Chapter Text
The battle was over. The final war had come to a devastating end, leaving countless scars on the world and those who survived. Ochako Uraraka stood at the edge of a quiet park, the night air cool against her skin, her thoughts heavy with memories she wished she could forget but knew she never would.
She was a hero, but that didn’t mean she was free from the weight of guilt. It had been months since the end of the war, and still, she thought about her.
Himiko Toga.
Their battle haunted her—those moments when everything blurred into confusion, and the line between enemies and something more faded. They had fought each other, clashed fiercely, both fueled by their convictions. But it was in those fights ever since she's seen the tears, that Ochako saw something in Toga. Not just a villain. Not just a monster. A broken girl, desperate for connection, yearning for love in a world that only offered her rejection and pain.
That realization had come too late.
Ochako clenched her fists as the memory of their final moments replayed in her mind. Toga had been injured—gravely so—her quirk running wild as her life slipped away. But in those last seconds, in a twist of cruel irony, it was Toga who had saved Ochako.
She remembered the sensation of warm blood in her hands as Toga had smiled that haunting, sad smile and pressed her palm against Ochako’s chest. "These feelings... are genuine," she had whispered, barely able to speak. "So I'm giving you... all of my blood."
And then Toga collapsed, both in each others arms, her life ebbing away as she gave what little she had left to save the hero who had tried to stop her.
Ochako had felt her heart break that day. She had never asked for Toga’s sacrifice, had never wanted it. But it happened anyway, leaving her to grapple with the aftermath, the guilt eating away at her every day since. Toga’s face—her pain, her confusion, her desire for love—haunted Ochako’s dreams.
The world believed Himiko Toga was dead. A villain who had finally been stopped, her reign of terror ended. Heroes celebrated. They mourned their own losses, but few shed tears for Toga.
Except Ochako.
She had mourned Toga. Not as a villain, but as a girl lost in a world that had never tried to understand her. Ochako had seen the pieces of herself in Toga—the parts that longed to be accepted for who she was, flaws and all. She had come to realize that, in a different life, they could have been friends. Allies. But instead, they had been enemies.
Months passed, and Ochako couldn’t move on. The world rebuilt, heroes picked up the pieces, but Ochako carried Toga with her—everywhere. The burden of what happened, of what could have been, was suffocating. Every time she looked at her hands, she remembered the warmth of Toga’s blood, the life that had been given for her own.
One evening, as the sun dipped below the horizon, Ochako heard a rumor. A whisper in the dark corners of the city. A girl with a familiar face, a shadow moving through the outskirts, avoiding detection.
At first, she dismissed it. It couldn’t be. Toga was gone. She had seen it happen. She had buried the guilt, tried to, anyway. But the rumors persisted. And something deep inside Ochako refused to let go of the possibility.
Driven by an unshakable need to know, Ochako followed the whispers. She searched the ruins of old hideouts, abandoned warehouses, places where outcasts and villains once hid. She chased after fleeting glimpses of shadows that looked like someone she used to know, all the while hearing Toga’s voice in her mind, the way she used to tease her, taunt her, and in the end, how she had saved her.
[...]
After weeks of searching, Ochako finally found her.
[...]
It was in a forgotten part of the city, far from where anyone would care to look. A crumbling building, overgrown with vines and decay, hidden away from the prying eyes of the world. Inside, in the dim light of a dying lantern, sat Himiko Toga—alive, but barely.
Ochako’s breath caught in her throat as she stepped closer. Toga looked different now. Thinner. Hollowed out. Her once playful, mischievous expression was now replaced by a weariness that Ochako had never seen before. But her eyes—those same wild, intense eyes—still held the fire of the girl Ochako had fought so many times.
"Tog-... Himiko...?" Ochako’s voice was a whisper, unsure if she was seeing a ghost or a miracle.
Toga looked up, her face pale, but when she saw Ochako, something flickered in her gaze—recognition, and maybe even relief.
"Ochako,,," Toga’s voice was weak, barely a rasp. "You... found me."
Ochako rushed to her side, kneeling down. Her heart raced, torn between relief and the overwhelming flood of emotions she couldn’t even begin to sort out. "You’re... you're alive," she breathed, her hands shaking. "How...?"
Toga chuckled, but it was a broken sound, nothing like the wild laughter Ochako had once known. "Barely," she muttered. "I... I shouldn’t be. But... here I am."
Ochako reached out, hesitating for a moment before gently touching Toga’s shoulder. "Why didn’t you come back? Why did you...?" She couldn’t finish the question. The guilt surged up again, choking her.
Toga looked at her with those same intense eyes, but this time, there was no malice. Just exhaustion. "What was I supposed to do? Walk up to the heroes and say, ‘Hey, I’m not dead after all’? They’d lock me up. Or worse."
Ochako’s chest tightened. She knew Toga was right. The world wouldn’t forgive her. But that didn’t change the fact that Ochako couldn’t leave her like this. Not after everything.
"You saved me," Ochako whispered, her voice trembling. "You gave me your blood, and I… I didn’t deserve it. I couldn’t even save you in return."
Toga’s eyes softened, and for a moment, the old Toga—the one who had teased her, who had flirted with her in the midst of battle—peeked through the exhaustion. "You don’t get it, do you?" she murmured, a small, sad smile playing on her lips. "I didn’t do it for you to feel guilty. I did it because... I wanted you to live. I wanted you to understand me. Just a little."
Ochako’s heart broke all over again. She realized now, in that quiet, forgotten place, that they had always been two sides of the same coin—both of them longing for something they couldn’t quite grasp.
And maybe, just maybe, they could finally find it together.
"I won’t let you die here," Ochako said firmly, her voice stronger now as she tried her best not to break down. "Not alone. Not like this."
Toga’s eyes widened slightly, but then she closed them, leaning her head back against the wall. "You really are such a hero," she whispered, a faint, bitter laugh escaping her lips. "Always trying to save everyone."
Ochako didn’t argue. She just took Toga’s hand, holding it tightly as her own trembled still in shock and relief. "This time, I’m going to save you."