Work Text:
The Yaoyorozu family is renowned for countless things in numerous fields.
Yaoyorozu Daisuke, a stubborn but kind man, had been a surgeon for those with mutant quirks. His sudden passing in a villain attack rattled the community for months. A placard still hangs in the hospital he had worked at for all those years.
Yaoyorozu Hitomi, an inventive and unstoppable force, is a cornerstone of her branch of chemistry.
Even Yaoyorozu Kazuya, who had distanced himself from the galas and extravagance, had become a well-spoken diplomat.
This is to say that Momo has known from a young age that she’s supposed to be something just as great as her family members. Born to a ruthless defense attorney and statistician of the Hero Public Safety Commission, Momo has always known her purpose to be more.
She’s studied various subjects of academics under some of the best tutors in Japan.
She’s practiced instruments under the care of professional musicians.
She’s refined every single aspect of herself into a perfect representation of what a Yaoyorozu should be.
And yet, as she stares at her laptop screen in the dark of her bedroom, she can’t help but wonder if her ‘more’ is to dedicate herself to others in the most selfless way. She has U.A.’s academic calendar pulled up alongside her own personal schedule.
As expected, it would be tedious to work the Entrance Exam around her upcoming pageant rehearsals, but not necessarily impossible.
Heart fluttering in her throat, Momo hovers over the section titled ‘About U.A.’ and clicks it.
<3
In her first pageant, Momo had been the runner-up. Despite her relatively young age compared to the other contestants, as well as her inexperience in the world of competitions, it wasn’t surprising to see her place so well.
When she had first taken interest in pageants, her mother had been whole-hearted in her support. Her father had been a bit nervous about the prospect, but eventually agreed to allow her to compete.
Her mother had brought her to every dress fitting and tailoring session, complimenting her every choice.
Her father had read over her rehearsed answers for the interview portion hundreds of times, making dozens of alterations to improve her coherence.
Both of her parents enthusiastically supported her chosen talent of piano, increasing her piano teacher’s already sizable wage for every lesson.
Then nine-years-old, Yaoyorozu Momo had stood on that stage with a manufactured smile as she performed her role to the best of her capabilities.
Now, Momo stares at her polished, prim, and perfect self in the mirror and wonders if she could even become a hero.
Her quirk is well-suited to just about anything, of course. She could be a researcher, working on cutting edge technology for the masses. She could be a doctor, formulating and mass-producing cures for rampant ailments. She could pursue any education or any career.
<3
As the door to his office slides open the slightest bit, Yaoyorozu Masayuki glances up from his computer to see his daughter peering her head in.
“Momo?” Masayuki asks, immediately hopping from his spreadsheet to a blank tab. Even though it’s just displaying how the updated budget could be divided among various aspects of heroics, his superiors wouldn’t exactly be thrilled at him revealing such information.
Momo smiles at him as she enters his office. She slides the wooden door closed behind her with little more than a soft thud.
“Could- could I talk to you really quick?” Momo asks, her voice shaking the slightest bit. Masayuki’s eyebrows furrow in concern at the uncharacteristic anxiety in his daughter’s voice.
“It won’t take long at all,” Momo adds, as though she could ever be a burden on him. In truth, Masayuki would gladly drop everything at a moment's notice for his daughter. Work and reputation be damned.
“Of course,” Masayuki replies, spinning in his chair so his entire body is facing her. Momo takes a deep breath, straightens her posture, and makes direct eye contact with him.
“I think I want to apply to U.A. I want to be a hero.”
It’s a startling declaration, but Masayuki doesn’t let his surprise show.
“Okay,” Masayuki agrees easily, nodding his head. Momo makes a choked sound of surprise at his response, which he ignores.
Why wouldn’t he support his daughter?
“It- it would probably interfere with rehearsals,” Momo interjects. Masayuki mentally recalls the schedules of upcoming entrance exams, and yes, the U.A. Entrance Exam would most definitely interfere with his daughter’s already strenuous schedule.
“You could take U.A.’s recommendation exam. Unless they’ve changed it in the past twenty years, it’s a week before the normal one,” Masayuki volunteers, pulling up U.A.’s website on his browser.
“The recommendation exam?” Momo asks, her voice pitched a bit higher than usual.
“Perk of working with the Hero Public Safety Commission and the Yaoyorozu name. I highly doubt Principal Nedzu would be opposed to you taking it.”
Absorbed in navigating to the subsection outlining U.A.’s requirements for the recommendation exam, Masayuki doesn’t notice his daughter making her way over to him.
He does notice when she wraps her arms around him in a teary embrace.
<3
Uraraka Ochako is in the middle of solving a math question to prepare for U.A.’s grueling written exam when the bell above the door chimes with the arrival of a customer.
Like the well-adjusted and incredibly awake person she is, Ochako does not jump and let out a squeal of surprise. She absolutely does not.
She very pointedly ignores the sound of her workbook hitting the ground.
The girl that walks into the shop is absolutely gorgeous.
Like, the kind of gorgeous that very much does not belong in Shinotori-san’s alterations shop. A garment bag is draped over her forearm. Just from the intricate embroidering and tight weaving of the garment bag, Ochako can tell that this girl does not belong.
“Hello,” she says. Her voice is melodic, and slightly deeper than Ochako had expected. It’s also just what she needs to shift into customer service mode.
“Good evening, what seams to be the problem today?” It’s a stupid pun, and Ochako wants to curl into a ball every single time she has to say it. She loves Shinotori-san, and will forever be grateful to the elderly woman for providing her with such an amazing job opportunity, but the sewing puns bring physical pain to her soul.
“I… have a bit of a predicament. My dress has off-the-shoulder sleeves, and the left one is beginning to rip from the dress. The only issue is that I need it soon.” From the desperation in her voice at that final sentence, Ochako understands the gravity—ha—of the situation.
However, there is one teeny tiny issue: Shinotori-san handles almost all of the tailoring projects, and Shinotori-san is helping with her newborn grandson.
“So, uh, unfortunately, our main seamstress isn’t actually around right now,” Ochako replies, her voice cracking. The girl doesn’t outwardly show it too much, but her disappointment is evident.
“But, if you’re willing to let me, I’m willing to take a stab at it!” Ochako rushes out. She doesn’t know why she says it. Well, she does, considering this girl is absolutely stunning, and Ochako is a weak-willed lesbian.
However, Ochako has never taken this type of project before. Sure, she’s sewn before. She’s repaired holes in her favorite sweater more than a few times, and Shinotori-san has let her hem a few pairs of pants here and there.
“Absolutely,” the girl agrees with a nod. The movement makes her beautiful black hair fall from where it had been tucked behind her ear, and Ochako thinks she could scream right now.
<3
The first thing that Ochako notices is that the dress is absolutely captivating on the girl’s frame.
The second thing that Ochako notices is that the dress is most definitely worth more than a month of rent.
That second fact makes Ochako reconsider her decision to volunteer to repair such a piece. If she fucks up, she is most definitely damned to an unfathomable degree. Forget Shinotori-san firing her, she would probably be fired from this plane of existence.
The dress itself is honestly a masterpiece. If Ochako had to use one word to describe it, she would use breathtaking. It’s a stunning wine red in color. Nearly-transparent layers of tulle reach the floor in an almost regal display. The top of the dress ends in a high neck cut that makes Ochako want to kiss the designer.
Lo and behold, there’s two slightly darker off-the-shoulder tulle sleeves around her upper arms. As expected, the left one is trying to revolt from being part of the masterpiece.
Ochako flitters around the girl from where she stands on the platform, trying to work out just how she’s going to fix it. Ochako leans in, examining the fraying threads with a keen eye. She knows they don’t have any tulle in this exact color, nor any similar replacements.
“Money isn’t an issue,” the girl remarks, like Ochako couldn’t guess that fact. The reassurance does make her feel better, though.
“If anything, I’m willing to part with the sleeves entirely,” she adds. Ochako pauses, considering it.
It would be easy to remove them.
“I could do that,” Ochako says, her voice shockingly steady despite her pounding heart. She spares a glance at the mirror, and accidentally locks eyes with the other girl.
Shit, shit, shit, why is she so pretty?
A smile graces the girl’s face. It’s not the same one that she had when she first walked in. This time, it’s far softer and genuine.
“I think that would be perfect.”
<3
As the girl changes in her changing room, Ochako stands behind the counter, trying to collect her thoughts.
If she sits down right now, she’ll probably keel over and stay like that, which would be embarrassing for everyone.
Ochako stretches her arms behind her, rotating at her hips in an attempt to distract herself from the butterflies fluttering in her empty stomach.
Her gaze catches on her math workbook on the carpet floor.
Oh yeah, she was studying for the Entrance Exam wasn’t she?
She quickly retrieves the book from the ground, returning it to its place on her counter.
Just as Ochako debates trying to find where she had left off in the workbook, the girl exits the changing room, the garment bag over her forearm once again.
“When exactly do you need it finished by?” Ochako asks, just to confirm the date in the system. The girl looks somewhat abashed at the question.
“Before the tenth,” she replies, no small amount of embarrassment in her voice.
Ochako glances at the paper calendar on her counter, then double-checks. It’s the twenty-ninth right now.
“So… Thursday?” Ochako asks.
“That is correct.”
“Got it,” Ochako agrees easily, carefully inputting the information into the system.
“How much does it usually cost for something like this?”
Ochako doesn’t pause as she mentally recalls every lesson Shinotori-san had instilled into her about how her prices are always dependent on the piece.
“Um, if I had to guess, probably between two thousand and three thousand yen? It shouldn’t be too difficult though, so it’ll probably be two thousand. You, uh, you pay when you come to pick up the garment,” Ochako rambles before forcing herself to shut up.
“That seems awfully low,” the girl muses. Ochako doesn’t want to say that it’s actually a high price compared to their other jobs.
“What are you studying for?”
The question takes Ochako so off-guard that she nearly adds an extra zero into the system. She quickly glances over, only to find that the girl is looking at the math workbook in front of her.
“Oh, um, I’m studying to get into U.A.’s hero course,” Ochako replies, averting her gaze.
“As am I.”
Ochako thinks she could combust right now. She wants to use her quirk on herself and float into the Sun right about now.
“Uh, I need a name for the pick-up,” Ochako blurts out like the totally socially competent person she is.
“Yaoyorozu Momo.”
Oh God, she’s talking to a Yaoyorozu.
Ochako would really, really like to curl into a ball and scream as loud as she can. She pushes down that urge and forces herself to give Yaoyorozu Momo the best smile she can.
“It’ll be ready by Monday.”
<3
When Yaoyorozu Momo tries on the newly altered dress, there’s a beaming smile tugging at her lips.
“It’s perfect,” she whispers beneath the warm lights of a tailor shop that her mother had little trust in.
The employee’s cheerful grin that greets her makes Momo’s heart soar.
As the employee carefully handles the transaction at her register, Momo sneaks a ten thousand yen note beneath the girl’s workbook. It’s the same one that she had been working on when they had first met.
“How does it look?” Her father asks when she returns to the car.
“It’s beautiful,” Momo replies, looking back at the shop she exited.
Despite the late hour, the employee is returning to her workbook with renewed energy.
<3
When she walks into Class 1-A on the first day, Ochako immediately notices that Yaoyorozu Momo is not only sitting at a desk, but wearing the U.A. uniform.
Judging from the smile that overtakes Yaoyorozu’s face and the fact she stands up to walk over, she notices Ochako too.
Ochako could die happy right now.
“You got in,” Yaoyorozu says. There’s so much pride in her voice that Ochako wants to burst into tears at the support from a girl who doesn’t even know her name.
Oh shit, Yaoyorozu doesn’t even know her name.
“I did!” Ochako manages to squeak out, mentally kicking herself at her inability to make a decent impression.
“I’m so sorry, but I don’t think I ever got your name.”
Ochako could kiss this woman right now for her sheer ability to hold a conversation.
“Oh, um, it’s Uraraka! Uraraka Ochako.”
“That’s a beautiful name,” Yaoyorozu comments with that same blinding smile that tugs at her eyes and makes her look like a goddess.
Ochako does not know how she is going to survive the next three years at U.A.
<3
When there’s a knock at her door at the ripe hour of way too late, Ochako scuttles to put her phone back in her nightstand and heads to her door, carefully opening it by a few inches.
Yaoyorozu is standing in the hallway, blushing and holding an article of clothing close to her chest.
Ochako feels her heart jump into her throat.
“Hi,” Yaoyorozu whispers, her voice trembling. Ochako quickly steps out of the way and opens the door to her dorm the rest of the way, nodding for her classmate to come in.
Yaoyorozu cautiously steps to the middle of her dorm room as Ochako closes the door behind her and flicks the lightswitch on.
Ochako blinks her eyes to adjust to the sudden light before turning around towards Yaoyorozu.
With the light, she can now see that the bundle of fabric in Yaoyorozu’s hands is a bra.
“This is going to sound really, really weird, but I know you’re super good at alterations, and I just wanted to know if you brought anything with you to U.A.,” Yaoyorozu says, staring at her carpet to avoid Ochako’s gaze.
“I- yeah. I have a bunch of stuff in my closet,” Ochako forces out once she manages to get her voice working.
She carefully tiptoes over to her closet, pulling aside the curtain and retrieving the tackle box resting on the floor. Despite its intended purpose, her tackle box has become an absolute monstrosity of sewing materials. Spools of thread replace small areas where bait should rest, and numerous pairs of scissors are scattered in the large compartment.
“You, uh, you can set it on my desk,” Ochako mutters. Yaoyorozu obliges, setting down the piece with no small amount of uncertainty.
“The strap broke,” Yaoyorozu starts, “if it was just the clasp, I would’ve made a new one. But, uh. Yeah. The strap broke.”
“I can fix it. It’s no problem at all,” Ochako reassures her.
“I’m so sorry to bother you with this. I can pay you, if you need me to.”
Ochako looks over, and this time Yaoyorozu is looking at her.
“That’s okay. It happens.”
For some reason, Ochako finds herself taking a step closer to her classmate.
“You know, I… I started sewing because my favorite cardigan had this huge hole in the sleeve. It was this awful neon purple and covered in yellow stars. But I loved it, and that’s why I wanted to fix it.”
Ochako takes a deep breath.
“I love sewing because it lets me do so many things. I can fix things, I can improve things, and I can change anything that I want to.”
“Uraraka?” Yaoyorozu begins, and Ochako feels her face heat up when she realizes that she’s been talking this whole time.
“I’m so sorry,” Ochako immediately replies, bowing slightly out of regret at rambling for so long.
“I think it’s amazing what you do. I- I think you’re amazing.”
Ochako pauses, slowly digesting the words.
“Me?”
“Yes,” Yaoyorozu says, slightly chuckling at her response.
“You’re so talented, and skilled, and smart, and it’s just… you’re absolutely amazing at everything you do. When I got that dress back, I had everyone telling me it was the most beautiful change they had ever seen. My mom even said that she’d be happy to offer you a job as the go-to tailor for the Yaoyorozu family.”
Ochako feels her jaw drop.
“Like for everyone?” Her voice is scarily close to a squeal.
“You have a real talent, Uraraka. If being a hero doesn’t work out, or if you just want to open a business on the side, my family would gladly support you.”
Ochako swallows back tears.
She had started working at Shinotori-san’s alterations shop just to support her family and afford the entrance exam and tuition for U.A.
To have someone tell her that she’s amazing at something she started out of desperation…
“Thank you, Yaoyorozu,” Ochako manages to choke out, and that’s all she can say before the first hot tear rolls down her face.
Yaoyorozu’s arms wrap around her in a warm embrace.
“You can call me Momo.”