In the cold dying embers of night, at a time so late that it was technically the next day for those insane early bird types, a corpse in costume fell bodily into the bed of Ochako Uraraka.
It groaned heartily as it hit the springy mattress and bounced once, twice, before settling into a gooey pile of bonewary exhaustion mixed with anxiety.
A smattering of sunlight just about breaking the horizon chose that very moment to be a huge pain in the ass and slithered its way through the threadbare curtains of her bedroom, landing squarely on Urarakas face. She'd have growled and flipped over if she'd had the energy. Instead, she slung one battle scarred arm across her screwed shut eyes and prayed a passing cloud might grant her mercy.
Escorting her six temporary charges to the hospital had taken longer than she'd anticipated, mostly due to the fact that all of them flatout refused to be in a room that didn't have her in it. It took almost 30 minutes to calm them down when she announced she was leaving, and even then they'd only relented when she promised to come check on them in a few days. She didn't blame the girls really, it wasn't like they had any family coming for them. In fact, it was possible that Uraraka and… that guy were the only adults to have shown them any kindness for a long time. She wasn't well versed in the Japanese orphanage system but she'd heard mixed things.
As for the police debriefing, the girls had done surprisingly well, all things considered. The officers had been kind with their questions, Uraraka made sure of that, but still, she couldn't imagine having to dredge up the terrors they had been subjected to for the second time in as many hours.
After a quick word with the officers handling the case and making sure the doctors and nurses wouldn't separate the victims, Uraraka took her leave with a hasty goodbye and a promise to return. As she had tried to leave, the oldest girl had latched onto her with a bear hug so fierce it was a wonder it came from a person so small. She'd smiled motherly at the girl and assured her that her thanks were welcome but unnecessary.
Then, as the hero had turned to go once more, one of the younger girls called out a hasty request that had made Urarakas smile falter just a fraction.
"Please thank Mr. Rabbit for us as well, Ms. Uravity,"
Jackrabbit. The vigilante was a mystery that was for sure.
If she'd been asked a few days ago what she thought of him, she would have said he was a jumped up lunatic, no question. Now though, a war of confliction raged within her over the masked man. He was still an irritating little bastard, there was no doubt about that, and he was definitely violent, but then again, so was she. Isn't that what all heroes were after all? A monopoly on violence in the interest of peace? Regardless of her biases, she couldn't get the way the vigilante had so kindly treated those girls out of her head. That wasn't even mentioning the moment of almost vulnerability he'd displayed to her on that rooftop.
He'd claimed he was never given the chance to be a hero and Uraraka was beginning to believe it, if only in acknowledging the idea as possible. She wasn't happy about it but she had to admit, there was likely a reason that a man with his skill wasn't a pro hero. Whatever that reason was, his temperamental actions proved that it wasn't a simple one.
The unhealthy cocktail of emotions Uraraka had experienced over the past few hours had left her a wreck but her body was past the point of caring.
Outside her tiny apartment window, the morning was rearing its ugly head. Birds sang, commuters commuted, and somewhere, buried beneath it all, growing like an ugly mold, Razor was festering. The blade armed villain was no doubt cooped up in some dank hole, licking his wounds as he plotted: an unwatched pot of simmering resentment. At least, he thought he was unwatched. Unbeknownst to him, a tiny metal bug ratted out his location. Urarakas fragile mind mustered the wisp of energy necessary to smile, humourlessly. If she'd been fully lucid, she might not have been able to ignore the fact that Jackrabbit was the one with the tracker and not her agency.
At least satisfied that the girls were in good hands for the time being, Uraraka drifted in and out of consciousness. She caught glimpses of troubled dreams filled with the frightened faces of children, huddled timidly behind a towering and grotesque bunny rabbit. But even that wasn't enough to stave off the siren's call of blissful oblivion for too long. Only one thing was clear in her cloudy, conflicted, and desperate-for-sleep mind: nothing, not even an explosion, would have any chance of waking her up for the rest of the morning.
BeeeeepBeeeeepBeeeeep
Except for her ringtone, apparently.
Blindly she fumbled at her nightstand, knocking down her cheerful All Might lamp in her flailing. She cursed as the wired light brought her phone down along for the ride, sending the pink plastic box careening into the abyss that was the space between a bed and a side table. Only one of her eyes seemed to be working as the other had apparently been concreted shut by sleep during her brief nap. The tinny noise of her ringtone guided her fingertips to the offending object and with a grunt she pulled it free allowing her to blearily stare at the caller ID of the bastard who'd ruined her sleep. The words 'Boss Lady' followed by a low quality dragon emoji stared back.
Uraraka's hand shot the phone to her ear and accepted the call, while she desperately clawed at her vocal cords to start working.
"Huhuu," she managed.
A melodious chuckle was her answer, followed by the silky voice of her boss, Ryukyu. "Late night. Uravity?"
Uraraka cleared her throat and winced when it felt like sandpaper. She stumbled out of bed, with the phone wedged between her ear and shoulder, beginning her hunt for a glass of water. "Sorry Ma'am I thought you said you'd call at 8?" She asked.
"It is 8."
Uraraka froze in her search, stunned. Had she really been asleep for 3 hours? It'd barely felt like 3 minutes. "Oh…" she said, weakly.
Ryukyu laughed again. "I did warn you. Tell me everything, Uravity. The police are telling me they've got seven men in custody on charges of illegal possession of a firearm and six young girls in the hospital asking when you or Mr. Rabbit will be back. What happened?"
Uraraka sighed and took a long gulp of water. When she'd finished she said, "You can add human trafficking to their charge sheets, for starters."
Ryukyu cursed. "Are you certain?"
"Positive. I pulled those girls out myself. Well… me and…" she let the sentence hang unfinished in the air, working herself up to it.
But Ryukyu was the number 7 pro for a reason. "Jackrabbit," she said simply. Her tone was calm, unwavering, but Uraraka knew she wasn't best pleased.
"Jackrabbit," she confirmed.
After a moment's silence, Ryukyu sighed. Uraraka could picture her boss pinching the bridge of her delicate nose, the same way she always did. Soon, she'd start rubbing her temples and murmuring something about coffee, too. "Alright, start from the beginning," the dragoon hero said.
And so she did. Before she even knew what she was going to say, her mouth opened without the input of her brain and everything about the night before came rushing out. She spoke of the heart stopping note that had started the whole thing, the moral confusion she'd felt upon laying eyes on the glossy images Jackrabbit had shown her and the brief but violent encounter they'd had with the gang's leader. Razor's ominous boast was perhaps the most important thing, so Uraraka made sure to impress upon her boss that she'd taken the warning seriously and that it was unlikely to be simply hot air or a spiteful last shot.
She left out her warring emotions over the vigilante himself but didn't hesitate to mention the tracker he had placed on the lead thug.
"So you know where this 'Razor' is right now?" Ryukyu asked after several seconds of processing silence.
Uraraka cringed, then hesitated with a stuttering sigh."...No. Jackrabbit has the tracker," she said, quietly.
"That's concerning, Uravity, I won't lie but…" the dragoon hero trailed off, considering her best course of action. "For some reason, he trusts you and only you. We can use that." The sound of shuffling papers and the sharp clack of a mechanical keyboard filled the spaces between Ryukyus words. "Get in contact with him, if you can, ask him to let you help with whatever he's planning. I don't want him running around without supervision on this. He may have been on the right side last night but we have no idea if and when that may change."
Uraraka bit her lip, refraining from voicing her opinion on that matter. Something told her that Jackrabbit wouldn't side with Razor even if his life depended on it.
"Besides, with you there, we can arrest these traffickers semi-legitimately," Ryukyu continued. "I'll have to call in some favors with the detectives but we can make it work."
While she was certainly dreading having to put up with the vigilante and his nonsense again, Uraraka had to concede that Ryukyu was right. Jackrabbit had a strange fixation with her and the fact that he'd sought her out with assistance had to mean he trusted her in some capacity. What bothered her was that she didn't know his reasons why. Why her? Yes, she was up and coming, and the traffickers were operating well within the Ryukyu agency territory, but surely those things meant little to one like Jackrabbit. So the question remained, what made her special?
Uraraka shook her head rapidly. No, she couldn't worry too much about that now. Whatever Jackrabbit had conjured up to justify if seemingly random choice didn't matter, not when there were potentially more victims out there. She firmed her resolve. "Yes Ma'am, " she replied, jaw set.
"Good, but Uravity?" Uraraka froze, she knew what was coming. "The next time something like this happens, I expect a courtesy call. You've got a bright future ahead of you but, as of right now, you're my sidekick, so keep me in the loop, understood?" Ryukyus tone was firm but level. "That being said… Good work. Those girls were dangerously close to falling through the cracks but thanks to you, they're safe. You're a fine hero Uravity," she finished, the pride in her voice, evident.
Uraraka tried not to tear up but her croaked, "Thank you, Ma'am," was a little watery.
A smile tinged Ryukyus next words but she was gracious enough not to draw attention to Urarakas tears. "Now get back to bed, I'll see you tomorrow morning. We'll go over your report then," Uraraka sagged to the floor in relief. Ryukyu was giving her the day off, it seemed.
Ryukyu's goodbyes were terse as usual but Uraraka could feel the heart in them. When the line died, Uraraka stared blankly into space and let her exhaustion take hold once more. Her arm dropped and she barely had enough time to feebly place her phone on the kitchen counter before the loose grip she'd had, finally gave out. Downing a last glass of nectarous water, she stumbled back towards her bedroom, before giving silent thanks to whatever greater power had allowed her this reprieve. In the serenity of her own space, free from heroes and vigilantes, she entangled herself in the threadbare white cotton of her bedsheets and knew no more.
It was light when she awoke.
The hot midday sun proved too much for Urarakas cheap curtains and light spilled into the cramped room in waves, making the already stuffy air almost unbearable. Her loyal room fan was silent, as she hadn't the energy to turn it on before collapsing that morning and now she was seriously regretting it. Not that the borderline antique thing would have done much, it barely moved air faster than she would flapping her hands. But the heat wasn't what had stolen her from blissful oblivion, oh no. It was something much worse. High above the background noise of her apartment, once again disturbing her hard won rest, her ringtone howled its melody from her kitchen counter where she'd left it.
With a growl, she stomped her way to the offending piece of plastic and wrenched the damn thing off the counter, swearing bloody vengeance on whoever had decided calling her was a good idea.
She glanced down at the pixelated display and blinked rapidly however, suddenly believing her sleep-addled brain to be playing tricks on her. It was Ryukyu agency policy for all sidekicks to give their phone numbers to the support staff in case of emergency but even still, this particular man hadn't once used her number. Her fuzzy neurons were crossing a hundred wires and a hundred thoughts as she read and re-read the words 'Midoriya Izuku', all the while she did an admirable job at ignoring her erratic heartbeat.
Her anger, mostly dissipated, she opened the flip phone for the second time that morning and placed it tentatively to her ear. She held her breath, unwilling to speak first.
"Ochako?" A quiet and nervous voice called. He sounded concerned about something and whatever it was was obviously important enough to warrant a phone call.
"Izuku? Is everything okay?" She asked. Sleeping for a few more hours had taken the edge off, but the lingering vines of exhaustion still wrapped around her were only fully loosening in the face of a potential emergency. She was already in costume; she'd just need her other bits of gear.
A loud sigh of relief from the man on the phone stopped her halfway back to her room where her helmet and boots lay. "Everything's fine, Ocahko, I-I just wanted to make sure you were alright," he gave a weak laugh. "Ryukyu showed me the report you wrote last night, were you hurt at all?" He asked, softly.
Uraraka's heart did a little flip and then told her she was an idiot for worrying so much. She should have remembered that Izuku was just that type of guy. Sweet and caring and innocent and cut- NOT THE TIME!
"You're sweet for worrying Izuku but… I'm okay I promise," Uraraka clutched her hand tight in a ball against her chest, willing her errant pulse to calm. "Just who'd ya think you're talking to here?!" She boasted with an awkward chuckle and more energy than she was truly feeling. What was she doing making lame jokes for? He was worried about her. And why was she so nervous about it?
Luckily Izuku was just as awkward as she was. "Oh o-of course! Sorry, sometimes I just overthink things. You probably see stuff like that all the time being a pro and all. It was stupid of me to worry," he finished lamely.
For a moment, Uraraka zoned out, images of six frightened girls huddled in a corner and afraid of even doctors. No, even she didn't see stuff like that all the time. " Well I wouldn't say that…" she mumbled. She wasn't one to admit to weakness often but something about Izuku made her want to allow this little vulnerability. She fiddled with the loose edges of her costume where Razor had almost skewered her, while Izuku was apparently worried again.
"Did you wanna t-talk about it?" He asked.
Her immediate instinct was to say no. This was the sort of thing she could only really share with her fellow heroes, with those who'd seen the horrors mankind was capable of and still chose to fight for it. It felt cruel to single him out but Izuku couldn't, shouldn't, understand. Not as a civilian. Then Jackrabbit's words from the night before came screaming out at her from the darkness of her memory. Not all of us get that chance.
Was that true for Izuku too? Uraraka knew better than most that the soul of a hero dwelled within Midoriya Izuku, she'd seen it. He worked tirelessly, day and night, at the agency and Ryukyu was always quick to praise him for his analytical work during investigations. Did his circumstances in life, the fact that he was quirkless, make him any less of a hero than her? It was possible that, without even realizing, she'd put herself and her fellow pros on a pedestal.
"I…just…It was a lot to take in y'know? Those girls were so young," she said. Her voice was barely a whisper and, for a moment, she thought he might not have heard her.
"You're a very kind person Ochako, so I think things like that are just harder on you than others. I'm not saying that you should stop letting it bother you or anything like that because that's what makes you such a great hero. You care. You should remember though, they all get to grow up and live their lives now, because of you," Izuku said.
He spoke with such passion, such apparent resolve in her character that she almost teared up all over again. He really was one of the kindest people she'd ever known, sweet to a fault. Not only that but she'd never heard his voice so firm before. In fact, it was probably the longest she'd ever heard him speak without stumbling over his words one way or another. It threw her off balance.
"Ochako?"
Which is probably why her wandering brain was able to cobble together a complete sentence the likes of which she never would have thought up if fully cognizant.
"Do ya wanna get lunch with me?"
"What?"
"Huh?"
It perhaps wasn't the most elegant response to his confusion, but regardless she pressed on, glancing quickly at the old school analog clock hanging next to her fridge. 12:40. Perfect. "I mean…" Uraraka took a deep breath. "Have you had lunch yet? If not, do ya wanna meet… me… somewhere? My treat," she finished with another awkward laugh. Man, she'd done that a lot while talking to him. Over the line, she could practically hear the sizzling warmth rising from his face, much the same way that it rose from hers.
"I-I uhh I'd lo- I mean! Uhh…like that! I'd like that, Ochako. Di-Did you have anywhere in m-mind?"
She couldn't help herself, she giggled at his awkward fumbling and soon enough she couldn't stop. He really was adorable.
And that was why, a little over 20 minutes later she sat across a table from Izuku at a quaint, street corner coffee house, both of their faces aglow with crimson heat. The oft timid man moved mechanically, in fits and starts, picking up his ordered drink and taking a shaking sip while his blank eyes rolled around, endlessly darting from this and that, at anything other than her face. The saucer rattled as he set down his cup.
"Izuku?"
He jolted, sitting up so rigid, his spine almost shot through the roof. "Y-Yes!?"
"You're shaking. You okay?" Uraraka was concerned. She felt pretty highly strung herself but she was obviously in the presence of a pro. Izuku was clearly a professional overthinker.
He vibrated on the spot, before taking a steadying breath and running a strangely discolored looking hand through his verdant hair. Looking down at his half drunk coffee, he smiled softly and swirled the remains of the drink around with the wooden stirrer. "Sorry. I came to make sure you were all okay but you ended up more worried about me. Pros sure are amazing," he huffed a laugh and shook his head to rid himself of the cobwebs fogging his brain. "I'm okay Ochako, just a little jittery. I don't really do this that often." Before she could ask him what he meant by 'this', he brushed it aside and moved on. "I read through your report but I'd like to hear about it from you, if you feel up to it. I know things like that can be painful…" he finished, trailing off to give her another time to decide whether or not she wanted to talk about it.
Uraraka was lost in thought. To her left out on the street, a little girl, just about the age of the youngest of those she'd found last night, swung excitedly from the arm of her father. The pair were laughing, while off to the side, a woman who shared the girls auburn hair looked on in absolute affection. Urarakas eyes glazed over a little, unbidden tears misting her view.
"Those girls had no family," she said, bluntly. Her tone was level, as if she were simply commenting on the weather, and as she followed the little family with her eyes as they rounded a corner out of sight, she wiped the stray tears from her face with a flick of her fingers.
From her periphery, she could see Izuku's shoulders drop, his head along with them. Without looking up, he spoke. "Do you know what's going to happen to them?" He was quite, barely audible above the hustle and bustle of the patrons around them. When Uraraka didn't answer him, he looked up, dreading to see the look of helplessness uncommon to a woman of action like herself. This was on the things she couldn't do anything about, after all. She'd played her role, rescuing the victims from an extraordinary evil but now, the girls had to face the more sinister horrors of the mundane, something that Uraraka could not shield them from.
However, when he leveled his gaze to meet Uraraka's own, instead of the hapless look of a person with power suddenly without, Izuku was met with fire. Uraraka stared back at him with a ferocity the likes of which he had never seen and he was rooted to his seat. She was beautiful.
"I don't know, but they're under my protection now. Nothing bad's gonna happen to them again," she proclaimed, with finality.
Izuku looked shocked for a moment, his eyes wide and mouth slightly ajar but then, a softness touched the edges of his look and he smiled fondly. "I meant what I said over the phone Ochako, you're a good person," he said. His face was still warm, tinted red with a lifetime of jittery nervousness, but he held her gaze.
Uraraka returned his smile and with it she could feel the weight of her own bashfulness melt away under his kind green eyes and sunshine words. For the first time since they'd sat down, she felt at ease, he just had the sort of effect on her. He was…comforting, and maybe that was the real reason she'd asked him to lunch, she knew that he had this uncanny ability to calm her. Well, after she'd gotten over the initial vertigo of having invited a guy out on what was essentially a date, at any rate.
From then on things just became, well, easier. After the initial barrage of awkwardness, brushed aside by Izuku's kind words and her own determination, Uraraka found that they could talk about everything and nothing at all, laugh like old friends and share in comfortable silences while they sipped at their drinks. It was nice, and more than that, it was exactly what she'd needed. Despite her bold claims at declaring herself the protector of the girls she'd rescued, the lingering doubts about her ability to do so combined with the nauseating thought that there were a lot more out there, yet to be found, was daunting. If she'd stayed at home bundled into a ball of blankets as tradition on her days off, it may have been too much. With Izuku, the thoughts were chased away into the dark corners of her mind by sunshine and laughter. It wouldn't last but for now, it was enough.
"So tell me more about the general course! We didn't really interact with any of you guys much. Well, apart from the times that Shinso guy kept coming around to piss Bakugo off," Uraraka giggled, remembering the blue haired student's attempts at using his quirk on her prickly classmate. What had always made her laugh was the fact that it worked just as often as it didn't, and seeing the loud and proud Bakugo atypically silent whenever Shinso was near was always amusing.
Izuku chuckled and rubbed his cheek. "Yeah, Shinsos was always a bit short tempered when it came to the hero course and he wasn't the biggest fan of Ka-Bakugo," he said, before quickly following up with. "I mean! He's amazing! I'm still friends with him now but he always wanted to be a hero and it didn't work out for him. It was sorta like that for all of us," he smiled a little sadly but seemed to think better of his words. His eyes widened and he waved his arms around frantically in front of himself. "Ahh! I didn't mean that I didn't like your class! I always thought you all were really cool and I'm glad I got to work with you especially!" He squeaked.
Uraraka gently touched his flailing hand and Izuku froze as if encased in ice. Woodenly, he opened and closed his mouth, uselessly working his jaw with no sound escaping, while red rose from his neck to his hairline.
Uraraka smiled softly. "I get it Izuku, you just wanted to save people too right? I…I guess I only just realized that not everyone got the opportunity to try and become a pro like I did," she said. "But… I think people can be heroes without necessarily being heroes y'know? The things you do, and the police and doctors and even something as simple as being a good Mom or Dad, don't ya think people like that are heroes too?" She met his eye. Izuku blinked several times in shock but then smiled so brightly that Uraraka almost had to look away.
"Well, I'm not sure I'd call myself a hero but you're absolutely right, Ochako. I think there are heroes everywhere you look, it's part of the reason I tried for the general course in the first place. Someone made me realize that heroics can take many forms," he said.
Uraraka gave a self-conscious little laugh. "It's kinda embarrassing. You knew that back before even highschool and here I am just now learning it," she said, while in the back of her mind thinking, More like having the idea beating over your head.
Izuku's laugh washed over her like honey. "Well I can't take credit for that. It took someone pretty amazing to teach it to me so don't be so hard on yourself," he smiled and Urarakas heart apparently missed the memo on keeping a steady pace.
In the distance of her perception, beyond much more important things like Izuku's strong jaw and dimpled cheeks, Uraraka was vaguely aware of a slight squeezing sensation on her hand. She looked down, perplexed and then her internal software was forced to reboot when she realized that they were still holding hands. He gently grasped her small but sturdy hand within his own, entwining their fingers delicately while, apparently without permission from her brain, her own thumb ghosted delicately over the rough skin of his knuckles.
They were a blotchy purple in color, worn, with the normally smooth skin clearly broken, leaving behind ragged knots of…scar tissue? Uraraka's short circuiting was halted at the sight of Izuku's notched and bruised hands. They looked disturbingly like her own.
"Izuku…what..?" She breathed, bringing his hands closer. If that wasn't enough to worry her, now that she was looking closely, she could see the tell tale signs of ropey scarring peeking out from under the edges of his sleeves. He was wearing a worn and clearly well loved All Might jacket now, and he always wore a shirt at work and it only just then dawned on her that she had never seen his bare arms. Was this why? What happened to him? Uraraka had seen injuries like these before, heck if she looked in the mirror right then, she imagined that she wouldn't look too different. Izuku had the battle won marks of a fighter. She looked up at him, concern writ evident in her expression.
Panic marred his boyish features and he spoke in a rapid stream of attempts at reassuring. "Ah! I-It's not what it looks like! I don't just get into fights or anything like that!" Abashed, he rubbed the back of his neck with his free hand and looked away with another mounting blush. "MMA y'know, kickboxing and things like that, well pretty much all combat sports really…" he chuckled at himself. "It's one of my hobbies is all, and I got most of this…" he lightly flexed the hand that she held in her loose grip. "While training," he finished.
A sense of curious but profound relief overcame Uraraka and the tension that had bunched up across her shoulders drained away at his explanation. She let out a puff of air. "Jeez Izuku, don't scare me like. You should take better care of yourself y'know," she admonished him lightly. Unsure of why the idea of him having such a hobby fazed her so, all the while she did something remarkably similar, Uraraka pouted.
Izuku only laughed, the warm sound once again setting Urarakas heart afloat. "Yeah, I get that alot. Shinso and my mom take it in turns to remind me often. I guess I can add you to the roster now," he chuckled.
Uraraka expelled a puff of righteous air through her nose and gave a firm nod. "Uh-huh. Don't think ya can go around getting all beat up without looking after your injuries, now that I'm on the case mister. The next time I see you I wanna see some bandaged hands. Is that clear?" The little wobbling giggle that escaped her sort of killed the whole stern drill sergeant vibe she was going for, but Izuku didn't seem to mind.
His eyes closed just a fraction, and he smiled like the sun, throwing up a mock salute with his free hand. "Yes Ma'am," he trumpeted, laughter in his voice.
Uraraka grinned back. "You should come to Gunheads dojo one day! You can show me ya moves," she mimed an exaggerated pattern of shadow boxing, distracting herself from the warmth where his hand had met hers. She hadn't wanted to let go per say, but it was getting a bit much for her.
"Well I doubt I'd be much of a sparring partner for a pro but I'd love the chance to learn from you and Gunhead personally," he said.
Uraraka giggled at his ever present modesty when a bout of curiosity struck. "Hey Izuku? How long have you been doing this? What even got you into martial arts? To be honest it I didn't think you'd be interested in somethin' like that," she asked.
His boyish face took on a thoughtful look as he considered his answer. "Well, I started training around the time I got into UA so since I was 14 I think? As for the reason why…" He made a tight fist and looked down, staring at his clenched hand, admiring the purple and black splotched bruises with a fondness that Uraraka hadn't been expecting. "It's a way for me to feel strong."
Uraraka could understand that. Zero gravity was a powerful quirk but it didn't exactly lend itself to combat beyond incapacitation. Gunhead and his martial arts had been instrumental in not only her abilities, but confidence in herself that she could take on any villain. It was part of her identity now. She could imagine how having no quirk, combat focused or not, could lead to someone feeling powerless.
He looked as if he had more to say and Uraraka didn't want to interrupt so she stayed silent. She was rewarded when Izuku dropped his hand and looked up at her again, with a grimace touched smile, as if he were thinking of something painful. "I was kicked about a lot when I was young, being quirkless and all but I never stopped wanting to be a hero. It wasn't until All Might himself told me I couldn't be one that I stopped trying," he said.
Uraraka gaped at him, astounded. All Might had told him that? Her eccentric and excited teacher who did everything in his power to make his students happy? She couldn't believe it. A wave of sympathy washed over her, sure that a young and impressionable and hope filled Izuku would have been devastated to be told something like by All Might, of all people.
At her aghast expression, Izuku floundered a little. "Oh! Please don't misunderstand, he was right! I don't hold any ill will towards him at all! In fact he's the reason I got into UA. It's a bit of a long story but when I was younger, I did something really reckless when my fri- someone I knew from school, was being attacked by a villain. All Might saved the both of us and I dunno, I guess he saw potential in me or something, so he gave me the chance to get into the general course," he said, reminiscing. It was clear that his memory of the retired No.1 was precious to him, if the bright eyes and infectious smile were anything to go by.
Uraraka hummed quietly. "Still, I just can't picture All Might crushing someone's dreams like that, even if he was just trying to be nice," she mumbled in thought.
Izuku simply shrugged his shoulders. "It wasn't as bad as all that. He looked after me at UA, always made sure I was doing okay and he was the one who encouraged me to start martial arts. He even got me my job at Ryukyus agency," he said, his eyes aglow with admiration. "Really, meeting him was the best thing that ever happened to me! He taught me to find my own way to be a hero."
"So that 'someone' who taught you that not all 'heroes' are strictly heroes was the greatest hero who ever lived?"
"Ironic isn't it?" Izuku chuckled. "He carried on being my hero even after he retired, I just hope I can live up to his expectations."
The first time she'd properly interacted with Izuku, back when he'd joined the agency, Uraraka was ashamed to admit she hadn't thought much of him. He was awkward and seemed uncomfortable in his own skin which was drowned by poorly fitted and scruffy clothing. He stumbled over his words and seemed unable to even look most people in the eye. After a few months of knowing him, even just in passing, she would come to discover that he was nothing short of the kindest, most thoughtful person she'd ever met, and she knew Kirashima! He was sunshine in a bottle, the personification of altruism distilled into one person and now, sitting in front of him and only just learning of the man's origins as to who he was, she had come to find out that his kindness came from a single minded and deep seated desire to help those in need anyway he could. He was so fundamentally good that Uraraka had a hard time understanding how she could have ever considered him anything other than a hero, job title or no.
And she couldn't help but notice that he was cute as all hell whenever he spoke of the things he was passionate about.
The mischievous voice of Mina Ashido played in the back of her mind, repeating the phrase she'd teased her with back in Urarakas kitchen just the night before. Move it or lose it. Well, maybe she wasn't always off the mark with her shipping attempts.
Urarakas own reticence about the matter of romance hadn't disappeared, but she could feel Izuku changing her mind one conversation at a time.
"Izuku?" His name in the sound of her voice snapped Izuku out of his reverie and he blinked rapidly to focus his mind in the present.
In a fit of bravery Ochako closed the small gap between his side of the table and hers and gently took hold of his hand like before. "Thanks for this. I think I needed the distraction," she said sincerely.
Momentarily stunned by the intimate contact, Izuku struggled to find words for a second or two. "N-No problem Ochako, I'm glad I could take your mind off things," he beamed. "You gonna be okay to come into work tomorrow?"
Uraraka nodded emphatically. "For sure. First, I'm gonna check up on the girls at the hospital and then I'm gonna go on patrol and pray Jackrabbit doesn't decide to come bother me," sighed. "I think for once, I'd like it if absolutely nothin' happens when I'm out there y'know?"
Izuku chuckled. "I suppose that any day a hero if bored is a good day right?" He said.
Uraraka sighed again. "You're right, you're right. I just gotta remember to bring my earphones with me. At least then, I can keep the boredom away with K-pop," she said.
They shared a laugh and a moment of comfortable silence before Izuku's face took on a curious note of discordance. He turned to look out the window at a trio of patrolling local heroes and spoke again. "What do you think of him? The vigilante, I mean," he asked. His voice was perfectly aloof but Uraraka could pick out the vein of savage interest that lay deep beneath his words. For some reason, she felt like her response to this question was important to Izuku somehow.
She sighed, while complicated and opposing thoughts warred for dominance in her mind. "To be honest, I don't know how to answer that, Izuku. Part of me thinks he's just a villain hiding behind a hundred masks, doing whatever he wants but… I can't just ignore the things he did last night. To those girls, he's a hero just as much as I am and I don't know if I have the right to dispute them," she said with a grimace. The sudden question from Izuku about her thoughts on Jackrabbit had shaken her and it was the first time she'd been able to put the thoughts she'd been having into words.
She couldn't see Izuku's face, he was still looking out the window and most of his expression was lost in the bright light of the midday sun encroaching the inside of the cafe. But then he turned to look at her fully and all she could see was pain.
"I think that's the thing I like most about you, Ochako. You really try to see the best in everyone," he smiled his usual smile but for the first time that Uraraka had seen, it didn't reach his eyes. His words caught her off guard but she recovered enough to speak.
"Wh-what do you mean?"
"I think Jackrabbit is a coward," he proclaimed. The fake looking smile was gone, replaced by a hard set line that matched his harsh words. "A mask disguises intention and the people who wear them are usually hiding something bad."
Uraraka was taken aback by the sudden edge to Izuku's normally gentle timbre and even more so by the sadness, there for a fraction of second on his expressive face. He looked…miserable. Just as fast it had appeared, the ashen look in his eyes disappeared, replaced once again by the radiance she was accustomed to. "Ahh, I'm sorry Ochako, I didn't mean to bring the mood down, I just don't agree with the way he does things."
He wasn't entirely wrong. No matter how noble he could be, Jackrabbit was still a criminal and while Uraraka could no longer agree with Izuku's hardline stance on the matter, she could understand why a person like him, someone who admired heroes so much, would hate someone who he considered an imposter.
Uraraka opened her mouth to reply, with what she wasn't entirely certain, but Izuku glanced down at his watch and jumped in surprise. "Oh wow I really need to get back to work," he looked up at her with a warm smile. "This was fun Ochako, I'm glad I could help take your mind off things, at least for a bit. See you tomorrow?" He asked, securing the strap of his bag over one shoulder and adjusting his jacket. As he got up, he retrieved his wallet from his back pocket, and deposited a handful of bills on the table. Uraraka wouldn't notice until she tried to leave that he'd left enough for her coffee as well, on top of a generous tip.
Uraraka smiled back and waved her goodbyes. "Sure Izuku, I'll see you then," she said.
Giving a last exuberant wave as he walked, Izuku left the cafe with a merry jingle of the bell above the door. Uraraka couldn't help but think it was appropriate for him.
Alone again except for her thoughts, the gravity hero stared down into the dregs of her remaining drink and heaved a deep sigh. The last 48 hours had been perhaps the most exhausting of her life, both physically and emotionally. Between Jackrabbit; Razor and his victims; and most recently her emerging affection for Izuku, she was surprised she was still functionable enough to hold a conversation. The weariness was setting in now that Izuku wasn't there to distract her and she could think of nothing more than her bed once again. Tomorrow was a fresh day, one that hopefully brought some normality with it. She huffed a humorless laugh. Fat chance of that.
Ambling her way home, Urarakas dreams of slumber were intermittently pierced by needles of concern as Izuku's hollow eyes during their conversation about Jackrabbit flashed in her mind. Something about the vigilante, beyond the usual distaste, troubled Izuku deeply and Uraraka felt an irrational stab of guilt about inadvertently admitting to Izuku that she was no longer certain about the masked man. Regardless, she at least wished she knew what bothered him so much and, more than that, wished she knew how to help. Even heroes needed heroes, after all and she could think of worse things than being his.