Chapter Text
Ochako staggers to the side as pain rips through her stomach.
Looking down, she sees a small, still expanding, blood stain on her Hero costume, next to her kidney. She sucks in a breath, chokes on it and the tang of blood at the back of her throat.
Not good! she thinks, spinning back to watch the fight. It's a distraction, she knows that, but it's a good one too. A big villain heist was being planned right out in the open, they wanted a bunch of Pros to come to the scene, and they did.
But now, someone is trying to set off multiple bombs throught the city, and they need this fight to end so Iida, Hawks and Yamomo can go diffuse them. Her gaze turns calculating, brows knitting together, mind squashing the pain down and into a box to be seen to later.
Ochako could take this on. It's two villains, a woman, already wounded - an shattered arm - and a man, already looking like he's ready to scarper. They don't know their exact Quirks, but Ochako has an idea.
The woman has a has a vision Quirk. She's going off a guess, but she's pretty sure it must increase how far she can see things, since she been able to see people coming at them from all angles. The man's Quirk is these weird looking wiggly, black things coming out of his back. They're both offensive and defensive, catching bullets and throwing people at windows.
What Ochakos needs to do is get closer to the man. He's a long distance fighter, and Ochako is much better at being close range. But he's also not the person who's putting the most amount of civilians in danger...
Ochako makes up her mind.
"Creati, Ingenium, Hawks!" She calls, getting their attention. Yamomo is crouched behind a shattered bit of wall and Iida is engaged in a battle-of-the-wills with the woman. "Let me handle this!"
"No!" Is the resounding reply from her classmates, Hawks doesn't say anything, yellow eyes tilting and piercing her with their sharp-tipped gaze. Iida falls back, collecting Yamomo and running over to where Ochako is lying behind another piece of wall.
"Ochako," Yamomo starts, her brow furrowed. "we can take them down together."
"But they need you!" She replies, waving her hand in the direction of the city. "You need to make that bomb detector and Iida, you need to find them. I can take on these guys." She cracks her knuckles.
"Ochako!" Iida says, aghast. "I would never dream of leaving a fellow classmates in danger like this, as class rep-"
"As Heroes," she says, desperately. "you need to prioritise the safety of the civilians. I've always been able to hold my own, and you know that. When we leave UA we're all gonna be independent, and even if we join agencies, there's no chance that we'll always be able to help each other. What the point of helping me, when even more people are being put in danger as we speak?"
They're both quiet after her mini-monologue, Yamomo naws on her lower lip and Iida opens his mouth, ready to keep arguing.
"Hey, she makes a good argument you know." Hawks butts in, swooping down to land on top of their rock. "What is the point of hanging round here? I've seen this girl in action, she handles herself better than some pros I've seen."
Yamomo still looks conflicted, but there's also a glint of determination in her eyes. "Alright, Ochako." She says, leaning forward to clasp their hands together. "If you're sure. But I need to know that you'll ask for help instead of putting yourself in too much danger."
"Of course I will, Yamomo." She lies, smiling and squeezing her hands. "Now go!"
Iida gives her one last look but then he's scooping up Momo and firing up his engines. After that, they're gone and Ochako is truly, properly alone.
At least they didn't see the bullet wound, she thinks, wryly.
"I can see the bullet wound." Ochako jolts, spinning around, fist cocked only to realises it was just Hawks. He raises his eyebrows, puts his hands up.
"Woah, slow down. I was just saying."
"I can still fight." She insists.
"Yeah, I know." He agrees, thumbs hooked into his belt loops. "Just letting ya know."
"I can do it." She says, more to herself than him. "I've fought stronger people and won!"
"Huh." He says, eyes on her frame, calculating. "Maybe I should've taken you as a sidekick." He says, consideringly, his arm snaking round her waist, hand flattening against her hip, pressing something into her pocket
And then he's gone, and Ochako is alone.
She pivots on her foot, does her best to push down the pain sparking in her side, and starts planning.
She'll need to get close to the man, if she wants to take him down. But... she should probably focus on the woman, since she's the one doing the most damage to the surroundings and therefore civilians. She grits her teeth, shifting her posture and trying to channel her inner Deku.
The woman is agitated. They don't know about the other two leaving, so she's probably waiting for them to come back, a surprise attack. She looks nervous, shifting on her feet, eyes darting around like she's looking for someone.
Are there reinforcements coming? A possibility, but she could also be waiting for the singal to run, that all the bombs have been set up. There's too many unknowns, she can't get the right angle.
She jumps into fighting anyway, triggering zero-gravity on herself and rising into the air, discreetly tapping some other rocks, just incase she can actually pull off the trick she tried on Bakugou back in the Sports Festival.
The woman notices her immediately.
"Where did all your little friends go?" She calls, hitching the gun further up her shoulder, tracker Ochako across the sky. She doesn't reply, letting the rocks plummet down.
The woman jerks, curses under her breath and fires off another round into he sky that Ochako dodges, sweeping to the side and letting down another dozen rocks.
She lets herself down gently, and ducks into battle.
The woman, with her shattered arm, is clumsy. Bullets flying everywhere. None of them hit Ochalo again, but it's a few dozen near misses that leave her her pounding.
She needs to get close. The man is hovering on the edge, eyes flicking this way and that. He's trying to decide, Ochako can tell. To leave and defend his parter, or leave. If they don't manage to set off the bomb, then he'll be safe, but if they do and make it out without being captured then he's a dead man walking.
Bang!
Ochako doesn't have time to analyse the man's every move, she has to focus on her right now. Sight Quirk, like Hatsume (thoughts of her and Deku fill her head again, but she manages to bet them away with relative ease, though the shadow of Hatsumes - cleavage hovers over her vision for a little too long) and what seems like a never-ending supply of bullets. She spins in a circle as Ochako ducks behind a section of destroyed wall, and she finds her chance, sprinting out and tackling her to the ground.
They spin, caught together, but the woman doesn't manage to squirm away in time. Ochako touches her with the pads on her fingers and manages to active her Quirk before the woman has wriggled out of her grasp.
Now they're in the air, tangled together in a messy embrace. The woman's elbow ends up somewhere near her jaw and knocks her off, sending her tumbling back into the sky.
Subdue her, Ochako thinks. All she needs to get is nail her down. The woman glowers, her gun had fallen out of her palms earlier, and is now - hopefully - smashed somewhere on the ground.
"Why are you doing this?" She yells across the space between them. The woman just glowers, not put off by being in the air.
"I know you won't drop me." She sneers. "Youre a Hero."
"I won't." Ochako confirms, because there's no point denying it.
"And I know what your Quirk is." She says, smiling, a slanted edge.
"Your probably do," Ochako replies, before round-house kicking her in the face, sending her flipping back in the air. "but what you don't know is how much I've improved since the Sports Festival."
And from there, it's a blur. A dense, packed-with- punches blur. Ochako gets clipped in the jaw again, sending a ringing through her ears, and a hit straight to her side, where the blood stain is spreading, spreading, spreading. It make her hiss, ache to curl up and lie down - but that's not what a Hero does, that's not what she does. Ochako grits her teeth and gives back as good as she can, fists and feet and elbows and knees and even her head at some point when they crash together and she uses her forehead to send the woman flying backwards.
In the end, they find themselves down from the sky and on a half-decimated rooftop, standing off. They're pretty evenly matched, the woman, while her Quirk not be as strong, is still powerful with the way she uses her body, a complete powerhouse. But she's injured, broken arm from before tucked into her side, a bleeding nose and covered in dust and little red scratches - it's the same with herself, she imagines. She blacking the pain of the bullet wound out as best she can, but it's still a dull pulsing in the back of her head - she can feel it in her teeth - and she's been tasting iron on her tongue for the last few minutes.
She makes the first move, swinging forward, getting blocked and spun around, slammed to the floor. She fits her calves around the woman's back and heaves them over till they're a rolling mess.
And then - a glimmer. A light at the end of the tunnel. Ochako gets her head into the crook of her elbow, tugging her down, down, down until her forehead brushes the concrete ground of the roof. Just one slam - and she'd be out for the count. And then, Ochako could lie there.
The woman goes still, apparently sensing her impending defeat. But a slow, sinister smile splits her face and a cold rushes through Ochakos body before she can stop it.
"What'd'ya think my Quirk is again, girl?" She asks, voice rough, sandpaper on wood.
"Vision inhancing," she answers warily, but not seeing a way in which this question could get her hurt.
The woman snorts, hacks out a globule of blood. "I bet you do. But it's not."
And then her arm shoots out, grabs something almost imperceptibly small of the ground. It- expands, growing bigger in front of Ochakos eyes until it's-
A gun.
She jumps back, knowing that no matter how skilled she is, Ochako doesn't know if she can't take another bullet wound, especially not one at this distance. The woman laughs.
"Now you're scared." She laughs, screams, almost. Loads the gun, swings it up onto her shoulder in one smooth motion, the barrel aimed right between Ochakos eyes.
She backs away, hands held high. She wants to talk, make her talk, Ochako, she tells herself.
"What do you mean that isn't your Quirk?" She asks. "It's registered."
"Ha!" The woman barks out a laugh. "I wrote it down wrong on purpose. I don't just inhance my vision," she says, smiling. "I can inchance any sense, hearing, touch, smell and sight."
"So, you inchanced your vision to see the gun?"
"You're a smart girl," she says, approvingly. "There's a guy with a shrinking Quirk in our team, he made a bunch of weapons tiny, so only I could see them. Just incase. His Quirk releases on contact."
"Smart." Ochako agrees.
"Like you," the smile fades. "making me talk instead of shoot."
And she pulls the trigger.
It's too fast - Ochako feels the pain, the burn as the bullet drills through her thigh, shooting out and leaving a gap in her leg. She collapes to the ground, crying out as her knees make contact with the roof, broken glass and debris cutting into her knees. Her breathing is shallow, and she can feel the blood oozing out of her wounds - the both of them, pain doubed.
"I'd kill you, but I guess you are just a kid." She continues, glass crunching under her boots as she walks closer. "And you did put up a good fight. But sometimes, you have to know when to give up."
Ochako stumbles back, falling. Chubby legs colliding with the dirt, bits of bark and stones digging into her skin. Her lower lip trembles and she ducks her head, hiding the tears stinging in her eyes.
"Why're your clothes so old?" The boy who shoved her asks, tone indicating that he knows exactly why they're like that, but he wants her to admit it. That's she's poor, and therefore worth less than he is, with his bleach-white shoes and branded shirts. Ochako turns her head away, tiny fists clenching.
Just lie down a take it, a voice croons, soft and soothing. Let them yell at you, they'll go away eventually. Another boy laughs, loud and ugly.
"Her hair's cheap too." He snarls, older than all of them, but still hanging down in their area of the playground. He's scary, Ochako thinks, voice small even inside her own head. He does scare her, to the very bone. He's taller and stronger and meaner than she is. He doesn't even have to touch her to hurt her, he just needs to send one of his lackeys over and they'll do it for him.
Ochako doesn't reply, looking down at her holey socks and scuffed trainers, her shop-brand shirts and dirty leggings. Am I dirty? She thinks, am I cheap?
Unbidden, an memory rises in her head.
It's an interview and she's watching from the stairs, still young but already worried about the bags under her parents eyes, their hair already turning grey. It's a boring adult show, and she almost decides to pad upstairs into her room and plan out what game to play with her friends tomorrow, when a colourful person appears. Ochako can't make out their face, blocked by the stairs, and she can't risk leaning down to get a better look incase she's spotted but she can still hear whatever they say. And it goes like this: "I was bullied in school. It wasn't bad, to say. I had friends and all, but there was this pack of boys who wouldn't leave me alone. My family was poor, we always had been, and I never had anything new. They were always hand-me- downs or stuff from the sale rack. And one day, they cornered me in the corner of our classroom, talking about how I was poor and stuff. And I thought to myself - why am I putting up with this? So I shoved one of them back. And at first, they all crowded around me, trying to make me back down again, but I'd made my bed and I was lying in it. So I shoved another one, and I told him to his face that he was "pussy little bitch." and he started to cry. I got told off that day, but they never tried anything with me again."
Ochako shakes herself off, thinks, why am I putting up with this? and brings herself onto steady legs. She marches forward and shoves one of the boys forward with all her might, pushing him back until he falls over. "Leave me alone!" She cries, picking up a handful of dirt and hurling it at him. They run away screaming.
The interview shines in her head again, and so does that day, so long ago. She was just a little girl, but she'd already learnt that she wasn't one to be cowed, to be shoved down.
She forces herself up to her shaky feet, and propells herself forward, only the faint, shaky outlines of a plan forming in her mind. The woman is caught off guard, but she punches Ochakos thigh wound and pushes her away. She almost falls over again, but comes right back, darting around, feigning and making as many small, hidden but not quite, movements with her fingers as she can. The woman is watching her, and when Ochako hurls some debris into her eyes, she doesn't even blink. Just dodges, laughs at her.
"That's a weak attempt at hurting me." She says, amused. Ochako throws another palm-full, which she dodges, and another, and another. She starts to get annoyed, eyebrows pinching. "When will you learn to give up?" She barks out, swinging her gun up to her shoulder.
And that's when Ochako throws her last palm full, springs and hits her dead-centre.
"You said," Ochako gasps, her hands flailing, grabbing and pulling. "that you could inchance one of your traits. But, I noticed, when we fought earlier, you didn't flinch when I knocked your arm. It means you have to take away from your other senses, doesn't it?" She asks, even as she knows the answer, climbing on top of the woman. "You can't feel me right now, so you couldn't feel this!"
And she pulls out the tranquliser Hawks had snuck into her utility belt. Plunging it deep into the woman's struggling, squirming body, she pushes the syringe in.
The woman stops squirming, flailing. Her breathing evens out, and eventually she falls still.
Ochako raises herself up on shaky knees, pulling out a pair of handcuffs from her belt and hooking the woman's wrists and ankles together. She wraps a strip of fabric around her eyes, tying it neatly at the back. Decides she can't really do anything about hearing, and her nose is probably so broken she shouldn't be able to smell.
She stands, staggers, leans to the side and retches out a mouthful of blood. She ends up spotting the man, finally having made his decision, running for his life.
Her body is weak, and her mind is hazy, her sight spotted with black, but she grips the other tranquilliser dart and throws it just as her body collapses. And as she lies curled up on the roof, she knows it landed.