Chapter Text
The small nameless town, nestled within the woodland, was as cool and colorless as the moon, with the people just as distant. The people’s attitude was rather ironic considering how many called it “the kind of town where everyone knew everyone” and yet only the most basic of information could be recalled. Everyone and everything were taken at face value and that was how they liked it.
The Uraraka family was very famous in the town for their construction business that had passed down through the generations. Something always needed to be fixed and with their reputation, had established a connection with many prominent families throughout the country, like the Yaoyorozu’s. They had moved there when their daughter was born at the mother’s insistence; she wanted her daughter to grow up in her hometown.
At four she had toddled far away from her parent’s grand estate, pretending she was a grand explorer of the sky. She stumbled through the cracked cobblestone streets, imagining each crack was a mile wide and she would fall to certain death if she stepped on one. It was tricky having to navigate the unsteady ground while looking to the sky for guidance, but she made it all the way to the edge of the world (the woods). By now, the sun was setting behind her and the stars were beginning to blink open over the woods as the moon rose, waking them with its gentle light. She had never been to the woods, gone beyond the borders of her small world, but with the light of the moon a great explorer such as her self could easily navigate.
She quickly found that moonlight rarely filtered throughout the thick canopy of the woods and that her wool coat and skirt were not suited very well to exploring the woods. She was snagged by thorns and branches, tripped by roots, and startled with every creak. Her earlier confidence long gone, she ran through the woods, looking for a way back through the darkness, tears streaming down her flushed face.
She yelled and cried for help as she ran, her tears blurring the darkness. She tripped again and stayed down, exhausted and scared. Eventually, her cries reached a restless young boy, who lived in a house beyond the woods. Terrified of the wailing that came from the woods, he fetched his mother who went to investigate and found the small girl.
“Oh you poor thing,” she said, the light of her lantern revealing the child’s messy face, “What are you doing here? Are you alright?”
The child clung to her and cried, allowing Inko to pick her up and take her back to her house. Upon exiting the woods and seeing the pale light illuminating the farm, she began to calm down, her sobs turning into sniffles.
Izuku was nervously waiting for his mother by the door, his worry growing when he heard sniffling. Had she been hurt? Then the door opened, and he saw a girl his age in his mother’s arms.
“Who’s that?” he asked curiously, only able to see a head of brown hair and a dirty wool coat.
“I’m not sure yet, but she needs help. Can you get me a bowl of water and a rag?” Inko asked.
Her son dutifully went into action, running to the kitchen, where they kept the emergency water bucket. She dusted the girl off in the meantime as her son came toddling back with a bowl of cold water, some of it sloshing to the ground, but there was more than enough to rub the dirt off the girl’s face.
“I’m sorry but this will be cold,” Inko warned, wringing out the rag. Her son sat next to the girl, keeping his distance but still there if she needed help.
The girl nodded, wincing as the freezing water touched her skin. “Thank you,” she said in a small voice.
As Inko carefully wiped the dirt off her face and hands, looking for any cuts and scratches, Izuku decided to introduce himself.
“My name is Izuku Midoriya. What’s your name?”
“Ochako Uraraka.”
Inko held back a gasp and continued wiping the dirt off. The daughter of the richest couple in town? She had never met them herself and could only hope they wouldn’t accuse the poor shepherd of kidnapping.
The two children continued to talk, though Izuku made most of the conversation with how shaken Ochako was. Eventually, the girl was as clean as she could be in the situation and half-way asleep. Izuku reluctantly went to his room while Inko made a makeshift mattress out of pillows and blankets for the girl in her room.
The next morning, the three headed to town where Inko was glad to find that her parents were not the accusatory type and instead offered a reward for bringing their daughter back home.
“No, I couldn’t possibly. I would be distraught if Izuku went missing.”
“Please, we must thank you somehow,” the mother insisted.
Inko looked to where her son and their daughter were happily playing with rocks on the ground, completely oblivious to the boring adult conversation. She requested that they let their children remain friends, something they agreed to so long as their daughter was okay with it. She was overjoyed. Her parents expected her to lose interest in her new friend after a few days, but days turned to weeks, and weeks turned to months and every day she still asked to see him.
Together they faced the scary woods (which were much more peaceful during the day) with the help of Inko and spent a lot of time with the sheep at the farm, who Ochako loved to pet. Conversely, Izuku would never stop being shocked at her large house and all the toys she had. Over time, they made friends with the other kids in the village and had ten peaceful years together.
Then, when they were fourteen, Izuku’s family received a letter. His father had decided to leave them for a younger woman he met while working overseas. He only wrote to them to ask not to contact him. The family of two became withdrawn, tending to the sheep and rarely going out.
At the same time, Ochako’s family was starting to spend frivolously, wasting their finite wealth by upgrading things that didn’t need it, figuring that if they could afford it, they should have it. Not believing in their philosophy, she began to go out less to save money where she could.
By fifteen they felt like strangers to each other, but unlike a stranger, neither one could look at the other. They had never told each other of the problems their respective family faced and now seeing the other in public made them feel ashamed for disappearing like a ghost.
At sixteen, the Midoriya family was officially rich. Their farm had always had an unusual number of black sheep and black wool was unsellable since it couldn’t be dyed, leaving them with little money. Inko had an idea one day and sold the black wool alongside the white for a higher price, advertising it as a beautiful rarity that only the most accomplished could handle. Her advertising worked and set a trend for black wool as a symbol of wealth.
On December 27th, both persons were officially eighteen. In celebration of Ochako’s eighteenth birthday everyone in town had been invited to the ball her parents were throwing.
She panicked, knowing they had no more money. They sold everything they could, let go of most of their staff, and they were still teetering on the edge of debt. Hosting a ball that would encompass the entire town would push them over the edge and leave them drown in a sea of debt.
“I know dear,” her mother said when she brought it up, “We were silly and frivolous, letting wealth go to our heads. We’ve failed in our duty to leave you with the funds you’ll need, or anything at all. This ball isn’t just in celebration of your birth - though that is a most blessed occasion to me - it is also to find you a husband now that you are of marriageable age. A husband who will care for you when we cannot.”
“I have barely turned eighteen mother. And you know I would prefer the warmth of a love match over a cold logistical pairing,” Ochako argued.
“We will not force a match, but we will encourage you to look closely at the men in attendance. Perhaps someone may catch your eye.”
She nodded along, though her mind wandered elsewhere. The town was so small she could easily recall the names of every eligible bachelor and none of them sounded appealing. All the younger ones were friends she had grown up with and nothing more, while the older ones were exactly that, too old for her to consider being a good match.
She knew the clock was ticking on her now, but she pushed those thoughts away, more intent on finding ways to make the ball cheaper yet still look as impressive as ever. When the day finally arrived, she spent the whole day double and triple checking things until one of the few maids they still had, Kayama Nemuri, dragged her to her room to get her ready for the ball.
Her parents were wonderful hosts, taking care to introduce everyone and she knew she needed to make sure everyone enjoyed themselves, lest the ball be a waste. She danced and chatted, ate and drink, making sure to express her gratitude at every given moment.
The ballroom doors opened again, and a new pair of people walked in, with familiar green hair. She felt her cheeks drain of color at the sight of them. She hadn’t attended any events the Midoriya family had thrown, too busy with trying to manage finances. Any introduction would surely be too awkward to bear, and she internally hoped her parents would realize that and guide them away from her. Alas, after a few moments of talking, they were heading right for her.
It took everything she had to maintain her polite smile as they began the introductions.
“Ms. Uraraka, it’s been so long since we’ve seen each other,” Izuku said politely.
She felt herself internally flinch at the statement, though she was sure he didn’t mean for her to have such a reaction. The longer she looked at him, the guiltier she felt for her years of avoidance.
“Indeed. I hear you are doing quite well for yourselves now.”
“I can’t take all the credit. My mother was the one who had the brilliant idea, I just helped. Tell her-” he broke off, realizing his mother was no longer by his side. Ochako’s parents had disappeared as well. “Well, I’m sure we can ask her for the story later. How is your family doing,” he continued, a blush turning his freckled cheeks as pink as hers.
She hesitated for a moment, just long enough for him to tell something was wrong.
“We are doing as well as can be in our current circumstances,” she admitted.
“Current circumstances?” he questioned, looking concerned.
She looked around, making sure no one was paying them any attention before she took his hand and led him out to the gardens they had once played in together.
“Parents are human too, as I’m sure you know, and humans make mistakes. My parents thought our wealth to be infinite and spent it as such. But business has slowed, and our wealth is gone. My parents threw this ball in the hopes I would find someone wealthy enough to care for me when they cannot. I detest the idea of such a match, but every day we drift closer into debt. I see no other way out,” she confessed.
He stared at her with wide eyes, taking a moment to digest the information. “I see. But why tell me, miss?”
“Because I think my parents are going to try and set us up. I want you to be prepared in case they try and spring it on you, as the fox jumps the rabbit. I’m sure they’re trying to convince your mother of it as we speak.”
His cheeks went from pink to bright red. “They want to- Want us- M-Marry?” he stuttered, voice cracking slightly on the last word.
“Well, I haven’t heard anything, but it is a possibility I thought you should prepare for. I apologize for taking up your time. Please, go back inside and enjoy the ball,” she said, giving him a small curtsy in apology. She gathered up the pink silk of her skirts and quickly walked back inside, her face to warm for her to risk looking back.
The party continued with no incident. She didn’t see either Midoriya again, so Ochako assumed he had taken her warning and left with his mother. She tried to ignore the stabbing pain in her chest at the thought. They were practically strangers at this point after all, there was no warm love for them to base a marriage on. And yet…
She sipped at her glass of water in the hopes of soothing the lump in her throat. At the table was her best friend, Tsuyu Asui and two of her other close friends, Mina and Toru.
“Ochako?” Tsuyu asked, waving a hand in front of her face.
She started. “Oh, so sorry. I was lost in thought.”
Mina leaned in with a too wide grin. “Thoughts about your prince?”
She sputtered. “My what?”
“Oh, you know who I’m talking about. I saw you and Midoriya sneak off to the gardens,” she said, her voice quivering with excitement.
Ochako’s face reddened as the other girls turned to her. “No, no, it’s not what you think! I was only giving him a warning. I’m sure he’s left by now anyway, so it doesn’t really matter,” she said hurriedly. It would do no one any good if rumors were to spread.
Toru raised an eyebrow. “What exactly were you warning him about?”
Her mouth opened and closed as she tried to think of an answer that wouldn’t give away her family’s poor status. Luckily, at that moment, her father stood on a chair and clinked his champagne glass with a spoon. She sighed in relief and quickly made her way to his side.
“Thank you all for coming here today to celebrate my beloved daughter, Ochako, who is more valuable to me than any jewel,” her father began.
Not that we have any more jewels, Ochako thought to herself, making sure her face still kept its smile. It wasn’t hard as her father continued to talk about how much he and her mother loved her and how glad he was to have her. Then the speech took a strange turn.
“I have no doubt that she will continue to be the beautiful, graceful woman she has become today. However, this world is dangerous, especially for lone women. I have long worried about how my daughter will carry on when I am gone and tonight, I am glad to have been able to put my worries to rest.”
The crowd shuffled a bit, and two pairs of hauntingly familiar green eyes came to the front. No, no, no, nonononononoNO-
“Izuku Midoriya has agreed to marry my daughter. When the sun rises on the New Year, we shall celebrate with a wedding!” he yelled, raising his glass in the air.
The crowd cheered, shouting congratulations and shedding tears. The room seemed to tilt as Izuku walked toward her and her stomach turned with it, half-digested food threatening to make its way back up. What had her parents said to make him agree? Had they convinced his mother with promises they couldn’t keep? Everyone knew he would listen to Inko no matter what. If they had convinced her the marriage would be good, then Izuku would feel like he had no choice.
He got down on one knee and held out a ring. The same ring her father had proposed to with her mother twenty years ago. She held out her hand, feeling as if someone else were controlling her arm. A master puppeteer had tied an invisible string around her limp body. There was no other explanation for how she could have possibly moved.
He gulped and slid the ring on her callused finger, holding onto her hand as he got up. She searched his eyes for any kind of anger or resentment. There was an emotion within those green depths, but certainly not one of the aforementioned emotions and not one she could place at all.
They turned to face the crowd, holding hands. The ring sparkled beneath the light of the chandeliers.
Ochako wondered if perhaps she had been cursed at that moment, for throughout the rest of the evening, the silver band felt as if it were burning her.