Her parents had called earlier than morning to tell her that they couldn't make it to breakfast, but would settle for brunch instead. So, she bumps Sero's appointment up.

She's going to get all her work and family obligations out the way so she can have the night to herself for once.

"Sorry for the last-minute change of plans," she mentions as she closes the door behind him.

"No sweat," he says, ducking under the doorframe. This is the first time she'd seen him since they exchanged contact information in Denki's car.

At his full height, he towers over her—which, admittedly, isn't saying much. But he's even taller than Kirishima.

She pretends like she doesn't feel his eyes linger on her as he follows her to the living room. She turns to him.

His eyes dart around the room. She follows their gaze from her face, the carpet, and back up to her face. "So, um," he rubs the back of his neck with his scrawny arm. "Where should we…"

It amazes her just how shy these guys get in person. Behind the safety of a screen, he was trying to negotiate deep throating, but right now, in her apartment, he can't even look her in the eye. She stares at his blunt, clean teeth and shrugs.

"Wherever." she answers. She just wants him out already. "You wanna do it right here?"

Sero blinks at his surroundings. "Uh, yeah, sure. Here's good."

She guides him towards the couch and wait until he sits himself down. Ochako snaps the elastic off her wrist and puts her hair up in a functional ponytail.

He pulls her money out. Ochako takes the neatly folded bills and stuffs them into her back pocket.

"I don't mind if you touch my hair," she says scooting between his spread legs. "But just don't push my head, okay?"

She waits until he nods to start unzipping his pants. In the past, she's had guys grab a fistful of her hair and try skullfucking her.

"Got it," he says, turning his palms faceup before setting them on his lap. He's half hard already and as big as she'd expected.

She can feel his eyes on her again, waiting for her to start. She takes a deep breath. Sero does a good job of keeping quiet as she sucks him to full length.

"Can I… just move your hair?" he mumbles. She pauses as he clears his throat. "Out of your face?"

Her fringe always grows faster than the rest of her hair. In her haste, she'd neglected to put most of it up. When she sinks back down his shaft, she hums an affirmative.

His warm palm brushes the strands back, but his hand lingers for a moment. Ochako has the unfortunate insight to know exactly where this is going. She's about to pull off when he retracts his hand as if it was burnt.

"My bad," he says, and then sits on both hands.

She gets back to work, faster, sloppier. He's lasting longer than Denki. She has to hurry up and shower before meeting her parents.

Sero makes a noise as she starts purring around him. She uses more spit, more tongue, goes a little deeper to save time. He gets louder the further down she goes, so she keeps him in her mouth.

With her stubby fingers, she spreads his legs a little wider so she can sink herself deeper onto his dick. He's just about touching her tonsils now. She hears him give a couple soft sighs before filling her living room with a loud groan.

His come floods the back of her mouth in four short spurts. He's so far inside of her, she has to swallow to avoid choking. She never does this. She always spits, but he was in too deep.

She wishes he was in her throat to avoid tasting it. The pit of her stomach feels queasier with every swallow. She pulls off with a raw gasp.

Sero stretches his legs out and he lies back. She watches his chest rise and fall as he catches his own breath.

They sit in silence for a minute. She tries desperately to keep herself anchored. She doesn't have the time to dissociate right now.

Distantly she hears him zip himself back up. Ochako flinches when his long fingers reach for her chin. She stares blankly at him when he presses his lips to the crown of her head. "Thanks, gorgeous."

She blinks. Did he think she swallowed because she liked him? The thought makes her guts churn.

She wipes her mouth with the back of her hand and then rises. He takes the hint and follows her as she walks him out. She hates how slow men walk after they come.

"Later," he tosses over his shoulder.

"Bye." She slams the door behind him and locks it before rushing to the bathroom. It's a good thing to seat's already up, because her vomit has no patience. His semen tastes worse coming up.

Ochako slides her forehead along the porcelain. Why the fuck did she have to swallow?

She takes five minutes to gather herself. Her fuzzy pink bath rug is so comfortable, she's tempted to fall asleep here and now. Her day only just started but she's already exhausted.

Laboriously, Ochako pulls herself up and into a scalding shower. She sits in the unclean tub and lets the stream into her open mouth. She catches hot water and spits it out like she should've done ten minutes ago. Why the fuck did she have to swallow?

She does this for ten more minutes, then lathers herself up and rinses herself out. When she gets out, she gargles a quarter cup of mouthwash and doesn't spit it out until she's dry, dressed, and running towards the train station.


"They press their own juice here." Her mother remarks, staring fondly at the oranges and carrots in the display.

Ochako had tried the green juice here and she hates to admit how delicious it was.

"You should get some." she tells her, trying to be personable despite herself.

"Oh, honey," Her mom giggles, like it's an inside joke. The joke is they're poor and can barely afford watered-down, orange-flavored drinks with artificial coloring.

Ochako had sucked in all her tears on the train ride here. She thought she was just about done with distancing herself from her grief, but recalling her childhood always makes her shed a fresh set of tears.

She's not the kid that had to look under benches to scavenge some bus fare because her mom was tired of walking ten blocks to get home. She's a big girl. Her time is worth big money now. She makes enough to treat her parents to nice restaurants whenever they want, a luxury they could never provide for her.

They're the whole reason she started working these jobs anyway. The least they can do is be happy and not pretend like she's still broke. If only her mother knew what she had to do to afford to bring them to this yuppy-ass café in Shibuya.

"Mom." Her voice cracks. Ochako squeezes her wet eyes shut. She can still feel the burn of her vomit from earlier. "Just get the juice, oh my god."

Her parents are quiet as she reaches for the bottle of still water on the table. They were given three drinking glasses when the host seated them. She upturns hers and frowns at the stains on the crystal.

She doesn't look at anyone as she pours herself some water and takes a sip.

"So," her dad smiles gently. "How's that new job of yours?"

Ochako gulps down another sip of water so her voice doesn't crack again when she answers. "Fine."

"Where is it you work again?" Her mother asks. "Was it a school or…?"

Ochako takes a deep breath. She'd rehearsed what she'd tell them on her brisk walk to the train station.

"Well. I work from home, but, yeah, my employers are the board at school. They think I can qualify for tuition reimbursement if I keep working. Maybe I can enroll next fall or something," she mumbles, trying to stop talking to she doesn't have to lie anymore.

"That's wonderful!" Her dad comments. "You know, I never went to college—" She knows he never went to fucking college. That's probably why she had such a pisspoor upbringing.

Ochako tunes him out for the sake of her sanity. Her parents inadvertently push her buttons even when she's trying to do something nice for them. She looks around the restaurant for something to take her mind off her father's shortcomings.

Where the hell is their waitress? Ochako swears the staff just disappears and that's why the food takes so long to come out. She needs to hurry up and take their orders so Ochako can eat, pay, and take herself back home and cry in peace.

Her squinted eyes widen when she sees a familiar face among the staff. She follows his blonde head all the way up to their table.

She reads the name on his tag but doesn't believe it's him until he introduces himself. "Gooooood morning~" he says, and then checks the time on his phone. "Alright, yeah, perfect. It's still morning." Her mother laughs. Ochako's left eye twitches. "My name is Denki and I'll be taking care of you today."

Ochako sizes him up. The whites of his eyes are pink and his shirt's untucked. He looks like he just clocked in. He isn't even wearing an apron like the rest of the servers. She's pretty sure he's high.

He takes an appraising look at their booth. His eyes flash when he recognizes her. Ochako feels like ripping her face off. Maybe then he wouldn't know who she was. His eyes flit from her, to her parents, to the exposed strap of her bra, and back to her.

God. What are the odds?

To his credit, Denki brushes off the fact that he'd seen her tits and actually does his job. He flips open his notepad and bites the cap off his pen. "Can I get you guys started on some drinks?"

She almost gawks. His professionalism floors her.

While her dad is ordering his coffee the specific way he likes it, Ochako's mom elbows her. "He's cute," she whispers.

Ochako closes her eyes again and doesn't open them until her mom is done ordering her damn juice.

"And for you?" Denki asks. His smile is too sunny. Even if Ochako didn't know him, she'd still probably hate him.

She really needs a drink. "Let me get a mimosa. Extra strong."

Denki nods at her. He doesn't even write anything down. "Hope you can hold your liquor, girly."

It takes all her strength not to flip him off. She hopes her silence is as violent as she means for it to be.

"I'll be right out with your drinks," Denki promises before walking off.

To her chagrin, her parents actually thank him. Ochako has to excuse herself to the bathroom and rushes after him when she's out of her parents' sight.

She finds Denki just as he's about to turn the corner into the kitchen. She runs up to catch him by his collar.

"What are you doing here?" she hisses.

Denki blinks at her. "I work here."

Ochako nudges him into the wall. "I thought you sold drugs for Shinsou."

He shrugs. "Well, I can't exactly write plug when I'm filing my taxes, so, it's just easier to say I'm a waiter and that my tips make up that extra income."

She can't believe he thinks she wants an actual explanation as to why he's a waiter instead of why he's currently serving her family of all tables.

"I don't give a fuck about your taxes," she snaps. "Just make sure you don't say anything, alright? I'm serious, Denki. Don't get fresh around my parents."

He glances down at her with a perked brow. "What do you think I'm going to do? Tell them I bust a nut all over your—"

She slaps her palm over his mouth with a resounding clap. She wishes she could break his jaw so couldn't speak another word.

Her eyes narrow. "Don't even think about it. Act like you don't know anything and just do your job."

Denki grabs her wrist and shoves it away from him. "That's what I was fucking doing."

Ochako brings her hands back to her sides. "Good. Now go press my mom's juice and put the nicest orange slice on the rim, you fucking bastard."

One of the other servers slips by them and exchanges a look with Denki. Ochako can't read their expression, but she doesn't like it.

"Yes ma'am." Denki winks before turning back into the kitchen.

Ochako balls her fist into her back pocket and paces back to her table where her parents are marveling at the menu.

"Sumac strawberry french toast!" her mother beams.

"Orange blossom scones!" her dad quips.

"Those sound amazing—Oh! Matcha crepes!" her mom exclaims.

Ochako nods along pleasantly. Her parents are like two kids in a candy store and she's their indulgent mother. She'd sell her left kidney to keep them happy.

"We can try all of them." She says, just as Denki comes out with their drinks.

"Alright, we got… black coffee with no sugar and two hazelnut creamers, one strong mimosa, and…" he swirls her mother's juice garishly. "One sunrise juice with our nicest orange on the rim."

"Why, thank you," her mother says, already unwrapping her straw.

Her dad makes an appreciative hum after his first sip of coffee. Ochako resolutely doesn't say anything, just chugs half her mimosa while her parents order various dishes.

"What is it you do, son?" Her father asks all of the sudden, in the same tone he'd used with Ochako earlier.

Denki raises his eyebrows. For a moment, Ochako thinks he's going to say he sells drugs. "Uh. I'm in school, actually. I go to UA. I'm a fine arts major."

"Oh?" her mother remarks., rubbing Ochako's shoulder. "Our daughter wanted to go there. She's an amazing artist."

"No, I'm not." Ochako says, not depreciatively, just honestly. Her art sucks.

Denki's eyes flash again. "I'm sure she's got plenty of hidden talents."

Her dad smiles proudly. "This is our daughter, Ochako."

Ochako closes her eyes around a grimace. She hates that her formal introduction to these scumbag is through her parents.

"Ochako," Denki nods, expression unreadable but distressing all the same. "That's a pretty name."

Ochako nods back. Denki takes their menus are walks off. She follows his blonde head across the diner. There's pressure building behind her eyelids.

"You know, Ochako," her dad says while Ochako still has her eyes on Denki. "I always dreamed of saving up to send you to that school. I… I wanted to give you the life we never had. I should be ashamed of not being able to send you to school myself, but I'm so, so proud of you for doing all this for yourself."

Ochako stares directly at her lap, nodding stiffly. The underwire of her bra feels like it's squeezing her ribcage. Her heart feels like it's about to burst. She can't hear this right now. She shuts her eyes around a stray tear.

"Don't cry, honey," her mom rubs the teardrop that just fell into the denim of her knee and brings her close to kiss her temple. Ochako wanted to wait until she was home alone to ugly cry, but this lousy day is gonna bring it out of her in public. "We love you."

She allows herself only a moment of weakness. She's not going to do this on her mom's birthday. She shoves the heel of her palm over her eyes and reaches for her drink.

"I love you, both," she mutters after she swallows.

"And we love you," her father says.

When Ochako finally looks up, Kaminari is giving her a wicked grin from across the restaurant. The room spins when one of his coworkers winks at her.

"So, so much."