Chapter Text
It goes a little something like this:
There’s a specific dense spot on the wall. When you put your earjacks against it, the soundproofing doesn’t matter. Maybe there wasn’t enough padding put in there, or maybe it’s connected to a structurally important support beam, but Kyouka doesn’t have an eye for construction - she has an ear for listening.
Some nights, she doesn’t get anything. She strains her ears all night until she hears those familiar, loud snores from the country girl that’s captured her heart.
It’s a gross violation of privacy. Ochako sleeps in her own room. The door is locked, the windows are closed, and as far as she knows, she’s alone, with only the night-tinged trees of the forest and the illumination of the dense suburbs below streaming in.
What does that make Kyouka? An invader? She certainly feels like the lowest scum in the world those nights, with her earjacks pressed against that particular spot on the wall listening to her light breathing, heavy snoring, the occasional mutter as she turns in her bed.
Ochako is a fidgeter. Kyouka can hear the duvet be pulled aside as she rolls noisily from one side of the bed to the other, the frame creaking loudly. Sometimes she’ll even snore so loud she wakes herself up, and the violette can imagine a comically large snot bubble popping. Those times, Ochako’ll snort with a start, her covers rustling against her pajamas as she sits up and looks around like someone hit a pot in her ear, before grumbling something in that cute Kansai dialect she can’t help but savour for how little the girl lets it slip. And then Ochako will slump back down on her bed, like a statement, or the period at the end of a sentence. ‘I WILL fall back asleep!’ Kyouka imagines her thinking, and inevitably of course she does.
Those nights, Kyouka feels like a shitty creep, but she just can’t help herself, and with her earjacks plugged against the wall she listens to the other girl’s snores, slightly muffles but clear enough that it’s like Ochako is sleeping in her bed right beside her, and she hugs her arms and legs around her pillow and holds it tight until she’s lulled to sleep alongside.
But some nights…
Some nights, every so often, in the witching hour, Ochako isn’t asleep. She sits still, clacking keys in her laptop like a machine and only pausing periodically to consider her next paragraph, or scribbling down notes at her desk with the occasional scrape of her cheap plastic chair against the floorboards, and Kyouka knows these nights she’s waiting.
A bubble of tension will form in her stomach. Tonight, Kyouka’s waiting too.
The clock will strike twelve. She knows this, because a little alarm on her phone goes off at that time exactly? Why? Because, as she has heard innumerous nights before, so has Ochako’s. And, invariably, only a few minutes after that alarm goes off…
Creeaaakkkk-clik.
“Good evening, Chako~!”
TOGA fucking HIMIKO from the League of Villains, who have been gunning for the heads of her class, who’ve tried to kill her and her classmates multiple times now - who’ve spread fear and terror across Japan with their Nomu - whose benefactor stood toe-to-toe with All Might at Kamino - who Ochako attested attacked her, stabbed her, tried to drain her blood with a sickening dagger-sharp smile on her face and a crimson aura of sadistic glee! - That Toga Himiko slides in through her classmate’s window.
And Uraraka Ochako, hero student and her fellow classmate, the girl she crushes on and the woman she admires, greets the wanted villain with a kiss on the cheek.
Sucking in a quiet breath, Kyouka plugs her earjacks into the wall deeper, strains her hearing just a little more, and when she does this she can pick up every quiet little breath.
Ochako’s lips leave Toga’s cheek with a soft, wet pop that drives Kyouka’s ribs into her spine. It’s a crushing feeling she’s addicted to - who knew heartache could hurt so good? Toga’s shoes make soft contact against the little carpet Ochako must have put against the wall where the window is, dulling the sound. With one, two steps, she’s pressing Ochako into her bed.
“I missed ya. What were ya doing?” Ochako breathes. Her throat bobs and clicks.
Himiko giggles musically. Kyouka can picture the blush on her face - it’s always there, even on the CCTV footage from the yakuza raid. “Doing stupid villain shit. You?”
“Doin’ badass hero shit,” Ochako chuckles. Kyouka swoons. She’s totally at peace, and her eyes would be half lidded if Kyouka was in that room with her. When Toga’s around, her country accent comes out full force. It’s like an attic ladder held back by a latch, one which only Toga has the reachy stick thing for.
She never lets it out around Kyouka. No, that privilege is for only when she’s far away, or hisses something indiscernible to anyone else when she’s hurt during practice. Only then will Ochako let her adorable drawl out with a ‘fuck’n-!’ or ‘nuts!’ or something equally heartmelting.
Kyouka’s heart burns like a furnace and thrums like a motor as she listens. It’s so, so unfair. Why does Toga get to have Ochako? What’s she doing wrong? Is she really such a bad friend, such an unappealing woman, such a hopeless girl that Ochako’d choose the villain over her?
Ochako’s jammies and Toga’s school-uniform-probably chafe against each other, the soft sounds of fabric shuffling and plastic buttons clinking almost deafening. Toga and Ochako breathe face-to-face, in sync, probably just staring into each other’s eyes. The cheap bed groans with the weight of two.
“I’m so happy I got a break, Chako~ Shiggy and the others are so boring lately,” Toga whines. There’s a creak, and another accompanying it, heavy weight redistricting into a smaller point. Ochako’s sitting up on her bed, the villain across from her. If Kyouka really concentrates - and her hero training aids this, to her shameful delight - she can even hear the soft thump-thump-thump tromping of the gravity girl’s heartbeat.
“Schools’ been normal too,” Ochako responds. “Deku and Iida are workin’ on new super moves. I’ve been tryna work on som’n with Tsu and Kyo as well, but it’s tricky… I wish you could come to girls’ nights so bad, Himi…”
“Me too,” Toga sighs. “But that doesn’t mean we can’t have our own girls’ night sometime!”
“Yeah!” Ochako cheers. The bed creaks a little more. If she was looking through Himiko’s eyes, Kyouka would imagine the other girl threw her fist up when she said that, bouncing up a little. Every action Ochako made was full of exuberant joy and energy, a pep in her step that let her bounce like she was on the moon. She looked so natural in the air, hung amongst the stars.
The sounds coming from the bed indicate Ochako and Toga are cuddling now. One of them pulls out their phone, and for a little while Kyouka’s heart is soothed and scratched by the blathering cacophony of short-form video clips as the two girls squabble and giggle, switching from one video to the next, making a game of finding something to show the other before they swipe away right before the punchline hits. They trade in-jokes Kyouka understands too, because she’s been listening for that long, but it can’t replace actually being there.
Because Jirou Kyouka is an unwanted voyeur. Isn’t it ironic that between the vampire and herself, she’s the real parasite? Latched onto the wall like a lamprey she steals the warmth of any joy the two share and holds it close to her own heart in the vain hope it’ll sooth the freezing cold. Kyouka has no place upstairs. Downstairs, jacks to the wall, is a pathetic consolation prize. She could cry.
And finally, when they’re both holding laughs so hard their faces must be red and their eyes must glisten with tears, Ochako digs the knife a little deeper inside. “D’ya, wanna… y’know…” she offers coyly. Is she looking Toga right in the eyes or blushing away shyly, cheekmarks encompassing her face? Kyouka will never, ever be privy to that information.
“Do I what?” Toga asks. Her heart confirms she’s genuinely clueless.
“Are you… thirsty?” Ochako whispers.
Toga scoffs. “I had some blood pretty recently, so you don’t have to worry about-”
“Maybe I don’t hafta,” Ochako continues unabated, a little more intensity that makes goosebumps litter Kyouka’s clammy skin. “But I wanna. I know ya like drinkin’ from me…”
“Yeah, but-”
A hand claps down on Toga’s… shoulder? Thigh? Ochako’s likely staring her down more intently. “Toga himiko. You remember the line about me giving blood?”
Topa sighs with dry bemusement, reciting the lines like they’re from a schlocky old comedy. “When I say, blood, you say…”
“How many loops in th’ straw?” Ochako finishes, stifling a giggle in her hand.
Kyouka wonders if Himiko rolls her eyes. She knows she does, every time they go through this routine. “Honestly, I don’t know why you find that joke so funny. You’re lucky you’re so, so cute,” she whispers fondly.
“You’re cuter. My cute, cute girlfriend. Cutest girl in the world.”
“Well, you’re the cutest girl in the galaxy!”
“Yer the cutest in th’ whole dang universe!”
“Yeah, well-! Hm. What’s bigger than the universe? Chako~, you’re the space girl, help me out here!”
“I ain’t helpin’ ya cheat.”
“Meanie. I thought I was the villain here. You’re evil, evil, evil!”
Kyouka stifles a sob. If she closes her eyes and Ignores Toga’s voice, maybe Ochako could be saying that to her. Maybe Ochako could be in the bed next to her, and not her pillow that’s cold to the touch.
Because every night Toga visits now, that’s what the routine is. Upstairs, on the fourth floor, Toga and Ochako share a blissful night of love and intimacy, and directly below their room, Kyouka leeches off of it, feeding off the little drips that drop from the floorboard cracks. She knows she’s scum but she can’t stop because each mouth of ash is laced with the irresistible ambrosia of those words, those eyes, that hair, those lips, everything Ochako has given to someone else.
And when she listens, she closes her eyes and suppresses the throb in her throat and the pang in her ugly, underdeveloped chest, and she pretends that someone is her.
“Maybe ah’m evil,” Ochako chuckles. “Maybe ah’m not. How’re ya gonna prove it?”
“Maybe I can… taste it in your blood,” Toga crawls slowly over the bed to Ochako, each creak and groan of the bed’s legs against the floor audible. With an unbelievably quiet sound Kyouka almost doesn’t hear, Kyouka's plush lips collide with Ochako's neck. Ochako lets out a soft sigh.
“But you could never be evil, Ochako,” Toga continues, a sad, wet love in her voice, truer than any sugary-sweet simpering. “How could you be evil… if you give so much?”
In lieu of a response, Ochako just sighs happily. Her heartbeat speeds up a bit. There’s some more shuffling, and neither girl speaks until Toga breaks the silence once more.
“You’re so cute, Chako…” Toga husks. Ochako’s breath hitches - that must be Toga’s teeth against her neck. Kyouka’s own ache in miserable jealousy. She’s about to bite down, draw blood, and Kyouka’s pressed completely against the wall, skin feverish with dizzying anticipation.
Toga giggles. Ochako gasps quietly, a thunderstorm in Kyouka’s ears that kicks up everything that isn’t nailed down in her mind. “Sometimes, I don’t wanna be me. Sometimes I just wanna be you…”
‘I hate you, Toga,’ Kyouka fumes internally, pressing herself closer against the cold wall as she hugs her pillow more tightly yet, wet spots beginning to appear on its stark white cover. ‘Why do you want to be Ochako? I’d love to be you…”
In retrospect, Kyouka doesn’t know if it all started when she first heard the window open upstairs, or during orientation, when she first met Ochako.
See, Jirou Kyouka - previously Jirou not-telling-you-my-fucking-boy-name - is a simple girl, and she’s a little slow on the uptake with absolutely everything. She doesn’t even realize she’s a girl until she’s fourteen, and doesn’t have the courage to bring it up with her parents until she’s sixteen. The fruits of her labour are frame more resembling a cardboard box than the hourglass she fantasizes about, and a chest that can’t hold very much booty. If it’s any consolation, she’s always been short with narrow shoulders, but it isn’t.
She’s always liked instruments, and even has a knack for it, but she knows she could’ve been even better if she’d started playing them at age ten instead of age fifteen. And she’s the last one invited to a dodgeball team because of her weedy little frame, and the last one to speak up in class because of her boring little voice, and the last one invited to the party because of her boring little half-baked personality - and that’s if she’s invited at all.
That, if she’d been asked to pitch it as a film, would be her introduction, and she’d expect it to be booed out of the pitch room. Ochako introduces herself to Kyouka with the sun shining bright and the smell of flowers and dew streaming in through the classroom window. On the first day, she - and Mina - corral the girls together, smiling and sunny and picture-perfect front-cover heroes, and invite them to the group chat they just made. She’s effortlessly friendly, first to give a cheer or a pat on the back during the trials, and conceals an elusive strength to her that Kyouka gets the feeling she hasn’t had the chance to show off yet. She throws a ball into space, secures the bomb in the battle trials, and just like that she’s captured Kyouka’s heart.
The feeling, like gravity, only gets stronger the closer to Ochako she is. On the training mat, Kyouka stares up at her in awe and admiration despite the soreness in her muscles as she’s thrown down onto the mat ten out of ten times. Is it gauche to say she wishes she was that sweatrag?
It’s not just surface-level. Like her musculature, Ochako’s true beauty is hidden behind that initial plush layer, and Kyouka almost never misses the opportunity to reminisce about the first time the gravity girl sent her heart aflutter.
All six girls had been in the changing rooms, peeling off their costumes for the day. Momo and Toru commiserate about their uniform situations, making a mutual vow to contact the support labs, while Ochako and Mina chattered about this and that, Tsuyu humming as she quietly listened. Kyouka’s the only one not part of the crowd, because she’s sequestered away in a private stall so they - to be as blunt as Tsuyu usually is - don’t catch a glimpse of her dick and feel like puking. If she hadn’t been inured to the sight, she’d puke as well, only partially out of anxiety.
And on the topic of dicks, a sentence she never thought she’d think, today the girls are caught up in a nonsensical conversation about the boys, perhaps a product of the adrenaline crash they’d all felt after class was over.
“Mm… maybe Deku, he’s pretty cute,” Ochako chuckles. “I dunno, though. We’ve only known each other for a little bit. What about you, Tsu?”
“Hmmm…” Tsuyu gives the question some serious thought, though the full depth of her concentration isn’t visible on her naturally blank face. “I do like Sato. I’d have to know him for longer too, though.”
“Well, Sato’s huge, I kinda get it. Extra huge.” Mina waggles her eyebrows, and Momo gasps, scandalized. “But, like… biggest? I betcha anything it’s Sero,”
She chortles. “Sero, kero?” Tsuyu ribbits confusedly, and Kyouka stifles a snort. It rhymes. “Why him?”
“Ah, my dear froggy little initiate, let mama Mina teach you a thing or two in the art of men.” Mina drapes an arm over Tsuyu’s shoulders and whispers in like the gospel and nirvana are on the tip of her tongue. “It’s always the plain ones.”
Tsuyu nods. “I see. It was foolish of me to doubt you.”
“Many are made fools by the same circumstance,” the pink girl smugly states, wagging a finger around. “Hey, what’s that noise? The boys are getting louder.”
“Want me to sneak in and check it out?” Toru suggests.
“Ew, gross! Toru!” Mina chokes on her own laugher, astonished. “Why is everything you propose something about stripping and sneaking around to see dudes in the buff?”
“I’m a very transparent gal.” If she had visible eyebrows, they’d be shimmying up and down on her forehead. Alas, she does not, and the physical comedy is lost on the five other girls.
“Wait, I’ve got an idea. Kyouka?” Ochako calls out, voice lightly echoing off the tiled walls of the locker room. It’s like a siren’s song, and Kyouka’s already swallowed the bait, feeling herself slowly reeled out. Dressed in her casuals she tentatively exits the stall and perks up at Ochako’s expectant gaze. It’s a special feeling, like a bubbly spritz, when the girl you’ve got a crush on needs you for something.
“Y-Yes?” She stammers, looking like a fucking idiot. Luckily, none of the girls comment on her sputtering, and Ochako points at the wall.
“The boys are making some noise. Think you could tell us what’s up over there? We’re all a bit curious…”
Everyone, even the ever-prim Momo, nods along at her statement. Kyouka’s always been more delicate when it comes to other people’s privacy. Having a quirk that lets you hear people’s deepest secrets and most private moments does that to you, and if she kept count of how many classmates had confronted her in the halls after class and sworn her to silence whilst hissing between their teeth in embarrassment and indignation she could paint a wall with the tallies. Kyouka’s mind and lips are a locked box, and she prefers to keep it that way, rather than risk alienating her peers and ensuring nobody wants to ever be within her vicinity at all.
But it’s Ochako asking, and so the stupid little girl in love that Kyouka is splits her lip upon the hook and says “I-I guess I could!”
She stretches one earjack out, a little self-conscious of how it looks - some think they’re gross - and presses it against the wall.
“-fuck off, just… maybe we can call Yaoyorozu to plug it up or something? She can make something like that!”
“Aww, you’re all pansies,” the ear-spittlingly irritating nasal drawl of Mineta assaults Jirou’s ears. “This is a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity!”
“Mineta! Relent at once!” Iida yells. “You must respect the privacy of our female classmates! This behaviour is unbecoming of any upstanding citizen, let alone a hero course member at the most prestigious academy in Japan!”
“They’re yelling at Mineta about something. I think he was being a perv or whatever,” Jirou seethes, clenching her teeth. “God, I hate that little fucking twerp!”
“He is rather unpleasant. At least the boys are… not on his side?” Yaoyorozu tries. Kyouka nods, tiredly, directing her attention back to the boys’ locker room.
“Mineta. If you don’t stop it, I’m getting a teacher, or just stopping you.” That’s Midoriya. He’s kind enough, Kyouka supposes. Hangs out with Iida and Ochako, and they’re all friends. She doesn’t know him very well, but from what Ochako says, he’s naturally heroic that way. When she says it, there’s a little hiccup in her breath, like she’s hiding something. Jirou’s not sure what it means.
“Oh, c’mon, I thought you were a hot-blooded man! We’re gonna be heroes, what hero doesn’t have girls hanging off his shoulders!? Right?” Mineta’s comments don’t receive any assent from the boys. A few of them sigh in consternation. Jirou relays this as well, eliciting disgust from the girls. Ochako in particular looks like her skin’s crawling, and Kyouka wants nothing more than to comfort her closely if it wasn’t for the fact she’s still half-naked, and they’re both in the locker room, and she really doesn’t want to get a bad reaction if Ochako accidentally feels her bulge as they’re hugging, and she’s also still busy acting as their amplifier for the boys’ commotion.
“C’mon! Not one of you guys? Dudes? Sato? Man, don’t you like Ashido?”
“A mean, it’s a small crush, but i don’t see what it has to do with being a perv,” he mutters. “Just… just stop, man.”
“Now Sato’s telling him off too,” Kyouka murmurs. “Also, apparently he has a crush on you, Mina.”
“Really?” she exclaims in shock. “Aww man, poor guy. I mean, he’s a beefcake, but I don’t like him like him, y’know?”
“That’s what Mineta says,” Kyouka confirms. A twinge of guilt hits her, having carelessly revealed that little secret of her classmate’s. She hopes Sato can forgive her, or better yet, that it never comes up. She keeps listening.
“Think, bros, think!” None of the others seem to appreciate being called his ‘bros’. “Hagakure’s floating underwear, huh? Ojiro? Yayorozu, how about her, she’s fucking stacked! Or Tsuyu, that ass! Huh? Huh? I know you’ve all thought it! And Mina’s got curves in all~ the right places!”
Kyouka suppresses a shudder at his lecherous words, reluctantly relaying the condensed versions to her classmates. “He’s… talking about your… bodies.” She gulps. Tsuyu looks absolutely fucking furious. “Your, um… I don’t want to go into detail.”
“Hey, hey, Midoriya, are you-? Don’t get Aizawa, man, untold treasures await! What about Uraraka?”
Kyouka goes frigid, and glares so hard her forehead hurts. ‘Don’t you fucking DARE.’
But her thoughts can’t stop his unhinged tirade. “She's pretty fat up top, even if she’s… ehh, yknow, kinda fat in some areas, but who doesn’t like a thicc girl?”
Her heart drops out of her chest. In less disgusting words… she’s noticed the same. Every inch of Ochako is beautiful, and every time she notices she’s staring she has to drag her eyes away. Ochako’s ample chest has a gravitational pull of her own and Kyouka hates herself for looking in the first place. Isn’t it gross? Her soft pudge, the few times she’s bumped into her, is warm and welcoming and makes her skin almost radiant. Kyouka craves an Ochako hug like nothing else, especially when she’s wearing a tank top and those soft arms are against her skin, because they feel like silk pillows. And when she ratchets up the tension and flexes, muscle surfaces from beneath, tough as steel, and it makes Kyouka want to swoon!
Does that make her like Mineta? Kyouka feels acid in her throat. “He’s talking about… you, Ochako.”
Mineta licks his lips, and she cringes at the sound, flinching away from the wall. It’s liker a train crash, she can’t stop listening, mouth screwed shut.“She bitches about that skintight suit but I bet she loves the stares she gets from wearing it, the slu-”
“That’s enough!” Denki yells. There’s the sound of scrabbling and a bang against a locker, sending the ring of metal reverberating through their locker room, like someone slipped and fell against it. “This is- this is way too far, man!”
“He said… and now Denki’s yelling too,” she dully recites. “Ojiro’s yelling. Another bang. Midoriya’s saying something, but Iida’s saying something too, I think he’s reciting the rulebook? Mineta’s talking about you again, Momo…”
Momo harumphs. Kyouka returns to focusing on words from the other side.
“Thinking about a cute girl isn’t the same as, like, creeping on her!” Kaminari yells.
“Kaminari said thinking about a girl isn’t the same as creeping,” Kyouka repeats.
“You’re fucking lame, I thought you were cooler.”
“You’re fucking lame, thought you were cooler. That was Mineta again.”
“You know what? Fuck you guys, leave me alone then, and I’m gonna treasure this bounty all by myself! Six beautiful babes behind the wall- well, five, Jirou’s basically a dude with a skirt, but five out of six ain’t bad!”
Kyouka freezes, her mouth freezing moments after, as her veins are filled with the icy horror that she just recited every last fucking word for all the other girls to hear. A quick glance back reveals they look horrified and furious. At least it’s directed at Mineta.
She hears clambering as they all try to grab him, but he slips from their grasp. Iida bites out a curse. “Geronimo!” Mineta hollers, throwing himself against the wall.
Hollowly, she drags her hand across the girls’ side of it, conscious of how wide and broad her digits must look to the others, and feels for the little hole before sticking her earphone jack straight through and into his eye. Mineta shrieks shrilly, yelping in pain like a cartoon character, and falls backwards on his ass. Moments later, the other boys subdue him and drag him off kicking and screaming, Kirishima yelling for Mr. Aizawa.
Kyouka stands back up straight, robotically, and turns to grab her gym bag. “I’m heading out,” she says as quietly as she can. Even seeing a mirror is gonna set her off, and she can’t help but picture herself from a million camera angles in her mind’s eye. Shoulders hunched, she shuffles out as the girls break out of their aghast trance and clamour to try and get her to stop, but they’re all half dressed, and by now Kyouka is a machine. She briefly catches a glance of a guilty looking Denki coming from the boy’s locker room before she books it up the stairs of the heights alliance. She tries to think nothing, and nothing is what fills the gap between the moment she’s in the locker room and the moment she’s on her bed, stuffing her face into the mattress as hard as she can so the pain in her nose overrides the prickling itchiness of hating her own skin. She’s not sure if she enters a fugue state of some kind or if Ochako was right on her tail.
Knock
Knock!
Knock!
Ochako hammers worriedly on the door. With her sensitive hearing she realizes the other four girls are right behind her, all murmuring worriedly. Ochako knocks again.
“...Kyouka? Can I come in?”
Hot shame and disgust and dysphoria and a cocktail of other emotions she’s never been able to deal with cascade all over her at once. The murmuring and whispering is too much, and it reminds her of high school even if the other girls aren’t being mean at all. The sympathy is too much to bear, like a weight upon her chest. It bubbles and brews, and why can’t they just leave her alone!? And before the rocker girl knows it, she explodes.
“LEAVE ME ALONE!” she screams, knowing they can hear the tears gumming up her voice. “GO AWAY! I– I’M FINE, JUST GO!”
All five of them try to speak, and it’s overstimulating, and she’s not sure if Ochako somehow psychically knows or if it’s just a stroke of good luck but she shushes them. “I’ll take care of her, we’rer overcrowding her. We can talk later, okay?” It’s a clear instruction to go, one the others follow. Mina, Tsuyu, Momo, and Toru hesitantly leave.
“I-It’s okay not to be okay, Kyouka…” Ochako sighs. There’s a thump against the door, the slight rap of Ochako’s knuckles, as she sadly rests her hand on the wood.
Kyouka stubbornly pretends not to hear her. She knows she’s being immature, she knows it’s embarrassing, but she just… can’t talk about it. Not without looking ridiculous, or creepy. Logically, she knows she’s a woman and valid and it’s not wrong to share the girls’ locker room and all that other crap but she just can’t internalize it, and she knows it’s irrational but she can’t feel any other way no matter how much she tries and it’s just TOO FUCKING MUCH AND-!”
Kyouka’s fingernails dig into the sides of her face, leaving small red crescents. “I really don’t think you should be alone right now,” Ochako states, conspicuously not leaving or giving up. “You can make me go after but at least let me come in for a little bit, until you’re feeling better.”
“...”
Silence pervades.
“Kyouka, I want to respect your privacy, but I’m convinced you’re not okay, and I’m not going to deprive you of- of company right now, so open the door.”
Kyouka sniffles at that. “Just go…” she whimpers. It’s half-assed, and she knows it. Ochako can’t possibly hear it from the other side.
“I’m sorry in advance,” Ochako huffs. “Three.. Two…”
“W-What?” Kyouka hiccups. ‘A countdown? What’s she-?’
“ONE!” Ochako roars.
BANG!
The walls shake as Ochako barrels in, the door splitting off its hinges and Kyouka’s sensitive ears pick up the little screws and metal hinges clinking against the floor. Tall she stands, huffing, and she lowers her leg before taking a look at her handiwork. “Huff… ‘bit too strong,” she concludes, before raiding her eyes to the undoubtedly miserable sight of Kyouka on her mattress, covers thrown over the side of the bed, illuminated only by light from the hall.
Ochako grabs the door, applying her quirk with a soft pink glow and placing it against the frame before letting it go, pressing the cute pink pads on her fingers together. It was still a little wonky. “There we go! Sorry about the… door. I was really worried, Kyouka.” Turning back around, she whispers sad nothings under her breath and sits on the edge of the bed, careful to give the other girl her space.
“So… that sucked, huh?” she begins, awkwardly. Kyouka strains her neck back to stare at the back of Ochako’s head, rich chestnut locks forming a bob that gives her a peek at the girl’s smooth, strong neck. Even despite her moping, her heart still does loop-de-loops, and that’s when she notices Ochako is half-undressed on her bed, wearing only a tank top and boxers with her hero boots still on.
“You’re fucking crazy,” Kyouka grumbles. “Why didn’t you get changed?”
“You’re more important,” Ochako answers, not missing a beat, and Kyouka’s heart skips two.
“You broke my door. You’re insane.”
“Kyouka, please…” Ochako’s head tilts down, and she sighs, the air pushed out from between her lips a rich and deep noise that Kyouka greedily gobbles with her ears. “...please stop deflecting. I know Mineta said some really hurtful things. Not just about us, about… about you.”
“M’fine.”
“I used to tell my Ma that,” the girl laughed, weight shifting on the bed. “She told me that ‘people who’re fine don’t run off sulkin’!” She wagged a finger and did a country voice. Kyouka fought a smile as she pulled her face out of the mattress, noticing the interesting indent she’d left, and turned around.
She sat up straight. ‘Guess we’re having an actual conversation’, she acquiesced internally, and placed her back against Ochako’s, staring at the rock posters on the wall. Even through her heavy hoodie and the other’s tank top she could feel the faint ridges of Ochako’s spine and back muscles.
“It’s stupid,” Kyouka relents, noticing how rough and scratchy her voice sounds from suppressed tears.
Ochako’s hair swishes against the top of her head as she shakes it. “You never say anything stupid.”
“I say stupid shit all the time.”
“I don’t think so. Usually, everything you say is pretty cool.” Ochako giggles. “It’s a little intimidating, actually. Sometimes I’ll want to come up and talk to you, but… you’re got this… vibe, like you're too cool for anyone.”
Ochako wanted to talk to her? Kyouka stiffens against Ochako’s back, filtering the panic and fluster in her mind into something coherent. It’s a skill she picked up early, that disaffected drawl she speaks with that both masks the lower tones of her voice and doesn’t make her sound like a total loser. “I’m not all that…” she admits, one hand fingering an earjack contemplatively. “D-Did you really want to t-talk to me?
“Yeah! I kinda.. Wanted to be friends!” Ochako exclaims. Kyouka’s heart thrums too loud to hear any other sound in the room but the voice of the girl she’s back-to-back with. “Well, I still do. And with the USJ… I saw you after, and I was worried. I wanted to talk to you then, but Momo was, and then we all had to go home.”
Kyouka smacks her lips, ignoring the butterflies at the admission that her crush wanted to be friends as well. “Yeah…” she awkwardly trails off, not sure where to go from here. “And…that’s why you’re here now?”
“Yup!” she chirps.
“C-Cool.” The two of them are at a standstill. Despite barging in through her door, Ochako now waits patiently for Kyouka to move at her own speed. It’s that softness again, and Kyouka knows for certain that even if she falls Ochako could catch her and it wouldn’t even be uncomfortable. And so, breaking open the rusted door of emotional honesty, she decides to repay that earnest, gentle care with the truth.
“I-” her voice catches, and before Ochako can stop her she pushes through. “I-I really hate how I look. I really hate it. I-It’s the worst. Some mornings aren’t so bad, but others… others I feel like I’m hideous, like… like I’d rather be anyone else but me. I didn’t… I wasn’t…”
She releases a stressed breath, clutching her head again and slumping. “Fuck, this is hard,” she grumbles, and with a shuffle Ochako turns around and pulls the shorter girl into her chest, keeping her close and holding her tight, like a warm armoured blanket keeping the rest of the world out. She smells like chestnuts and sugar. It’s so hard to push the words out, but she wants Ochako to know, because she’s so kind and supportive now, and it would be impossible to dance around the fact, and she so desperately wants Ochako to accept it she’ll even risk the other girl’s complete rejection.
“I-I’m tr- I’m tr- I… wasn’t born as a girl…” Ochako’s hug tightens. Nerves and butterflies alike glow beneath Kyouka’s skin, like electricity. She feels like she could fly off with a single twitch, but Ochako’s there, keeping her grounded. Her gravity.
“I kinda… already knew,” Ochako admits with a little giggle. “Sorry. You always hide in the locker room, and one time when you were taking your costume off I… caught a glimpse of your boxers, which confused me because I didn’t know girls could wear boxers- which are actually really comfortable, by the way, I started wearing them because of you, and- sorry, I’m rambling.” She cuts herself off with a nervous, fluttery laugh, that Kyouka can hear through her chest, and the weigh weighing down on her completely dissipates.
“That’s… fuck, that’s such a relief,” Kyouka mutters. “I… I’m scared of telling anyone. Not that I don’t think they’ll accept it, but… it’s a lot.”
“Of course. Whenever you’re ready,” Ochako agrees, giving her a little warm squeeze. Her earjacks are nestled in the ridges of the larger girl’s tank top, listening to her soothing heartbeat, her own hammering drumbeat slowing to match.
“So… I just… I mean, look at me.” Her arm, still trapped under Ochako’s, makes an attempt at a gesture at herself. “I’m built like a mini fridge. I know nobody’s gonna be looking at me like the other girls, I know that, but- fuck, it’s so selfish, none of you are asking to be looked at either, so I know I should be grateful-! B-But if even the class perv won’t look at me, then-!”
“Shhhh…” Ochako whispers. Her breath is hot, Kyouka’s face hotter because of it, and all she can feel and see and hear is Ochako. “It’s okay, I kinda get it. Feelings are complicated. Sometimes I don’t like being as… curvy as I am. I get weird looks on the train, but when I get… the other looks on the train, they’re just as bad. It’s not a choice between the two.”
“But you’re super pretty,” Kyouka’s sad muffled voice calls out from within the plush embrace. “Everyone else is just stupid.” Her dumb crush is blossoming into something more rapidly, but there’s plausible deniability here. Girls can give compliments to their friends, that’s perfectly normal.
“That’s what I try to tell myself, but believing it’s different. I bet it’s like that for you too. Do you think you’re pretty, Kyouka?”
Her silence is telling. Kyouka considers lying, but that would be too exhausting, and she knows Ochako wouldn’t believe it. After everything she’d already said, anything but a no would be outlandish. Ochako hums thoughtfully, knowing her answer.
“Well, I think you’re pretty.”
Kyouka tries to catch those damn fucking butterflies, to no avail. ‘Compliments between friends, that’s all it is. Compliments between friends.’
“Bull,” Kyouka mumbles. It’s a bare-faced attempt at fishing for more affirmation, and she knows it, and Ochako knows it.
“Well, let me count the ways,” Ochako hums. “I really like your hair. It’s so dark and silky, and it’s a really nice warm purple in the sun. And the way you cut it’s so… you, y’know? You’ve got a really good fashion sense in general, the first thing I think when I see you is ‘whoa, she’s cool!’. Your eyeliner is super cute as well. I kinda want you to teach me sometime, because when I get to see it up close I’m jealous I can’t do it that well!”
“I-I can show you- D-Do it for you- sometime!” Kyouka stammers, and Ochako lets out a musical giggle.
“I’d love that, Kyouka. Your name’s really nice, too. Kyou-ka. It’s pretty. You picked a good one. And I like your little… earjack thingies, they’re so expressive even when you’ve always got this cool, this cool disaffected look on, but i can tell when you’re really nervous or excited! It makes it easier to talk to you… it’s how i knew you were really not fine.”
Kyouka sniffles. “You really mean all that?”
“All that and more,” Ochako reassures her. “I wasn’t done yet. Do you want me to keep going?”
“N-No, it’s… too much.” That’s kind of a lie. Kyouka absolutely wants her to keep going, but enough’s enough for now, and she’s sick of noise and confusion. She just wants to hug her friend in peace and quiet, and revel in how nice Ochako is. The crush- no, the beginnings of early love she cherishes in her heart keep her feeling warm and buoyant, and she closes her eyes and breathes in deeply. Ochako must notice the shift in mood because with two loud thumps she shucks her hero boots off onto the floor and brings Kyouka down onto the pillow.
“You tired?” she asks.
“Dead tired,” Kyouka responds, shimmying up a bit so she can stare into her rich brown eyes. Ochako’s smile deepens, stretching her ever-present blush marks, and with a stretch and prod she repositions her arms to properly hold Kyouka against her.
“Havin' a catnap?”
“You bet,” Kyouka chuckles. “Ochako… thanks for today. I… it means a lot. More than you know.”
“Anything for a friend,” Ochako “I’ll be here the whole time, Kyo.”
Kyouka’s too wiped out to even raise a brow. “Kyo? We doing that now?”
“Yup!” Ochako giggles. Her heart thumps ba-dum ba-dum ba-dum.
“Cool,” Kyouka responds lamely, and reluctantly closes her eyes. Sleep comes easily.
And perhaps that’s when it happened. The first time she and Ochako slept in the same bed after her fellow classmate comforted her, assuaged her worries and held her tight and made her sure everything would be alright. A few days after, Ochako subtly brought up the topic of trans people at the girls’ table during lunch, and everyone was supportive. A few days after that, Kyouka finally came out to the rest of them, a supportive Ochako out there with a comforting hand on her shoulder.
How could that bud of a crush not blossom when given so much sunlight and water? Reliving those memories feels like they were almost the present day, even when the reel is scratchy and slightly faded from replaying it in her bed so many times to the soundtrack of Ochako’s sleeping heartbeat.
The next time she oh-so-foolishly fools herself into believing she might have a shot (like a fool), Kyouka and Ochako are walking together in Kiyashi Ward Shopping Mall, their exams done. Everybody had split off from each other to grab supplies for it. Kyouka’s not exactly sure why. It’s not like it’s gonna be an actual camp, right? Aizawa had made it pretty clear it was a glorified bootcamp. Kaminari’s ginne be real disappointed that he won’t get to use the tent he plans to buy, but she won’t be the one to burst his bubble.
Ochako, thriftily, quickly informs Kyouka of her plans to buy absolutely nothing and tags along with her instead. Kyouka, for her part, never planned to use the day as anything more than an excuse to shop with friends, the quintissential high school girl experience - even if it’s a bit late.
“Check out these jammies,” she drawls, picking out a cute set, pink and fluffy. It’s a voluminous onesie with an otter head hoodie that reminds her of Ochako. “Put them on, you’ll look adorable.”
“Will I?” Ochako tilts her head, adorably.
“Yes,” Kyouka replies deadpan, heart compensating for her face’s lack of reaction. She gently gives Ochako a nudge into the dressing room. Ochako had lamented her lack of nice pajamas, and in Kyouka’s opinion nobody should have to subject themselves to sleeping in shirts and boxers like an old man - never mind that Kyouka does it. It’s punk rock when she does it. Honest. Ochako, though, feels like the girl who has a room filled with cute things. Not to the extent of Mina or Toru, sure but not at the opposite end like her.
With the last zip of a zipper, the veil pulls back. “H-How do I look?” Ochako squeaks, pawing away at the dressing room curtain with one of the onesie’s closeable sleeves.
Wordlessly, Kyouka shoots her a thumbs up. “You look…. Rockin’”
“I do not look rockin’! I look like a… like a…”
Ochako loses herself for words, Kyouka snorts. “You look badass. Honest.”
“Liar!” Ochako points, but since he hands are covered with big fat mitten paws it’s more of a full-arm thrust. Half-honestly Kyouka awws at it, infuriating her further. Ochako’s fun to drive up the wall when she’s not driving Kyouka up to the ceiling with giddy gayness.
“I’m being honest, Ochako!” Kouka laughs. “But seriously, you look super goddamn cute in it. You gotta get it, everyone’s gonna love it, they’ll be all over you at camp.”
“Eheh, ah…” Ochako’s own laugh peters off as her hands slowly drop to her sides, one absently pawing at the tag. “Maybe not. I don’t really need it, and it’s a bit stuffy anyway, and I can’t use my hands in it. There’s no point anyway, it’s not gonna help me sleep better or anything.”
Kyouka shrugs, glancing around at the other racks. “If you’re sure, I guess. Anything else you think looks good? Or I could choose something else…?” Her voice trails off with a hopeful lilt, earjacks, tapping together nervously.
“Nah, I’m good,” Ochako smiles, whipping back the curtain and unzipping the jammies to abandon them in a nearby clothesbin. “Hey, are you planning on buying anything?”
“Nah, this isn’t really my type of joint,” Kyouka turns on her foot, Ochako bounding up to walk beside her. “Too cutesy.”
“Oh. But I think it would really suit you…”
Kyouka raises an eyebrow. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Hey! Look, a music store!”
Kyouka’s attention is immediately seized. Time passes in a blur for her as she inspects their wares, gauging them to see if they’re up to snuff. The pink-haired girl running the store, unfortunately, is an absolute wreck when it comes to customer service, so Kyouka can’t et much information about anything, and she leaves with a sigh. Towards the entrace, Ochako lingers, eyes tracing over a few basic acoustic guitars.
“So expensive…” she gasps, stroking her chin. “Geez, I don’t know how music people buy anything…”
“Expensive?” Kyouka squats beside her, sizing up the thing. “It’s on a cheaper end, actually.”
“No way.”
“Yes way. They get wayyy more expensive than this one, Ochako, this is a basic one for beginners. Honestly, the price isn’t even that bad, mine is way pricier.”
“How much did yours cost?”
“Like 140K yen or so, Takamine DMP161C. Got it for a birthday.”
“That much!?!”
“I mean, for a pretty good guitar…” Kyouka’s voice trails off at the gobsmacked look on her friend’s face. Ochako’s reaction ins’t just a normal person’s reaction to something a tad expensive - she stares at the guitar like it’s worth its weight in gold, and her eyes flit back to Kyouka like she just revealed she owns a fucking time machine. Her heart betrays her silence, a hesitation interwoven into its beating like she’d been taken off guard. It’s subtle, but it’s there.
“...I guess it’s pricier for someone who doesn’t know as much about musical equipment,” she says instead, giving Ochako the easy out instead of the uncomfortable money talk. All Ochako has to do is laugh and go “ahahaha, yeah, I don’t know anything about music, can’t even play the triangle, oh Kyouka can you play your guitar for me and let me fawn over you and cling onto your arm and did I mention I’m a lesbian?”
Kyouka feels like her train of thought drifted slightly off the tracks there. Ochako, however, doesn’t take the offered escape.
“Nah, I just…” her heart speeds up. “...Just dealin’ with some money problems at home… for a while.”
“How bad?”
“Not great.” It’s a half-answer in spirit, and both of them recognize that. “Gotta be thrifty. I liked the pajamas but they were way too fancy for me to justify, so…”
Kyouka frowns. “You liked them?”
Ochako blushes atop her perpetual cheekmarks, looking away. “Uh-huh. I felt… cute in ‘em.”
“I can buy them for you,” escapes Kyouka’s mouth like a rocket.
“No!” Ochako immediately parries. “N-No, no, I can’t… that’s too much, they’re too expensive, don’t waste your money like that!”
“It wouldn’t be a waste. I’d be getting a nice gift for a friend,” Kyouka argues. That the friend is a crush is immaterial.
“You don’t need to do that!”
“I want to do that.”
“You need’ta stop wantin’ it then,” Ochako giggles. She scuffs her trainers along the mall’s tiled floors, and Kyouka notices they’re rather shoddy. A spoof of a larger brand, no doubt, though she wouldn’t know the name of it, and having visibly served their time with her well.
“I don’t want handouts,” she insists. “I’m a bit too proud for that. It’s a bit dumb, but it is what it is. If you bought me something that expensive I’d just feel bad about it afterwards, and I’d never be able to really afford getting you something nice in exchange. I don’t wanna be in your debt, Kyouka.”
“Well, I’m bad at math, so…” Kyouka cheekily grins, accepting an unamused huff from Ochako. “Fine, fine,” she concedes, hands raised placatingly, earjacks mirroring them. “Once you make it big as a hero we can buy each other nice things.”
“Yeah…” Ochako hums. “You know… that’s kind of why I wanna be a hero in the first place.”
“The money?”
“The money.”
Kyouka’s silent.
“...That’s pretty darn selfish of me, huh?”
“I mean, I wasn’t expecting it,” Kyouka swipes a bang away from her cheek with an earjack, getting just a slightly better loo at Ochako, at the apprehension on her face and in her figure. In her heartbeat, it pulses through her. “You seemed like one of the most hero-type heroes. You, Midoriya, Kaminari, Mina…”
Ochako didn’t answer, that expectant flutter still in her heart. She awaited judgement. And while Kyouka occasionally dabbled in being one seriously judgy bitch, she wouldn’t be that for her. Not when it seemed like she was practically begging for it. That wasn’t endemic to a selfish person, was it?”
“Most heroes don’t make it big, though. I mean, I believe you could do it, but loads of jobs pay good money for less work. You could be… I dunno, a stockbroker? No work there.”
“Not a chance in hell. Pa always raised me to value a hard day’s work as it’s own good,” she answers. “I figure if I’m savin’ people I’ll be deservin’ of the money that comes my way.”
“That’s a good mindset to have. Can’t save people on an empty stomach,” Kyouka agrees.
Ochako brightens up a little. “Yup! I just wanna make everyone smile. If I can save people and make ‘em happy, give my Ma and Pa a good, comfortable, swanky life… everyone wins!”
“Everyone wins doesn’t sound selfish to me,” Kyouka tells her, letting Ochako digest that for a little bit as the two of them walk side by side, hands separate yet swinging in sync. Ochako still seems to want to protest, but she has no words to spend, and so all she can do is fight the slowly-growing smile on her face courtesy of one Jirou Kyouka now that her mood’s been lifted back up.
Her smile’s as bright as the sun shining in through the mall’s skylight, and combined with the crisp outdoor air filtering in and the low, ambient chatter surrounding them, she can’t help but breath the mood in and let it out in bursts, her chest singing with with the joy of day. Despite herself, she begins to hum, a half pieced together composition she’s been rolling around in her mind for a while now. The one who inspired it was Ochako. She’d like to think it’s a love song, and humming it, figuring it out and developing it, cultivating it like a houseplant, all of this lets her take it each step closer to completion. Perusing a window for a nice pair of trousers, “Bup-bum-bum-ba-dup ba~” she sings beneath her breath, practically a whisper.
“What’s that?”
Kyouka pauses. “What’s what?”
“That! That song you’re humming!” Ochako chirps. “It’s catchy!”
“Oh, that’s… I, uh…”
What’s she supposed to say here? “Ah, yeah, it’s a song about how GAY I am for you Ochako, I’m GAY for you I’m GAY I’m HOMOSEXUAL it’s a song about HOMOSEXUAL LOVE and it’s meant to be paired with lyrics like ‘I like heroines, they make me feel so good! I like brunette girls, they make me feel so bad!’ Kyouka decides on a half-truth. “It’s just a little ditty I’ve been piecing together over time, nothing much really…” Her earjacks twiddle together shyly. “Don’t even have words for it.”
“Aww, that’s a pity,” Ochako slumps. “I really like it.”
Kyouka nods, and with no further response, moves on from that moment.
Ochako, though, doesn’t.
“Bup-bum-bum-ba-dup ba…”
Kyouka’s jacks swivel towards the humming beneath Ochako’s breath, hearing her song on another girl’s lips, and she gapes. “What’s that weird look for?” Ochako teases her. “It’s a nice song. If I can’t add it to my playlist, I can still borrow it like this, right?” She pats her pocket, right above her heart. “
Kyouka’s chest swells. “No prob. I’m, um, glad you like it.”
“Of course I like it!” Ochako laughs, patting her shoulder and leaving behind a warm feeling that cools far too quickly. “It’s yours, Kyouka. Plus, when I hum it, I’ll just think about what you told me, about not being selfish.”
“It’s not even done…”
“Then when you finish it, you can sing me the finished version, and I can update it!” Ochako responds effortlessly, bouncing on her heels and heading to the shop window, her tone brokering no argument, not that Kyouka would dare contradict her. The idea of one day singing Ochako the complete love song, one dedicated to her…
Kyouka nods. She’s already betaing lyrics in her head. “Sounds like a plan.”
More memories sprout where old ones fade out. Before everything went wrong in a storm of fire and fog, the six girls luxuriate in the rejuvenating warmth of water from the Wild Wild Pussycats’ resident hot spring. Kyouka had, of course, been the last one to join. Meeting one of her idols is nerve-wracking enough, and she’d found a spare moment to grab a signature from Tiger, but entering that hot spring was on a whole other level.
Chest and waist wrapped tightly with towels she’d triple checked the tightness of, she remembers the shock and awe and joy of walking into the connecting area, hearing the relaxed chatter of the girls in the springs with perfect clarity, she had come to a stop.
“O-Ochako?”
“Kyo! I was just waiting for you,” Ochako beams. Kyouka drags her gaze away from the exposed skin of her friend slash crush slash maybe love and plants it firmly on the bamboo pole walls. “Wanna go in?” her friend chirps. Kyouka nods shyly.
“It’s no different from the showers, and you haven’t hidden in the stalls for a while now, right?” comes her familiar encouragement. Kyouka nods again, more determinedly, and swallows her nerves, striding in with confidence she doesn’t really feel ahead of Ochako.
The spring is noisy with the sound of water sloshing and pouring and the other four girls splashing about, Mina laughing about something while Tsuyu and Momo watch amusedly, Toru in the buff as per usual and leaving a strange empty indent in the water. Mina whirls around, spraying droplets of water everywhere, and points at the two new entrants.
“You two! Get your raggedy behinds in here, we’re playing truth or dare! Mina Edition 2!”
“Mina Edition 2?” Kyouka snarks. “What happened to the first one?”
“The coroners still haven’t determined,” Mina shakes her head sadly.
“Maybe they got bored to death,” Kyouka retorts. Toru and Ochako whoop and holler while Mina mimes a burn on her arm, submerging sadly like a sinking ship. Or a submarine, because she's swimming under the mineral-rich milky-white water whilst humming the Jaws theme to herself, and Kyouka hears all. Hell, she can even hear what the boys are yapping about on the other side, but she's long since known how to tune things out with her quirk.
Mina the mariner approaches stealthily, and a pink hand shoots out to grab Kyouka’s leg. It misses by a mile. Mina’s sodden mop of hair and her horns is the first to reemerge and when she sees Kyouka’s legs pulled up onto the rocks she pouts. “You denied me my revenge.”
“You're the one who missed,” Kyouka shrugs, enjoying the banter.
“Maybe. Maybe so,” Mina concedes, but like she'd emerged from the water, a shark-like grin emerges onto her features. She almost looks like Kirishima. “But maybe you also forgot something.”
A distinctly unimpressed Kyouka decides to throw her a bone. “And that is?”
Mina leans forward conspiratorially, one hand cupped in front of her mouth. “Pshpsspshshh”
The other girl snorts. “Swing and a miss, Mina. You realise I can hear you're whispering nonsense syllables, right?”
“Oh fuck it, C’MERE!”
With a lunge she's too slow to avoid Mina grabs her ankle and throws herself back into the water, Kyouka being dragged along with her and colliding with the delicious warm water face-first. Her earjacks surface like a submarine’s periscope, and when Mina tries to scramble away they target her back with cold efficiency until she's a catatonic writhing mess in the shallow area, Tsuyu consoling her.
Kyouka rises like a creature from the deep, wiping her bangs out from in front of her face and giving her head a quick shake to clear the water out. “Learned your lesson?”
“Kero. Um, Kyouka? Tsuyu raises a hand. Kyouka tilts her head at her froggy classmate, whose face rises from its half-submerged comfort to speak to her. “You’re naked.”
Kyouka’s brain processes that about a millisecond too late, realising she couldn't feel the towels on her chest or waist. A frantic casting of the eyes over the springs reveals them nearby, floating in the water, and she tears through to grab them, wrapping them around herself in record time.
Mina's laughing up a storm with Toru, and Kyouka instinctively snaps her head to Ochako, who blushes so hard there's no line between her face and her cheek-marks. Her crush averts her eyes, stammering nothing under her breath, the beat in her chest thumping like a rabbit’s foot.
“I-I-I didn't see anythin’, Kyo!” Ochako pre-empts. ‘You fucking liar’, Kyouka responds in her mind, but she appreciates the attempt to preserve her modesty anyway.
Luckily, Mina’s two braincells form a connection and she decides to intervene. “Enough googly eyes, get over here! Momo, truth or dare!”
“D-Dare!” Momo responds. “You're meant to start with a dare, right? I watched a lot of movies for this!”
Unwilling to deny the naive heiress a simple pleasure of life, Kyouka steps over to the other four, Ochako behind her, the scarlet blush on their faces reluctant to leave due to the springs’ natural heat. “Right on, Yaomomo,” Mina chuckles. “Let's see… I dare you… to…” her eyes linger around for inspiration. “Drink a mouthful of spring water!”
“Oh my!” Momo looks aghast. “But those minerals aren't meant to be drunk, that would be unhealthy!”
“That's why it's a dare,” Mina enunciates. “It's just a mouthful. Drink! Drink! Drink!”
“Drink! Drink! Drink!” Toru and Ochako cheer after her. Kyouka's opinion, half-formed on her mouth to lay off Momo, is rerouted right to ‘drink!’, and she monotones it out alongside them. Tsuyu watches amusedly.
With a long and resigned sigh, Momo gracefully cups some of the milky white water in her hands and brings it to her mouth, before throwing it down like a shot and swallowing instantly, coughing and sputtering.
“Whooo!” Mina cheers, hyping her up. Tsuyu pats her back in sympathy. “Okay, Yaomomo, your turn to choose someone!”
“In that case, I shall choose… Toru!” Toru giggles at the attention. “Will you tell the truth or take a dare?”
“Truth!” Toru cheers. “And for the record, if any of all of your dares are to go somewhere naked and invisible, that's not a dare, that's Tuesday.”
“...Duly noted,” Momo blushes. “In that case, I must instead ask… what's the strangest place you've ever had an… escapade?
“Dad’s work,” Toru replies without hesitation. “I was a kid and it was bring your daughter to work day, and he was really busy so he stuck me in a plastic chair and gave me a phone and told me to stay there until he came back. That lasted about half an hour until I got bored, so…” Her form sloshed around a bit, making a hand gesture of some kind. “I stripped off and went exploring. I thought I was slick, putting my clothes on the chair like I was still sitting there, but it just looked like I was vaporized! Someone came to check on me and noticed I’d left my clothes behind and everyone was alerted to look for an invisible child. So they were ALL searching for me, I had to duck around their legs and Mission Impossible it out of there and back into the room when no-one was looking to get dressed again, and I pretended I’d been in the corner the whole time playing a prank.”
“Oh my,” Momo titters behind her palm. “That cannot have gone over well.”
“Yeah, he ripped me a new one,” Toru laughs. “They say on the hero’s journey the hero returns to where they came having learned a lesson, and boy did I ever.”
“That’s insane,” Ochako laughs, slapping her knee. It wobbles a bit Kyouka realizes she was looking and stops, knowing how futile it is. Ochako, like gravity, drags her eyes back towards her always. With a simple laugh, Kyouka’s enraptured, and that noise became the most interesting part of Toru’s entire story.
‘Sorry, Toru, but you're not Ochako.’
“Okay, okay, it’s your turn, Tsu!” Toru declares. Her form in the water wobbles. “Tr-”
“Dare, kero,” she ribbits without a second’s delay.
“Doggone it! I had a really really good truth lines up, too. Phooey,” the invisible girl sulks. “Well, then, a dare.. Tsu, Tsu, I dare you! Leave your tongue hanging out your mouth for half an hour… even when you're talking!”
Tsuyu obliges, letting the full ungodly length of her veritable third arm roll out, spooling around like a snake beside her in the warm rocks, and she slides back into the steamy depths. “If’s esy, ke’o” she nods at Momo, who pops an egg timer out from the back of her neck and clicks it dutifully, leaving it safely far from the water.
“‘Oeay. Yuf neft.” Tsuyu points at Mina. “Truf. Da’e. Chufs, ke’o.”
Kyouka and Mina both chuckle at her misfortune, and the latter squares up, puffing out her chest and putting on a tough face to-
“Truth.”
Tsuyu looks dissatisfied, which must be exactly what Mina was going for because she looks like the cat that got the cream, smugly smirking at the incensed little frog.
“Ogay. Wuft se’ ewah.”
“What? I'm sorry Tsuyu, I don't quite understand, can you repeat that?” Mina grins wider still. “Otherwise, I guess you'll have to forfeit your title of truth or dare empress, hmm? Thank you, Toru, my trusty minion!”.
Tsuyu grimaces bitterly, finger on her chin in a thinking motion before she dips a hand back into the water and drags it over the smooth stone nearby. Momo reads it over.
“Worst sex ever. Oh my!” She blushes. “Is this really appropriate?”
“This, me darling, is what truth or dare really be about,” Mina replies. “Welp, another scheme foiled. Hmm… okay, I won't go into details for all of your sakes. You know the stereotypes that guys that have trashy, disgusting rooms full of garbage and food containers and don't even have a proper bed are the best in the sack?”
Everyone nods except for Momo.
“Yeah, no, this guy was just straight foul. Be grateful I'm not going further.” Mina shudders at the memory. “That's a demon I’m keeping locked until the day I die. Ochako, truth or dare?”
“Hmm…” Ochako wonders, a finger on her lip. Kyouka rips her eyes away from that, looking at her milky white reflection in the water. Unconsciously she leans forward, waiting for Ochako’s answer, secretly hoping it's truth. Any little factoid she can learn about her crush she’d cherish.
A competitive expression crosses Ochako’s face. “Dare!”
Dare can be good too.
“Okay… I dare you to kiss Momo!”
Dead silence.
“Oh my!” Momo goes scarlet. Ochako goes scarlet too. Kyouka is third to follow.
“W-What!?” Kyouka sputters. It’s not fair! It’s not fair at all!
To Ochako, that is. “You can pass if you want,” Kyouka’s quick to reassure her, hand on her shoulder as her friend gets increasingly tongue tied, eyes glancing down to Momo’s lips. She gulps, and the sound is distressingly audible to Kyouka.
“I-I, um…”
“Oh, c'mon, it’s all good fun! Give miss prissy a kissy! It can just be, like, a peck on the cheek between friends!” Mina tries to reassure her, to little effect. Kyouka’s lobes burn hotter, jacks contorting in infuriated rigid angles as she struggles to figure out how to weasel Ochako out of this.
“She doesn’t have to if she’s uncomfortable. Right, Ochako?” Kyouka tries again. Is Ochako against kissing Momo specifically, or is it girls in general? She subject hasn’t been broached among the two, and… didn’t Ochako like Midoriya? At best she’s bisexual… or it could be a compulsory heterosexuality thing. Kyouka’s mind spins trying to calculate the possibility of Ochako even having a chance of being into her, trying to keep her heart steady, but when Ochako glances at her, eyes full of panic, those thoughts go out the window.
Instinctively her earjacks stretch out and press themselves, one on the base of her neck and one on her temple, repurposing a move she uses for pacifying hypothetical criminals in heroics. Soft thrums and tones, a relaxing soundbath more rejuvenating than the hot spring they’re in could hope to be, reverberate though Ochako’s entire being, and clarity returns to her eyes. Reluctant to let go, Kyouka nonetheless retreats her extra limbs. “You good?”
“Yeah, just… oh, I’m sure they’re okay with me being into girls, it’s just scary to think about showing it. I grew up in the boonies,” Ochako whispers to her.
‘FUCK YES! FUCK YES! FUCK YES! FUCK YES! FUCK YES! FUCK YES! FUCK YES! STREAMERS! PARADES! CONFETTI IN THE AIR! PLANES IN THE SKY! FIREWORKS! EXPLOSIONS! CHOIRS MARCHING DOWN THE STREETS AND SINGING INTO THE AIR!’
“...Cool,” Kyouka plays it smooth. “You, uh, ready for the dare then?”
“Y-Yeah. Nerves got the best of me, haha!” Ochako nervously chuckles, this time louder and intender for the whole crowd. “Sorry, Momo, n-nothing against you, I’m game! Just needed to breathe the stress out, I guess!”
Drat. But at least she’s okay. And for all the dread in her stomach, it’s oddly anticlimactic that Ochako sidles up to the tall, regal, effortlessly gorgeous heiress with her hair down and gives her a chaste peck on the cheek, and both giggle, and that’s that. Her heartbeat didn’t even speed up much. With a slosh, Ochako’s back at Kyouka’s side. “I guess it’s my turn,” she chuckles, laughing off the remaining awkward energy. “Um… Kyouka, truth of dare?”
“Dare. Fuck it.” To be honest, she’s curious what Ochako’ll come up with.
Perhaps Ochako is too, because she draws a blank. Kyouka only has eyes for the brunette, and so even with her impeccable hearing she misses Toru and Mina whispering together devilishly. Such is a person’s attention that it can’t be directed everywhere at once, and Ochako’s the most interesting thing in the vicinity.
“What if we come up with a dare for you?” Toru floats. Ochako considers it, before reluctantly acceding with a nod.
“Sure what’ve you got?”
Toru’s attention snaps to Kyouka. “Kyouka! With the power vested in me by Ochako… kiss Ochako.”
‘Huh?’
The world screeches to a halt. No way. No way. Kyouka’s amped up to eleven at a millisecond’s notice, feeling hot and bothered at the notion of Ochako, soft yet muscular, firm yet kind, pretty gorgeous Ochako kissing her. At the same time, a frigid desolation creeps at the corners of her mind because what if Ochako rejects her this time? She certainly looks that way, blushing up a storm and averting her eyes and getting tongue-tied with anxiety again.
“A-Ah, oh gosh, w-with you?” Ochako sweats. “U-Um, if you want you can back out, K-Kyo…” She’s a veritable shy schoolgirl. It’s definitely only for calming her worries that Kyouka puts on the mask of disaffection, cocking one arm on her hip and giving Ochako a carefully-curated neutral yet inviting look. Ochako blushes more.
“Hey, c’mon, no pressure. Lay it on me. I don’t bite,” she invites. Internally, it;s like a piano falling down the stairs, but nobody else will ever know that.
“O-Okay!” Ochako squeaks, shuffling through the water close enough that Kyouka can hear the blood rushing through her skin and warming her face, the little breaths with each expand and compress of her lungs.
And then Ochako leans in, and her composure is a piece of chewing gum holding a skyscraper together. “H-Here I go…” Ochako intones. Her soft lips purse, and she leans forward gingerly, face approaching Kyouka’s until each feels the other’s heat. The anticipation kills her.
‘OhmygodOchako’sgonnakissmeohmygodwhatdoIdowhatdo-!’
S-meck!
It’s light and cool against her superheated skin and pillowy smooth, and leaves a faint dampness behind that tingles against her skin, like there’s warmth and love and care radiating out from it. Ochako hides her face behind her hands instantly, making nervous noises that Kyouka’s too bluescreened to fully pase, standing as rigid as a board as one jack crawls up her cheek to caress where her lips had touched. Everything Ochako does is Ochako to its core, and it burns every neuron in Kyouka’s mind to a crisp.
“I-It’s not like it means- it’s just a dare, between friends!” Ochako bites out.
Oh. Okay. Yeah. Kyouka was prepared for that, so it’s really only a small mark on her otherwise glowing red heart. At least she got a kiss, and she’s already replayed it ad infinitum in her mind, hoping if she rerolls the memory she can preserve it forever because it’s never gonna happen again. It was a dare, same as Momo. Wishful thinking can only carry her so far.
“Mm. Yeah,” Kyouka affirms, sinking imperceptibly lower into the steamy warm water, torn between jumping for joy and sinking to the depths of the earth. “Doesn’t mean anything.”
Her first kiss from Ochako. That’s when things got dangerous. When the yearning got really bad. Every single night for a month following, after the training camp attack, she returns to that kiss in the hot springs and traces her cheek with her jacks, the contours of Ochako’s lips on her skin unforgettable, and she overthinks. Maybe Ochako does like her. Maybe sdhe was just nervous, and didn’t want to confess it then and there. Maybe she’s not into her now, but she needs more time.
But maybe the same can be said for momo. Just because she’s into girls doesn’t mean she’s into Kyouka. People are people, and there’s no telling what kind of person Ochako’s looking for, if she’s looking at all. Whoever Ochako wants, she could get, no way no how Kyouka’s anywhere near the top of a list deserving of red bannisters. And then, of course, soon after that came the fateful day when her hopes were trampled into the dust. This, too, Kyouka remembers so clearly it could’ve happened only moments ago.
It was a few days after that Yakuza raid that Midoriya, Kirishima, Tsuyu, and Ochako went on. A hero had died, and Ochako skipped class to attend their funeral.
Ochako had come back distinctly morose, but if you looked at her face you’d never know it. She’d mastered the art of the fake smile, enough to fool even Midoriya and Tsuyu that she was just a little fatigued from a day’s worth of heroics exercises. But the heart tells no lies, and Ochako’s heartbeat sounded almost… pained. When she told everyone she was fine, she lied through her teeth, and was so so anxious they didn’t find out. Kyouka’s earjacks were privy to secret things like that, and she decided to do something about it, like Ochako had done for her after that day with the locker room, and innumerable times since.
“Yo, Ochako,” she drawls, walking up to the girl in the middle of the common area, clad in a pair of sweatpants and a crop tank top she’s only recently been confident enough to wear - Ochako had, of course, hyped her up when she demoed it in her room for her, a fact that only cemented how much Ochako deserved some helping back. “C’mon, let’s spar.”
“W-What?” Ochako nervously laughed. Kyouka, unamused, raised an eyebrow, and Ochako sucked in a high-pitched breath through her teeth.
“Well, alright…” she falsely smiles, putting on a phony lackadaisical cadence and following behind. That’s fine. They just need to get somewhere it’s just the two of them. The gym’ll help with distraction. And stress relief.
It’s a short walk, and a touch of brisk night air helps het Kyouka’s head in the game. For now, Ochako comes first, so she does her best to forget the bed and the mall and the springs and be the best friend she can be - the kind Ochako deserves, even if she has to be a little tough with her. Ochako broke down her door for Kyouka’s feelings, so turnabout’s fair play.
Eventually, they both finish their routine warmup stretches, and Ochako awaits Kyouka’s directive, unaware of her actual plan,
“So what’s wrong?" Kyouka broaches the topic.
“What?”
“What’s wrong?” she repeats. “I can tell you’re brooding, dude. It’s not healthy. Didn’t you tell me it’s okay to not be okay? Why are you wearing that fake smile?”
Ochako’s lips quiver. “It’s not fake,” she spurts, a little too quickly.
Kyouka scoffs. “Bull. Shit.”
“Whatever. Weren’t we gonna spar? Let’s spar.”
“Because I don’t think you’re okay and I know you’re not talking to anyone about this.”
“W-Why are you getting on my case about this, Kyo? I thought you were my friend,” Ochako attempts, and Kyouka whirls onto her indignantly, eyes blazing furiously.
“Oh, don’t even try to pull that shit, Ochako. I’m busting your ass about this because I care. And for the record, I know you didn’t mean that.”
“I-I-I’m sorry.” Ochako’s head dips to the ground in shame. Unfortunately, that also really conveniently means she doesn’t have to meet Kyouka’s gaze.
“Eyes up here,” Kyouka snaps her fingers in irritation. ‘God, why am I the one doing this? I’m the fucking worst at emotional shit. Why am I the only one who can tell when she’s upset?’
Ochako obeys, and looks back up at Kyouka, that putrid fake smile still affixed to her mouth.
“You’re not gonna tell me, are you?”
“There’s nothing to tell. I’m a bit tired, but I’m fine. I promise.” Ochako’s voice rings hollow, shaking on the emphasis, and there’s that bad-dum-skip in her heart, an anxious little hop when she’s telling a lie. Kyouka knows her too well to mistake it for anything else.
She sighs. Plan B it is. “Okay, then I guess we’re actually doing this. We’re sparring. No quirks. I win, you spill the beans, but I won’t bring it up again if you win.”
Ochako hesitates. “F-Fine! I can beat you anyday!”
“Good. Go.” Kyouka throws herself at Ochako, keeping her earjacks wrapped around her head to avoid accidentally cheating. With her small build, she has to get in close. Ochako, a natural grappler with her quirk, falters, and the opening is big enough for Kyouka to score the first blow against her side. “Stop lying to me, Ochako, it’s pissing me off!”
“I’m not… LYING!” she screams, flinging an arm around. Kyouka ducks beneath it, letting herself drop to her knees, and she delivers another quick jab to Ochako’s exposed stomach before lunging for her legs, pulling one up. Ordinarily, this would be a fool’s errand, but her opponent is noticeably unbalanced today so when Kyouka pulls, Ochako’s foot gives from the mat. She falls on her back in a heap, the wind blown violently out of her lungs.
“Yes you are! You’re sloppy!” Kyouka spits out, dropping to the floor and grabbing Ochako’s arms before she can defend herself, wrapping one around her back and pulling at the socket. “Aren’t you the best wrestler? The best hand-to-hand fighter? The best brawler? Huh?”
“No I’m not, that’s Kirishima, and Ojiro, and Sato!” Ochako spits back. “I’m… average at best!”
She throws Kyouka back, and the lithe girl staggers, wiping a bead of sweat off her brow as Ochako throws herself back up to her feet. Endorphins flow to her head, and she feels a bit woozy. “Yeah? Well… you’re not fucking average to me. You can walk the dog with all of them in a row on a good day and you know it. So why can’t you fucking beat me?”
“You’ve gotten better! You’re used to me! We train together, you’re familiar with my moves!”
Oh, Kyouka’s familiar with her, all right. Familiar with the sensation of being pressed cheek-first to the mat in a submission hold by Ochako that’s as painful as it is mortifyingly attractive. “That’s a crock of shit and we both know it!”
Ochako, seething and huffing like an angry bear, explodes forward. But she's uncoordinated, and second-guessing everything she does. Her heart’s hammering more than a tussle like this should mean for her. And so Kyouka, in one swift move, exploits her weak gambit by swiping a leg across to knock her feet out from underneath her. Before Ochako can even comprehend what’s happened her cheek is on the mat and Kyouka is above her, locking her hands behind her back.
She leans down, lips to Ochako’s ear, so close the other girl can feel the warmth of her breath and the hairs of her purple bangs. “Game set and match. Now tell me, Ochako.”
“Who cares. Look, you won for once! Good job! We can go again, right?” It’s an amateurish deflection that, were it coming the other way around, Ochako would deflect in a heartbeat.
“Hey, Ochako, when the fuck have I ever beaten you in a spar? That’s just more proof something’s up!”
For a moment, Ochako looks shocked as her attempts are refuted, before rage clouds her eyes and fills her mouth with a snarl. “Yeah? Yeah? No fuckin’ shit! Ah’m- ah mean… I mean…” it leaves as quickly as it comes, replaced with budding tears, and she slumps down onto the mat with a soft thump. “No duh I’m not doing good. If I was good enough I wouldn’t have been beat, I-I know that. If I was good enough, maybe… maybe Sir Nighteye would still be alive.”
“Oh, Ochako…” Kyouka gasps. “You’re still-? Everyone was there, dude. You had The third years, and so many other heroes, and Kirishima, and Midoriya… it wasn’t your fault."
“But everyone did their jobs correctly!” Ochako cries. “Deku was told to beat Overhaul, and he did! Tsu was told to keep Mirio safe, and she did! Kirishima held out long enough to beat the other guys but I was the weakest link! They told me to keep Sir Nighteye safe and- and what did I do? I- I got distracted, I couldn't do anything, I fucked it all up…”
“Ochako, look at me.” She doesn’t. Frustration bubbles within Kyouka. “I said look at me!”
Numbly, Ochako’s head tilts to Kyouka’s, and it’s clear as day she’s fighting to stay composed. In a bout of sheer insanity she even tries to fix that fake-ass smile onto her face again. For a second, Kyouka’s tempted to slap some sense into her, but this situation is more delicate than that.
Forgetting her bony figure, her lack of soft curves and all the other nice shit Ochako has, Kyouka gingerly pulls her forward until her head’s sitting on her lap. “Ochako… it wasn’t your fault. Nobody expected him to survive that. I saw some of the pictures, it was… a whole stone spike through the chest.” Ochako winces. “That’s not the kind of wound you recover from. And I know you don’t want to accept this, but it’s okay to fail when you’re still a first-year and they give you the hardest job in the entire raid.”
“Deku’s-”
“You think beating a really strong guy like Overhaul’s harder than keeping a guy alive when he’s missing most of his spine and organs?” Kyouka snarks. “You don’t need to put up a front. Everyone else from the raid probably feels real shitty too. I bet, uh… Togata’s up at night about it. You can talk to them, okay? I don’t want to see you cry.”
One of her fingers trails down to, soft as a whisper, dry the tears in Ochako’s eyes. Her earjacks worm their way down onto her chest, right above her thundering heart, and pulse with strobing, hypnotic beats that force it back to calm. “Better?”
“A-A little,” Ochako admits.
“Cool,” Kyouka smiles down at her. The brunette’s hair is strewn messily around in her lap, and despite knowing her legs can’t be nearly as good a cushion as Ochako’s own, the girl in question looks like she’s lying on a piece of heaven. Her face is still red from the tears, and she finally lets her forced neutral subside, being replaced with a fragile frown.
“I… I’ve been working on that song lately,” Kyouka idly comments, stroking a hand through Ochako’s hair. “It's about… stuff. People. I’m not really sure, I just want it to be important to me, even if it comes off as dumb. I don’t even have any lyrics yet, but I've got most of a tune. Wanna... have a listen?
“Mm-hmm” Ochako nods in her lap.
Kyouka can’t help the light blush that graces her cheeks as she gives Ochako a hopelessly soft look, hoping her pining isn’t as evident on her face as it it so herself. “Neat. It goes a little something like this.”
She starts to hum, and when she reaches close to the end Ochako must sense it because a little disappointment flashes in those endless brown pools that are her sad but peaceful gaze. So Kyouka improvises, pulling on all her knowledge of jazz and scat and melody to keep the hum going, adding original little riffs she never even thought of for the song as it stops, starts, speeds, slows, and syncopates. She sings to Ochako on that gym mat for ten, twenty, thirty minutes, and ever-so-gradually that sad frown is replaced with a sad smile.
Could Ochako possibly know this song is for her? Even when Ochako’s looking up at her with wonderment in her eyes, she feels like a bird singing to the stars.
And so Kyouka’s heart warmed with gratitude that she’d been able to help Ochako. It was a heavy topic for the gravity girl to confront, and the small, selfish, opportunistic part of Kyouka that she tries to suppress can’t help but chalk the day up as a success. One step closer to Ochako. It’s a horrible thing to think after helping a friend through a tough time, but that’s just how her intrusive thoughts go.
That night, she dresses in her pajamas and readies herself for a night’s slumber, totally wiped out. Kyouka has a nightly routine: casuals come off, pajamas come on (the pants Mom and Dad bought with the electric guitars and lightning bolts she’ll never admit to wearing but also won’t get rid of paired with a basic bra), take a shower if she hasn’t, last-minute check for homework, and teeth brushed and hormones taken. Headphones get plugged into the electric guitar and come on, thirty minute jam sesh to keep from getting rusty, and then it’s off to bed.
It would be laughable to think Kyouka only has Ochako on the mind. She’s a multifaceted person, dammit! At this time of night, her mind flits from the latest conversation she had with Ochako at lunch to the funny joke Denki made during heroics to wondering if she got that maths question right to the latest drama from Mina to-
Nestling into her pillow, one of her earjacks errantly brushes the wall.
“Bup-bum-bum-ba-dup ba~!”
Kyouka freezes. She knows the sound of that voice. That’s Ochako’s humming.
Nagging curiosity prompts her to press her earjack closer, searching for more clear sound. Why is the sound so clear, anyway? Her room was especially soundproofed specifically to prevent this. Only when she really concentrates can she hear what’s going on outside it.
Well, she’s really concentrating now. It’s totally harmless, anyway. Ochako’s just going about her nightly routine. And Kyouka’s not going to make this a habit, because that’s a gross violation of privacy, and even if she’s self-professedly absolutely smitten with the girl (a fact she’ll never actually profess to anyone) she’s not gonna sit and listen to her do the mundane stuff she goes about doing every single night.
She hears a soft slam, wood on wood. Summoning her mental image of Ochako’s room from the few times she’s been in there, that’s almost definitely her clothes drawer. Ochako shuffles around, humming to her a bit more, all little variations of her usual hum, but it changes. Morphs. It’s clunky and amateurish, but Kyouka’s enraptured. And before she knows it, it begins to chest-flutteringly sound familiar. It’s Kyouka’s song.
‘Ochako’s humming my shitty half-baked unfinished love song to her!’ She can’t decide if it’s the best or worst thing in her life.
Ochako’s feet pad across the ground and with a Fwump she bellyflops onto her bed, giggling softly to herself. Kyouka’s heart skips a beat at her laughter, at her simple joy, and she wishes she was up there to see it. She’ll settle for hearing it. There’s a special sort of intimacy to this, Ochako’s full, unguarded self she only bears to those four walls. Kyouka nestles deeper into her bed and closes her eyes, the sounds upstairs a wonderful white noise to lull her to dreamland, where she’s sure she’ll dream of Ochako.
Ping! Rudely, Ochako’s phone goes off, and she shuffles around on her mattress. “What’n- oh, this is real rich, missy,” she grumbles. “Yah ain’t gonna pull the wool over mah eyes again…”
What’s she talking about? More importantly, where’d that Kansai twang come from? A knot of discomfort forms in her gut, one Kyouka stubbornly tries to avoid. Ochako and her are good friends, and now that she reexamines those memories, there’s been a few times she’s let a hint of an accent slip. Kyouka had written that off as a light countryism left in her voice, but in the sanctity of her own room she… let the rest of it out. Was she hiding it?
‘Am I a bad friend?’
Kyouka shoves that thought deep, deep down. No point in ruminating on it. It’s like dungeons and dragons, she shouldn’t be forming her opinion on people based on shit she overhears that she wasn’t actually supposed to know. ‘Well, I’ve never played DnD but I’m pretty sure that’s how it works,’ she muses. Thoughts for the morning.
Ochako shifts around in her bed. Little sounds and cut off voices key the listener below in that she’s on her phone. It’s not healthy, but Kyouka’s not going to bust her ass over it - she’d be lying if she pretended she didn’t also do the same sometimes. Kyouka slows her own breaths, clears her own mind, and lets herself fall into Ochako’s orbit. And she’s out like a light.
…
…..
……..
But Kyouka’s left one thing out of her introduction from long, long ago, and that’s that she’s a rather light sleeper. It happens when you have a quirk based on super-sensitive hearing.
Creeaaakkkk-clik.
Thu-Thump!
Shoes on wood floorboards. Two heartbeats, both racing. Kyouka’s eyes snap open.
There’s a long, protracted period of naked silence where she realizes she’s awake again, glancing at her digital clock. 12:13 AM it reads, and Kyouka presses her earjack against the wall. Yup, the sound’s coming from Ochako’s room, directly above her. Why are there two heartbeats, two people?
“Toga.” It’s Ochako’s voice, colder than Kyouka’s ever heard it.
A grumble. The voice that follows her up is cloyingly sweet with a sharp edge beneath it. “‘Thought you agreed to call me Himiko, Ochako.”
‘What the actual fuck!?’
That’s the first thought that crosses her mind, and it’s tainted with shock, horror, and rage. Because Toga Himiko, member of the League of Villains, a blood-crazed psychopath killer, had also introduced herself.
She’d introduced herself through Ochako’s eyebags, red from crying and dull from exhaustion, the first sight Kyouka saw when she woke up with a raw through from being gassed at the training camp. Ochako shot out of her plastic chair like she’d used her quirk, latching onto Kyouka and bawling into her side incoherently about everything that’d happened.
“I-I-I was so worried about ya, even if Recovery Girl said you were fine!’” Ochako had cried, fopling nobody but herself. Kyouka was flattered by the unexpected worry over her, but the cuts and bruises and patent shaken aura on her friend can’t have been borne from worry alone. And so Kyouka had summoned her composure, grabbed Ochako’s shoulders, and asked what was wrong then and there.
And Ochako broke down again, crumbling into her arms as Kyouka stroked her hair softly, and she’s introduced Toga to her through the still-healing cuts on her arms and the syringe mark on her thigh, through harrowed accounts of the mad vampire’s lust for blood and deranged tirade comparing herself to Ochako as if the two could be in any way similar, through how close she might have come to killing her dearest friends. All this and more spills from Ochako’s mouth through sobs, seeking comfort in her friend because for whatever reason she hasn't told Iida or Momo or Mina or Toru or anyone else in the entire class about this, coming to Kyouka first.
Sharp teeth and feline eyes and messy blonde twin buns, yes, that’s all who Toga Himiko is, but as for what she is? Evil. A monster, through and through. A danger to every classmate, with a particular obsession for Ochako.
And now Toga Himiko is in Ochako’s room. The only thing that stops Kyouka from booking it out of her door and screaming until her throat’s bloody for Aizawa or Nedzu or anyone else is the even more shocking realization that Ochako’s treating this like it’s normal. She’s tense, sure, but nothing in her voice suggests surprise. Kyouka presses both jacks and even her actual ear against the wall, hair standing on end, clammy and stir-crazy and scared beyond comprehension for her friend.
“Well… that was then and this is now,” Ochako huffs. “Whatever you’re here to say, I’m not hearing it.”
“Not hearing-!” Toga starts, and clearly she’s frustrated. Kyoukla trembles in her bed. A serial killer is angry at Ochako. She itches to leap out of bed, but then she hears Toga exhale slowly, carefully, four seconds out and four more seconds in. “Okay,” she breathes. “Okay. Sure. That’s it, then?”
“Yes,” Ochako asserts. Her bed shifts.”I-”
“What happened to your country accent? It’s cute.”
‘Toga knew about it?’ Kyouka thinks. ‘...Before me?’ Her mind’s spinning. The world’s gone mad. Toga the villain sneaking into the UA dorms, Ochako talking with her like it’s just some- some regular, normal thing!
“Why are you hiding it from me?” Toga continues. “Scared of scary ol’ Toga the cannibal killer, is that it? Am I not worth your precious fucking time anymore, Ochako?”
“What!?” Ochako sounds exasperated, and slaps her hand onto her chest. “First off, you’re getting off track, and second off, where’s this cannibal thing come from?”
“Just the latest little nickname the news came up with,” Toga scoffs. Her shoes click against the floorboards as she kicks her feet. “How long before you start using it too? A month? Two months?”
“Oh, shut up for a second.” There’s a huff from Ochako, a hushed whisper in her voice. “And stop yelling, you’ll give us away.”
There’s a frustrated pout evident in Toga’s voice. “Thought there was no ‘us’.”
“Dammit, Toga, do you really think I don’t want there to be an us!? Do you? Are you really trying ta- trying to get mad and run off and make excuses!?” Ochako’s hand thumps against her pillow, and her bed squeaks.
““Hey, at least give me a chance! Wasn’t this what we started with, you- you giving me a chance!?” Toga bites back. “Of course I want to! But if you care so fucking much then why am I Toga and not Himiko, huh!? You made me a promise that I’d be Himiko to you! Not Toga the d-deranged freak or Toga the bloodsucking monster or Toga the psychopath yandere vampire slut, you- you promised! Where’s that promise now, Uravity!?” Her voice shakes on those words. If it was anyone else, Kyouka might feel bad, but it’s Toga. She wonders how quickly she can reach the door if things go south.
“I… I did break that promise,” Ochako admits. Kyouka’s beyond shocked. Ochako made a promise to Toga Himiko. About what, exactly? Calling her by her name? She doesn’t get it, no matter how desperately she tries to past the situation. There’s context here, and Kyouka knows she’s missed it. How many meetings just like this one have happened by now?
“...and I’m sorry,” Ochako keeps apologizing. “I… I forgot, in the heat of the moment. I shouldn't have said that. But you’re not off the hook either. After what you admitted… I can tolerate everything else, but working with Overhaul? Trying to steal Eri, a child, for the League? I can’t overlook that. Not Eri. You would’ve ruined her life.”
Toga’s silent. Ochako sighs. Kyouka recalls that little child she occasionally sees with Midoriya and Togata. Just another despicable tally on Toga’s list of villainous deeds.
“....I-I know, but...Shiggy told me to.”
“You can’t just do everything Shigaraki tells you to,” Ochako admonishes her, voice equal parts consternation and resignation. It sounds like the chorus to a song Kyouka’s missed the opener for, those words well-worn into the proverbial driveway. Amazingly, Ochako’s heartrate is slowing down from angered jackhammer to a slow, dull, discontented thumping.
“Ochako…” Toga sighs. It’s a sad noise, and her throat cracks making it. “You don’t understand. When I was a kid-”
“When you were a- you told me about when you were a kid but you almost ruined the life of a kid just as young as you!”
“LET ME FUCKING FINISH!” Toga roars. Kyouka freezes. Ochako’s heart skips a beat too. Panic? Fear? Only Toga can see the answers in Ochako’s eyes., but evidently she relents, and instead of breaking down the door and running for the teachers she lets Toga keep speaking for some unfathomable reason “When I- When I was a kid… I didn’t tell you about how bad it was. Not totally, Ochako. I left out the worst bits. The worst part wasn’t… any of that, it was the loneliness. There was nobody else who drank blood. Nobody else who even knew I love blood and thought it was okay. And then I meet Shiggy…”
Kyouka imagines Toga has reverent stars in her eyes now. It’s easy to imagine the crazed glee of an acolyte on Toga’s face, but the image just doesn’t fit how she’s speaking. Perhaps she looks more like Ochako in her lap, sad and frowning but eyes still smiling bright, a traitorous part of her mind decides.
“...and Shiggy, oh, he says it like it is! Even all the other criminals out on the streets hated me. They thought I was stupid. Gross. Tried to kill me. Tried to drug me. All of them lie through their teeth and they’re all fucking miserable, Ochako, but I was miserable too, and misery loves company. And then I meet Shiggy, and he’s not miserable. He’s something else. I stuck around to see what that something else was.”
“What was it?” Ochako asks. There’s real curiosity in her voice.
“Hope. He has a dream. Destroying everything in the world we don’t like, everything bad that makes us suffer. Isn’t that worth a few sacrifices? A few deaths? A few…” she exhales through her nose, and her voice falters, starting and stopping a few times before she finds her train of thought again. “Do you think I would’ve told you about trying to steal Eri if I thought it was the right thing to do?”
“I… you mean you told me knowing it was bad?” Ochako sounds just as confused as Kyouka is.
“It felt super wrong keeping it secret,” Toga admits. “I hate secrets. I hate masks. I just wanna be me with you.”
“Himiko…” Ochako’s voice is softer. Delicate, even. It sounds like when Ochako comforts Kyouka after a failed test or a bad day, an arm on the shoulder and an empathetic smile. “If you knew it was wrong, then… why?”
“I-I dunno! Jin was there, and Compress - well, his clone - was there, and it was part of the revenge plan to screw the Yakuza guys over after they killed Big Sis and I just- and it’s not an excuse, Ochako, please, I-I know it was wrong but at the time-! I-!”
“I’m not mad, Himiko, breathe,” Ochako instructs. “With me. In… and out. Hold it. In… and out.” After a moment, Toga follows along, the two of them breathing in sync, and Kyouka joins in, soothing her own nerves about the whole insane situation. Maybe Ochako’s with the League, or she’s in over her head, or she’s just batshit crazy, but it doesn’t feel like the situation’s going to escalate anymore. Kyouka lets her tense muscles loosen and keeps listening for more.
“Himiko, when I met you during the raid, and there was no time, and you told me… what you told me, I agreed to give you a second chance. And I did. And everything since then has been… a whirlwind.” Ochako’s cadence is measured, soothing. It’s got that gentle kindness Kyouka’s fallen in love with. “I’ll never regret giving you that second chance, okay? Not when you’ve shown me… so much of you. So much hurt and so much beauty. Even if you screw up, or backslide, I don’t know if I’d be able to help giving you another chance. But please… can’t you do it for me? I really want this to work. I know you can be true to yourself in a better way.”
“You’re such a dork, Ochako…” Toga sniffles. “You’re so good with the speeches. Y-You’re right. And I’m sorry. It’s so easy to just… do what they tell me again, but… I want to be better. For you.”
“Don’t be silly. Do it for you, not for me,” Ochako huffs. “C’mere, I want a hug.”
It’s the umpteenth shock to the system for the night. Ochako invites the criminal in for a hug, and she obliges, shoes clacking against the floorboards as she seems to finally leave her perch on the windowsill and traverse the space to Ochako’s bed, and with a creak and groan the two of them are joined together. Kyouka drags her hand over her face in sheer disbelief, noticing accumulated sweat from the stress of earlier.
‘Is she trying to rehabilitate Toga? That seems the most reasonable, but sneaking her into UA? Wait, was that text earlier Toga too? They’re in contact? Ochako’s not talking like she’s working with the League or anything, but she and Toga are familiar. Too familiar.’ A mote of unease bubbles up, and Kyouka tries to dispel it, but it grows ever-larger.
Both girls hum as they clutch each other. There’s only so much Kyouka can hear - how tightly are they clutching each other? Where are their arms? What expressions are on their faces? Their heartbeats slow until they’re in sync.
“This is nice,” Toga sighs happily. “I want more of this.”
“Me too,” Ochako agrees. “...Are you thirsty?”
“...A little,” Toga admits.
Aghast, Kyouka listens. ‘Ochako, what the hell, that’s your blood!’ If she could project her voice into Ochako’s head she’d be howling to the mountaintops in alarm, but all she can do is helplessly listen. ‘She- Toga needs blood to use her quirk, Ochako’s giving her a disguise, we learned this in class, you know this, how can you trust her? She’s a good actor, she could’ve been lying, she could’ve-’
But she isn’t. Unless Toga is so good a liar she can even fool herself, the heartbeat doesn’t lie. It purrs like a contented cat, it thumped when she was agitated before, but she never heard a hint of a lie, It’s possible the emotions were too close together for her to detect one, it’s probable she just missed something, but as far as Kyouka can tell, Toga’s been completely honest the whole time.
There’s a stretch of fabric.
“F-From your neck? Ochako, this is too much, I-I feel bad just taking from you-”
“All I want in return is ta see you smile,” Ochako reassures her, a broad smile audible. “I… I’m still a little mad with yah, but I’m glad yah trusted me. And ah’m glad you admitted you were wrong. I think we can move up from my wrist, don’tcha?”
Toga sniffles again. Compared to how tenderly they were talking, that’s a thundercrack, and it’s even so loud Ochako actually laughs at it. “Yer so funny, Himi… there’s that smile.”
In a bout of morbid curiosity, Kyouka really wants to see it too. What’s she missing? Is it surprisingly normal, or just like the footage they have? Open or closed mouth? How wide are her lips stretching? All she can conjure up is that grotesque facsimile of a person’s face she knows in her mind’s eye, like someone carved a knife from cheek to cheek like a jack-o-lantern. What does Ochako see in a person like that that she doesn’t?
There’s a sudden thump on the mattress, and an indiscernible wet sound. “Stop, Himi, that’s mah nose!” Ochako lets out a delighted giggle, one which Toga returns. It’s surprisingly sweet sounding, but Kyouka’s more focused on trying to visualize what the hell they’re doing.
“You’re funny too, Chako~”
There’s a creak of the bed, like Himiko’s leaning down again.
~M-wah!~
Kyouka zones out. Her focus slips from the room. All of a sudden, she feels detached from her own body, completely numb. The crushing, miserable, terrible realizing creeps up through her legs until it’s pushing painfully out from her ribs and burns at her eyes. Because no, Ochako’s not just consorting with Toga, she’s not just rehabilitating Toga, she’s not just friends with Toga. Every strange choice of words she’s overlooked until now, every last puzzle piece clicks into place and the picture tears a piece of Kyouka’s heart out with it.
‘No. No. NoNoNoNoNo.’
Ochako loves Toga. Toga loves Ochako. Kyouka bites her pillow, screaming into it, trying to force herself to be mad, but the abject black hole of misery pills her down. The sobs start slow, and like a dam breaking she coughs and snorts and hiccups into her duvet, drying tears as they come and screaming herself raw knowing nobody can hear her. Every time she thinks she’s finished more tears come, guttural shrieks that tear at her throat.
Raising a fist, she slams it down on her mattress, wanting to break something. She hits it again, and again, and again, each punch harder than the last, but the emotions she’s being devoured by can’t be vented, because they’re so much bigger than that. She feels like she wants to puke, but merely punching the mattress has killed her energy, and she doesn’t even have the willpower to stand.
Pulling her duvet back over herself, she resigns herself to fitful, dreamless sleep. Her earjacks bury themselves in her squishy bed, seeking silence.
The next morning hits like a hangover. Reluctantly, Kyouka peels herself out of bed, her arm throbbing painfully. Her throat’s on fire. She doesn’t really feel like bothering to get water. Drying the crust out of her eyes, she goes about her morning routine - pajamas come off, uniform come on, into the bathroom to take care of her makeup and take a piss, HRT goes down her throat along with a painkiller and the toothbrush makes the rounds on her teeth, and she does her routine stretches before opening the door and skulking towards the kitchen to fill a stomach that feels empty yet sick.
It’s just her luck that she runs into Ochako in the stairwell. “Kyo!” the brunette cries, hair almost golden in the morning sun. Kyouka stills like a statue, eyes wide - and slightly bloodshot from all the damn crying. Her heart dies in her chest again. Pretty, kind, strong Ochako will never be hers - this she is sure of. What would normally be the kind of morning interaction that makes her feel like she’s floating instead puts indents in the ground where she walks. There’s an almost imperceptible pallour beneath Ochako’s eyes from having too little sleep.
Kyouka flinches at her voice. “O-Ochako,” she stutters dumbly, for lack of anything better to say. She feels like she’s on the backfoot here, but Ochako merely tilts her head at her in confusion. “How… are you this morning?”
God, even talking sounds painful, and it’s not just how dry her throat is. It still comes out croaky.
“Are you okay? Your voice sounds kinda…” Ochako makes a gesture with her hands.
“S’fine,” Kyouka dismissed, trying not to look or sound as shell-shocked as she still feels. “Dry throat. Need water.”
“Oh! Tell you what, I’ll get you some, okay? I don’t know who’s making breakfast but I can grab you a plate or something if you’re not feeling up to it.” It’s so considerate Kyouka can’t help but crack a weak, heartbroken smile. She can’t really stand to be around Ochako right now, even as she desperately craves to be held in her arms again.
“‘Kay,” she chokes out. Ochako gives her another concerned look before grabbing her hand, the contact just rubbing it in, and walking her to the kitchen. Contrary to her own mood, Ochako seems happy. Ecstatic, even, like she’s walking on air. She hums Kyouka’s song as she moves, her bob cut bouncing with each step.
One bounce too high hammers the final nail into the coffin. There, on the side of her neck between chestnut hair and a collar pulled unusually high for the day, are two little red pricks.
‘Toga drank from there last night’
It’s too much. Kyouka wrenches her hand from Ochako’s and books it down the hall, scrambling for the nearest bathroom and stuffing her head into a toilet, painfully heaving out a thin stream of bile. Her throat clenches on instinct, trying to force out a sickness she doesn’t have - it’s all stress and heartbreak.
‘This is stupid. I’m pathetic. I’m overreacting. It’s just a crush,’ she repeats like a mantra in her head, but no matter how many times it loops it doesn’t soothe her one iota. As the world fades back in from white Ochako’s hand makes itself known, rubbing soft circles into her back, and the stupidest thing is that it’s working. She’s calming down, and she hates it, and she hates herself, and she wishes she could hate Ochako too but she just… can’t.
A lightbulb blinks above her head. ‘I can tell Nedzu, tell Aizawa, tell All Might, help them set a trap. Then they'll get rid of Toga for good! And Ochako will be safe and…!’ the thought slows to a stop. Toga doesn't seem to be an active threat to Ochako, and that's not even the real reason she wants to be rid of her, is it? Like the bitch she is, she just wants to snuff out the competition. Ochako would undoubtedly be shattered by it - she's heard enough to piece that together - and if she ever found out Kyouka was involved it might drive a massive rift between them.
‘I can keep listening. If it ever becomes properly dangerous, I'll have a really good excuse,’ she decides. ‘If Toga threatens Ochako, or I hear something really really bad, Ochako won't blame me for sounding the alarm, right?’ Even that rings hollow but it's all she can cling to.
They stay in that bathroom for some time, Kyouka guiltily enjoying the feel of Ochako's touch and care. Both get their breakfast late - a few tall cups of water and some plain white rice help Kyouka feel a bit less weak but no less shitty, and she settles in for a bad day.