knock knock, bnha fandom? yes hello, i'm here w my rarepair.

Ochako found that sleep didn't come easy to her as it used to.

It started when she moved into Heights Alliance. Sure, for first several weeks she would knock out like a rock, but that didn't last. It was a subtle change, she noticed. She fell asleep at later times, the hours dragging on, and on, and on….

It would be one…then two…then three….

Before she knew it, the sun would be rising over a new day, and Ochako would be in her bed, body heavy with fatigue.

She sought other ways to help her fall asleep. Twenty or so jumping jacks, counting sheep, doing jumping jacks as she counted sheep—none of them worked. Sleep never failed to elude her, and with each passing night, Ochako grew more and more frustrated.

Eventually she decided that if she was going to spend the night wide-awake, she would do it in the common room, where at least she'd have a nice view of the sky to keep her frustrations at bay. Night after night, Ochako sat curled under a thin blanket, looking out the large, arched window, counting the countless stars dotting the night sky, alone.

This particular night, however, she wasn't alone.

She sat curled in the corner of the couch that faced the window, her head leaning against the crevice where the armrest and back cushion met. Her body felt heavy, yet her mind was wide awake as her eyes drifted from one star to another.

Hundred-five…hundred-six…hundred-seven…hundred-eigh—

"Uraraka?"

Her thoughts dissipated like clouds of breath as she turned her head. She saw Momo staring at her with a mix of confusion and surprise.

"Yaoyorozu," she began, "what're you doin' 'ere?"

"I should be asking you the same thing," Momo said, raising an eyebrow.

Ochako felt a sheepish smile curl her lips. "Couldn' sleep."

"Your voice says otherwise."

"Really?" Ochako laughed tiredly. "I guess I do soun' sleepy," she said after a while. She covered her mouth with the blanket as she yawned.

"Are you sure you're not forcing yourself to stay awake?" Ochako caught lilts of worry in Momo's voice.

"'M sure," Ochako said, blinking away the tears that sat in the corners of her eyes. "It's like—mm—you know when your body is tired? But your mind keeps you awake?"

Momo hummed in confirmation.

"Tha's what's happenin' with me."

"…I see."

There was a moment of silence, one that was heavy and awkward. As she shifted in her seat, Ochako realized that this was the first time she was alone with Momo. It also occurred to her that she wasn't as close with her as she was with all the other girls.

Now that she thought about it, Momo was someone who always kept to herself.

"Do you wanna sit?" Ochako smiled and patted the cushion next to her.

Momo's eyes widen and her cheeks color with child-like excitement. "Really?"

"Really."

With constrained excitement, Momo made her way to sit next to Ochako, her eyes sparkling with glee all the while like a pup. The thought made Ochako's smile grow wider.

Ochako felt the cushion beside her sink as Momo sat down. She could feel Momo's warmth through the thin blanket, and as she took a deep breath, she caught the faint richness of coffee whisking past. The sting of homesickness pricked Ochako's chest as she remembered the early mornings of her childhood when she would watch her father leave for work, leaving the smell of coffee in his wake.

"Didja drink some coffee?" Ochako found herself asking.

The weight beside her shifted as Momo hummed. "A little bit."

"Is that why you can' sleep?"

"Oh, no," Momo said as she shook her head. "I can't sleep because I stay up out of habit—I used to study through the nights when I was younger. Besides, it was non-caffeinated coffee."

"Non-caffeinated?"

"I drink it because I like the taste."

Ochako laughed. "That really is a Yaoyorozu-like answer."

Momo turned to her with furrowed eyebrows. "Is…that a bad thing?"

"No," Ochako said with a small smile, "it's not. 'M jus' sayin' you have adult taste, since you like coffee. Since it's real bitter an' all."

Momo hummed, nodding slightly. "Do you not like coffee?"

"If it has marshmallows in it, I don't mind it."

There was a slight pause before Momo asked, "Marshmallows?"

"It's somethin' that my pops and I used to do," Ochako explained. She chuckled quietly to ignore the cold feeling of homesickness spreading throughout her chest. "Sometimes I would wake up early and drink coffee with him. We didn' really have things like hot chocolate because that was a sorta luxury for us, so he'd put marshmallows inta my mug to make it sweeter."

Momo smiled, and for a moment, Ochako felt like she was sitting under the sun, its warmth melting the chill settling in her chest.

"You sound close to him," Momo said.

"Yeah…." Ochako's words faded with her smile, her eyes trailing off to gaze at an invisible spot on the floor. A chill passed through her spine as she mumbled, "I really miss him sometimes."

Momo wrapped her arm around Ochako's shoulders and pulled her close. The scent of coffee was undeniably stronger, and undeniably comforting. A familiar feeling she couldn't quite name washed over Ochako. It warmed her the same way warm beach sand did, tingling sensations traveling from the soles of her feet to the top of her head.

"You sound close," Momo said, barely above a whisper. Ochako found that the gentle rumble of Momo's voice soothed her. "It's understandable why you'd miss home."

"Yeah, guess we are." Ochako allowed a breath of amusement to leave her. "We're a small family that don' really have much. All we really had was each other. But they did everythin' they could to support me."

Momo said nothing this time. Instead, she began to rub Ochako's shoulder in small circles. Ochako found solace in the gesture; her mother would do the same thing when she was younger.

"They sound like good people," Momo said.

Ochako's lips quirked up into a smile. "They are. I wanna pay them back. For everythin' they've done."

"Is that why you became a Hero?"

"Yeah."

"That's a very Uraraka-like reason."

Ochako chuckled; didn't need to look up to know that Momo was smiling.

"How about you?" Ochako asked. "Why'd you become a Hero?"

Ochako noticed that Momo's hand paused for a brief second before she answered. "Partially because it was expected of me," she began, "partially because I wanted to."

"Oh, right—I forget that you come from a well-known Hero family."

Momo chuckled, but Ochako didn't catch any note of amusement. If anything, it sounded quite the opposite: unsure, reserved, even a bit cynical—like she was laughing to distract herself from something.

Another shiver spread through Ochako's, body, this time settling in her gut like water.

"I'm surprised people can forget a big title like that," Momo said. The cynicism was leaking into her voice as she continued. "I wish I could, sometimes."

Hearing her words made the cold water in Ochako's stomach turn to ice. The frost crept up her body, freezing her lungs, making it hard to breathe all of a sudden.

Sympathy and shame churned in her gut as she finally forced herself to take a breath. "Sorry," she mumbled. "Prolly shouldn' 'ave mentioned it."

"No," Momo began with a shake of her head, "I'm the one who should be sorry—I lost control of myself for a moment there."

Ochako forced herself to stay quiet by chewing on the inside of her cheek. A question nagged at her, however, in the back of her mind. It prodded and poked the way Kirishima sometimes did in class, annoying her and demanding to be asked.

Ochako stopped her ministration, instead taking a breath to steel herself.

"Yaoyorozu?"

Momo answered with a faint hum.

"Can—can I ask you somethin'?" She paused before quickly adding, "Ah, you don't have to answer if you don't want to, though."

Ochako felt Momo nod faintly. "What is it?"

"Are you, mm, on—on good terms with your family?"

Momo chuckled gently, a far cry from the cynicism she showed earlier. This one was much gentle and warm. "Of course I am."

Ochako quietly sighed out of relief. "Tha's good."

"Why do you ask?"

"I just thought that, mm, you weren't on good terms with 'em, y'know? Like you might've been in a similar situation. Like Todoroki."

"Ah. Well, I can assure you it's nothing like that. But"—Ochako felt Momo let out a heavy exhale through her nose, and she scooted closer to the vice-president, hoping it would give her some form of comfort—"sometimes the name gets too heavy." There was a moment before Momo added, "Like the pressure of being a Yaoyorozu. Not—not the actual name."

Ochako stifled a laugh, covering her mouth with her blanket. Momo was a lot like Todoroki, Ochako noticed, with how awkward they were. Maybe that's why they got along, because they understood what it was like to be an outlier.

The image of Momo sitting alone was upsetting Ochako much more than it should have.

"Y'know we got your back," Ochako began, her voice holding such conviction she even surprised herself, "not because of your name, but because you're you, y'know? Titles and stuff don' matter to us; it just matters if you got the 'eart of a Hero."

An awkward, heavy silence weighed over them. Sweat began to collect on the back of Ochako's neck. Did—did she say something wrong? Momo wasn't saying anything, but that doesn't mean it was necessarily a bad thing, was it? Because—

Momo blew off the silence with a laugh as if it was nothing. There was something living in her voice as she laughed, something so rich and so genuine that it made Ochako's heart soar in her chest.

"It's kind of comforting to hear something like that," Momo said with a quiet sniffle. "Thank you."

The warmth in Momo's voice comforted Ochako. It wrapped around her like Momo's arm, keeping her in an embrace that made her eyes heavy with sudden fatigue. It settled in her chest, tickling the edges of her heart every time she took a breath, like the scent of coffee that clung to Momo. The more Ochako held onto that warmth, the more she noticed the promise of safety behind it, like a place she was all too familiar with.

"You're welcome," Ochako managed to slur out before closing her eyes. The warmth surrounding her grew stronger as Momo's other arm came around to fully hold her. Ochako felt her head shift from Momo's shoulder to her chest, the scent of coffee ever-present.

Teetering on the brink of unconsciousness, Ochako smiled softly to herself.

Momo felt like home.

The thought was enough to put her into an easy sleep.

thanks for reading, friend. im glad you decided to give this story of mine a try. ily, have a great day.