Work Text:
When she got the first letter, she was barely three months into her Pro-Hero career. It was left on her patrol route, but more importantly it was placed exactly on the path she takes; the rooftop of the tallest building near a busy open-market, providing her a great view of the next few streets. It rested on a velvet pillow, red rose petals scattered around it, two lit candles filling the air with the scent of pomegranates; she hesitated taking it, clearly she had a stalker, and she didn’t want to engage, nor encourage whatever sick fantasy they were trying to play out. However, Ochako has always been foolishly curious, and that voice within her mind was able to drown out any common sense; she tucked the letter away into her belt, blew out the candles, and continued her patrol.
She had almost forgotten about the letter after having to deal with a robbery, and then helped with clearing the debris of a car crash - almost. The envelope itself is a plain white, her hero name written out in bright red ink, the penmanship cutely curls and loops, the i dotted with a heart. Breaking the sticker heart that sealed it, she pulled out a light pink paper, a faint floral scent on it, and signed with a bloody heart.
Haunting me like a nightmare,
You pin me down with that stare,
Did you notice me from all the way up there?
Shadows chase after you,
From them I stalk you,
Wishing I could fly like you.
What do you see in the sky?
Every little bird,
Every little cloud,
Every little star.
I wish you could see me among them.
I’m left here with my arms stretched out,
Begging to hold the moon,
Pleading to know you.
But that won’t come true,
Darkness like me,
Is banished by the light of you.
It wasn’t what Ochako had expected - shockingly good, and vulnerable; usually the horror stories about receiving a letter from a stalker was that they wrote something creepy, threatening, or both. However, whoever this was, had a clear mind, or perhaps a sensitive soul, as they called themselves darkness - evil. Maybe that’s what made her keep the poem, carefully folding it back up into its envelope, and hiding it away in her nightstand.
Then nothing happened, much to Ochako’s surprise. She didn’t get another letter the next day - though the little set up was gone - and Ochako never noticed anything odd throughout her work day. It was like her stalker had said - she is the light that keeps them at bay...and strangely, she didn’t find those words to be flattering.
So, life went on; this event acting as nothing more than a weird bump in her normally smooth routine. Ochako totally forgot all about it after...a week, and she definitely didn’t reread the poem within that time. Nope, not her - not Uravity, who shouldn’t be thinking about her stalker and worrying about them - nope! Everything was fine and dandy, she kept on with her patrols, responding to emergencies, and smiling to the masses.
Until another envelope showed up - at her apartment, a month later; she opened it without a second of hesitation.
I hunger for something I cannot have,
For something better than myself,
Something pure and sweet.
They call it blood,
I call it love.
Am I truly so monstrous,
For wanting so much fondness?
Perhaps I am,
But I simply am,
Not like the rest of you.
Inhuman,
Demon,
Monster.
Will you call me the same?
Or will you know me by my name?
She tucks it away into her nightstand, her heart thundering - desiring for more; an unignorable need to know who this was. They sounded so...sad, and Ochako hated the thought. However, just as with the first poem, nothing appeared the next day, nor the next, and the day after that. Each morning she rose with hope in her chest, only for it to vanish when she found nothing waiting for her, and her mood only darkened as a week flew by.
So, imagine her surprise when one morning two weeks later, she woke up to her window wide open - a bouquet of red roses laying on the windowsill, an envelope held between their thorny stems. She should have been scared - horrified at the thought of the stalker breaking into her home, but she only felt a rush of exhilaration.
I dream of you,
Endless night skies,
Floating to heaven in your arms.
I want to be a sparrow,
Living in your ribcage,
Kept safe and warm in your embrace.
If I held out my hand,
Would you take it?
Forget heroes and villains,
Right and wrong,
Angels and devils.
If I were to appear in the dark,
Ready to steal you away,
Would you take my hand?
Ochako put the roses in a vase, settling them in the windowsill for the world to see - for her stalker to see; though she hates calling them that, even if it is true, she much prefers secret admirer. She can’t help it - the big, bleeding heart she has for people, wanting everyone to be happy, even if they are labeled as criminals. She does her best to keep the roses alive for as long as she can, but Ochako has never had a green thumb before; they woefully withered away after five days.
Luckily though, that wouldn’t be the first time she got flowers from her secret admirer.
After that, there is an uptick in the frequency of poems and gifts. For months - for a year - Ochako is showered in affection from a mysterious person, though she did learn little things behind the poetry.
For starters, her admirer is a woman - she hadn’t wanted to assume from the girly penmanship, but her guess was confirmed when her admirer referred to herself as a woman in a later poem in early October. Her admirer was also romantically morbid, often painting bloody or gory imagery in her poetry with a rotted softness that comes from her love. She likes birds, and autumn, and knives - she wants to hold hands, and walk along the beach at night. She wants to enjoy the rain with someone, run through puddles; she wants to stay up late baking sweets and watching movies. Her admirer has never had her first kiss, and badly wants to share it with Ochako.
Honestly, Ochako didn’t realize how full her apartment became with tokens from her secret admirer until right here, right now, as Izuku looks around her living room with a small frown, “do you have a girlfriend, Ochako?”
Ochako startles, accidentally activating her Quirk on the tea kettle as she whips around, “huh?! N-no, why are you suddenly asking that?”
For his answer, he simply points to the vase with the lovely bouquet of white lilies and red roses resting atop her coffee table, “unless Shouto decided to give out themed flowers, I see no other reason as to why you would have these.”
“That’s not true! Maybe I got those for myself, ya know, practicing self-love.”
Izuku raises an eyebrow, “that shelf of books is also new, and those little porcelain cats, and is that a bird skull-”
“OKAY!” Ochako shouts, slapping her hands together, and the tea kettle clatters to the floor, “I do not have a girlfriend, simple as that, just a...an admirer, that’s it.”
“Oh!” Izuku lights up with a big smile, “that’s great Ochako, how long has this been going on? Are you interested in her? Do you plan on asking her out? Does Tsu-chan know? Will Tenya and I be meeting her anytime-”
“Stop stop stop,” Ochako hisses, rushing at him to smack a hand over his mouth, “too many questions!” She huffs out a sigh as she pulls away her hand, “it’s been going on for...awhile - and yes I’m interested in her, I don’t know if I want to ask her out, of course Tsu knows, and if god willing, no, you two will never meet her.”
“What?! Come on Ochako, Tenya and I aren’t that bad, right?...Right?!”
The rest of the afternoon was filled with banter and teasing, her smile warm and her laughter strong, but at the back of her mind, Izuku’s questions itched at her. Did she really want to meet her admirer? It was a thought she has had a few times throughout the year, but not one that stayed very long, nor one she gave a concrete answer to. However, now she can’t stop a rising desire - a hunger to place a face to all these words and flowers and objects.
So, Ochako does something brave - something reckless, but something her admirer has been begging for. She reaches out a hand - her window left wide open, with a little slip of paper weighed down by one of the many pretty stones her admirer has given her.
Can we meet? I want to know you.
Ochako waited with a held breath. She tried to sleep, usually passing out the moment she closes her eyes, however, she can’t stop herself from worrying if her admirer will even show tonight. What if this scares her away? Ochako hopes it doesn’t, after-all this is what she wants, right? Her admirer seemingly has been dying for the day Ochako finally called-
The click of a tongue, a soft giggle drifting through the room like a cool breeze - and then a voice, high-pitched and raspy, lovingly coos out to Ochako’s back, “oh, haven’t your parents ever told you, Ochako-chan, that you shouldn’t invite dark spirits into your home.”
She knows that voice - oh god does she know that voice. Slowly, Ochako rolls around, and right there in the darkness of a moonless night, a familiar pair of yellow eyes peers at her. Slender hands hook around the frame of the window, a leg slips in - bare thigh exposed by the short skirt the young woman wears. A head of straw-colored hair pulled back in a long braid ducks under the windowpane as she pushes her body inside, landing on quiet feet besides a faint breath huffed out in annoyance. And there, standing to her full height as she brushes out her maroon skirt and dusts off her white button up, is Toga Himiko.
A well-known vigilante in the Hero Network for her brutal takedowns of human trafficking and child predators; however, most importantly as of last year - she is Uravity’s arch-nemesis, as Himiko has so proudly claimed.
Himiko smiles - big and wide to show off her sharp canines and bicuspids, but...something is off about it...It doesn’t reach her eyes, there is no spark in that dazzlingly cat-like stare Ochako is so used to seeing when they fight. The blonde reaches behind her, and when she brings her hand back into view there is an envelope pinched between her index and middle finger.
“Well, I suppose this is my last little love poem to you...if you still want it.”
Those words jolted enough sense into Ochako for her to choke out two words, “last...one?”
Himiko’s gaze moves away from her, scanning the bedroom with an ever-dimming smile, “we’re enemies, I imagine you’re quite disgusted at the thought, that all this time, it was me sending you these.”
“You...you’re wrong.”
Those sharp eyes snap toward her, Himiko tilting her head slightly, her smile finally melting away into a frown, “am I, Uravity? I don’t see how I can be.” Himiko takes measured steps toward the bed, her gaze heavy with cautious, “I’m a murderer - a deviant, I have never felt any remorse for those I have drunk dried...What do you have to say to that? Surely nothing good.”
Ochako inhales slowly, her eyes closing, “you’re right, I have nothing good to say about that,” and then she smiles, her eyes opening as she beams up at Himiko, “mainly because I don’t really care.”
“...Hu-huh?” Himiko clearly wasn’t expecting that, an adorable blush washing over the paleness of her cheeks, “wa-wait, you’re not supposed to say that! You-you should be angry, and-and screaming at me to get out!”
Ochako sits up, shaking her head, ignoring the heat that blooms in her face, “actually, if you don’t mind, I’d like you to stay...I’ve wanted to know you for a whole year now...Himiko.”
Himiko sputters, her whole face bursting into a red hue, “you-you...you’re just messing with me!”
“Want to prove me wrong?”
All at once, Himiko shrinks in on herself, her eyes going wide and blinking owlishly as she squeaks out a small, “excuse me?”
Ochako throws back her blanket, calmly climbs out of bed, and despite Himiko being taller, Ochako feels like in this moment she towers over the blonde as she closes the distance between them, “I said - prove me wrong.”
Himiko’s eyes darted all over Ochako, and then quickly to the side - toward the door; oh no, that was not happening. Before Himiko could even twitch, Ochako slaps her hand against the bare skin of the blonde’s thigh, a flash of pink light accompanying the ringing smack of flesh meeting flesh. She’s actually never been able to get a clean hit on Himiko before, so she can't help but enjoy the sight of the vigilante floating up toward the ceiling, her arms flailing as she shrieks at Ochako, “put me down!”
With her panicked movements, the envelope goes sailing out of Himiko’s grip, further adding onto her distress as she uselessly reaches out while it flutters to the floor, “no no no no! Wait, please don’t read it, no-not in front of me at least!”
“Oh? Are you embarrassed, Himiko?” Ochako questions, picking up the envelope with a small smirk.
“No!” Himiko squeals, “and stop using my name!”
Ochako causally tears away the heart sticker, “why? I remember that in a few of your poems that you wanted me to call you by your name, and besides, I already use your name when we fight.”
“Yeah, my last name, this is totally different!”
Ochako pauses when she feels a light weight bump into her back, arms wrapping around her own to try to stop her from opening the envelope. She glances over her shoulder, and her nose brushes against Himiko’s; they freeze as they stare at one another, both of them now terrified of moving. This close up, Ochako can see every little detail of Himiko’s irises, the different shades of yellow that mix together to make them shine like gold; she watches in fascination as those slitted pupils push outward, rounding out into circles that leave a thin band around them - like an eclipse.
“You were...never supposed to like me,” Himiko whispers, her mouth so close that her breath fans over Ochako’s lips.
Ochako tosses the envelope aside, her hands coming up to pry Himiko’s arms off of her, but only briefly. She turns to fully face her, bringing Himiko’s arms around her neck, and then looping her own around the blonde’s waist; pressing Himiko flush to her body as she walks backward to her bed.
“I shouldn’t - I really shouldn’t,” Ochako mutters, “any sane person in my shoes would have called the police on you.”
She twists around fast, shoving Himiko down onto her bed, and pinning her there with her hips; she puts her fingertips together, returning the blonde’s gravity with a flash of pink light. Her eyes trail over Himiko, soaking up every little detail of her former arch-nemesis; the way her chest heaves, her pretty pink lips parted in surprise, those eyes glowing in the gloom of her bedroom.
“However, I’m obsessed with my stalker,” Ochako grabs Himiko’s wrists lightning fast, and yanks her arms above her head, “and I want to pick her apart, inch by inch, until I know her inside and out.”