Ochako liked to consider herself a driven, academic-focused young college girl, who wanted nothing more than to study, get good grades, and graduate, with occasional get-togethers, snuck in between study sessions. Whenever she'd get stuck, frustrated or discouraged in any way, she always closed her eyes, took a deep breath, and connected the tips of her fingers.
A silly little habit really. Her mother had always done it whenever she was stressed about making ends meet. After hunching over the desk and gripping at her hair she'd always sit up straight, breath, and 'release'. Watching her mother do that after a bill came in mail seemed to stick with her. And now, she thought of it as a reminder of her childhood home. An hour-long drive from the dorms at U.A University. Considered to be a prestigious learning environment in Tokyo.
In a high stress, two-tests-every-week learning environment, Ochako learned very quickly she couldn't afford to party until ungodly hours and drink. Not if she wanted to leave and help her parents as quickly as she wants to.
She rubbed her temples at the thought. One night would be ok, wouldn't it? No one said it would last until the three am mark, right? Even if that were true, she could always leave early.
Uraraka turned to the pile of papers stacked on her desk. All of which were uncompleted, or empty.
A game of ping pong was playing in her mind, and it was all because of yesterday afternoon.
confectionery confessions
"Mina, please. We've got some similar topics and I think it'll be good for you!" Uraraka frowned.
The tanned girl laughed, placing a hand on Urarakas. "And I think this will be good for you too! Getting good grades are fine and all- great in fact but taking care of yourself is also just as important! And what better way to do that than go to a Valentine's Themed Party?"
Uraraka turned away, burying her eyes in the shadows her brown hair cast in the sunset light. It had become routine for them to walk together out of their classes since they were both on the same block.
Mina's smile had dimmed, and eventually, her hands dropped, swaying at her sides as she strode in front of her gloomy friend.
"Listen," she said, "I don't know what's been going since Middle School, but you really do need to have a day to relax. You used to be so fun and carefree! What happened to that pink-cheeked, bubbly girl I met all those years ago?"
"She grew up and learned that she doesn't have to waste her time with pointless parties,"
Mina drew back, too shocked. Uraraka drew back too, surprised she'd yell at one of her closest friends like that.
"I'm sorry!" She said, throwing her hands out in front of her. "I am so sorry- I didn't mean to say it like that, it's just…"
Uraraka gripped at her red coat, bunching the fabric in her hands and making creases. With each word she uttered, she gripped tighter.
"It's gotten worse since then. Work has been harder and harder to find, and…" she found herself stopping when she felt Mina wrapping her arms around her in a tight hug.
"It's ok," she said, "I understand,"
In her brown eyes, Uraraka could imagine what someone would see if they saw what was swirling in them. Pain, guilt and incredible sorrow. For years she'd been holding it back. Smiling to give a fake illusion of self-assured composure. But there would always be those moments when the last person would leave the room. She would cry. In this case, burying her face in Mina's shoulder seemed suitable.
She felt Mina's fingers caress sift through her hair, and whether it was the sensation it brought or the topic Uraraka had been too sensitive to share, it reminded her of her mother. Of her smile whenever she came home from school. It reminded her of her father, and the grin he wore, always staying superglued onto his face no matter what challenge would try to tear it off.
Minutes passed by, and the winter breeze picked up. The clouds were retreating into the horizon and racing towards the sun, swapping colours of red, orange and pink along the way.
"Hey now," Mina said, backing up slightly to face her, "If you don't want to go, that's fine. It's your decision. But I need you to promise me you'll start thinking about yourself now, ok?"
Ochako stepped back and nodded, wiping at the moisture that had gathered in her eyes. "I promise," she said. She owed her that much after yelling at her like that. And more.
Had too much studying been the cause of this? Was working to ensure a safe future for her family pushing people she cared for away?
Ochako stared at the pamphlet on the ground. Hearts peppered the page, the colours the same as the ones in the sky. In bold words, it said, 'Valentine's Party! Yaoyozoru's at 7;30pm!'
Mina followed her line sight and frowned at it. Uraraka didn't like the guilt she found in her friend's eyes, and picked it up, folding it and placing it into a large pocket in her coat.
"I'll be there,"
But would she?
Yes, she would. No buts about it. She's got to do this for Mina. She yelled at her when she was only trying to help, for crying out loud.
But what would she bring? Drinks? Food? Chocolate hearts, maybe? Or is bringing sweets to people you barely know weird?
The game of ping pong continues.
Uraraka pushed the thought aside once she glanced at her phone. Nine fourty five. Two days until the party.
Grabbing a pen, a handful of papers from the mountainous pile on her messy desk and booting up her computer, she got to work.
From head to toe, he could feel the beads of sweat begin their race down his body beneath the training suit- even though it was still winter. Kacchan had really outdone himself today, and Izuku almost thought he couldn't catch up.
The adrenaline was starting to wane, and the ache in his muscles begin to make themselves known in their full glory. They'd only be briefly acknowledged when Izuku winced reaching for the locker holding his things and forgotten about. Replaced with the thought that a shower would ease his body.
And ease his body it did. The beads of sweat were chased away onto the tile by hot water the moment he stepped in a cubicle.
He heard a door open, followed by a grunt and the sound of dragging feet.
"Kirishima?" He said, hoping it wasn't someone else instead.
"Midoriya?" Came the redhead's reply, somewhat surprised. "How'd ya know it was me?"
"You don't sound very happy…" he replied sheepishly. He remembered the last time he saw him; he was being held back from going to break by one of the Captains.
Furious shuffles of slippers and clothes helped proved his point.
"I just can't seem to get any better," he groaned from the other side of the cubicles. "I run every morning, train at the gym for hours on weekends, and I listen to motivational vids on YouTube. But here we are! Taking extra hours with Aizawa."
Another voice (probably another trainee showering,) piped in, "You know if he heard you say his real name instead of his official title, he'd kick your ass, right?"
"Shut up, Monoma!"
Izuku's grin was ear to ear as he turned off the shower nobs and grabbed his towel. Never a dull moment at the sixth district. "I'm sure it'll be fine. I mean, the whole point of it all is to make you stronger, so just focus on the opportunity you've been given," Once dried, he got out of the cubicle and cut across the room to his locker.
"Are you encouraging me or scolding me right now?"
"You guys are so loud," A monotone and sharp voice came to make itself known. If Midoryia had known Torodoki was here, he would have been much quieter.
"Sorry," He mumbled, hearing Kirishima say something similar from the showers.
The TFD was always hard on its trainees and firefighters, pressuring them to keep a consistent workout routine to counterattack any situation presented to them. As well as suppressing fires, it was also their duty to rescue people from dangerous situations. An act Izuku always felt drawn to. Helping people.
Each year, all the districts would demonstrate their skills in mock rescue situations, drills, and races, encouraging those who passed by to consider joining or volunteering.
Pulling a hoodie over a white t-shirt and some basketball shorts, he put on his shoes and made way to the door, almost jumping out of his clothes when it opened before he could reach the handle.
Emerging from the other side of the door was Kacchan, scowling the minute he saw Izuku. The freckled boy opened his mouth to say a greeting but was promptly cut off when Kacchan kept walking, bumping his shoulder with an intimidating force.
Izuku could only sigh and walk back home.
Ever since the Demonstration last January, Kacchan, (better known as Bakugo in the district,) had set the fastest ladder climb last year of three-point five four seconds. Earning himself praise and solemn, yet encouraging nods from higher-ups, and winning all the solo races. He didn't exactly get along with everyone during the team-oriented ones, however…
Izuku grabbed at the nape of his neck with a scarred and crocked hand. Sirens and their volume raised and lowered in the air, a melody to the slow steps he would take to his apartment. Each night, this drained body would take the fifteen-minute walk to the bus and arrive home exhausted.
He opened the door and set his keys aside. He rubbed his hands together, and turned on the heater, flopping on the bed and rolling on his back.
A white ceiling welcomed him back home. Somehow, he felt bitter towards the ceiling. Always there, never changing. Just the same. Old. Ceiling.
And no matter how much it tried, it seemed it would never change.
In a sleepy haze, he threw a pillow at the ceiling and turned off the light. Going to sleep, just as quickly.
Two days have never flown as quick as the last two did in her entire life. And with crossed fingers, she hoped Friday wouldn't be an exception. It's the norm; Mondays are slow because they're at the beginning of the week, and Friday is the shortest because it's at the end. This unspoken law has yet to be broken.
Until today.
Valentine's Day.
Ochako counted the hours from now, nine forty-five am. Her only class today would be at twelve, so she'd usually leave her dorm at eleven twenty. And in between the hours of class, home chores and studying, she didn't exactly do much. Nothing except catch up on lost sleep- if that counts.
And boy, has she been up lately. Homework was a good distraction from the incredibly tempting thoughts she'd occasionally feel of dragging head down do a soft pillow or couch, but it also made her work sloppy, and wrong. Ochako groaned into her hands.
Deciding that perhaps a change of scenery would brighten up her mood, she changed into a pair of jeans, a t-shirt, and her favourite coat. Eagar to outrun from the torturous hand and breathe in some natural air.
Turns out, however- there was no refuge from her thoughts outside.
Couples, both old and young, all cut across the pathways with hands and arms entangled together.
A girl, with her arm delicately wrapped around her lover's like a vine, almost skipped across the pavement- leading him into a restaurant with a rose in her hair. The man she accompanied seemed startled at the pace she was going but smiled nonetheless.
Across the heart garland street was an elderly couple, sitting at a bench together. Admiring a ballet of leaves, which danced on the air and onto their heads and laps- where there old and worn hands were held together.
Passer-by's would probably mistake the flush of red on her nose as the biting cold- nipping at her skin with an icy influence. But they would be wrong.
Ochako wiped her nose and eyes discretely, thinking it better do just keep moving. She briefly chastised herself. How could she forget it was Valentine's day here too? She's been stressing about it all morning after all.
Twenty minutes she spent. Shops blurred together even at the slow pace she was walking. Despite how things were when she first stepped out- things were going ok. The air was ice- cold and refreshing. And the weather was crisp and dewy from the rain that visited last night.
But eventually, Ochako found herself stopping once again for the second time in that hour-long walk. Staring across a field in which a chain-linked fence blocked her from entering any further into.
Men, wearing orange jumpsuits with white belts and caps, jogged along a muddy track. The front of the pack- a spiky blonde, yelled words that she couldn't hear- but was sure it wasn't meant for her, anyway.
Rather, for the strange boy who replied, seemingly out of breath. His cheeks seemed to look flushed- even from the distance between them. The mop of green he had for hair was a stark contrast to the orange he wore. He yelled something back to his friend and the front. His knees lifted higher, arms cutting through the air more sharply, and his pace was steadily matching the blonde in front of him.
Ochako found herself oddly transfixed to the scenario. Inspired. He seemed to have a hard time, (she was almost certain she heard his wheezing from across the field,) but kept going.
She acknowledged a sign hanging off of the fence to her right. 'PRIVATE PROPERTY OF THE TFD. DO NOT PASS WITHOUT AUTHORITY.'
She felt obligated to smile a bit and turned across the street to a confectionary store she barely noticed earlier.
An idea lit up in her head and illuminated her eyes. She checked her wristwatch. Ten thirty. Time was obviously not on her side today.
meep
this was meant to go out on valentines day... oops
yeah so, I'm not great at sticking with schedules, and that's not just limited to ff. i have a habit of finishing something or giving up on something too early but I don't want to do that here. maybe try to break the habit.
but I'm not gonna make promises I won't keep (did I do that already?) and it's not like I've forgotten about ff or these stories at all, its just after a day of school im no tired my lazy butt doesn't want to move haha
this is a two-parter so I will continue it
I tried studying the Japanese fire department as best as I could. you should see the videos of them- they're really fast!
another thing, I debated whether I should use their last or first names, Midoriya and Uraraka, or Izuku and Ochako. I went with the latter but there might still be some inconsistencies.
either way I hope you enjoyed!
bye for now!