Ochako's day at the market had been like every other day at the market. It was crowded, almost bursting with people buying all sorts of wares from vegetables to bread to children's toys to jewelry. Her basket was full of the things that she had needed to get, but not one thing was what she had wanted. Sometimes, when her parents had enough money from commissions, they would give her a couple extra coins to buy herself something from the market. It wasn't often that they could afford it, and this time Ochako was not so fortunate. Of course the one time she finds something she wants, she doesn't have any extra money.
It wasn't anything particularly expensive - just a simple silver chain - but she needed it. Simple as that. It wouldn't have been a frivolous expense, either. The mysteriously gifted pearls couldn't stay rattling in the shell forever, after all, and she had already prepped the pearls to go on a necklace besides. All she needed was the chain, which she couldn't afford.
Ochako sighed and sat the basket down on the dining room table. She supposed that she would just have to save up and hope that someone else hadn't bought it.
The rest of her day at home wasn't all that eventful. She helped her mother with the laundry. Her father needed help with a carpentry commission, so she fetched nails and tools and anything else he needed. She helped with supper and the washing that came after. By the end of the day, she was weary.
She put on her nightie, and collapsed under the covers for the night.
A sharp breeze was what woke Ochako the next morning, as her windows were open. This had become quite a common occurrence, and she had gotten used to a chilled wind coming through her window.
There wasn't always something for her on the window sill - sometimes all that was there was the blood stain from the first fish - but oftentimes there was. Fish and pearls and small shells. Once, there was the skeleton of a small animal. Another time, a small precious stone. She kept all of her small gifts - aside from the fish, which she cooked and ate - in her vanity, amongst her stationary and combs.
This morning was different.
Ochako was getting tired of different mornings.
There were no animal remains - no fish or bones or teeth or feathers - or any new shells. There was a suspicious lack of anything, really, until she took a moment to look closer. Her morning gift was tucked into the corner of her window as opposed to where it normally was, which was in the center. The tiny bag was a drawstring cinch bag made of a soft velvety leather that Ochako could not stop stroking as she lifted it. It didn't feel heavy enough to be holding anything, but it definitely wouldn't hurt to check.
Just as Ochako went to pull the drawstring, her bedroom door creaked open.
"Good morning, dearest!" It was her mother. Despite the fact that the gift wasn't anything inappropriate, Ochako still hid it in the pocket of her nightie before turning to face her mom.
"Good morning," She gave her mom a hug before asking, "What's for breakfast?"
"The same thing we have every morning," another breeze filtered in through Ochako's curtains. "Is there a particular reason that your window is open? You'll catch your death that way."
Thinking quickly, Ochako said, "I was just - uh - feeling a little flush, that's it. Nothing to worry about!"
"You were feeling flush? Do you have a fever?" The older woman was worried and near frantic, using the back of her hand to brush at Ochako's forehead.
Ochako shook her head to dislodge her mother's worried checking. "I don't think I do. I think I must have had too many covers on last night, that's all." The bag in her nightie pocket felt heavier with every lie.
Her mother didn't seem to really buy her story, but she backed down nonetheless. She sighed and said, "Alright. You'll just have to be a little careful for a while."
With that, her mother turned and left back downstairs. SHe left Ochako with a five minute breakfast estimate and the privacy to finally open this morning's window parcel.
Ochako all but ripped her nightie pocket in her haste to retrieve the bag. She pulled the strings (braided cords, no frays) and reached her fingers in.
Inside the bag was a gift that she had never before received on her window. It was thin and delicate and shone in the soft morning sun. She recognized it instantly as the chain that she had so desperately wanted yesterday at the market.
"But - how -?"
"Ochako! Breakfast!"
Ochako dropped the chain back into the pouch and set it in her vanity drawer. This was a mystery that she would have to solve at a later date.
Over the course of the morning, she came to a conclusion. Whoever (for she was now sure that it was a 'who') was leaving these gifts had to have been following her yesterday at the market. It would have been the perfect opportunity, wouldn't it? She didn't know what this person looked like, plus the market had been overflowing with people. Ochako never would've spotted them, even if she had known what they look like.
Of course, when she brought the gift situation with Tsuyu and Izuku later that evening around their fire on the sea shore, they had a much more shocked reaction.
"How are you not as freaked out as I am right now?" was Izuku's response.
Ochako was very tempted to say, "Well, after you've become accustomed to the fact that this person has probably been watching you in your sleep, this scenario doesn't seem quite as bad," but she refrained. She didn't think that the other two would find her sarcasm nearly as funny.
"Listen you guys, I really don't think that this person poses any danger to me. All they're doing is leaving me gifts -"
"I think that you're ignoring the fact that they are breaking into your house - while you are sleeping - to do so. Do you realize how vulnerable you are in this situation?" Tsuyu said. Her eyebrows were drawn together, making her forehead look pinched.
"Well why don't you tell me how you really feel," Ochako mumbled.
Izuku, who had been quiet for a while, took this moment to interrupt.
"You said you've never seen this person, right?"
Ochako nodded, curious as to where exactly he was going to take this conversation.
"I've seen a little girl wandering around this area recently that I've never seen before," he said. "She has silver hair and is dressed in ragged clothing. I asked around the town and it doesn't seem that she has any parents in the area, which suggests - "
"If it is the little girl," Ochako interrupted Izuku, who would have muttered on for hours if she had let him. "Then I'm not in any more immediate danger than I was to begin with."
"Ochako, it doesn't matter their age. They are still breaking and entering into your bedroom. They keep leaving dead things on your window sill - "
"This time it wasn't dead."
"What," Both Tsuyu and Izuku looked about ready to pass out.
"But it wasn't alive either! It was the chain that I was looking at at the market yesterday."
"Oh my fucking gods. Of all the times for you to pick up a gift-giving stalker -"
That turn of phrase caught Ochako's attention. "What do you mean 'of all the times'? Would it have been different if I had picked up a gift-giving stalker ten years in the future?"
"Yes, because we would be there to help you."
"Well now you're not making any damn sense."
Izuku sighed. When he spoke next, his voice was warbled and cracking. "I guess it's as good a time to tell you now as any." He paused. Tsuyu looked like she was going to be sick in the fire pit. "An old mentor of mine needs the two of us for a sailing expedition. We sail out first thing next week."
Nobody spoke for a long time. The only sounds that could be heard were Izuku's crying and the ocean's whispering waves.
Ochako couldn't believe it. Her only two friends, the natural extension of her own family, were leaving. The ocean was not a forgiving place. It could decide to take her friends and keep them for good.
The only thing she could think to say was, "Please don't go."
Before she knew it, both of them were by her side. They wrapped their arms around her and hugged her from either side.
It was Tsuyu that next spoke.
'You know we wouldn't if we didn't have to."
The three of them stayed wrapped in each other's embrace until the early hours of the morning, when the fire had burned itself down to glowing embers. They had all run out of tears.
Once the sun had risen over the horizon, they knew that they had to go their separate ways. Quietly - silently - they kicked sand over the still warm fire pit, gave each other one last longing glance, and left.
Ochako found that though she had not slept a wink since the day before, she was unable to rest. She tried laying down and closing her eyes. She tried drinking her mother's special tea. Nothing worked. She couldn't stop thinking about how next week, she was going to be all alone.
Sighing, she got up from her place on the bed and sat down on the stool in front of her vanity. In the mirror, her hair was an absolute mess. Smoothing it down with her hands simply wouldn't work this time. When she opened her vanity drawer for a comb, it was not the comb that first caught her eye. It was the leather pouch and the oyster shell that was drawn out and placed on the counter.
If nothing else, she was going to put the gifts to use. Perhaps that would cheer her up.
Maybe.
The silver chain was just as shiny and delicate as it had been yesterday morning. The two pearls - slightly misshapen on account of them being unprocessed - were flush pink. It had taken hours to poke through the hard exterior of the pearls in order to make them ready for the necklace.
The pearls alone on the chain didn't quite look right to Ochako, so back to the vanity drawer she went. The precious stone that she had received was too big to go on the chain. A feather would get crushed and ruined. The only thing left was the collection of small animal bones.
In amongst the jumble of miniscule femurs and ribs rested a tiny skull. The bottom jaw was missing, leaving only the top half. The eye sockets were almost comically large for the size of the skull itself. It could have belonged to a mouse or a mole, Ochako wasn't quite sure. She was sure of one thing, though, and that was the fact that the skull would look good nestled in between the two pearls.
The bone of the skull was fragile enough that when she took a needle to the temple of it, it went clean through. She threaded the chain through the small holes, and put the other pearl on afterwards. It was done.
She slipped it over her head, and looked at herself in the mirror.
Her hair was still a mess of course, but the necklace itself was rather pretty. It didn't make her feel any better, though.
And she still couldn't sleep, despite her exhaustion.
The day went by painfully slow. By the time the sun set behind the waves, Ochako was ready to claw out of her skin.
"A walk," she said to herself as she threw on a shawl over her nightgown. "A walk will do me good. Clear my head."
By this point in the evening, her parents were both in bed. She wouldn't have to worry about getting caught. So, without shoes or a lantern, Ochako wandered out into the night.