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Leaning on her crutches, Ochako frowned at the out-of-order sign in front of the escalator leading to the train stop below. With a sigh, she reached down to itch the spot where the cast encasing her leg met her skin. Of course the escalator had to be broken. Just her luck. As the cool autumn air brushed past Ochako’s blood-red scarf, she gripped onto the handles of her crutches more firmly.
As she started to hobble down the escalator steps, the escalator stretched before her as what felt like an endless eerie expanse leading into the depths below. A bit breathless once she was halfway down the escalator, Ochako rested her elbow on the railing while stopping and holding both crutches with one hand. Silence enveloped the train station entrance aside from the faint whistle of wind. It was like Ochako’s surroundings were holding their breath in that gap of the day suspended between the morning rush and lunch.
Collecting herself, Ochako raised her injured leg and continued to slowly make her way down the steps. It was hardly a surprise that the train station was almost dead-quiet save for the faint pitter-patter of droplets from a drain. Wanting to escape that repetitive pitter-patter of the drain, part of Ochako was tempted to press her fingertips together and send herself floating over the remainder of the escalator.
Her stomach churned at the idea, making the thought slip away. Ochako internally slapped herself for feeling tempted. Ryukyu had told her sidekicks to try and take it easy after Ochako and a couple of others had gotten a bit crushed by rubble on a recent rescue mission. So in Ochako’s case that meant mandatory paid leave. Although grateful that the paid leave meant she could continue helping her parents chip away at their loans, she kept finding her body involuntarily shaking at the idea of sitting still back at her apartment.
Because the world didn’t stop spinning just because Ochako had managed to get her leg broken and push herself to the point of continuous burnout that she didn't have enough stamina Recovery Girl to effectively heal her.
Forehead dripping with sweat, Ochako finally reached the edge of the elevator. She reached to lean against the wall only to find it dripping with drainage that pooled against the floor. Shuddering, Ochako stepped away and braced herself against her crutches as she continued to press forward toward the train station stop. The shaking in her bones stilled a little at the thought of how she'd be at Ryukyu’s agency soon enough. Even if she couldn't get back to sidekick work just yet, at least a visit to the agency would break up the monotony of emptily staring at her bedroom ceiling while picking at her nailbeds.
Rounding the corner, Ochako made it to the train platform. Bright strokes of graffiti stretched across the edges of the train tunnel at the train station that was empty aside from Ochako. As Ochako stepped closer to the make-shift mural she caught a glimpse of vibrant red petals dancing over the bricks. Spider-lilies. Swallowing hard, Ochako bit down on the inside of her mouth and looked away. The bright red flowers hit a little too close to home, evoking the memory of a certain someone’s hair a bit too much.
Ochako glanced at the clock above the posterboard with the train schedule. Just a couple minutes until departure. With a groan, Ochako made a beeline for one of the benches. Sure, there wasn’t much time to sit and wait but the persistent throbbing ache in her leg subsided somewhat as soon as she settled down on the bench. She reached to massage her forehead as guilt reared its ugly head in her stomach and twisted like a snake. Ochako needed to recover and quickly at that. That way she could return to making rubble float and recovering civilians from collapsing buildings. A chance to atone for how she’d failed to save someone who the world had insisted on was incapable of being saved.
But Ochako still remembered how her vision grew blurry as the blood pooled around her on the ground all while a blonde girl smiled back at her. Blood quirk or not, the sight of Himiko’s face warping into Ochako’s had been the furthest thing from a monster.
Because the way Himiko smiled openly and without wavering all while tears streamed down her face was so unbelievably human.
The sound of trainwheels screeching against the tracks, yanked Ochako back into reality and the gravity of it all was making Ochako feel as if her head had hit the ground with a heavy thud. Gathering herself, Ochako arose and approached the edge of the platform and walked further ahead because the train always took a bit longer to come to a stop than expected.
Just as the sliding doors opened and Ochako was about to board the train, a teenage boy in a school uniform ran up from behind her and hopped onto the train. Brushing shoulders with Ochako, he absent-mindedly muttered under his breath about how he was terribly late. With a sigh, Ochako braced herself on her crutches and entered the train after him. She smiled fondly at the memory of how she herself had always been chasing after trains about to depart back in high school. A consequence on the edge of Musutafu while attending UA to save a bit on the cost of rent. With how often she was chasing after the train, the only thing that was missing was a piece of toast between her teeth and some slapstick impromptu paracours to complete the typical comic cliche.
As she looked out the window at the dimly lit walls of the train tunnel, Ochako sensed her head getting heavy. Not with fatigue – but rather it was fuzzy. Like static almost. Like some distorted image was slowly resurfacing and piecing itself back together.
Ochako reached up to rub her eyes, but when she opened them a faint silhouette caught the corner of her eye in the train car that remained empty aside from her and the schoolboy. Behind the glass door leading to the next train car, Ochako caught a glimpse of blonde hair. Peering closer, Ochako noted a familiar middle school uniform tucked beneath a pink winter coat. Ochako blinked slowly and paused before opening her eyes again. It had to be a trick of the light, right?
But as she peeling her eyelids open again, the girl with her back turned to Ochako wearing that pink coat that was still there. That familiar set of messy space buns was unmistakable.
Reaching for her crutches, Ochako approached the doorway even as the good knee buckled while the train continued to speed forward. She was almost tempted to drop the crutches and hold out her hand to reach for the girl. She couldn’t let the ghost from her past slip between her fingertips again. Her fingers tensed, longing to wrap her fingers around Himiko’s so they could be hand-in-hand again back like when they were tumbling from the sky.
As she slid the door open to the next train car, Ochako ran up to the girl as best as she could with crutches. But as Ochako tapped the girl on the shoulder, the anticipation in her chest crumbled, melting away like Himiko’s skin did whenever her transformation wore off. In the flickering fluorescent lights, it dawned on Ochako that the girl’s hair looked more auburn than blonde and it was bound back in meticulously slicked back buns.
Ochako pulled her arm away and stepped away sheepishly. “Sorry… I thought you were someone I used to know.”
Avoiding direct eye contact, Ochako headed back to her original train car. The boy in the high school uniform was staring at her intently with his eyebrows raised. Pressing her lips together firmly, Ochako lifted her red scarf to cover her mouth. Hopefully the kid didn’t recognize her. The last thing she needed to do while off the clock was cause weird rumors about her bugging civilians that could reflect poorly on Ryukyu’s agency. Breathe in. Breath out. Ochako needed to focus on the task at hand. She needed to concentrate on staying afloat and getting better rather than drowning in the memories of a girl who had faded away years ago.
Ochako craned her neck downward to look at her boots. It was just another girl on the subway. Not a ghost haunting her. Her scars from the war had healed. The nightmares of screaming had quieted down. Buildings had been rebuilt. Hospital wards weren’t as empty as they were back then. Still, the idea of pretending that the mark on her stomach there made Ochako flinch. Who could she think to move on when another girl who’d been her age was six feet under? Someone whose chapter had closed before it could even really start. Someone who had her entire predestined story written out for her the second she sunk her teeth into the side of a sparrow’s neck.
She still felt like just moving on would make her a villain. As the train car hit a bump and jumped up a little, Ochako wrapped her arms around herself and that sinking feeling festered. Sometimes she’d wonder if Himiko’s blood from the transfusion was still pumping in her veins even though logically that shouldn’t be possible years later. But maybe it would explain why she still felt like a planet in Himiko’s orbit pulled in by her gravity.
As the train resurfaced from underground, light flickered in. While the train came to a stop, Ochako found herself staring out the window. On the train platform, a figure waved back at her. A girl stood there in a cream-colored cardigan and blue skirt. Blonde hair shone beneath the sunlight. And she was wearing the pink coat again – a coak that looked so pristine and new compared to the weathered middle school uniform. Maybe Himiko had bought it with the money the League had gotten a hold of with their various schemes? Ochako didn’t really know. She and Himiko’s time with each other had been cut too short for Ochako to ask those kinds of questions.
Humming to herself, Himiko hopped onto the train car right next to the one Ochako was in. Ochako gripped onto the plastic seat she was settled on, trying to will herself to stay in place. After the last incident, she couldn’t risk getting latched on again. What if her mind was playing tricks on her?
But as she started moving toward the door leading to the next train car before she could even think, it dawned on her that hallucination or not she couldn’t let Himiko get away.
Maybe it was a trick Ochako’s own mind was playing on her. But maybe it didn’t matter. Because there were words burning on Ochako’s tongue so much it seared her mind. Words that Ochako felt like she had spent a lifetime wanting to say.
“I’m sorry I couldn’t save you.”
The girl turned around. This time it wasn’t just some lookalike. Blonde hair had unfurled from Himiko’s buns and cascaded around slim shoulders. Bright gold eyes flashed back at Ochako as a sunshine smile stretched across Himiko's face. The kind of smile anyone could find themselves envious of.
“But you did. Because of you I felt like a person again until my last breath.”
And then Himiko melted away. Not in the way she usually did with gray goop running down her back, leaving her bare and exposed after he returned to being herself. Vulnerable, exposed and reaching to put on a mask again. This time, she didn’t grasp for that mask and just let her crooked fanged smile shine beneath the fluorescent lights until she faded away into nothingness. The train car was all creaks and quiet rumbling again. The silence was so deafening that Ochako could have tricked herself into thinking that Himiko’s words must have been the wind.
Except that the persistent weight in Ochako’s chest felt lighter somehow.
A figure settled down in front of Ochako. She looked up at the boy in the school uniform who had clasped his hands in front of himself. When had he followed her into the next train car? Hard to say. Everything had been a bit of a blur.
Furrowing his brows, the boy leaned forward and bowed in front of Ochako. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to activate my quirk.”
“Really, it’s okay,” Ochako said.
“But you’re crying.”
Ochako touched the side of her face, surprised to find it wet with tears. “Huh, I guess I am.”
Titling his head in confusion, the boy paused and looked like he needed to spend some time stringing his words together before speaking up again. “Did I make you see someone who hurt you?”
“No.” Ochako shook her head and flashed a broken smile. “I just saw the cutest girl in the world.”
Ochako quietly placed her hand over the section of her abdomen that Himiko had sliced with a knife all those years ago. She got away. But somehow she was also still here.