Work Text:
That morning, the sunlight hadn't quite gathered the courage to enter the room. Only a thin strand of golden light slipped through the curtains, dancing softly across the walls. The air felt warm and calm, as if the world itself wanted to grant them a little more time before everything began.
On the bed, two bodies were tucked beneath a thick blanket. Izuku and Ochako slept in a familiar embrace, as if their bodies already knew each other by heart. Izuku's arm was wrapped around Ochako's waist, his fingers resting sweetly just beneath her ribcage. Meanwhile, Ochako's head nestled in the curve of his shoulder, her breath slow and warm against his neck. Their legs were intertwined, leaving no space at all. As though if one of them moved, the other would instinctively follow.
Izuku shifted slowly, his eyelids fluttering a few times before finally opening fully. Still half asleep, he reached for the clock on the bedside table and glanced at the glowing numbers. It was still too early to be awake. He let out a quiet sigh of relief, then his body instinctively turned to the right.
Ochako was still fast asleep, her expression peaceful and unburdened. Her brown hair was messy in a way that somehow made her look even sweeter. Her lips were slightly parted, and a faint ray of sunlight brushed her cheeks, softening them even more. Izuku froze for a moment, warmth spreading through his chest. He had seen her like this many times, yet every morning still felt like a surprise.
He wanted to keep looking at Ochako, but he knew time wouldn't stay on their side forever. Reluctantly, he loosened his embrace and leaned in, placing a gentle kiss on her temple. The touch was soft, filled with a quiet kind of gratitude that didn't need to be spoken.
Izuku slowly sat up. His feet met the cold floor before he started walking, carefully opening the bedroom door without making a sound. Once the door clicked shut behind him, he ran a hand through his messy hair. A bright smile immediately spread across his face.
The sound of chopped vegetables echoed clearly, bouncing off the kitchen walls still wrapped in the quiet of early morning. The warmth of freshly cooked rice mixed with the scent of simmering vegetables. The kitchen light glowed softly, casting a golden hue that made everything feel familiar and warm.
Izuku stood at the counter. In front of him, several side dishes were already prepared and ready to arrange. He pressed the rice with a wooden spoon, trying to shape it into a cute little character he knew would make Ochako smile. His fingers moved swiftly, yet carefully, as if every grain of rice held its own meaning.
“Hm, why is the rice being a little stubborn today?” he murmured softly, tilting his head. But a second later he let out a short sigh and continued working, sinking back into his little morning routine.
Without warning, a voice came from behind him. “I can't believe you actually woke up before me today.”
Izuku jolted in surprise. Instinctively, the carrot in his hand flew into the air, spun once, and landed right on top of his own head before dropping to the floor. He blinked, rubbing the spot with a wince as his face flushed with embarrassment.
Ochako covered her mouth, torn between laughing or panicking. She quickly stepped closer. “Sorry! Did I scare you?” she asked gently, and without waiting for an answer, she brushed her hand over Izuku's head, her thumb softly sweeping the spot where the carrot had landed.
The touch immediately eased the tension in Izuku's shoulders. He leaned down a little to keep the gentle contact. “Not really,” he murmured, a smile appearing before he could stop it. “I mean, I was just really focused. I didn't notice you waking up.”
Ochako nodded slowly, her eyes narrowing with lingering sleepiness. “So, I see you're busy making a bento.” she said. Izuku glanced at the half finished lunch box, then looked back at her. “Yeah. It's for you.” he said lightly, as if it were the most natural thing in the world. “You've got overtime today, so I figured at the very least your lunch should be good and complete.”
Hearing that, Ochako let out a small sigh and shook her head. “That's not what I meant,” she said with an amused smile. “You already made me a bento the day before yesterday. I wanted to return the favor today.”
Izuku didn't respond right away. Instead, he reached for the hand Ochako was still using to stroke his head, gently wrapping his fingers around hers. A soft smile curved on his lips, his green eyes as tender as ever. “In that case, you can make me a bento tomorrow or the day after.” he said calmly, as if their bento schedule was an important matter that needed to be negotiated properly.
Gently, Izuku turned Ochako's body so she faced out of the kitchen, then gave her back a light tap as a nudge. “For now, you just need to shower and get ready.”
“But—”
“Oh? Do you want to wait until I'm done making the bento so we can shower together?” He raised an eyebrow. “But then we'd both end up late.”
Ochako's face heated up instantly, a pink blush spreading all the way to her ears. She wasn't even sure since when Izuku had suddenly gotten this good at teasing her. And even though the idea of showering together flashed through her mind in a tempting way, she still had work to do. Showing up late for a reason like that was definitely not professional. With her cheeks burning nonstop, Ochako jogged toward the bathroom, leaving Izuku quietly laughing behind her.
A few days later, the atmosphere shifted far from the warmth of their little kitchen.
Days turned into more days, weeks slipped into weeks, and without either of them truly noticing, a gentle habit began to take root between them. No one knew exactly when it started, but lately Izuku had been making Ochako's lunch more and more often.
Every time he woke up earlier, the sound of a knife slicing vegetables or the faint aroma of something being stir fried would drift all the way into the bedroom. Waking Ochako in a way far softer than any alarm ever could.
Of course, Ochako didn't just sit back and accept it. There were days when she was the first to head down to the kitchen to prepare a bento for Izuku. Though in reality, the frequency was still far lower than his. Izuku had always been the kind of man who showed his affection through the smallest things. And lately, that affection most often came in the form of a neatly arranged lunch box he put together with patient care.
But this morning was different. There were no footsteps, no soft sounds of a knife at work, no trace of cooking in the air. That was because the two of them had woken up at the exact same time, both wincing when they glanced at the digital clock on the bedside table. They had overslept. Badly.
Maybe it was understandable, considering the night before. After both of them unexpectedly finished work earlier than scheduled—something that almost never happened—they decided to keep the evening simple: a shower, a change into comfortable clothes, then watching TV together under the same blanket. At first, everything was calm, warm, and relaxed. Until their hands started drifting in ways far too flirtatious to be passed off as coincidence.
A small touch turned into a gentle caress. A caress turned into a subtle pull. And before either of them had the chance to think logically, they were already leaning closer, letting the sofa become their first witness. Soft laughter, quickened breaths, kisses that went a little too deep to be stopped.
Everything unfolded naturally, as if their bodies already knew the sequence by heart. From the living room to the bedroom, from dim lights to a long, intense night. Until eventually, only silence and the sound of their beating hearts remained.
Now, at her agency office, Ochako sat staring blankly at the stack of reports on her desk. Memories from the night before surfaced out of nowhere, like a broken tape replaying the same mischievous scene over and over. Her cheeks and ears warmed instantly, and she quickly lowered her head, wishing the desk would just swallow her whole.
She took a long breath, forcing herself to refocus. Her fingers straightened the report pages in front of her, but she hadn't even begun reading when three soft knocks sounded at her door.
The door opened slightly, and a head peeked through the gap. “Uravity, I'm not interrupting, am I?” she asked hesitantly, the eyes darting quickly between Ochako and the documents on her desk.
A gentle smile bloomed on Ochako's face, automatic as breathing. “Not at all, come in. I was just finishing up a case report.” she replied, her voice warm and reassuring as always.
A junior stepped in carefully, a polite smile on her face. But once she was fully inside, Ochako finally noticed something she hadn't paid attention to earlier, she was carrying something. A cream colored bag, fairly large and sturdy. Ochako’s gaze lingered on it for a moment.
Before her thoughts could form a single theory, the junior suddenly extended the bag toward her. “This is for Uravity.” she said with a smile.
Ochako blinked. “Huh?” She automatically accepted the bag, though her expression clearly asked for more explanation. “For me?” The junior gave a brief shrug. “Someone just dropped it off. Told me to give it to Uravity.” she explained casually, as if it were the most ordinary thing in the world.
Confusion thickened in Ochako's mind. She lowered her gaze, staring at the bag on her lap. “But I didn't order anything.” she murmured softly, more to herself than to the junior. Then she lifted her head again, still searching for answers. “What is this?”
The junior simply let out a small laugh, shaking her head lightly. “I have no idea. But judging from the smell, it must be good.” She pointed at the bag while taking a quick sniff and indeed, a faint savory aroma was slipping out from the zipper.
Only then did Ochako really take in the bag. The material felt thick and cushioned, the kind of fabric usually used to keep food at a stable temperature. The zipper was sturdy, and the outer layer had a slightly glossy texture, almost like a premium delivery bag. And the moment her mind arrived at the conclusion that it was a lunch bag, that faint savory aroma slipped out through the zipper again, tapping lightly against her nose.
Ochako's stomach growled on instinct, loud and shameless. She froze for a split second, praying the junior hadn't heard it.
“Who is this from?” she asked again, her voice quieter this time but carrying a polite, gentle insistence.
The junior immediately looked away, focusing on anything except the person in front of her. “Uh, yeah, it's from... someone.” she said quickly. Ochako grew even more confused. Was she hiding something?
“I'm sorry, Uravity. I have to go, there are a few things I still need to take care of.”
She turned around in a hurry and practically jogged toward the door, as if something urgent was waiting for her outside. But before she could actually leave, she stopped abruptly, then spun back toward Ochako. In one swift motion, she bowed deeply—polite, but still brimming with lively energy.
Then, raising both hands into small confident fists, she said, “Have a great day at work, Uravity!”
And without waiting for a response, she walked out just like that. Closing the door gently behind her and leaving Ochako alone in the room, holding a large lunch bag and staring at it as if it had just fallen from the sky.
Ochako was still confused, but her curiosity finally won. Carefully, she unzipped the insulated bag. A wave of gentle warmth drifted out as she opened it, and the moment the lid lifted fully, her jaw almost dropped.
Inside, several neatly stacked lunch boxes sat in perfect order. The first box held a complete bento: rice topped with sesame seeds, crispy karaage still glistening slightly, a mix of sauteed vegetables, and thick slices of tamagoyaki arranged with care. The next box was filled with fresh fruit—strawberries, grapes, and kiwi—so neatly arranged it looked like a store display. And what made her eyes widen even more was a small container holding her favorite, mochi. Soft mochi dusted with a light coating of sugar, still slightly dewy from the insulated bag's temperature.
Ochako gaped. She didn’t even realize her mouth had fallen slightly open, that’s how shocked she was by the sheer amount of food prepared for her. Only then did her phone chime, breaking the silence. Ochako quickly grabbed it to check the notification.
“Don't just stare at it. Start eating.” —Izuku
“Eh?” she murmured under her breath, her fingers still wrapped around her phone. She looked at the screen, then at the lunch bag on her lap. Ochako's brows furrowed. She definitely hadn't touched anything yet and now Izuku was texting her like he knew exactly what she was doing.
Slowly, Ochako lifted her gaze from her phone. Something at the edge of her vision caught her attention, a shadow shifting behind the glass of her office window. Not clearly, just a dark shape that appeared and disappeared again.
She swallowed. The room, which had felt normal a minute ago, suddenly felt like the set of a low budget horror movie, way too quiet. Very carefully, she turned her head. Her movements were slow, almost like she was afraid whatever was lurking would bolt if she moved too fast. And the moment her face fully faced the window—
“Hyaa!”
Outside the glass, Izuku was crouched down, wearing that soft, unmistakably-him smile, his eyes curved with pure happiness. He lifted one hand and gave her a tiny wave, as if showing up at his girlfriend's office window was the most normal thing in the world.
Ochako stayed frozen in place, still not fully recovered from the previous shock. Izuku had suddenly appeared at her window, standing on the outer ledge of the building with his full hero armor catching the midday light. The sight was both bizarre and ridiculously cute.
Her senses finally came back, nudging her to slowly rise from her chair. She left the lunch bag on her desk and began walking toward the window—hesitant, but pulled forward by sheer curiosity.
But before she could take another step forward, Izuku suddenly waved both hands in a frantic motion. The friendly smile he had a second ago vanished instantly, replaced by a hilariously panicked expression.
Ochako froze mid step. She raised a brow, confused by his sudden shift. Meanwhile, Izuku was already typing on his phone at a speed that made his thumbs practically blur. The moment he finished, Ochako's phone, still sitting on her desk—buzzed.
She glanced over, picked it up, and the screen lit up with a message from Izuku:
“There's a gossip show paparazzi crew right below. Horrifying. Stay right there, don't come over.”
When she looked back at the window, Izuku was already nodding earnestly. So seriously that it crossed the line into being unintentionally adorable. Ochako tried to hold in her laughter and failed miserably. The mental image of Izuku being chased around by gossip show reporters, the kind notorious for crafting the most dramatic clickbait about heroes, was so absurd she nearly burst out laughing twice.
Outside, Izuku smiled at her reaction. Then he lifted a hand and made a simple gesture: pretending to scoop food into his mouth, clearly telling her to eat. Ochako responded with a firm nod and two enthusiastic thumbs up, her wide grin spreading without her even trying.
Izuku locked his phone and straightened up, adjusting the armor on his arm like he was getting ready to launch into action.
But before he could move, Izuku did something that made Ochako freeze.
He pressed his hand gently against the fogged-up window. First, his pinky lifted on its own, forming a tiny “I” Then his index finger and thumb shifted, shaping a small “L” And finally, his thumb and pinky curved in a simple “U”
No sound, no words—just “I Love U” written straight into her heart.
Realizing just how bold that was, Izuku immediately ducked his head, his ears turning red all the way to the tips. He hastily turned the gesture into a normal wave, pretending nothing happened, before spinning around and darting away from the glass.
Ochako remained frozen in place, stunned by what Izuku had just done. She knew exactly what that gesture meant, and because she knew, her brain simply stopped functioning for a moment. Slowly, a flush crept up her cheeks. Her hands shot up on their own, cupping her burning face. Without her even realizing it, her quirk activated; her body lifted a few centimeters off the floor, then hovered near the office ceiling like a balloon released by accident.
How was she supposed to live a normal life when Izuku kept acting like the perfect boyfriend straight out of the romance dramas she usually watched on her days off?
She was still floating with a face as red as a tomato when her eyes dropped to something below. On her desk, the lunch bag sat wide open, showing stacks of warm bento and her favorite mochi as if they, too, were smiling up at her.
Oh. Right.
Now her biggest problem wasn't just her heart threatening to give up on her. It was figuring out how to finish all that food when she was already full from Izuku's overwhelming sweetness.
***
Soft little footsteps echoed gently—rhythmic, relaxed, and somehow warmer than usual. The path they walked was still quiet, but not completely silent. There were faint footsteps from others, distant PA announcements blending into the background, and a light morning breeze that hadn't yet carried the weight of the day's busyness.
Izuku glanced down at Ochako walking beside him. “Personal meds?” he asked suddenly, his tone casual, like he was just checking.
Ochako didn't look up. Her eyes stayed glued to her phone screen, thumbs still typing. “Check.” she replied shortly.
Izuku nodded, though the answer came way too fast and way too automatic. He sneaked a glance her way, Ochako looked so focused she didn't notice the suspicious look he sent her.
“Phone charger?” Izuku continued, this time leaning in a little to catch her expression better.
Still without lifting her head, Ochako replied, “Check.”
Izuku blinked. A small smile tugged at his lips. Of course he noticed, Ochako hadn't even really listened to his question. She was just responding out of habit. He stifled a laugh as her face shifted into a mock serious expression. Her right hand came up to press her chin, eyebrows furrowed as if she were contemplating something absolutely crucial to her survival.
A few seconds of silence. Then, a mischievous idea slipped in. His cheeks warmed. He felt it. But the temptation was too good to pass up.
“Then…” Izuku matched her pace, glancing at her from the corner of his eye. “A goodbye kiss?”
“Che—”
Before Ochako could even finish her sentence, she spun around at an incredible speed. Her eyes went wide, almost popping out, and her face flushed instantly. Even the phone in her hand nearly slipped from the sudden shock.
“Deku!”
Izuku couldn't hold it in any longer. Laughter burst from his mouth—warm, wide, and utterly satisfied. He bent over slightly, clutching his stomach, trying to stifle the sound so it wouldn't draw attention.
Ochako stood frozen, pouting with her cheeks bright red, lips puffed out like a little kid being teased. “I-it's not funny...” she muttered, annoyed, though her voice was far too soft and shaky to sound threatening.
Izuku finally stopped laughing, took a breath, and rubbed the back of his neck with an expression of mild apology that didn't quite hide his smile. “Sorry. It's just, you've been so serious this whole time. Not even glancing my way.”
Ochako huffed softly. Still pouting, she pressed a button on her phone and closed the app. “I was talking to Tsuyu.” The complaint came out clear but tinged with embarrassment. Then she slipped her phone into her pocket.
“Oh?” Izuku looked at her again, his tone softening. “Tsuyu?”
“Mm.” Ochako nodded, her shoulders relaxing slightly. “She said she's already there. Told me to let her know when I arrive so she can pick me up.”
Izuku finally nodded in understanding. And with that, the moment slowly settled back into normalcy. Ochako would be leaving today. A quirk counseling program out of town. Three days. Not the first time, and not really a big deal. Both Izuku and Ochako often traveled for work. Yet strangely, every time one of them had to leave, there was always a little moment like this, a moment when time seemed to slow down just a bit.
Izuku slipped one hand into his pocket. His smile was soft, warm, steady, full of understanding. “That's good, then. At least there's someone always with you there.” He tilted his head slightly. “Make sure to say hi to Tsuyu for me when you get there.”
Ochako finally smiled. A small, shy smile, but sincere. The flustered heat that had burned her cheeks earlier began to fade slowly.
Time passed faster than expected. Their steps gradually slowed as a faint announcement echoed through the area. Ochako gripped Izuku's hand, still intertwined with hers—tight, strong, as if unwilling to let go. Then, in a soft breath, she said, “I have to go.”
Izuku returned the squeeze just as firmly. “Yeah.” But then he added, in a slightly mysterious tone, “Though it seems like you're missing something.”
Izuku slowly released their handhold. He reached for the yellow bag he had been carrying over his shoulder. With careful movements, he unzipped it, his fingers gliding inside as if searching for something. Ochako instinctively leaned forward slightly, her eyebrows rising. As far as she knew, all her essentials were already complete. Nothing was missing, and there hadn't been any mention of something she needed to find.
Finally, Izuku pulled out the item that had been hidden inside the yellow bag all along. “Here.” he said, handing it over to Ochako.
Ochako's eyes immediately widened. The box. She knew the design well. With similar details, only this one was slightly smaller. No doubt about it. It was a bento. Just like the one she had discovered at her office yesterday.
“Seriously? Bento?” she murmured, almost a whisper, but the surprise was clear on her face.
Izuku just gave a simple, innocent smile at her reaction, as if he didn't understand why she was so surprised. “Ochako, you can eat this there during your break.” he said gently, holding the box steady so she could take it. “And please finish it later, okay? The egg has meat in it, it could spoil if left too long.”
Ochako just shook her head slightly, her breath trembling a little. “Deku, you've made me bento way too many times already. Please don't overdo it. I don't want to trouble you.”
Izuku heard her and smiled warm, a smile that made Ochako's shoulders feel a little lighter. “Since I knew you tend to skip meals when you're busy,” he began, his voice like a warm blanket on a cold morning, “I made up my mind to make you bento. So you don't have to fuss about buying food, and you can still eat something healthy and delicious.” He added in a soft teasing tone, “Besides, I make them for myself too. It's no trouble at all.”
Hearing that, Ochako's eyes welled up. Not with sadness, but with something overflowing that she couldn't hold back. She finally took the lunch box from Izuku's hands, hugging it tightly to her chest as if it were the most precious thing that day. “Okay, I'll finish it later.”
Izuku beamed, a smile so genuine that Ochako almost felt her knees go weak. He lifted a hand and gently stroked her head. A simple gesture, yet it made Ochako's heart skip a little.
“Next time...” Ochako took a deep breath, “I'll make bento for you too, Deku.” Izuku immediately lifted his face, eyes wide with excitement. “Yes! Let's make them together!”
Ochako could only smile shyly, glancing at the watch on her wrist. Reality had finally caught up with them. She looked at Izuku once more—long, as if trying to store the moment in her memory. “I guess it's time for me to go.”
Izuku stroked her head one more time before stepping back slightly. His smile was gentle, full of understanding. “Alright. Be careful on the way, and see you in three days.” Ochako nodded, smiling, then stepped back while waving. Izuku returned the wave in kind.
She had walked a fair distance when suddenly her steps stopped. Izuku, still watching her from behind, tensed immediately. Had she forgotten something?
Ochako slowly turned around. Not hurriedly, not panicked, more like someone who had just made a small but important decision. She walked back toward Izuku, her steps light but confident. Eventually, she stopped right in front of him.
Izuku hadn't even opened his mouth when Ochako lifted her hand. Her index finger touched her own lips first—a brief, intimate gesture, before moving closer. And before Izuku could process anything, that finger gently pressed against his lips. Soft. Warm.
Ochako smiled, her cheeks flushed and whispered, sweetly and teasingly at the same time.
“Check.”
Then she pulled her hand back, turned around, waved her tiny, almost shy hand, and scurried away. Leaving Izuku frozen in place, face bright red, heart racing out of control.
Even now, Ochako's steps hadn't completely faded, yet Izuku already felt like someone who would have to wait three months instead of three days. And that he might need a tent, a blanket, and extra snacks just to survive.
Truly, a poor guy.
Bonus
Izuku had just stepped into the UA teacher room and set his work bag on the chair beside him. He sat down, stacking several report documents in front of him, then began organizing them with focus, until a notification on his phone caught his attention. Reflexively, he grabbed the device, and the moment he saw the sender, his face lit up. Ochako.
The phone screen displayed three photos she had sent in quick succession. Izuku stared, starting off calm, but then his eyes began to widen.
The first photo showed Ochako forming the letter “I” with her pinky. The second, her index finger and thumb shaped into an “L” The last one, her thumb and pinky created a “U” Each of Ochako's smiles in the photos was sweet and utterly adorable.
She had copied the same pose she had made when she appeared at his agency window before—the “I Love U” sign.
Izuku stared, his mouth falling open without realizing it. His cheeks immediately burned, his face turning as red as a ripe summer tomato. His heart pounded like a drum, and his breath caught in his throat.
“Ah, the joys of youth.”
Suddenly, without warning, Present Mic appeared behind him. In a voice both soft and dramatic, as if staring far into the past with a bittersweet smile, he began contemplating his fate after nearly half a century of life.
Truly, two poor guys.