5
"There is a maniac on the loose."
"That's a great band name," Kyouka says. "'There Is A Maniac On The Loose.'"
"No, seriously," Mina says, showing her phone. "Some guy's cutting up random Heroes in the central area. It's all over socmed."
"Oh, I know about that—the Hero slasher or something."
"Hero Killer."
"Yeah, that."
"It's been going on for a while, no?" Tsuyu says. "Like, for two months already."
"Yeah, but the pics finally got leaked—"
"Let me see?" Tooru takes a look. "Ew!"
"Yeah, it's kinda gross. Hey, Ochako, can I borrow your lipbalm?"
"Tinted or non-tinted?"
"Tinted is fine—thanks."
"Ew," Kyouka says, squinting at Mina's phone. The brightness is turned all the way up, but the screen is still hard to see in the afternoon sun. "Oh well. Haters gonna hate."
"Real."
"You know, I think I'd be really pissed if I got killed. But stabbing's not a bad way to go."
"Bleeding to death isn't a bad way to go?" Tooru says. "What are you on, girl?"
"Better than getting burned to death."
"Death by drowning or death by fire? Pick one."
"I'd rather just not die," Tsuyu says calmly and intellectually.
"Drowning would suck, actually," Mina says thoughtfully. "Not being able to breathe sounds like it'd hurt a lot."
"Nah, I'm still on team Fire Sucks," Kyouka says. "If I ever get killed, I hope the bitch who did it gets burned to death after."
"That's a great band name," Tsuyu says. "'If I Ever Get Killed I Hope The Bitch Who Did It Gets Burned To Death After.'"
"I don't know if I wanna burn, but I for sure don't wanna drown," Mina says, still thinking about it seriously. "I don't wanna hang either. Yeah. Maybe stabbing's good."
"A freak accident would be cool," Tsuyu says.
"What's wrong with you guys?" Tooru says. "Momo, what's wrong with them?" Momo just laughs.
"What d'you think, Ochako?" Mina says. "Fire or water? What's your death?"
"That depends."
"On?"
"My mood," Ochako says, to Mina's raucous laughter.
"Hey, wanna make a band?" Kyouka says suddenly. "Momo, you can play the piano, right? Mina can do drums, and—"
Tooru raises her hand. "I rip like crazy on the recorder."
"You just stay put. Pass me the sunblock, though." Kyouka squints, shielding her eyes with her hand. "Oh, look. The guys are all there. Hey!"
Far ahead at the beach, beneath some palm trees, they see the boys setting up mats and foldable tables and everything. Kaminari is waving his arms at them.
"Hey!" Kaminari's voice yells. He's already in his swimwear and is, for some reason, holding a bat. "Over here!"
Kyouka shapes a cone with her hands. "What are you guys doing?!"
"We're going to beat the shit!" he yells back. "Out of some watermelons!"
"Well!" Kyouka yells back. "Wait for us then, damn it!"
"Okay!" Kaminari gives a thumbs up.
"Let's go," Kyouka says to the girls.
Someone brought a volleyball too, so after they beat the shit of watermelons (and eat them, and throw the meat at each other, and then eat them again) some kids go to play volleyball and others go for a swim in the sea. Or climb the windbreaker and look at the sky, which is what they're opting to do. "I heard it gives you cancer," Mina says next to her. "The sunlight."
"You'll be fine if you use sunblock."
"I heard sunblock gives you cancer."
"The two cancers cancel each other like PEMDAS, so you're good, bitch."
"There is no medical evidence that sunblock causes cancer," Momo informs helpfully. "UV rays from the sun do damage your cell, that is indeed true, but that does not necessarily increase your chance of getting cancer..."
"Yes, it just means you have the same chance of getting cancer as everyone else," Ochako says, and they laugh.
"Which means we are all getting cancer."
"Okay, that's totally cool."
"Whose idea was this outing anyway? Wasn't it you, Mina?"
"Huh? I thought it was you. No, no, maybe it was Kirishima?"
"A little class bonding right before we beat each other up in the Sports Festival, huh?" Kyouka says. "Neat. Is everybody here?"
"Not everyone. Sato had some cousins coming over, Bakugou said fuck no—"
"To nobody's surprise."
"Todoroki didn't exactly say fuck no, but he said nothing, and he isn't here, so that's also a fuck no..."
"What's that guy's deal? He's kinda cute though."
"If you're into the Sasuke type, yeah. But anyway, more or less everyone's here."
"Nice."
They fall into a pleasant silence. And then Mina abruptly says, "He really quit, huh?"
They all know who she is talking about immediately. "Hell yeah," Kyouka says. "Small blessings. If he was here I wouldn't have come to this outing."
"...I wouldn't either," says Momo softly.
"Wonder if he changed schools or what."
"Didn't you know?" Kyouka says. "Ochako killed him."
There is a tell-tale pause that happens after a joke where its listeners aren't sure if it's appropriate yet to laugh at. Up above a seabird passes. The sun is blinding from this angle, even with Ochako's sunglasses shielding her eyes. The air tastes of salt. It's a beautiful day. "Yeah, I killed him," Ochako says, and the tension breaks. They all laugh.
"Okay, for real, Ochako," Kyouka says. "Did you kill him? I won't judge. I'll be your alibi."
"Of course I didn't."
"Oh, sure you didn't—"
"I just took him on a date."
There is a beat of silence. And then they all laugh again. Hard. "Oh, man," Kyouka says, still giggling. "With your feminine wiles, huh?"
Ochako smiles. "With my feminine wiles," she confirms. "I also made him steal an ice cream from a kindergartener for me to prove that he loves me." Her classmates laugh harder. "And then I took him on the Ferris wheel. At sunset."
"Stop," Mina says, between gasps. "My stomach hurts."
"Ochako, please..."
"It was so romantic," Ochako says. "I said. Mineta-kun. Let's die together so we can be with each other forever."
Kyouka wipes tears from her eyes. "Ochako, you're fucking hilarious," she says. "Okay, but seriously. Jokes aside. Did you kill him?"
"No, I just framed him and blackmailed him into leaving UA," Ochako says. "It's not a lot of work honestly, most of the blackmail stuff is already there. I did use my Quirk on him, but just a little. Otherwise he wouldn't think I was serious."
The three of them are looking at her. No one is laughing anymore. Momo says, "What?"
"Just kidding," Ochako says.
"...You know, Ochako," Kyouka says. "That sense of humor of yours needs a trigger warning. Never change, you hear me? Never change."
"Oh, don't worry," Ochako smiles. "I could never."
Ochako gets bored of lying in the sun after a while and excuses himself to the bathroom ("Just pee in the sea," Mina suggests), which means she proceeds to walk around the seaside to see if there is anything interesting to do. Who knows, somebody might be drowning, a jellyfish-themed Villain might show up, a mermaid might wash up ashore to get a true love's kiss—whatever the fuck.
Nothing, though. It seems like a peaceful day. Kids are running around with kites in the sky. Happy families building sandcastles together. Old couples suntanning under floral umbrellas with coconut drinks in hand. The scenery around her is picture-perfect, one that could've been taken right out of an insurance ad.
How nice. Should Ochako start blowing bubbles and chasing butterflies as well? Or should she fill up her pockets with stones and walk into the sea to change the trajectory of everybody's lives? So many options, she simply can't deci—
"Uraraka-san?
She turns. "Ojiro-kun," she says.
Ojiro-kun smiles at her—not too brightly, and a little awkward. The apprehensiveness isn't out of real dislike; it's the hesitance of someone interacting with a person they never interacted with before. "Hey," he says. "Uh. Nice weather out, huh?"
"Just incredible." A few more of this incredibly insightful exchange and she will try and see if her Quirk can create levitating tsunamis.
"Yeah! Um, anyway. Just wanted to tell you Midoriya-kun was looking for you. He was right over, uh—" Ojiro-kun squints into the distance, shielding his eyes from the sun. "He went in that direction, but, well, as you can see the guy's pretty quick…"
Ochako walks aimlessly on the shoreline for ten minutes before she finally spots Deku. He's bent down, picking plastic bottles and someone's broken slippers and putting them in his big trash bag like the good boy that he is. Any second now he's perhaps going to save cats from trees and help grandmothers cross the roads.
"Hey," Ochako says.
Deku turns. "Hey. Uraraka-san," he says.
He's sweating, freckled cheeks flushing under the sun. "How—how is it going?" he says. "Um, nice weather out, right…"
That's what happens when you copy people whose social skills aren't that high above yours. "Looking for treasures, Deku?"
"Oh, um..." he makes an awkward, aborted movement, as if trying to hide his Good Samaritan tongs and plastic bags out of view for some reason. "Just, you know. Cleaning up a little bit."
"That's nice," Ochako says. "Saving the earth one sachet at a time, huh?"
There is a moment of pause where Ochako wonders if he would misread and take it as an insult. But then he cracks a smile. He's getting a little better at that, she finds—at understanding that not everyone is out to get him. "I hope so," he says.
Hmm. How very adorable. "Ojiro-kun said you were looking for me?"
"Oh! Yes, yes I was, um—" he looks around. "Ah, I left the thing in my bag..."
Ochako watches him flounder around. "You got something for me?"
"Yes, I did," he says. And then realizing how it comes off, he becomes redder than he already was. "Oh, it's not, um, much, it's just a little something I made..."
Ochako tilts her head. "You made something for me?"
"I—"
Whatever embarrassing thing Deku is going to say is cut off by a stranger intruding into their conversation in the next second.
He is a very tall man, even skinnier than he is tall. This tall stranger comes looming with a bottle of water in hand, saying, "Son, I really do think you need to take a break—oh."
The man stops. He looks at her. She looks at him. He looks at Deku. Deku looks at him.
"Uh," Deku says intellectually. Something flashes across his face: panic. "Um. Uraraka-san, this is, uh, this is—"
"Hello," Ochako bows politely. "Are you Deku-kun's dad?"
The man trips.
It's like watching a giraffe sway and fumble. He catches himself—and the water bottle—at the last moment, however. "Excuse me—I'm fine—" he says, to Deku who has come to his maybe-father's side. He looks at Ochako, and really, the resemblance is astonishing. Down to the awkward smile and the aura of severe depression radiating off him, it all must be genetic. "No, I'm not Izuku's—"
"Yeah, no, he's—"
"I'm his, ah, teache—"
"He's my, um, uncl—?"
"Mentor—?"
They even stutter in the same way. How very, very adorable. Bad at lying runs in the genes.
Ochako nods understandingly. "He is your uncle who is also your mentor and your teacher by extension?" she says.
They go silent. They look at each other. And then they look back at her. "Yes," they say pathetically.
Whatever is going on here—it's mildly funny. Only mildly. Not funny enough for Ochako to give a shit, that's for sure.
The teacher-mentor-uncle person recovered first. "My name is Yagi Toshinori," he says. "Hello. I believe you are Uraraka-kun?"
"Yes," she says. He is pale and sallow under the sun. Skeletal. Like he's terminally ill or something. "It's nice to meet you!"
"Pleasure's all mine. Well, I'll … let you both go and have fun, now," he says, with that unpracticed smile. He hands Deku the water. "Take a break, son. See you, Uraraka-kun."
"See you," says Ochako, who for the life of her cannot think up a possible situation where she would ever see him again. "Your uncle seems nice."
Deku is tying up the plastic bag of his garbage haul. "He's—yeah, he's very nice."
"He drove you here?"
"No, uh—we just bumped into each other. We used to frequent this beach a lot.."
"Like when he's mentoring you?"
Deku turns to look at her so fast it's a wonder his neck doesn't fall off on the spot. "What?"
Ochako smiles. "He said he's your mentor, right? What's he mentoring you on?"
"Oh. Yeah. Uh. He's—he taught me." he pauses. "Swimming."
They've begun walking back together. "Oh yeah? Like breast strokes."
"Yeah. Like. Butterfly strokes.."
"Uhuh."
Deku opens his mouth, but closes it again, seemingly aware of his own worsening lies. He's blushing in shame and everything. It's a lame, pathetic look on him, which is to say it isn't a stretch from what he usually looks on the daily. Ochako kindly changes the topic of conversation because she is just so nice. "Here," Ochako says, gesturing to his tongs and trash bags. "I'll help you save the earth."
"Oh, you don't have to—"
"Who are you from stopping me to save the earth, Deku?" He gives her one of his tongs and trash bags.
The sun has mellowed down, a little. Around them is the sound of the waves crashing, children laughing, winds blowing. Seabirds up above. The trees rustling. The earth turning. Gravity, humming. Deku watches in silence as Ochako leisurely picks up any trash she comes across and puts it inside the floating plastic bag carried by her Quirk. Plastic bottle. Cigarette box. "You do this often?" Ochako says conversationally. "Cleaning up."
"Sometimes.."
Sachet. A random slipper. "With your mentor slash uncle?"
He's practically glowing red in her periphery. "S—sometimes."
"How fun," she says. Ew, this one looks like someone's vape coil. Now that's the kind of cancer you should worry about. "I don't have a cool uncle. Is he from your dad's side or your mom's side?"
Deku's voice adopts the wavering quality of someone who is circumstantially forced to burrow deeper into their own lies. "Oh. Um, mom's side..."
"How fun," Ochako says again, watching Deku squirm from the corner of her eyes. So cute. "Is he your mom's older brother? Do you take from your mom's side more?" Ochako continues, knowing full well she is doing something cruel by pushing him around like this. "Is his Quirk like yours?"
"I—yes—no, it's," Deku looks so helpless under the barrage of questions, it's adorable. "I guess. Yes. A little bit.."
"How fun. So other than breast strokes, does he teach you to use your Quirk as well?"
He pales. Bingo. Honestly, Ochako hasn't a clue why he's making such a big deal out of this. "Sometimes," Deku says weakly.
"How fun. I never had anybody teach me how to use my Quirk," Ochako says. She had to learn it all by herself. With the help of nearby objects and people and the hum of the entire existing universe, of course. She nods at the trash bag. "Where are we supposed to throw away all these?"
The day ends with a bonfire, barbecue grills and marshmallows on sticks. Nobody has gotten into fights or broken into tears yet, which is too bad, but she understands that this is a sign of a successful outing, which is also too bad. Kaminari and Kirishima are shotgunning milk tea cans with Kaminari coming out as the winner and receiving ten marshmallows on a stick as a reward.
He brandishes it like a sword. "To the Sports Festival!" He looks around at his classmates. "C'mon, man. To the Sports Festival!"
"Kinda cringe," someone says, but they all end up brandishing their sticks anyway. "To the Sports Festival!"
"May we get good internships!" says Kaminari. "And maybe someone will notice me and scout me to model for a magazine or something!"
"Okay."
"And may I win," Kaminari adds. "Because it would be so cool if I do, can we toast to that too?"
"Sit down and eat your damn marshmallows."
"Okay," he sits down.
They split up at the train station, everyone hugging and fistbumping each other goodbye—typical stuff. Ochako says all the mandatory phrases religiously. We should do this again, This was so fun, Thanks everyone.
Oh, right. She almost forgot. "By the way, Mina, you said you put the lipbalm in my bag, right?"
"Yeah! Why?"
Ochako zips her bag close. "Oh, nothing," she says. She steps on her train and waves. "See you tomorrow. This was so fun!"
"Midoriya," Todoroki Shouto says.
Like every other class, 1-A is assigned a waiting room before they come out to face the music and to enter the Who's Got the Best Quirk competition on live television. This room descends into silence after the quietest kid in the class speaks up.
Deku has that terrorized deer look on his face that always comes out whenever he is being addressed. "Oh, um. Yes? Todoroki-kun?"
Todorki's eyes are cold and the definition of unfriendly. He is the tallest in class, even taller than Yaoyorozu, and he hasn't spoken a single word in the entire first month of UA until this very moment. "On an objective basis," Todoroki says, "I am above you in terms of practical strength."
Everyone goes even quieter, astonished at Todoroki's abrupt statement. Deku is starting to go red. "W-what?"
Todoroki's tone is inflectionless, as flat as his icy expression. "But I won't underestimate you. After all, you've managed to get All Might's eyes on you."
Deku pales. Ochako watches as he does—the way he stiffens up, the way he goes stiller than stone. Todoroki doesn't seem to give a fuck that he's somehow Medusa'd Deku, however. "It doesn't matter," Todoroki says in his deadpan way. "I don't care if you're his secret love child—"
Deku chokes.
"—Or his prized pupil or whatever. Either way I'm going to beat you."
"..Hey, man," Kirishima says, breaking the stunned silence after Todoroki's statement. He reaches for Todoroki's shoulder, brows knitted in a frown. "What's up with you? Don't spring this up on him right before the tournament, c'mon, where's your bro code—"
Todoroki shrugs his hand off. "I'm not here to make friends."
Kirishima laughs, a pissed, bewildered sound. "The hell? Okay!"
"Kirishima-kun, it's okay," Deku says suddenly. To Ochako's surprise, he looks Todoroki right in the eye—his gaze calmer than she expected, and while his voice is quiet, it's clear and sound. "Todoroki-kun, I have … no idea why you're telling me all this, but.." he takes a deep breath. "Looking at it objectively: yes. You're stronger than me. And probably a lot of other people too. I'm no match for you."
"Oh, Midoriya, don't say that," Ojiro pipes up. "You're—"
"No, it's okay. I just want to say. Even—even if Todoroki-kun is strong, everyone—every kid from the other departments are fighting with all their might, everyone is fighting to be on top, everyone—"
Ochako's focus kind of breaks down at this bit, Deku's words blur over in her ears but she does catch things like AllMight, and doing their best, and dream, and Heroes, Everyone this, Everyone that, stuff like that. She tunes back in after a while.
"—So I'm going to go for it," Deku declares, shaking like a leaf but with fire burning in his eyes, accompanied by the spirit of youth and justice. "With all my might too. I'm not going to l-let you beat me."
Another silence. Then the boys ooh and break into cheers and claps and Way to go, Midoriya! as if Midoriya had just made the best Ted Talk speech in the whole wide world. Todoroki-kun says nothing, just looks at Midoriya with that flat gaze and leaves. Deku sits back down, face red, with Ojiro and Kirishima patting his back on either side of him.
"Wow," Kyouka comments next to Ochako. The girls have been watching everything go down with some kind of apathetic entertainment. "It's that serious, huh?"
"Boys," Mina says, shrugging.
The sun is high in the sky and the stadium is bigger than what Ochako expected—there are people all around for what feels like miles, their cheers and excitement vibrating down to the ground underneath her feet. It's heavy, the weight of them all. Present Mic's voice echoes throughout the arena: "Welcome to the UA's Sports Festival, where the Hero world's inchoate little eggs aim for each other's throats—and the top! Here begins our grand yearly melee!"
This is it. The UA Sports Festival.
Ochako watched the Sports Festival for the first time when she was maybe four, or five. It's aired on national television, as it has been for fifty years and will perhaps be for another fifty years. She remembers the cheering. She remembers the kids fighting in it. The Quirk showdown. The blood splattered all over the screen and then—again—the cheering.
Some of those kids must be Pros by now. Or permanently disabled. Or maybe dead in an alley somewhere after a Hero killing maniac has got their hands on them.
Oh well. That's Heroics to you, yes? Worth the pension and glamor, she's sure.
"..But let me guess, you miscreants came here to see them, right?! The freshly-formed miracle stars that shrugged off a mass Villain attack with wills of steel—The Department of Heroics freshman year, Class 1-A!"
"Goddamn, we have to fight all of these people?" Kyouka says as they all walk into the arena, surrounded by pissed off students from classes who didn't get as cool an introduction from Present Mic. "There are like a hundred kids here."
"A hundred and twenty-three students," says Momo helpfully.
"Now, the tradition for a player representation to give a speech—" Present Mic says. "Please welcome Bakugou Katsuki of 1-A, who scored top place in the Entrance Exam of 2XXX!"
Bakugou Katsuki walks up the podium with the confidence of a boy whose world is his oyster and he is its pearl, while everybody else would be lucky if they could get their hands on some supermarket-grade crab sticks. His blonde hair is blinding underneath the noon sun atop that permanent bitch face, and there isn't a single hint of insecurity in his demeanor as he looks at the crowd and the millions of people watching all over Japan. He says to the mic, "I'm going to step all over you third-rate Hero wannabe motherfuckers."
And then he walks off the podium.
The boos and jeers that follow are deafening, especially from other side character classes who are enraged by the modern day Nike shoes-wearing Prometheus' arrogance. "Great, now everyone's gonna hate on us," Tooru sighs. "Oh well."
"All right!" Present Mic says, cheerful and unbothered by Bakugou's declaration of war. "Now we move to the preliminaries event, the first step towards a series of tests to climb to the top! As you are aware, contestants will be weeded out one by one until only the ten of you are left to participate in a one-on-one fight. Are you ready, freshies?"
"It's starting, it's starting!" Mina jumps in place as Present Mic lays out the rule for the first event. She looks excited, as do the rest of them, eyes glittering and teeth bared in a grin. "Gosh! Ready, Ochako?"
"So ready," Ochako says.
Present Mic's voice pierces the air. "Let the first round begin!"
Seven hours later Ochako finds herself getting pushed against the wall of 1-A waiting room so hard, everyone present can hear a crack.
"You bitch," Bakugou hisses to her face, soot-covered hands tight around the collars of her uniform. "You think I'm fuckin' stupid?"
There is a stunned silence before the class goes into chaos.
The girls come to Ochako's side immediately. Mina seems to have lost her cool, yelling at Bakugou and moving forward to shove him, with Tooru attempting to pull her back. Meanwhile, Kirishima and Kaminari are holding Bakugou back, yelling at him about how he can't hit a girl. A funny thing to say right after the Sports Festival Tournament where everyone was just beating everybody else up, gender roles be damned.
"Ochako-chan, are you okay?" Tsuyu says. "Is your head fine?"
"I'm okay," Ochako says, but her statement drowns underneath the yelling of the class.
"What the hell's the matter with you, Bakugou?!" Mina snaps. "She's still hurt from the tournament—you both are!"
"Get the fuck off me!" Bakugou snarls, yanking off the boys so hard they stumble back. "And you," he stalks towards Ochako again, his fists fizzling by his sides. "You arrogant motherfucker! You think you could hold out like that on me and I wouldn't fuckin' notice? I'll show you, you bitch—"
"Kacchan," Deku's voice says. "Stop it."
Ochako blinks. Deku is suddenly standing between her and Bakugou—faster than she thought possible. One of his arms is in a sling, and his head is bandaged. He must've just gotten back from Recovery Girl after his match with Todoroki.
The interesting thing is, Kacchan actually does stop.
There is a difference between the way Bakugou looks at Deku and everyone. Bakugou looks at everyone with equal hateful fervor, but with Deku, there is something else there. Something angrier and colder than just disgust. "Playing hero again, Deku?" Bakugou says. "Maybe if you didn't lose to that hot and cold fuck I could show you what's up once and for all, huh?"
"Why don't you just try and do that here?" Deku replies.
Huh.
Deku is all beaten up from his fight—that much is clear. But the lines of Deku's back, while tense, aren't hunched. They look tough. Immovable. His voice when he speaks again is as quiet as it always is, but this time, there is a clear taunt there. "Or are you too scared, Kacchan?"
Huh, Ochako thinks. Huh.
"Oh, okay. You think you're all big and strong now, huh? Useless fuckin' Deku?" Kacchan laughs, furious. "All right, then, I'll fuckin' show you scared—"
The door slams open and a hush falls over the room as Aizawa-sensei walks in.
"That's enough," Aizawa-sensei says. Behind him are Iida and Yaoyorozu—they must've called for him. "Bakugou—come with me. Midoriya.." he pauses, looking at Deku with a cool consideration. "Are you planning to cause trouble as well? If so, feel free to come along. The both of you can show each other up in my office."
"No, sir," Deku says.
"That's what I thought. The rest of you—settle down. Everybody can hear you from the hallway, it's a disgrace." He makes for the door again. "Bakugou, now."
Bakugou walks out of the room to follow the teacher, but not before one last look at Deku—that cold, nasty look he always gives him. And then, just before the door swings shut, his gaze falls on Ochako. Ochako winks at him.
The door closes with a bang.
Ochako is in the middle of playing with her food when the nursing room door opens. "Hey," she says.
"Hey," Deku says. He still looks all banged up, worse than Ochako, even. "Can I come in? I, uh.." his good hand waves a juice box. "I got you some juice."
"Sure," Ochako says. "Come in."
Deku limps inside, sitting on the chair next to her bed. She doesn't even need to be in bed, truthfully—but Recovery Girl insisted on it, and Recovery Girl's demands are not to be refused if the student knows what's good for herself. "Here."
"Thanks," Ochako says. The juice box is cool in her hand—it's the brand she likes. "You're not watching the rest of the match?"
Bakugou should be fighting Todoroki right about now. "No."
"You're gonna miss writing notes on the fight," Ochako says. They can hear explosions from far away, the audience cheering and clapping. "It sounds pretty intense."
"No, I.." Deku shifts in his seat. "I. Wanted to see how you were doing."
Ochako blinks. "Oh," she says, picking at a piece of broccoli with her chopstick. It's gone cold, just like the rest of the plate. "That's sweet, Deku-kun." She can feel his eyes on her food. "My Quirk makes me nauseous. That's why I don't like to eat."
Deku looks away. "Sorry, I didn't mean to stare—"
"It's okay."
Beat. And then, "Is it—is it only when you use your Quirk or...?"
"All the time."
He stares at her, and then seems to understand. "Oh."
He sounds a little sad, or something. Ochako pops a straw in the juice box, smiling at him. "This fixes it all, though."
It takes him a second to realize that she's joking. He smile is small. "I'll take note of that, Uraraka-san."
Ochako glances at his arm. She saw the fight. It was fierce. Todoroki-kun was good—very good. But Deku held his own, though with a cost. If Deku's uncle is the one who teaches him how to use his Quirk, he isn't doing a good job. "You were incredible," she says kindly. "It was a good fight."
He's nowhere as expressive as Mina is. But there are subtle changes in his face—murky notes, when one expression shifts to another, with some shaky hesitance in the undertone. It makes him look incredibly genuine. Ochako doubts she'll ever be able to emulate that. "Thanks."
Ochako watches him. "Are you okay?" she says.
"Yeah, I'm fine."
Ochako hums. "Deku-kun," she says. "You're a terrible liar."
He blanches.
"It's okay," Ochako assures him. "That's not your fault. No one started out good at lying, you know."
"I…" Deku says, and nothing else.
Oh well. Might as well give him some tips. "People say you have to slip some truths in your lie so you sound like you mean it, because you would mean some of it," Ochako explains. "But that's not necessary. It doesn't matter if you mean any of it. You just have to think that you do."
He looks at her, eyes empty and not understanding. She smiles. "Like this," Ochako says, then exaggerates by taking a deep breath before she speaks again. "Deku-kun, I truly believe that you're so totally completely 100% fine that you lost a fight on national television."
He stares. She says, "Totally. I really think you aren't going to cry because you lost to Todoroki-kun. I think you really don't mind that he beat you up in five minutes and that all your efforts were for nothing. Getting your ass handed to you in front of all of Japan? No big deal."
He stares and stares. And then, abruptly, he laughs—a watery, broken sound. Ochako continues, "You must be totally okay with him taking all the glory and fighting against Bakugou-kun. It really doesn't bother you at all."
Deku keeps laughing, long and hard, his face covered in his hands. Shoulders starting to shake as his laughter shifts to tears.
Ochako waits. Deku stops after a while, finally lifting his face—eyes red and watery.
"I'm sorry," he says, voice hoarse. "Sorry, it's just—it sucks to lose, I—sorry. Sorry, Uraraka-san, I came here to see you but now I'm—"
"I get it," Ochako lies. "I get how you feel. It's normal to feel that way, you know? You don't have to be sorry." Ochako sips her juice. "With any luck, those two are gonna blow each other up to kingdom come."
Deku huffs something as close to a snort as it can get. He's always so sad. Always so quiet, even when he's laughing. Ochako never saw someone so ... pressed down. "Yeah," he says. "Probably not."
"Who do you think will win?" Ochako says, just to pass the time.
"Kacchan."
It's said quickly, without hesitation—like Deku doesn't need to even think about it. "You believe in him a lot, don't you?" Ochako says. "You really think he's the best in our class."
Deku doesn't reply for a while. "He's always been the best," Deku says, then. Soft and truthful. "But. He won't be the best forever."
Huh.
He's changed, she realizes.
…No. He didn't change. People don't change. Ochako was just wrong about him. But she isn't sure if he's more boring or more interesting than she thought.
Not yet.
"I'm sorry that he did that to you earlier."
Ochako looks up at that. Deku is looking at her in the eye for an impressive five seconds before averting his gaze. "I—I know how it feels like when he … comes at you like that," he says. "He shouldn't do that. To anyone."
Ochako considers him, saying nothing.
"I know that I'm … I'm not much of a help.." Deku says. He looks at a spot on Ochako's blanket with his big, sad eyes. "But if he ever bothers you—if anyone ever bothers you. I'll try to help, Uraraka-san. You can, um. Talk to me."
Yes. She was wrong about him.
"Why did you save me?" Ochako asks him.
Deku looks confused by the question. "Um, I mean. It wasn't right that Kacchan—"
He's getting it wrong. "Back at the entrance exam," Ochako says. "Why did you save me?"
"Oh." Deku pauses. Surprised by the clarification. "Because…" He trails, frowning. "It was—you were—"
"I was going to die," Ochako says. "But you saved me. Why?"
He stares at her. Looking at her all confused, like he still doesn't understand her question. "I don't know," he says finally. "Isn't that what you're supposed to do?"
Huh. "Wow," Ochako says. "Natural born Hero, huh?"
He blushes a little when he realizes she's making fun of him. "No, I just mean that—"
"Heroes are supposed to save people no matter what, huh?"
He goes even redder. "Please, Uraraka-san," he pleads.
She stops teasing him. She pokes her broccoli with her chopstick again. "I'm having a lot of fun at UA." She looks at him. "Are you?"
"..Yeah," he says. "I think I am."
"Threatened to get expelled," Ochako says, counting on her fingers. "Almost killed by a bunch of Villains. Blown up by a jerk in front of a live audience. All very fun stuff."
Deku huffs that almost laugh again. He's quiet for a while. And then he says, "That day.." his cheeks shine red again. "You saved me too. At the entrance exam. You saved my life."
That's right. She did do that, didn't she? "Just doing what Heroes are supposed to do, am I right?"
He recognizes the tease, the joke in it, and he laughs softly. But then he stops, hesitating a little before he speaks again. "I'm—I'm glad you did. I'm glad I'm. Here."
Ochako stares.
He's getting all embarrassed again, but he pushes through. "On the first day, you said that … you're happy we're in one class together. That meant a lot to me." He looks at her, shy, red, but honest. "I just want you to know that. I'm happy too. Here, I mean."
He is so weird.
He is so strange. So weird. The weirdest. And Ochako isn't sure if he's funny anymore—he's just … strange.
She doesn't get him, she thinks. She thought she did, she really thought so, but she was wrong about him. Completely.
Oh well.
"I'm so happy to hear that," Ochako says.
When school starts again the class is still basking in the leftover, excited buzz from the festival. Everybody has band aids and a wide grin on their faces, talking about Do you remember when we did this and that? Do you remember when this and that happened? Someone recognized me on the train, can you believe it?
Ochako isn't completely detached from reality. She understands all the excitement they are having from the glorified Quirk Pissing Contest. Getting beat up was quite an interesting experience, after all. Ochako idly presses on a yellowing bruise as Aizawa-sensei drones on and on in front of the class. The pain is a little interesting; a different kind of sensation.
Still. It wasn't the real thing, all those fights. Some of the battles were vicious, sure, but it wasn't the real thing. There was no real danger there. It was like getting on an attraction—the thrill was manufactured, and they were all wearing floaters and safety belts.
Something comes to mind. USJ. White hair, red eyes. It's you, it's you, I'm going to fucking kill you…
Now that. That was real.
Ochakos sighs. If only Kacchan would try to kill her for real. If only Kacchan could try to kill her for real. Maybe Ochako would be somewhat more excited…
…Oh.
"...For those of you who did not receive nominations," Aizawa-sensei's voice comes through, "There are forty agencies across the country to choose from. You may only choose one. Turn them in by the end of a week."
Ochako barely gives the list of agencies wanting to scout her a glance. She's flipped out her phone, typing, typing. Sent. She closes her phone, waiting, and—bingo.
From the other side of the room, Bakugou's eyes catch hers. He has his phone open in one hand and this pinched, bitchy, serious look on his face. Ochako returns it with a smile and a wiggle of her fingers. And, of course, a wink. He looks away.
By the end of the school day, they're the only two people left in the class.
After the last student is out of earshot, Bakugou says, "Where the fuck did you get my number?"
"I have my ways," Ochako says.
He scoffs. "Okay, freak," Bakugou says.
They're both still seated in their respective chairs. Ochako turns a little, so she can see his face from his corner of the class, amused by what she's seeing. For most of her life, people have always liked Ochako. This is the first time a classmate has ever looked at her with this sort of hatred. It's sort of interesting. "Fuck you want?" Bakugou says, rough. "If you wanna go torture your choice of small animals or whatever the fuck else nasty crazy shit that you do in your spare fucking time, leave me out of it."
She smiles. Gosh, he's so hilarious. More hilarious than Deku now, definitely.
When she stands up, his face changes. The expression there is not wariness, exactly—there is no caution there. Instead there is this hardening, focused look, like he's getting ready to beat her up at the drop of a hat. So funny. She sits in Deku's empty chair, right in front of Bakugou's. "You know, Kacchan," she says, just to see him get angrier. "That should be my line."
He doesn't flinch from their close proximity. "What? I'd rather blow up a baby than cut up some fuckin' insects."
She laughs, twirling her hair. "You're so funny," she says. "And tall too. Did you know that?"
"Cut the shit," he says, disgusted by whatever it is she's doing. "The fuck you want, Uraraka?"
She smiles sweetly. She leans on his desk with her elbows, watching his brows twitch. "Exactly," she says. "The fuck do you want? Or did you throw a tantrum just for the sake of throwing a tantrum?"
Pause. An understanding enters his face. He says, flatly, "Is this the moment you drop your sweet traumatized girl act and go all fuck up ballistic? Oh wait, do we need to stick a pig and dump a bucket of blood on your head first?"
Oh, Bakugou. Where has he been all her life? If only she's met him sooner, maybe she wouldn't have been so bored all the time. "Fuck up ballisitic?" she echoes. "Whatever do you mean?"
"You're a crazy psycho bitch."
Ochako blinks, and then smiles again. "Ouch," she says. "What makes you say that."
"You were the one who made that fuckin' grapeball quit, didn't you?"
Oh?
Oh.
Ochako's smile drops off her face. "What?" Ochako says. "What are you talking about?"
"Drop the act. He got paired up with you and the next day he's fuckin' gone. Finally got sick of his shit, didn't you?" He smiles at her silence—a mean thing. "What'd you do to him? You wouldn't kill him," Bakugou says. "If you have half a brain, you wouldn't—it's too obvious. But then again, who knows? You're probably such a nutcase you'd do anything you feel like in the fuckin' moment. Did you threaten him? Blackmail him? Or just waterboard the shit outta him for your fuckin' entertainment?"
Ochako stares.
"Not that I care," Bakugou says. "Good fuckin' riddance. One less good-for-nothin' shithead to worry about. But if you think you can act dumb with me, you're dead wrong. You really think I'm a fuckin' idiot?"
Ochako doesn't. Not really. She knows Bakugou is smart, and more than that, she knows Bakugou is good. Good enough that it makes sense for him to beat Ochako in a match. Good enough that it's unquestionable if she loses to him at the Sports Festival.
"I'm not stupid like the rest of this fuckin' class, Uraraka," Bakugou says, looking straight into her eyes with that cold, red gaze. "No. They think you're such a goody fuckin' two shoes, but I see you as the psycho bitch you actually are. Because that's exactly what you are."
For a moment, silence fills the empty class. Then Ochako says, slowly and softly, "That's not very nice, Bakugou-kun." Her face twists, her bottom lip trembling. "How ... How could you say that to me?"
Bakugou blinks, momentary confusion colors his face as he watches Ochako's eyes tear up. When Ochako starts to sob, that confusion disappears and Bakugou rolls his eyes, throwing his hands in the air. "Oh, come on!" Bakugou says viciously, but Ochako has only just begun.
"I've been nothing but nice to you, Bakugou-kun," Ochako hiccups. Her tears fall on Bakugou's desk, one droplet after another. "But you keep saying all these messed up things about me—what did I ever do to make you h-hate me so much?"
Bakugou stands up so quickly his chair falls over. "Stop it," Bakugou hisses, slamming his hands to the desk. It smokes a little from his Quirk. "Stop that."
Ochako stands up too, matching his energy. They glare at each other—Ochako looks into his eyes through the tears clouding her vision. "Bakugou-kun, please!" Ochako cries, midway to hysterics. "I—I—" Ochako covers her face, her voice breaking, shoulders shaking. "Don't you u-understand? I've—I've never told anyone this, I've … never felt like this with anyone, but … ever since I saw you…"
That same confusion flashes across Bakugou's face again just for a second, mixing with the ugly anger. "Shut up, I swear to fucking god, Uraraka—"
She is not shutting up. She is not gonna let him stop her from saying her true feelings. "I've never felt anything like this before—ever!" she gasps out. "But you, Bakugou-kun, you—every time I look at you … every time you look at me…"
He seems speechless. "What the fu—"
"Bakugou-kun," Ochako says tearfully. "I think—I think I have feelings for you."
Stunned silence follows Ochako's heartfelt declaration. "Don't you see," Ochako says, desperate, so desperate for him to understand. "Everything I did—every word I said, every look I gave—I did them all because .. because I want you to notice me. I want you to see me for who I truly am. Don't you see?" She wipes her eyes furiously with the sleeves of her blazer. "But—but now I know … that you think I'm such a—a horrible p-person, and, and I just…" she buries her head in her hands once more. "It just hurts so much I could di-ie."
Seconds pass. Between her fingers, Ochako manages to see the funniest expression on Bakugou Katsuki's face that she has ever seen on any human being on the planet in her fifteen years of life.
She can't help it. Ochako throws her head back and laughs.
She laughs long and hard. Beyond the tears, Bakugou has lost that funny expression from before and is now back to the standard hateful expression he has always thrown in her direction. He takes a long look at her, filled with all that hate, as he watches her laugh herself sick. "You bitch…" he says, slow and grinding. "You fuckin' bitch."
Her mirth finally dissipates, and she looks at him calmly. "Misogynist much?" she says, wiping her tears away. "Not a good look for an upcoming Pro-Hero, Bakugou-kun."
"Rich coming from a fuckin' headcase," Bakugou snaps back, and oh. Oh. Ochako smiles. This is such a special moment for her. He doesn't even know it, but Ochako treasures this moment as much as she is able to treasure anything. Which is not much at all, admittedly. But the sentiment counts.
See, the thing is ... Ochako has never been made before.
Throughout the years, there have been people who looked at her and saw her for what she was, yes—there have been people who saw that lackness in her. But never without Ochako wanting them to see her that way.
This time, though—Bakugou caught her. I see you as the psycho bitch you actually are. He sees her; really sees her.
Ochako smiles. She looks at Bakugou Katsuki and she feels that something again, the thing that she felt when Midoriya Izuku almost died just to save her at that exam. She feels that elation. A lightness in the pit of her chest. Something that could be affection, or love, if only she is capable of feeling anything remotely like it.
This is the most exciting day of her life yet.
"So," Ochako says, all trace of tears having disappeared. "What do you want, Kacchan?"
Bakugou doesn't miss a beat this time. "I want a fuckin' rematch," he says, flat. "No holding back. If you underestimate me again, I'll kill you. "
"Promise?"
He makes another disgusted face. "You crazy fuckin' bitch."
Ochako grins. How cute. She walks back to her chair to pick up her backpack. "C'mon. I know a spot."
They leave the school together.
Bakugou doesn't talk to her the whole journey, but he follows her obediently and without question. They stand next to each other on the train, dead silent, as the people around them go on about their day. Some passengers recognize them—telling them how good their fight was. Ochako just smiles and nods, Bakugou scoffs and says nothing.
After half an hour on the train, they arrive at Chinatown station. Bakugou still doesn't question her when she walks for fifteen more minutes, bringing him through the less savory parts of the city, and finally, a burnt-down building at the corner of a quiet street.
The building has been there for years, unrenovated. There are still police lines covering the entrance, battered, their yellow color having faded away a long time ago. Ochako ducks under them to enter the building and Bakugou follows.
This place used to be a factory. The remains of the structures are still there, either blackened or painted over with graffiti. They walk through the broken down halls and machineries until they reach the center of the place, which is what used to be an open space for workers' cafeteria. Grass and vines have overgrown the thing, nature beating man-made disaster.
Ochako puts down her bag at a spot on the broken down floor before taking off her blazer, draping it on top of her bag. Bakugou does the same. They look at each other, standing across in that open space. Bakugou sizing her up. Ochako smiling. "Winner gets ice cream?" Ochako says.
"Fuck you," Bakugou says.
He keeps a distance, just like how he did back at the tournament, because Ochako, as everybody well knows, would need to go melee to use her Quirk on him. Technicalities. As far as they know, anyway.
Bakugou attacks without a preamble. There is a familiar, deafening bang, and the scent of caramel is immediate in the air. But the fire never reaches Ochako. Instead Bakugou's flame shimmers, its orange hue shifting to soft indigo as it curls into a beautiful curve—something only possible in zero gravity. This phenomenon lasts for a quick second before the fire dissipates entirely, unable to light without any reactant in the space it occupies.
There is a split second where Bakugou stares in surprise at the unforeseen malfunction of his Quirk. And then he falls to his knees so he can choke on empty air.
Ochako watches him gasp, writhing, attempting to reach for O2 that'll never come—at least for a while. "Gh—" his face is pale, veins popping, but his eyes are on her—shocked and terrorized and furious. "Ugh—f-fu-ck—"
Ochako says nothing, just watching him as he struggles to live. Seconds pass. And then a minute. She waits, patient. But Bakugou, she sees, doesn't manage to get up or try to kill her. He just lies there, spasming and dying. He can't kill her. He can't fight against her Quirk.
It's not a surprise, of course. But it's still disappointing nonetheless.
Ochako reins back her Quirk once Bakugou starts to look a little blue. Able to breathe again, he coughs and wheezes, still curled up on the ground. Ochako waits until he's done, until he's gone a little still, panting and grasping at his own lungs. "You should drink some water," Ochako informs him helpfully. "It helps a lot."
"…Fuck you," Bakugou says when he manages to speak again, his voice painfully hoarse. He half-crawls until he can stand, his legs wobbly. Ochako watches with some amusement as he reaches for his backpack and takes out a water bottle, gulping down harshly, getting some oxygen into his brain.
"Feel better?" Ochako says sweetly.
Bakugou is still panting, but his pallor has turned to normal. He wipes his mouth, looks at her. "You're such a fuckin' asshole," he says, and she smiles wider.
"Aw, don't be a sore loser."
He doesn't snap at that, surprisingly. He drinks more water, finishing his bottle, and when he does he just says: "You didn't give a shit about the festival."
Ochako blinks.
His gaze is clinical, piercing. "You undo the gravity of everything you touch—including the fucking atmosphere. You could've won the festival right off the bat," he says flatly. "But you didn't. Because you didn't give a shit about the festival. Why would you? When you can suffocate everyone to death in a mile radius if you fuckin' want. It's all just child fucking play to you, is that it?"
Those red eyes are searching her face. "Is that why you're here?" he says. "In UA? Just to fuck around?"
Ochako just looks at him. "So what?" she says.
In the next second he has her pushed to the ground, fists ablaze just inches from her face, his weight pinning her down—
Ochako does nothing. She lets herself be held down, watching him rage. His eyes are furious, almost even murderous. "Fight back, damn it, you arrogant son of a bitch," he says, the heat of his Quirk a threat stinging on her skin. If he hits her she'd be lucky to get away with a lifetime scarring. "You can kill me. You can beat me, stop fucking around with me."
Behind him she can see the blue sky. The weather is great again today—not too hot. Underneath her the ground is hard and cold and she can hear the humming of everything that intertwines into the framework that is the world. Nibbling at her skin, as it always is. The push and pull.
"That's my line, Bakugou-kun," Ochako says calmly. "You promised, didn't you?"
Something flashes across his face at her sentence. And then just like that, he gets off of her. His face is twisted with that now-familiar disgust. "Ugh," he spits. "Psychopathic fucks like you piss me the fuck off."
Ochako glances at the sky again. It's still evening, the sun won't set for a few hours yet. Someone might have heard the boom of Bakugou's Quirk—though she doubts people in this neighborhood would call the cops unless the building catches fire again. She gets up, patting dust and grass off her skirt. "We should leave," she says, walking to the spot where she had put her backpac—
Huh.
She looks at her backpack for a second before picking it up, slinging it over her shoulders. Ochako turns back to look at Bakugou and adds, hopefully, "Unless you want a round two?"
"Shut up," Bakugou says. His legs appear to still be a little shaky, and he seems annoyed at the fact. He puts back his empty water bottle, slings his own backpack across his shoulder. "Don't get cocky, Uraraka. I'll fuckin' beat you one day," he says. "I'll make you fight me, and then I'll beat you. Just so you watch. You and Deku and All Might—just so all of you fuckin' watch, I'll fuckin' beat you one day."
How adorable. She smiles. "Promise?" Ochako says.
"Crazy bitch," he says.
They walk out of the building in the same stoic silence in which they entered it. The street is a little more filled in now, mostly with men sitting on the sidewalks watching them as they pass by. One or two whistles at Ochako, calling her names. Ochako doesn't give a shit and neither does Bakugou, walking without pausing or acknowledging any of it.
After a few blocks, Bakugou stops abruptly in front of a convenience store. The door jingles when he opens it. He glances at her with some annoyance when she doesn't follow him right away, just staring at him from the sidewalk. "Come inside." He nods at the street. "No way in hell I'm having the cops on me if you kill one of those shitheads."
Ochako follows him inside. Bakugou walks with purpose, off to find whatever it is he wants to buy. Ochako lingers near the cashier, wondering if she should nick anything just for the hell of it. Her attention moves to the TV hung on the wall, its volume low but audible. Breaking news. "The Villain responsible for UA terrorist attack has escaped Tartarus—Heroes dispatched on the scene—twenty casualties and rising—"
"Take the change," Bakugou tells the cashier. He walks out immediately, this time barely glancing to check if Ochako is following him. But once they're outside, he tosses something to Ochako. "Here's your shit."
She catches it by reflex, glancing down. It's an ice cream cornetto. Strawberry flavored, still sealed in its packet. She looks up at him but Bakugou already continues walking in silence on the sidewalk.
She walks behind him, idly unwrapping the cornetto all the while. Ochako doesn't like ice cream, just like how she doesn't like food in general, but she takes a small bite. Too sweet.
Bakugou stops abruptly once again at an intersection. "I'm going this way," Bakugou tells her, nodding in direction. "If you dismember anybody, I'm not fuckin' involved." With that, he starts to walk away.
So funny. So funny.
"Bakugou-kun," Ochako calls out to his back. "Why do you want to be a Hero?"
For a moment she thinks he's not going to answer, but then he glances at her, rolling his eyes. "So I can be the fuckin' best," he says as if it's the most obvious thing in the world. "Fuck kinda question is that?" and then he leaves.
Ochako walks in the opposite direction, and—for the first time in a very long time—eats the ice cream until nothing is left.
She throws it up after, of course, but it's the sentiment that counts.
Ochako has expected the Hero internship to be at least some kind of fun. Perhaps that Hero Killer will show up in some random alley and try to slash some interns, hopefully with Ochako included. Wouldn't that be something?
She is proven wrong so far, however. The internship has been quite a non-incident.
The Battle Hero Gunhead has her train and train. Ochako had picked him at random but he seems to be taking Ochako's internship seriously, having her participate in various hand-to-hand combat exercises, and going out on patrols. It's a funny thing, patrolling. They walk around in costume and have people take selfies with them so that they feel safe. Should they stumble upon any knife-slashing maniac, they'd spur into action. But there is no knife-slashing maniac, meaning Ochako is feeling so bored she is considering becoming that very knife-slashing maniac.
So when she receives that weird text message from Deku, Ochako immediately tells the Pro-Hero Gunhead that her special time of the month has specially arrived unexpectedly for no special reason so can she please be excused to get herself some special little packets that one would need at these trying times? And also can she please just excuse herself in general, please. Because her tummy hurts and everything, and she's suddenly having a horrendous urge to cry and eat chocolate or whatever it is people do on their periods, please.
Once she is honorably discharged, Ochako is on the move. She looks at Deku's text again—it only says his location and nothing else. Could he be in trouble? Could he be facing some enemy?
Maybe even a Villain?
Maybe even the infamous Hero Killer?
How exciting. How—
"Oops, sorry!"
"That's okay," Ochako says, and the girl who'd bumped into her shoots her a bright smile. Ochako sees her entering a Seven-Eleven from her periphery before she looks at her phone again.
Maybe Deku just pressed the wrong button, which would be hilarious too. Oh well. She's missed this, anyway—ditching classes. She hasn't been doing that much since she came to UA.
Let's see, Ochako thinks, scrounging for her train card. Deku-kun is at Hosu, so if she takes the train to the blue line and switch to the—
Ochako stops walking.
She turns back.
She finds the girl still inside the Seven-Eleven, sitting in one of those seats behind the glass window facing the street. When she sees Ochako, the girl smiles, and wiggles her fingers in a wave. And then she winks.
Ochako enters the store.
The girl isn't eating anything, but she seems to have gotten herself some mints which she is currently arranging into shapes on the table. The mins turn into a house. A hiragana. A heart. "Hi," the girl says cheerfully when Ochako sits next to her.
"Hi," Ochako says just as cheerfully. "Will you give me back my wallet please?"
Beyond the glass window people are walking past, living their lives. It's a gorgeous day out as it has always been this past week; not too hot, not too cold. In lunch hour, people are filling out cafeterias across the street and strolling around with their groceries and pets.
"Mm," the girl hums contemplatively, like she's really thinking about it. "No."
"Okay," Ochako says. "How about my lip balm and my UA blazer then?"
The girl stops rearranging her mints. She turns in her seat to look up at Ochako, her chin resting on her elbows. And then she smiles. It's a bright smile, showing a row of pearly canines. "I love that lipbalm," she says, a drawl. Her voice is high, feminine. Her eyes are cat-gold. "It's a nice color."
Ochako's eyes flick to the girl's lip, a soft pink. "It looks good on you," Ochako says nicely.
"Aw, thanks."
Ochako smiles. "Of course. So. Can you return my belongings please?"
"Mm," the girl hums, one of her fingers playing around with those mints scattered on the plastic table. "That depends."
"On?"
She taps a finger on her lips. "On what you're giving me in return."
Ochako's smile stays on her face. "You stole from me," she reminds the girl, her words slow and patient, as if explaining the concept of theft to someone who is hearing it for the first time. "You took from me. You should be giving those things back. That's how it works."
"You didn't give those keychains back, though," the girl says.
Ochako stares.
"Or those juice boxes," the girl continues. "And the lip balm ... You stole it too, didn't you?" she grins. "I can tell. You're just like me."
Ah. Ochako understands now.
Ochako is dealing with a crazy stalker bitch.
That's fine. Some people are just born that way. It's not this girl's fault that she is a crazy stalker bitch. "I don't know what you're talking about," Ochako says, smiling still. "It's not nice to follow people around, you know. And getting into their businesses. It can get you in trouble."
The girl shrugs. "Maybe I like trouble," she says, with that canine grin. "Do you?"
"I don't like anything," Ochako says.
The girl considers Ochako's answer. "That's weird," she says then ponderingly, those strange eyes picking apart Ochako's expression. "If you don't like anything, what do you even live for?"
Ochako's smile is stuck on her face like a plaster. "Live for?" she echoes.
The girl stares at her for a moment. And then she breaks into another brilliant smile, impossibly brighter and wider than the last. "Oh, I know. Why don't we have some fun? And then we can find out what you like. How about that?"
Ochako ignores the crazy stalker bitch's nonsensical words. "I want my things back."
The girl pouts. "And I said you need to give me something in return," she says, sounding petulant.
"Okay," Ochako says, wondering if she should just kill this girl and be done with it. "What is that?"
"Well, I wanted you to give me some of your blood," Toga Himiko says. "But now I'm thinking why don't we go have some fun first, and then you can give me some of your blood? It's gonna be so much fun, I promise," she smiles that sweet, brilliant smile once again. "I know some real fun spots in town, y'know?"
