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“Uraraka!” Deku shouted, pointing across the street.
Ochako looked, down the row of booths, until her eyes landed on a familiar set of colors.
“What is it?” Iida asked.
Deku was already running forward, weaving between the crowd, and Ochako followed him. Iida might not understand, but he would follow them too, and it would be easier to explain from close up.
Stopping at the booth, Deku bent over and set his hands on his knees. At first Ochako thought he was tired from running, and then she heard him muttering, and she realized that he had focused in on the game the booth was running.
Iida caught up quickly. “I still don’t know what’s happening,” he said. He’d been saying this all day, ever since they first arrived at the fair. His lack of knowledge about the situation didn’t seem to be impeding his enjoyment at all.
Midoriya snapped out of his focus and turned back to his friends. “Iida, look!” he said again, and pointed up to one of the prize plushies hanging from the booth’s walls and ceilings.
It looked like Ochako in her hero costume.
“I’ve never seen merch of you guys before!” Midoriya exclaimed, “I don’t think they can be mass produced for students who haven’t graduated—so this has got to be super rare! I have to have it!”
“Why don’t you buy it then?” Iida said.
“I think he has to win it,” Ochako countered, gesturing back at the booth in front of them them. There were a set of uniform sticks pointing up near the back wall and sets of rings laid out on the front counter.
“It can’t be that hard,” Deku said, walking up to the counter, “I mean, it’s probably not easy either, but with practice, I’m sure it can be done!”
Deku’s first round wasn’t so bad. He was athletic, and while most of his hero moves used gross motor skills, a few of them relied on fine motor skills—like the air he could blast by flicking his fingers. Watching him, Ochako was confident that it would only take him a few rounds of practice to win.
But by the third round, Deku was getting worse. At first Ochako couldn’t figure out what was happening—Deku wasn’t the kind of person to get bored and start giving up—and then she saw him rubbing his wrists between throws. Iida saw it too—he gave Ochako a knowing look. They both knew Deku had problems with his hands sometimes, because of the way he’d hurt them with his quirk in the past. But there wasn’t a lot either of them could do about it.
When Deku was about to start his fourth round, Ochako walked up and tapped him on the shoulder. “Hey,” she said, “This looks fun, and I’ve been standing here a while. Mind if I have a try?”
“Oh, of course!” Deku said, waving his hands, “And we can move on if you guys get bored!”
“Nonsense!” Iida said, chopping his arm for emphasis, “We are going to win that plushie!”
Ochako picked up the rings and took a deep breath. She’d been to a lot of fairs, but she hadn’t played a lot of games like this. Usually, her family had only spent money on things they would definitely get something out of. A game like this was too risky—it was set up to trick you into thinking you would win easily, when really it was almost impossible.
That’s why, when Ochako was a girl, she had gone home and made her own carnival games. She’d set cups in the tub and practiced dropping coins until they always landed inside, fired Nerf guns from the couch at bottles lined up on the counter. And she’d made a game like this before, with sticks stuck down in the ground at the park.
With every toss she landed, Ochako’s friends got quieter behind her—until the final throw went true, and they erupted in cheers.
“Uraraka!” Iida exclaimed, “I had no idea you were so good at these!”
“Me neither!” Ochako said. Honestly, she’d kind of forgotten.
Deku looked like he might vibrate out of his skin. “Uraraka,” he said, “You should go pick out a prize.”
Triumphantly, Ochako reached up and pulled down the plushie of herself. “Oh!” she exclaimed, “It’s so soft!” She hugged it, holding it close to herself, and then she held it out to Deku. “Here—you try!”
Deku took the plushie. “You’re so right!” he said. He hugged it like Ochako had, tucking his chin over his head. He was smiling so wide Ochako thought it might split his face.
“I’m still not sure I understand the significance,” Iida said, pushing his glasses back up his face, “But might I give it a try?”
“Sure!” Deku said, handing the plushie over too him.
Iida took it cautiously, the way someone unfamiliar with babies might handle a newborn. Slowly, methodically, he also hugged it.
Ochako burst out laughing. She couldn’t imagine anywhere else she’d rather be, or anyone else she’d rather be with.