Chapter Text
Ochako shifted her canvas bag higher on her shoulder and knocked on the apartment door again.
Nothing.
Was he home? Maybe she assumed wrong…
She stood outside of Izuku Midoriya’s apartment, after taking the initiative to travel over after he had been silent in their friends’ group chat for two days. His last message had been “just a little under the weather, nothing to worry about!” Everyone knew that was Deku-speak for “I’m probably dying but don’t want to worry anyone.”
Her knuckles hovered over the door for a third knock. Was this too much? They’d only been… whatever they were… for a few weeks. Three weeks and four days, not that she was counting. They’d been on actual dates—coffee that turned into a mochi stop, a walk through the park that lasted until the streetlights came on—but they hadn’t really defined anything yet. She didn’t have a key. She’d never even been inside his place.
Showing up uninvited with ingredients to make homemade soup and cold medicine might be extremely girlfriend-coded behavior for a relationship that had not been labeled yet.
Her phone buzzed. The group chat.
Iida: Has anyone heard from Midoriya today?
Todoroki: No.
Tsuyu: Ochako-chan, didn’t you say you might check on him? ribbit
Ochako’s cheeks warmed. She’d mentioned it. Casually. Very casually. In a “maybe I’ll swing by since I’m in the area” kind of way, except she’d taken two trains to get here and everyone definitely knew it.
Mina: GO GET YOUR MAN, OCHAKO 💕
Okay. Decision made by committee.
She knocked harder.
“Deku? It’s me. Uraraka. Are you—”
The door cracked open and Ochako was greeted by the sight of a pair of droopy green
eyes and messier than usual green hair.
“…Uraraka?” Izuku muttered out, his voice clearly showing his congested state, “Uh. I’m sorry, I wasn’t expecting you.”
Of course he was apologizing for being sick.
Ochako smiled—not the bright, everything’s-fine smile she’d worn like armor in high school. Her natural one.
“Hey Deku. I wanted to check on you. You were quiet in our chat, and I wanted to make sure you were okay.” She shifted her bag. “I know when I’m feeling under the weather, nothing is better than dumpling soup.”
Izuku blinked. Once. Twice. Her words seemed to take the long route to his brain. “A-ah. Thank you.” He glanced behind him, grimacing. “My place is a bit of a disaster right now…” He added nasally.
Ochako’s smile never wavered. “It’s no problem! Can I come in?” She tried not to stare at the flush creeping down his neck, and the way he was listing to one side. “Maybe I can help?”
He paused for a second, and she wondered for a split second if she was going too far with this, before he shuffled back and opened the door for her to come in. Ochako walked over the threshold, placing her bag down for a moment as she took off her shoes and placed them next to his. She straightened herself before looking to Izuku. Now inside, she could see he was wearing his plain “shirt” labeled top and baggy, soft pants. She also took note of his redder than normal face.
“You look like you’re feeling warm, Deku. Have you taken any medicine yet?”
Izuku glanced down at his feet, which Ochako took as a physical no to her question. “I ran out. Mom is out of town.”
Ochako nodded. “How about you go sit down and I’ll bring you some?”
He looked up at her and gave a slight nod before trudging down his hallway. She followed after him as she glanced around, getting a lay of the land.
This apartment had Izuku written all over it. It was neat, besides some discarded tissues she had seen that had missed the garbage basket. She noticed several hero photos framed in his home, notably a recent photo of him and his mentor, All Might in front of U.A.
Weak afternoon sunlight filtered through half-drawn blinds, casting the apartment in a sleepy, golden haze.
She followed him into what appeared to be his living area, where he had a large All Might fleece blanket on his couch.. where he collapsed with a soft groan.
She walked over quickly, hand already reaching out—but he was just exhausted, head lolling against the couch back, eyes half-closed. She turned her extended hand over and placed it against his forehead.. then frowned with concern.
“Deku, you’re burning up! I’ll be right back.”
She heard him mumble something that might’ve been ‘thank you’ or might’ve been ‘sorry’ or might’ve just been congested nonsense.
She quickly made her way over to his table, organizing and shuffling some of his things to the side. She mentally noted his laptop was off but open with some papers to the side—of course he’d been trying to work through this.
She made room for her bag and put it down, pulling out the medicine she bought and heading to the kitchen to measure it out. She also looked through his cabinets and found his drinking glasses, and got him some water as well.
“Here we go.” She said as she walked back over to him with the medicine and water. Her anxious energy had melted away, allowing her focus on Izuku. “Take this, it should help you feel better.”
“Thanks ‘raka.” He mumbled, taking the medicine from her, downing it in one go. He tried to hide his grimace at the taste and failed completely—she caught the little nose scrunch before he chased it with water. Her heart warmed as he let out a contented sigh.
“When did you last eat?” She asked him, noting a couple of tea cups on his coffee table. No plates.
“Uh…” He sniffled. “..does tea count?”
She smiled. Even feverish and congested, with that confused little furrow between his brows, he was unfairly cute. “No.”
“..I can’t remember?” He answered with his own question. Ochako nodded.
“You stay here and rest. I’ll get started on some soup.” She directed and walked back towards his table, grabbing her bag of ingredients and took it into his kitchen.
She studied her surroundings, starting to open cabinets to familiarize herself with the layout and where his pots, pans and dishes were. She took the ingredients she had bought from the store and placed them on his countertop. She started to look for his cutting board when she glanced up to see him turned around, staring at her from the back of his couch.
“You sure I can’t help? You don’t have to do this…” He murmured from his spot.
“I want to.” She confirmed positively before going back to her search. She found the cutting board tucked behind a rice cooker and pulled it out with a small sound of triumph. She then started chopping the vegetables she’d bought at the market—carrots first, the rhythmic thunk of the knife somehow soothing.
She noticed Izuku had shifted on the couch, turning so he could watch her over the back cushions. He’d draped his All Might blanket around his shoulders, but his posture was still alert—ready to jump up the second she needed something.
“I’ve got this, Deku. Relax.” She reassured him, and she saw his posture soften as he allowed himself to lean back into his couch.
She found his soup pot and put it on top of his rather clean stovetop. The only other thing on top was a kettle, further proof Izuku hadn’t eaten anything of substance lately.
She started adding the ingredients in, the broth, seasoning and chopped vegetables before turning on the heat. She set a timer before heading back to Izuku, sitting on a chair besides him. “How long have you been feeling this way?”
He had continued to watch her walk back to the chair. After she had asked, he hummed, gaze drifting to the ceiling as he thought.
“I started feeling off a few days ago.” He started, “one of my students, Kenji, had been coughing so I figured it was just a cold.” He sniffled. “I hope he’s okay. I haven’t been to school for a couple of days. Aizawa’s going to…”
”…understand you’re sick and need time off.” She softened her voice. “He’s not going to be mad at you for being human, Deku.” She knew their old teacher. As strict as he was, he still cared for his students and would not want them feeling worse by pushing themselves.
“I know, I just…” He mumbled, seemingly getting lost in his thoughts. Some things never change, she noted. His eyes seemed like they were getting heavier as he continued, “Kenji needs… the homework from…”
His eyes closed, and his words had gone from less coherent to silence.
He took another couple of breaths, and she realized he had fallen asleep.
She smiled as she stood up and readjusted his blanket over him so he was fully covered.
“Get some sleep. I’ll be here when you wake up.” She softly reassured him.
Ochako headed back to the kitchen to get started on the dumplings. Now that Izuku was asleep, her urgency melted. She could actually take in his space—the late afternoon light through his windows, the faint scent of the tea he’d been surviving on.
Despite being a bachelor living alone, his pantry was surprisingly well-stocked—actual spices, multiple types of rice, ingredients that suggested he cooked real meals.
She paused at his refrigerator, taking in the photo he had stuck on with a chibi Uravity magnet. It was them, together, from one of their first dates. They had met at an amusement park, and had enjoyed riding multiple rides together. It was a selfie she’d almost forgotten about, where they were sharing a crepe together.
Ochako’s cheeks warmed. She’d had whipped cream on her nose and hadn’t even noticed up to that point. But Izuku clearly hadn’t cared—his expression was pure joy, green eyes sparkling. This happiness was well-deserved. After everything he’d given, everything he’d sacrificed—seeing him just relax and have fun made her heart squeeze.
Ochako got back to work, washing her hands before she mixed the dough—flour, eggs, a pinch of salt. She cut the dough into bit-size pieces before dropping them into the simmering broth. She hummed a familiar tune as she worked; stirring the pot, using a clean spoon to taste the broth, and adjusted the seasoning with a pinch of thyme.
Not too much. When you were sick—especially with what Izuku was fighting—the soup should be comforting. Mild. Warm and savory, not complex.
Steam curled up from the pot, carrying the savory scent of broth and herbs through the apartment.
She set a timer, and then went back to her chair next to her resting.. back to Izuku.
She watched him for a moment. His breathing had evened out, the tension finally gone from his shoulders. While he still had a pink tint to his cheeks, they had calmed down from the alarming flush she’d seen when he first opened the door.
She thought back to his laptop and papers and sighed. He really overdid himself sometimes. She knew what it was like—trying to do your best for everyone, pushing until your body forced you to stop.
She’d have to talk to him about that.
Ochako pulled out her phone, remembering their group chat conversation and quickly typed in her response.
Ochako: Deku has medicine and is resting. 👍
She knew what it felt like wondering if someone you cared about was okay. She had to reassure their friends everything was okay.
Ochako quickly silenced her phone before the onslaught of replies came, then put it away as she closed her eyes, processing her thoughts.
This felt so surreal. Being in Izuku’s apartment. If she was her high school self, she’d be literally floating on air.
The feelings she had felt for him back then had only continued to grow into adulthood. Even after they parted ways, she’d focused on her quirk counseling program, helping children navigate their powers, while he’d returned to UA to teach... the feeling stayed. It was wonderful to spend time with him at their occasional Class 1-A reunion, however she chose to keep her feelings to herself, knowing his drive and passion to help others. She put her energy into helping the heroes of tomorrow with their quirks, no matter how the world viewed them.
So when Izuku approached her weeks ago after they had worked together with their old classmates to take down villains, sharing his desire for more between them.. and felt Himiko’s blessing, her final push toward the happiness she’d wanted for them both, it felt like a dream come true.
These last few weeks felt like such a gift.
Sitting here in his apartment, taking care of him—it felt right. Natural. Like something she was meant to do.
She opened her eyes, letting herself just watch him sleep for a moment—
Then she saw him open his mouth, his eyebrows furrowed.
“‘Chako.” He gasped. “Don’t go.”
Her heart squeezed. Without hesitation, she reached out and took his hand—warm, slightly clammy from the fever. “I’m here,” she murmured. “I’m right here.”
His expression softened, the furrow smoothing from his brow. His fingers curled weakly around hers. His breathing steadied, settling back into the slow, even rhythm of sleep.
Ochako’s heart burned as she stared at their intertwined hands. They’d held hands plenty of times since that evening weeks ago when they’d finally admitted their feelings. But something about him calling for her like this—vulnerable, fever-dreaming, afraid she’d leave—made her heart pound.
She positioned herself so she could continue to hold his hand, reassuring him she wasn’t going anywhere while she got comfortable.
Some time had passed.
Izuku stirred, nose twitching at the savory smell filling his apartment. His eyes blinked open slowly—still glassy with fever but more aware than before. His gaze drifted down to their joined hands.
“Oh.” His voice was rough from sleep and congestion. A flush crept up his neck that had nothing to do with his fever. “I… sorry, did I…?”
“You were restless,” Ochako said softly, not pulling away yet. “I didn’t want you to worry.”
His fingers tightened slightly around hers—just for a second—before he seemed to remember himself. He let go, but slowly. “Thank you.” The words came out quieter than a whisper.
She smiled warmly at him and stood up, stretching slightly to relieve her body from sitting in that position. “Soup should be ready soon. I’ll go check on it.”
She walked back toward the kitchen, feeling his eyes follow her. Her hand still tingled where he’d held it.
She recalled where she had seen his bowls, pulling two out and placing them on the counter. She looked at the timer and turned it off. A minute earlier wouldn’t hurt.
“It smells delicious. Can I help?”
Ochako almost jumped and turned her head, looking at Izuku who leaned against the kitchen doorway. She took him in as her heart settled. Still rumpled—hair going every direction, the All Might blanket trailing behind him—but his eyes had more focus now. The feverish red had calmed to a gentle flush across his scarred and freckled cheeks. Tired, yes, but better. So much better.
She shook her head. “It’s ready! Do you think you can sit at the table? I’d bring it to you on the couch but I’d hate for it to spill.”
Izuku nodded before walking to the table. He moved his things around so two chairs would be available for them to sit in.
Ochako found a ladle and served up two bowls of the dumpling soup she prepared. She carried over a bowl to the table with a spoon and chopsticks she found in his kitchen drawers.
She noticed Izuku was still standing, watching her as she placed the bowl down. She could see the wheels spinning in his head, even with his illness.
“Go ahead and take a seat. I’ll be right back.”
She walked back to the kitchen and grabbed her bowl and utensils before heading back to the table.
“Thank you very much, Uraraka. This smells incredible.” Izuku smiled brightly from his seat. They both heard his stomach grumble in agreement and laughed.
His eyes softened as he looked down at his bowl. “You didn’t have to do this, you know. I’m sorry I put you through all of this.”
Ochako’s eyes softened. “Deku, I wanted to. Now please eat before your stomach eats itself.”
Izuku nodded, murmuring ‘itadakimasu’ before diving in.
She watched him take the first bite as she spooned some broth for herself. She watched him close his eyes, appearing and sounding like he enjoyed the taste before continuing to eat with steady determination.
Her heart felt full. She was both grateful and happy he enjoyed her simple dish, but more so happy he was eating something. She noted in the back of her mind putting away leftovers so he could easily reheat them for future meals—making sure he had something easily accessible to eat.
Izuku paused eating mid-bowl, looking up at her and cleared his throat. Was he embarrassed he hadn’t talked yet? She blinked. She honestly didn’t mind the silence—watching him eat was enough. His body needed fuel to fight off his illness.
“How’s your work going?” Izuku asked, his green eyes earnest with curiosity.
Ochako smiled, settling into the conversation easily. “It’s going well! I actually had a student today who gave me a hug.” She spooned some broth, remembering the moment. “His quirk lets him sense when people are lying—which sounds useful until you’re eight years old and can’t turn it off. He hated it. Said it made everyone around him feel ‘ugly.’”
Izuku’s expression softened with understanding.
“But today he used it to help a classmate who was too scared to admit she was being bullied.” Ochako’s smile widened. “He was so proud of himself. Told me his quirk ‘helped someone feel safe.’”
Izuku nodded, a soft smile crossing his face despite the fatigue still pulling at his features. “I’m not surprised. You’re really good at bringing out the best in people.”
Ochako felt warmth bloom in her chest as her own cheeks heated at the compliment.
“I can say the same about you and the way you take care of your students.” She gestured at his laptop, still sitting where she’d moved it. “Even when you should be resting.”
Izuku scratched his cheek, nervously chuckling. “I can’t get anything past you, can I?”
Ochako smiled. “It’s important to you to care for everyone... I understand. You can’t do that if you’re unwell or burnt out. You have to take care of yourself to, ya know? You need to focus on resting and feeling better, then you can help others.”
Izuku nodded in understanding, smiling softly as well. “It’s a hard lesson to follow. I’ll do my best.”
Ochako beamed. “You always do when you put your mind to something.”
Izuku opened his mouth to respond, but a yawn caught him off guard. He tried to cover it, looking embarrassed. “Sorry, I—”
“No need to apologize.” She stood, already gathering their bowls and utensils. “Soup and medicine are catching up with you. You should get some real rest so you feel better.”
Izuku nodded, looking both tired and disappointed. She was enjoying their time together too, but she knew rest was more important.
Izuku followed after her as she took their things back into the kitchen and placed them in the sink. He helped her put the leftovers away, waving off her protests. “It’s the least I can do.”
Her cheeks flushed as he reached around her for the storage containers, his presence warm at her back. Even sick and exhausted, he made her heart skip.
She washed the dishes while he stubbornly dried them, moving slowly but determined to help.
Once everything was taken care of in the kitchen, Ochako grabbed her bag as she glanced out his apartment window, noticing how dark it was outside. “I should probably get going. I have to work tomorrow.”
She gave him a smile, while also giving him a look. “And you need to rest.”
Izuku nodded, putting on his best determined smile. “I will. Thank you. For everything.” His expression softened, something tender in his eyes that made her heart squeeze.
He followed her to the door, the All Might blanket once again draped over his shoulders. She slipped on her shoes, very aware of him watching her with that same soft expression.
“Text me when you get home safe?” His voice was quiet, almost hesitant. “So I know you made it okay.”
“I will,” she promised, straightening to face him. “I’m not disappearing, Deku.” They stood there in the small entryway, neither quite ready for her to leave.
Something in his expression eased at that.
Her hand moved before she could think about it, reaching up to brush a wayward curl back from his forehead. She let her hand rest against his cheek. His skin was still warm, but not nearly as feverish as before. “Get some rest, okay? Actual rest. In your bed.”
His eyes fluttered closed briefly at her touch. Was it her, or did she suddenly feel his weight lean into her hand? When they opened again, they were bright despite the exhaustion pulling at his features. “Okay.”
She started to pull her hand back, but his fingers caught hers gently—careful, like he was afraid she might disappear. He held on for just a moment, thumb brushing across her knuckles.
“Thank you, Uraraka,” he whispered. “For being here. For… all of it.”
Her cheeks warmed, but she didn’t pull away. “Anytime, Deku. I mean it.”
He smiled—soft and genuine and a little bit wondering—before finally releasing her hand. She felt the absence immediately.
“I’ll check on you tomorrow,” she added, reaching for the door handle.
“I’d like that.”
She opened the door, pausing on the threshold to look back at him one more time. He was still standing there, blanket-wrapped and rumpled and looking at her like she’d done something extraordinary instead of just bringing soup.
“Goodnight, Deku.”
“Goodnight, Uraraka.”
She stepped outside, the door closing gently between them.
Not like something ending.
Like something steady.