changed.
Izuku and Ochako shared a room in their cramped apartment. While they were both prominent, successful heroes, the very infrastructure of heroics had been shattered to its core by the war. This apartment was given to them for free. All of the furniture in it was scavenged pieces of their old lives, whether from the dorms or from their old houses. Any food they got was thrown together with spare change, loaned meals from parents, or, on occasion, asking Yaomomo if she could lend them some money; they owed her about ¥20,000 for meals.
After Ochako had rinsed her face off, she opened the door of the dresser and rummaged through the hangers, the sound of them sliding reminding her of a busy thrift store. She was able to find a white crop top, as well as one of Izuku’s pairs of basketball shorts that had a drawstring. Once she’d gotten out of her hero costume, she threw the clothes on and walked back out into the kitchenette living room that took up most of the apartment.
She almost ran into Izuku, who’d no doubt wolfed down whatever little bit of katsudon had been left.
“Oh, sorry Ochako!” he said.
“It’s okay,” Ochako replied, simply stepping around him in the doorway on her way to the main room. On the coffee table in front of the couch, she saw a box of mochi. Curious, she walked over to it.
It was a box of six convenience store mochi, strawberry flavor by the look of it. Attached to it was a note that read,
Dear Uravity,
I don’t think you remember me, but I’ll never forget you. It was in Sauro City, on the second day of excavations. You’re the one that got me out, somewhere around eight in the morning. It’s taken me a while to get back on my feet (literally and metaphorically), but now I have and I want to thank you! It took me a while to find out who you were, but I’m so happy that you didn’t retire, even when most people had nothing good to say about heroes. You should really be proud of yourself, Uravity! I learned that you liked mochi, and I had enough money to get you some and send it to you, so here you are. It’s nothing for saving my life, but I hope it means something anyway.
Sincerely,
Oshirai
Ochako sighed and looked around at the dismal apartment. She didn’t feel like she had much to be proud of. Oshirai was right, whoever they were; she didn’t remember them. Rescuing people from Sauro City had been one of the most traumatic experiences of her life. She had rescued dozens of people from rubble, only to go back to the medical tents and find that the meager medical supplies couldn’t save all of them.
Now, here she was, working the illustrious job of a hero, but having to beg her friends and family for food, because society was still too crumbled to support heroes like it used to.
Ochako ate the mochi slowly, savoring every bite as best she could. After the day she had, she could almost cry for how good they tasted. When was the last time I had mochi, she wondered. She couldn’t answer the question before Izuku walked in, wearing an All Might robe
“Oh, you found the mochi?” he asked.
“Yeah, from Oshirai. Oh my god, I’m so sorry, did you want some?!” she asked, staring at the empty box.
Izuku chuckled softly and shook his head. “No, they’re for you. I found it in the mail yesterday. I checked after you’d gone to bed. I didn’t want to wake you up, so they’ve been sitting in the fridge until now.”
She nodded her head in understanding.
“Oh!” Izuku exclaimed. “Mail! I should go check it before I forget,” he said. He yawned as he walked out the door, no less exhausted than she was.
Ochako threw away the box for the mochi and mounted the small note from Oshirai on their fridge. She opened the door and looked inside, seeing if there was anything more proper that either of them could have for dinner. All she saw were a few sauces scavenged from their dorm and a couple of oranges. She closed the fridge and sighed, lamenting that they had nothing to call a proper dinner. Guess I’d better call Yaomomo again, she thought.
Suddenly, Izuku burst through the front door in a huff, the green electricity of his quirk buzzing around him.
“What’s wrong?!” Ochako asked, running to his aid.
He held up two envelopes. “It’s for us! From the NHCJ!” he said.
Ochako’s eyes widened. The New Hero Commission of Japan, or NHCJ, was the replacement of the old HPSC. Many of their procedures were borrowed from the old commission, but they carried far less power and were held to a far greater standard of transparency. It helped that most of the people who worked there were heroes or former heroes themselves, the ones that hadn’t given up, even at the height of the conflict.
Nervously, the two of them began to peel open their respective envelopes.
To Uravity,
For the protection of our society and your persevering service. We thank you and compensate you.
There were a few signatures signing the letter, one of which she recognized as belonging to principal Nezu of UA. Her eyes didn’t linger on them long. Rather, they drifted down to the check, attached to the main letter by a dotted line.
¥875,000.
The check fell, swaying in the air like a leaf. As it hit the floor, Ochako came back to herself and picked it up, handling it like a precious relic.
Glancing over at Izuku, it was clear that his letter contained the same thing. In the former economy of heroics, he would have been paid more than her. Now that the system had changed, the two of them were paid the same amount. Together, they had earned almost two million yen.
Izuku looked at her.
“Ochako, love… should we go to the bank?” he asked.
“Family Mart should be fine, they have an atm there,” she answered. Izuku threw off his robe, revealing his t-shirt and shorts underneath. He walked over to the door and started putting his bulky red shoes on. Ochako got her purse and tucked the checks into it before zipping it closed. When Izuku had finished putting his shoes on, Ochako hopped on his back piggyback style and used her quirk on him.
“I’m ready when you are,” she said.
“Ready!” he replied, throwing the door open. Activating his Full Cowl, he leapt out the door.
Many things had changed since before. For one thing, the laws surrounding public quirk use were far more lenient. Fighting with quirks was taken just as seriously, but using them to fly about or simply have fun wasn’t frowned upon by the law. Many civilians were taking to the changes slowly, but heroes, already used to using their quirks on the job, had quickly welcomed the new change.
It meant that it took Izuku and Ochako ten seconds to get to the Family Mart down the block from them. Ochako didn’t even get off his back as he opened the door and walked in.
“Irrashaimase!” the cashier called out, not even looking away from the fridge she was stocking behind the counter. The two other customers in the store, another couple, looked at Izuku and Ochako for a moment before going back to what they were doing. The world had experienced much chaos; Ochako piggybacking her boyfriend into Family Mart was nothing.
From over Izuku’s shoulder, Ochako fed her card into the atm and cashed in the checks. Her boyfriend turned around to leave, and she looked over the store.
She remembered the Family Mart near her parent’s house. She remembered her Mom counting her coins before going in and quietly doing the math beneath her breath as she skimmed across labels. Now, the two of them had enough money that she didn’t even need to look at the price. If she wanted something, she could take it.
Nothing caught her fancy as Izuku walked out, and she gladly used her quirk on him as he leapt back to their apartment, unlocked the door, and walked in.
He eagerly tore off his shoes and stepped into the apartment. “We can go out tonight!” he declared happily.
“That sounds great. Do we have any clothes for it?” Ochako asked.
“Uh…” Izuku trailed off, then started muttering as he made his way back to their shared bedroom to investigate their clothes. In the meantime, Ochako sent a message to Yaomomo, saying that they’d just gotten checks in the mail. Yaomomo replied to her almost right away, saying that they didn’t have to pay her back right away, and that they didn’t need to pay her any interest. Ochako would still handle it the very next day, afraid of debt even to her friends.
Izuku exited their bedroom scratching the back of his neck nervously. “I’m sorry Ochako, we don’t have any nice clothes for going out. This is about the best we have,” he said, plucking at his own t-shirt.
“That’s okay… don’t Satou’s parents own a place?” Ochako asked. His parents had met everyone in his class, and thus were familiar with both Izuku and Ochako, as well as their situation. Even if they weren’t dressed up to par, they would be happily let in.
Izuku’s emerald eyes lit up in the way that enchanted Ochako, even now after they’d been together for months. “You’re right! But, isn’t it far?” he asked.
“Not for your quirks it isn’t,” Ochako said, shooting him a wink. Izuku smiled, his eyes watering like they always did when he got the slightest bit emotional. He didn’t cry as openly as he used to, something that made Ochako sad, but for her he always wore his heart on his sleeve.
Ochako squeezed past him. “Satou and his parents won’t mind how we’re dressed, but I still want to try to look nice,” she said. The two of them searched through what they had. As expected, they didn’t have much.
Yet, Ochako reminded herself. Now, she could say yet .
Izuku put on a green zip up jacket over his shirt that said “tie”. Ochako slipped on a flowy v-necked t-shirt, and was able to substitute her oversized basketball shorts in favor of something that actually fit her. To top it off, she was able to wear some scrunchies Yaomomo had made for her as bracelets. Other than that, there wasn’t anything either of them could do.
“You look beautiful, Ochako,” Izuku said.
“You too,” she replied, openly tracing his figure with her eyes. His vaguely unflattering clothes did nothing to hide the fact he was built like an adonis, and his face was the cutest in all the world (in Ochako’s highly objective opinion).
This time, Ochako put her shoes on as they left their apartment. She expected Izuku to crouch so she could climb on his back as usual, but he surprised her by sweeping her up into a bridal carry.
“Ready?” he asked her, beaming the brilliant way he always did.
“Ready when you are,” Ochako replied, leaning up to plant a kiss on his cheek. She chuckled at the way it made him blush.
“L-l-let’s go!” he stuttered, charging up his quirk as Ochako activated her own.
Izuku took off into the sky. The feeling of flying with him was always exhilarating, but it was elevated to new heights by the way she was carried in his strong arms. It was a priceless feeling, a luxury that didn’t cost her a dime but was worth the world.
As Izuku leapt from rooftop to rooftop, clearing several in each leap, Ochako could see construction lining almost the entire horizon in the distance. Somewhere out there, her own parents were working hard to undo the damage that the Paranormal Liberation Front had wrought upon the world. People celebrated heroes as they vanquished the world’s greatest threat, but not as many people honored the doctors, the construction workers, and the people behind desks who had to rebuild society from rubble. Those were the people Ochako depended on, even as a hero: the cashier at Family Mart, the person at the NHCJ in charge of mail, and the very people she saved sending her tokens of their gratitude, keeping her going more than any paycheck could.
She looked up into Izuku’s eyes, focused on the horizon ahead. He’d faced things her worst nightmares as a child couldn’t conjure up, and now, any day he was alive to watch children playing outside and people going about their day, he thanked her for making the world worth saving. Ochako always smiled, hugged him, kissed him, slept beside him, not sure how else to show her gratitude. She still didn’t know what she’d done, but if she meant to him what he meant to her, then Ochako really was owed everything.
He would pay her in little luxuries like this: being held in his arms as they sailed through the sky together, knowing that the horizon ahead was bright.
The End