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It had taken Himiko a full year before she was willing to so much as step foot in one of Ochako’s quirk clinics.
This was, of course, not out of a lack of support. She would enthusiastically, obnoxiously support almost anything Ochako considered doing, and her most dedicated and serious ambition was far from an exception. She’d nearly bawled the first time she was told about the plan, she’d been so moved. Her hero, fighting to save kids that were just like them, to keep the world from falling back into the place she couldn’t stand to live in.
But supporting an idea, understanding the mission, even accepting its purpose and importance, did not kill the base instinct in her core that saw the words ‘quirk counseling’ and wanted to run back to the shadows to find safety.
Ochako didn’t push it, thankfully. She’d telegraph when she was going to the clinic, and keep her updated on its developments, but she hadn’t asked if Himiko wanted to come with after the first time she said no. When she did finally join her partner for an outing, it was entirely of her own volition, grabbing her hand before she could leave their apartment and clinging to it for the rest of the day.
She’d gotten better about it, since then. She usually came along at least once a week, for the past few months. When that pattern first developed, it was still mostly just to be present, maybe to help out with odd jobs in the lobby, not venturing towards any specific office that could look familiar to the memories that clung to the corners of her nightmares.
The weekly visits became more standardized when it was decided Himiko was ready to help lead group sessions, which was something she technically agreed to even as every nerve in her body and every brain cell she possessed screamed it was a terrible idea. Ochako had seemed so excited, so hopeful at the idea. Had seemed so convinced Himiko could manage something so important. It wasn’t like she could say no to that.
She couldn’t say no to the kids she was assigned, either.
That day was her fifth session with the group, and she didn’t feel any more confident than she had the first time. If anything, she might have felt worse, when so little progress was being made.
Himiko was never going to be put in charge of one of the energetic groups of mostly well adjusted kids that just needed to get used to their quirks, playing in large crowds together to get the hang of them. Outside of being naturally excitable herself, she didn’t have a foothold to relate to them on near any level.
The half dozen kids that would gather weekly in a large indoor office to ignore the toys sprawled across the room and usually also her, however? She understood them. She understood why they’d been visiting the clinic longer than she’d been willing to stay for longer than a few minutes at a time, she understood why they’d been placed in what could be considered emergency treatment, and she understood why they all seemed so scared.
She’d been scared when she was their age, too. Her so-called therapist had said she was right to be. She had to be better than that.
But Himiko also understood why her words would sound like nothing to them, and she wasn’t sure how to fix that.
“These blocks look real fun, don’t they?” The words sounded fake to her even as she said them, but Himiko still smiled widely at the little boy next to her as she held up the wooden block between them. “I think it would be prettier if it were rock, though. It’d also be really cool and sturdy, then.”
The gambit wasn’t subtle, and the frantic head shaking he replied with was expected. She didn’t expect him to move his gloved hands from their place pressed tightly against his chest, either. Himiko had never seen him without them on, and only knew his quirk, the ability to turn anything to stone with five point activation, because of the official files she’d been given.
Her own hands had shaken the first time she read the description. It wasn’t identical, but…
Ochako had offered to wait longer to start hosting sessions, after seeing which file she was on at the time. That was probably the moment that cemented to her that she had to do this, though. She hadn’t even gotten through all of them yet, but she already knew she couldn’t look away from these kids.
One little girl didn’t look away from her, either, as she placed the block down with what hopefully didn’t look like too much defeat, staring from what would objectively be considered a dark, shadowy corner of the room.
Someone more experienced, better at this, probably would have tried to pull her into the exercise. But Himiko was floundering with one kid right now. If she tried to introduce another one into the mix, there could be tears. They could even be her own, though the boy next to her was close enough to beating her to the punch on that without any changes made to the situation.
“I can’t… I can’t do that,” he finally whispered wetly, pulling his distracted counselor's attention back to him fully. “What if it doesn’t stop?”
She almost told him that if he held the block up while using his quirk, there probably wouldn’t be any risk of its effect spreading as long as he wasn’t touching it anymore once he put it down. He had been too scared to experiment with it at all, so she had no proof, but decay had never spread to items not touching the original target, so…
So he wouldn’t want to hear that.
“You know, Ochako-san had to practice a four fingered grip when she was your age. You could try to do that, for now, and ask her about it later.”
The words felt like sand in her mouth. Both the just slightly too formal way of referring to her partner, her Ochako-chan, and the fact that, for once, she wasn’t who she wanted to talk about in that moment. It wasn’t all that helpful here.
Worrying about something floating away a few feet was never going to be the same as worrying about changing, potentially destroying something irreconcilably. A scared little kid was going to know that difference intimately.
He still didn’t take the gloves off, and she could hardly blame him.
(The girl in the corner was still staring, and Himiko still didn’t know how to help her.)
“Just checking in! How is everything?”
The timing of Ochako’s sudden appearance in the doorway to the large office was probably a bit too convenient to be coincidental, but Himiko was never one to be against a bit of overprotective hovering. It would also be impossible to deny the flood of relief that washed over her at the mere sound of her girlfriend’s voice, and at the promise of help in the nightmare battle of wills she was trapped in with a six-year-old on the verge of tears.
The entire room seemed to light up as she slipped in, and judging by the sudden smiles on the kids she hadn’t managed to find time with yet that day, it wasn’t just her usual perception of any room Ochako entered. She couldn’t even be offended, they seemed happier to see Ochako than her, and she would be too.
The smile she sent towards her partner was tight lipped and strained, and the hero’s furrowed brows in response signalled she knew help was very much needed, even as she otherwise kept a bright expression.
“Everything’s fine,” Himiko was lying through her teeth, but she knew the truth had already been picked up on, so it was just for show, to calm the kid down. “Ishio-kun is just still a little nervous about taking his gloves off.”
Somehow, in the handful of seconds she looked away from him to greet her partner, the young boy had finally started actually crying, if a little heartbreakingly silently, and his breath quickened as he clung to his own hands, to the thick quirk-proof gloves covering them, at being mentioned.
Himiko could tell Ochako was extremely concerned at the development, but the smile she put up still seemed so reassuring.
“Is that right? Well, that is a big step, so that makes sense. Maybe I can…” Her voice tapered off as she glanced to the side, meeting another pair of eyes directed firmly on them, before coming back in full force, determined and confident. “I think it’s time for a quick demonstration on quirk control!”
Before Himiko had a chance to process Ochako’s idea (or to discourage it. Her quirk was nothing like little Ishio’s, it wouldn’t help. He might even find it insulting. She probably would have. Tomura absolutely would have), her partner had grabbed her own hand with a comforting squeeze.
“Himiko-san’s going to help me show you quirk control with gravity! Then you can try what we’re doing yourself.”
And Himiko… still didn’t understand what Ochako was thinking, what this could do for him even with her part in it. She didn’t understand, until her hero's gaze slid silently over to the corner once more, then back towards her, pleading.
There wasn’t any further hesitation when she pulled the offered hand up to her bared fangs.
(It was common practice for Ochako to reach out a hand to drink from when it had been too long since Himiko used her quirk and she needed blood as soon as she could get it or suffer negative side effects.
She always kept vials on hand for these emergencies, filled with a variety of blood from those she had come to love. Ochako, of course, but also Izuku, Tsuyu, and even Katsuki after years of sharing space just enough to come to an understanding. To her surprise, once he had heard the heroes were offering vials to her, Spinner had practically tripped over himself to match the gifts, despite always being hesitant to do so back in the day. She didn’t have a lack of options when the world got foggy and her anxiety heightened and she needed to disappear into the warm embrace of someone she loved with all her heart.
But Ochako still always offered her flesh directly, if it happened while she was there, even with the less intrusive vial from the same source on Himiko’s hip.)
While Himiko was fully capable of biting her partner quickly and fairly discreetly at this point, she made a point to telegraph the motions for the sake of the young audience. Despite her attempts at frequent and recently more extended stints working at the clinic, she had never used her quirk while in the building before, so none of the kids had seen it in action before.
Himiko didn’t look up from Ochako’s hand as she brought it to her mouth, opened wider than it needed to be to show off her fangs, but she was able to just barely see Ishio’s eyes widen in turn at the sight from the corner of her eye. She had to block that out if she didn’t want to freeze up completely. Trying to reenter society had unfortunately brought some old insecurities that she had thrown aside as a villain back in full force, and she wasn’t sure if she could handle seeing a little kid actively afraid of her without breaking down on the spot.
So she closed her eyes, and for a moment let the world melt away in the taste of Ochako’s blood, given so freely and so openly.
When she pulled away, and when she opened her eyes, they were identical to those of her partners’.
They were also very surprised not to see the fear she was expecting to face, which wouldn’t have even been very different than how the child had looked the entire session. Apparently, seeing her quirk was enough to hit Ishio instead with curiosity, finally overpowering his own self-loathing just enough for him to look the closest to happy she’d ever seen him.
Another glance at the corner told her there were similar, if not even more intense, results on that front. Ochako had been right that this was the best call they could make for now. Hopefully, she wouldn’t mess something up to make it so they didn’t stick the landing.
Her hero didn’t visibly check the results personally, though her enthusiasm as she clapped after reclaiming her hand was high enough to suggest she certainly noticed.
“Alright, now we can show you what I think you should try! Himiko-chan, can you show him what my quirk looks like without any control practiced?”
Despite her best attempts at remaining professional in front of the kids, Ochako still slipped into informality with the request, and Himiko had to wonder if that was on purpose too. Being even more affectionate after she used her oh-so-scary quirk could be seen as positive reinforcement.
Or it could be her girlfriend getting a little giddy seeing her transform into her, something she had been known to do. There wasn’t a way to tell either way, without asking, and there was no time to do that when there were two kids staring at them and Himiko needed to start floating some blocks right then.
The most she could do was grin at her partner, with a wild smile that she knew looked out of place on her Ochako’s face but that the original swore up and down was still the cutest thing she’d ever seen, before grabbing two of the nearly forgotten wooden blocks with both hands, clearly showing every finger landing on their surfaces.
When she let go, they started floating slowly up in the space between her and Ishio, who still looked more curious than scared, thank goodness.
“That’s what my quirk does if I’m not practicing quirk control. It’s not bad, but if I do it when I don’t mean to, it can cause problems,” Ochako, experienced and wise and probably not terrified about how the kid would react, jumped straight into an explanation of what was happening. Before continuing, she leaned in closer to Ishio, as if telling him a secret. “I usually still wear gloves kinda like yours at night. Don’t want my pillow or blanket floating off!”
The nod of understanding and agreement she got in response from him was almost enthusiastic, but his hands didn’t move from his usual position clutching onto them desperately. Somehow, she doesn’t let that deter her as she moves her attention to another block.
“During the day, though, I just need to be careful, and my quirk won’t activate! Like this!”
With a slightly dramatic flourish, Ochako carefully grabbed a block with only four of her fingers, lifting it up so it was next to the blocks Himiko was still floating between them, but kept firmly in her grasp.
(And Himiko did everything in her power not to see a young man, younger than she was now, holding his gaming system with just four fingers on each hand, and expertly maneuvering through whatever he was playing regardless.)
“Would you like to try now?”
Ochako didn’t seem upset when Ishio’s response was to shake his head. Maybe it was because it seemed hesitant, because it had less energy than he’d shown before when he was just watching, almost seeming comfortable in his own skin for an instant.
Maybe, though, it was because her plan wasn’t done yet. There was still a gaze, uninterrupted and desperate, directed at them from the corner, after all.
Himiko shared a glance with her hero before the other girl stood, rushing over to the other side of the room while trying not to look like she was running. In the meantime, it was her turn to try to be a counselor again as she faced Ishio seriously.
(Maybe she’d be taken a bit more seriously with Ochako’s face? She wouldn’t blame the kid if she was.)
“Ochako-san will be back in a minute. She just thinks that Yuzuki-chan looked like she wanted to join us, and didn’t want to keep her waiting too long.”
Ishio, who had very clearly almost panicked with the belief that it was his failure to take off his gloves that drove away Uravity herself, visibly relaxed with the hurried explanation. He did, however, stare as Himiko took the opportunity to drop the block she’d still been floating, a tinge of jealousy in his eyes.
(Why shouldn’t he be? Anything could be put down, but nothing could come back from stone nor dust.)
“I know that it’s hard,” The thoughts came out of their own accord, and she could tell they sounded too strained to be of any inspirational use even as she said them. She couldn’t say nothing, though, while he looked with the same longing she’d give happy couples and friends while she wouldn’t dare get close to anyone. “To trust yourself. But you’re stronger than you think. And even when you’re not-”
Before Himiko could finish her thought, she was interrupted by Ochako plopping back in place next to her, her adorable mirror in the moment, with Yuzuki, the girl who’d not-so-subtlely been staring with the same jealousy as Ishio, trailing behind her like a shadow.
“Ishio-kun,” Ochako started carefully as she turned back to the boy. “Yuzuki-chan would like to help with our quirk control practice. Would you like to hear her out?”
It was, frankly, obvious that he wanted to say no. But it was hard to say that, in the face of Ochako’s enthusiasm, and it wasn’t surprising that his steadfast stance against any of either of their suggestions would fall eventually. Hesitantly, he just barely nodded.
“... I can turn it off, for a little bit. Your quirk,” Despite offering to speak to begin with, the girl was barely muttering her proposition, and Himiko had to strain to hear what she was saying to the boy she scooted towards as she almost spoke. “I would just have to bite you like Himiko-sensei, first. It… it wasn’t scary when she did it, right?”
More than anything, that question took Himiko by the arm and dragged her against her will into the corner of her mind always playing moments from the past on an endless loop. A little girl, with fangs she couldn’t quite hide, softly asking a friend if she could bite them. It was a scene that only didn’t play out often in her own life because the first few times had gone so poorly.
It wasn’t scary, right? She had never thought so, but everyone else always did. Friends had cried to teachers about how weird she was, asking to move tables afterwards, parents were disgusted at the thought. It wasn’t scary, right? It was despicable. It was unforgivable. It had to be hidden, lest anyone think the Togas weren’t normal. She wasn’t allowed to smile, and her mother had cried with joy when it was finally clear her little brother didn’t have her fangs.
It wasn’t scary, right? Himiko didn’t know if she could handle watching Yuzuki have her request rejected. The girl had a quirk that could make her as strong as Stain and as useful as Eraserhead, but a smile that gleaned like her own in a way that she wasn’t sure the world was ready to accept yet, even with all the progress Ochako and her friends had been pushing for. She couldn’t watch her spirit break like a mirror to the past, watch a mask fall in place with the refusal. A mask that never smiled.
It wasn’t scary, right? Even so, Himiko felt herself reaching to prepare to comfort Yuzuki, even as the image of her hero dripped off her in a way that was probably even more unnerving than the question itself.
Except, before her hands reached the child’s shoulders, Ishio’s wrist, bare with the glove riding slightly up the hand to give access, was pushed in front of Yuzuki’s face with the same motion Ochako used to offer her hand before.
It was a bit of a blur, after that. Somehow, that was enough for the two children to start playing together happier than she’d ever seen either of them. Somehow, there were no more incidents the rest of the session. Somehow, the day ended with a little girl, fangs clear in her smile, bounding up to her parents while waving goodbye to Himiko enthusiastically.
Even after all the kids left, the image of Yuzuki smiling up at her parents still lingered in Himiko’s mind.
They had looked so proud, listening to her ramble about playing with Ishio. They had seemed so pleased, that she had been comfortable. They didn’t tell her to stop.
They didn’t have fangs themselves. But they loved their daughter’s own regardless.
It really was something so simple, so expected, but she couldn’t stop spinning it in her head over and over as she silently picked up scattered toys.
Ochako hadn’t said anything since the parents all left, and Himiko could tell she was waiting for her to break the silence hanging between them, to voice the words sticking in her throat.
“... I wouldn’t have been brave enough for that, by the time I was her age.”
Her voice was hoarse, quiet, as she practically tried to hide the words she was just barely forcing out. Ochako still didn’t answer, was still letting her speak.
“It was too late, by then. Everyone told me it was wrong. Even when I stopped hiding, I was…”
She was still too scared to ask, even as everything else fell to the wayside. It was rare for her to drink blood that wasn’t stolen, and when she did it was offered, be it by Big Sis Magne worrying about her quirk development or Tomura insisting none of his teammates were allowed to go for need of anything.
(Or Touya, handing over the last vial, the last piece of the one who mattered the most, who offered the most, until he couldn’t anymore-)
“I don’t think that’s true.”
Somehow, Ochako’s voice always found her in her darkest corners, pulling her back out from the haze of despair.
“All these kids are brave. But they… have support you never did. They have the room to be brave that you weren’t allowed, at the time. If you had half the support network you do now, much less as much as we can provide to them, you might not have been afraid in the first place.”
Still so determined, still so sure, still so proud in the strength she can promise. Ochako Uraraka still never failed to impress her. Himiko didn’t even have to turn to look at her for the support to fill her with warmth, didn’t even have to stop cleaning up.
When she reached for the blocks, one of them is colder than the wood should have been, and heavier when she picked it up.
Ishio had used his quirk at some point, and hadn’t even been upset enough to bring it up, much less the abruption of tears she expected.
It felt a little silly, to cry over something as expected in their society, but Himiko couldn’t help it as she pulled the perfect cubed stone closer. It was proof, physical and tangible, that this was working. That Ochako was right. That this was how this should be done, should have always been done.
It might not have fixed everything. But it would have fixed a lot.
“... I think I want to pick up more hours at the clinic.”
The admission is laced with the desperation for the future the stone showed her, and she knew it could be heard. She wasn’t surprised when familiar arms wrapped around her shoulders, pulling her back enough for her partner to wrap around and plant a soft kiss against her wet cheeks.
“I’m sorry this didn’t exist when you – when all of you – needed it. But I’m so glad you’re willing to be here now. So we can make sure no kids like Ishio-kun and Yuzuki-chan don’t fall through the cracks.”
Himiko’s smile was wobbly when she turned, still in her hero’s embrace, never shifting out of her reach, but it was still the full smile she’d never been allowed.
“We can’t lose them. I won’t let them fall.”
Ochako leaned closer with an amused huff, pressing her forehead against Himiko’s.
“Who has an ego now?”
Having the ego she once felt such indignation at felt reasonable, in the face of such hope, with the future paved ahead clearer than it ever had been before. Maybe that was how Ochako had felt, then, on the night the world changed forever.
Rather than answering with any words, Himiko bridged the gap between them, pressing her lips against her partner’s with a steady determination.
She didn’t have this, when she needed it. There was no unconditional support, or careful words, or the weight of the future she was fighting held firmly in hand.
But it was Himiko and Ochako’s future, and they wouldn’t sacrifice anything to reach it, when they could have everything in each other’s arms.