#shindochako

She remembers how the warm vending machine coffee tin in her hand steadily cools and freezes in her hand, against the chill of the night air. A full moon, and Saturn above it. She sits on the curb, a heavy book bag filled with nursing references next to her.

He stands behind her at an arm’s length, leaning against the lamp post with his hands stuffed in his pockets. She feels his stare, light and unaffected, feels the usual lazy smile on his face burning on the skin of the nape of her neck.

What a waste of a beautiful night.

“Chako-chan, come on, don’t look like that.” He sounds the same, infuriatingly the same as always. Like he didn’t just ruin all their plans and humiliate her and break her heart.

Like he did absolutely nothing. “We were going to split up eventually.” She knows he’s shrugging, knows that not even a single muscle on his face twitches as he speaks. “I thought it was stupid to prolong the agony."

She’d laugh, but her eyes are stinging and she knew that she’d bawl if she opened her mouth without bracing herself. “Yocchan, what’s stupid is you not even trying to stay with me.”

For a person who’s so good at fighting, he isn’t very good at fighting to keep her at his side.

He exhales in frustration. “We talked about this over and over--” He uses that tone again, they’re going to argue about the same shitty thing again and neither of them will listen to each other and Ochako’s tired before it even begins. “It’s impossible for us to stay together if we want to chase after what we want! I mean, I’m a sidekick now, Chako, you know how hard it is to make time for myself as it is--”

She wouldn’t know, because he doesn’t answer her calls, texts, emails, nothing. She sees him more on TV with reporters and fans who assume that he’s single. He talks a lot, but they don’t talk anymore.

“--and I see you work so hard to help so many people one day. I can’t get in the way of that…”

She fuckin’ knows it, she knows how hard she works, how she’s stretched thin from studying and doing part-time work to pay her own tuition and living expenses. She hates like he says it like she doesn’t. She went in this field because she thought she wanted to give her parents a comfortable life. But it’s more than that now. She genuinely wants to help people, like he does.

They want the same thing, but he thinks that they’re on different pages entirely. It’s frustrating. “So do you think we’re holding each other back?”

Am I holding you back?

He doesn’t answer, and he doesn’t need to. She concentrates on keeping her breathing even.

She hears him move behind her. He falls next to her on that dirty curb. She feels his eyes on her as she keeps hers away from his, concentrates on the cool glow of Saturn overhead. Her mouth quivers when he turns her head to face him.

Has his smile always looked like this? Warm and dashing, but doesn’t quite reach his dark eyes? Has he always looked this… far away?

“Ochako,” he says in a low voice she barely hears from her orbit. “I’ll… love you forever, okay? I really will.”

He probably kisses her for the last time. Or he doesn’t. It’s entirely possible that he stands and leaves her on that curb, in the cold night with cold coffee in her hands, quietly and without another glance. It’s a memory from far too long ago, and it’s highly likely that a lot of it happened differently. Ochako could do to forget about it a little more.

But it’s too hard to forget the hollow in her heart that she feels that night despite the anger and emptiness, precisely because she thinks the same--she’ll probably love him forever too.

She isn’t always angry and bitter after that--there are pretty girls and pretty boys that helped her forget, good people who made her genuinely smile and frown and laugh and cry, many memories that she wouldn’t trade for the world.

Yet, she doesn’t ever remember trying to fill that hollow in her chest in the years that follow.

 *

 She sees Saturn again from her cold and lonely seat in the park bench that night, and briefly through Shouto’s window when he allows her to push him through the door with her hungry mouth on his.

There’s no words left to speak when she tugs off his coat in haste and sneaks her hands underneath his shirt to feel his skin. She feels the cold on his right, the warmth over his left and the thrum of his heart underneath. The contrast makes her dizzy, the broadness and hardness of his torso even more so. She can’t help but run her fingers appreciatively over him, can’t help but giggle when he gasps at the scratch of her fingernails.

Her hands curl around him, run all over his back where the dragons are. Fierce, powerful. She can trace the outlines of the flame and glaciers and the scales as her fingerpads trace his skin.

His eyes flutter closed as he allows her to trace them. His muscles move under her hands, the sensation very enticing.

Ah, she really wants her hands all over him. It’s a struggle to keep her pinky up when her body screams at all of her to make as much contact as possible.

She starts unbuttoning his shirt in a haze, pulling it off him so impatiently that she might have sent buttons flying all over the tatami. He also somehow works her hoodie and scrub top off of her, through grunts and gasps and hurried motions that might seem funny if they weren’t so delirious.

When his hands are on her again, she hisses at the sting of both hot and cold on the bare skin of her waist.

He lets her go. The air between his palms and her skin is too far. “Is this too much? I’m--”

“No,” she breathes. Places both hands on her--so big, she thinks, he’s so much bigger than her, even her waist feels small in his hands. “Keep your hands on me. I like it.”

He looks at her with heavy-lidded eyes, and descends on her mouth with much more fervor than she thinks is possible. She moans against his mouth when he activates his quirk on her a little more gently this time. She doesn’t know what her body wants to feel, when half of it is covered in goosebumps and the other screams red.

But at least the overload of sensations is just enough to numb the feeling inside.

She’s lifted in the next moment. Her arms go around his neck and her legs go around his torso. She feels how strong the former pro hero is as he barely struggles with all her weight on him, as he carries her across his apartment and into his bedroom.

He lays her down gently on a messy futon that he probably left unrolled from a busy morning. She sinks in its softness and his scent, although she wishes that he were a little rougher on her. Her blood aches for a lot of pressure, pain even. She bites his lower lip to goad him on, earning her a surprised moan.

“Ochako.” His voice is so deep she feels like drowning. “I…”

She swallows his words down with another kiss. No more words. “You can do whatever you want,” she breathes, looking right into his eyes.

His Adam’s apple bobs with a thoughtful swallow. “Are you sure?”

She nods and nibbles at his collarbone. She’s going to do whatever she wants too, and she hopes he understands.

Carefully, his hands trail up her stomach, her chest, her bare shoulders. She shudders at the lines of warmth and cold that he traces under nimble finger tips, that curl around her back to unhook her bra and pull it down. He peppers kisses along her jaw, the side of her neck, her collarbone, the swell of her breast. Her breath shallows and hastens as he goes lower and lower, stopping at the waistband of her pants.

“Tell me to stop anytime and I will,” he whispers clearly, with eyes that are both searing and soft and careful.

His cold hand remains over her left breast, squeezes it appreciatively. All she’s able to manage is an affirmative whimper.

He smiles, and pulls her pants and underwear down in one go.

The cool air hits her nakedness all at once. She doesn’t have a lot of mindfulness left to be embarrassed to be completely undressed in front of Todoroki Shouto for the first time. Still, the weight of his gaze on her-- all of her, including the parts of her carefully tucked away and shaped and hidden underneath her clothing--she swears there’s a palpable heat where his eyes land on her skin.

“Beautiful,” she hears him whisper from above her.

That single word causes a spike of heat in her bloodstream. She blushes furiously, muttering, “N… no, don’t say stuff like…”

“Hm?” His hum comes out as a purr when he leans down to nuzzle into her neck again. She feels his lips curl against her skin. “Why not?”

“Because-- hm-- ” It’s hard to go on a body conscious rant when that pretty mouth of his is on her, all over her, the trail going lower, lower. “You’re the pretty one between us, Shouto, and I’m just-- ahh-- ”

He bit her, oh my god. He suckles on the offended spot on her chest, eyes on her and glinting excitedly. “Just…?”

“Just…” God, what is she saying again? Words are suddenly meaningless, not when his warm hand snakes down between them, below her, hovering over her core. Another ahh escapes her as he traces a line up and down her entrance, palm pressing over her sensitive nub.

“I don’t understand, Ochako.” She knows by now that he knows how to tease, but it always catches her off-guard when he does. “Everything about you is beautiful. Your eyes. Your cheeks. Your neck. Your breasts, your belly… your thighs… this little astronaut here--you got me ever since I saw this--”

He presses soft kisses over those places as he says them, and oh god she won’t have enough oxygen in her lungs to listen to him list down all her body parts. He pays extra attention to the little tattoo, nibbles it a little even, as if paying tribute to the pesky thing that spurred all of this on.

She giggles, then groans when his mouth continues to explore her skin.

He descends and crouches in front of her, arms hooked around her thighs. He takes his time kissing the soft, inner surface, squeezes the muscles there appreciatively. She gasps for the nth time, amazed at the sight of him kneeling before her like he’s praying in church, worshiping her body.

“Sh-Shou--”

She doesn’t finish saying his name when she feels his tongue on her.

“Oh god,” she gasps. The feel of his tongue is insanely good. She feels him play with the temperature of his mouth and his breath as he eats her out. Sometimes searing hot, with puffs of cold, and the shock of all the sensations drive her mad. She can’t help but grind her hips against his face. At this rate it won’t take too long before she unravels--she bites her fingers, tries to keep herself in control--

She isn’t able to, and soon her body shudders and she’s seeing stars and she’s moaning his name over and over. She’s been eaten out before, but she’s sure it doesn’t feel as good as it did just then. She breathes like she held her breath the entire time. “Shouto, that was good, so good…”

He smiles in satisfaction, crawls forward and kisses her full on the mouth. She tastes herself in his mouth--an odd sensation she doesn’t usually like, but she craves his mouth, craves the sting of heat and cold, craves that sensory onslaught--

Make it numb--

Her head is going down from the high, and already she’s craving for the next one. She gives in to the surge of courage and desperation. She rolls them over so that he’s flat on his back and she’s straddling his hips. With a surprised gasp, Shouto looks up at her with wide eyes.

“Ochako--”

She drowns his words again with another kiss. “I want you to feel good too…”

He chuckles beneath her as she unbuttons his fly. “You’re impatient tonight.” He kisses her back sweetly all the same and allows her to pull off his pants all the same.

He has no idea. She’s terrible for using him like this. When she draws out a sound of pleasure from him with the touch of her hand, a very small twinge in her chest makes itself known. She ignores it and lets it fade, because she’s good at that, and instead focuses on giving Todoroki Shouto head, because she knows she’s also good at that.

It’s so easy to forget those feelings of guilt when she watches his beautiful face contort in pleasure, watch urgent breaths and gasps flow and fall within that talented mouth. Her tongue swirls around the head, making him groan out her name.

“You’re beautiful,” he repeats, making her heart throb wildly in her chest. “So beautiful taking me in your mouth, damn--”

She hums. Never has a word--a profanity, of all things--hit her veins like a bullet, make her entire body shudder in excitement. And he says it so quietly, like he stumbles over the word and the debauched part of him that enjoys it.

She loves the way it sounds. She’s surprised by it, because who would have thought that hearing Todoroki Shouto, this absolute demigod descended upon the earth, curse like a heathen just from the play of her tongue--

“Fuck, that’s so good--” A little louder now. A little more wrecked. More, Ochako wants to hear more of that.

It goads her on even further, not meaning to stop until he comes, but soon he stops her with his hands on her cheeks and motions for her to go up to him.

She obliges, kisses him on the mouth again. He returns it languidly at first, stutters against her mouth when she presses and slides her dripping core against his length. She lifts her head and smiles smugly at the way his eyes roll upward.

“Do you like that?” The sweet pressure against her entrance is simultaneously too much and not enough. Gods, isn’t it about time to go all the way? She begins to align her hips to his hardness almost mindlessly. She feels Shouto’s burning grip on her hips and she loves how she’s sure of the marks that’ll be there in the morning.

“Wait,” he says. His cold hand leaves her to reach out for a drawer, almost out of his reach. It’s a struggle, but he eventually finds what he’s looking for. “If you do that, I might not be able to stop myself, so…”

Ah, did she really almost let him in without a condom? How starved is she that she would be so careless?

The moments when he covers himself is short, but it’s enough to make her aware of that twinge in her chest, and it’s unbearable. It’s so that when he’s done, she moves in immediately. They gasp in unison as she sinks to the hilt slowly, steadily.

Oh, god, she didn’t think he’d fit--she feels filled past her limit, she feels like she’s about to split open. Her mouth hangs open as she catches her breath, and barely feels Shouto’s hands on her shoulders, steadying her.

“Are you all right?”

Sapphire and onyx focus on her, brows furrowed in concern.

It hurts. Just a little, but she needs this. She nods, gives him a smile and another kiss, as a response. “I’m all right, dear… it feels good, it does, it does--”

She lifts as she slurs out the words. Shouto moans a little louder--she isn’t sure if it’s with the way her body rises and sinks down, over and over, or if it’s how the word dear slips out of her mouth.

A rhythm is soon set in place. The sounds of their mouths and tongues colliding is absolutely lewd, the sound of her wetness moving up and down his length even more so. His head falls on her shoulder. (Is this really him holding onto her body for dear life?) His hands are back on her waist, assisting her, goading her to move faster, faster--

“Ochako-- fuck, it’s so good… so tight--”

She never imagined Shouto to be so vocal, so fuckin’ vulgar. She moves her hips a certain way, and she’s treated to the sound of this perfect and poised and composed man cursing over and over, on the verge of losing control. Seeing him gripping his inhibitions so loosely spurs her on and on. She wants to give him all that she can just to see how far he would let go.

(It makes her feel a little worse--she’s such a user , she shouldn’t, she really shouldn’t, but…)

His voice fills her head like a mantra, hypnotizing her, urging her closer and closer and closer--

“I never thought you would--with me-- fuck, you’re so good, you feel so good--”

That worship and that slip of the tongue feels so right, even though she doesn’t deserve it. It doesn’t take long before her body clenches around him, and his name escapes from her in a strangled cry. She feels him stiffen inside her soon after, thrusting up at her erratically as he moans her name.

He kisses her again as if he’ll never get sick of it, hands cupping her cheeks tenderly. He pulls out soon after, letting her roll to the futon.

The bed feels unbearably empty when he excuses himself to throw the condom away. It isn’t even that long, and Ochako feels stupid that she feels so sad, so cold when his weight isn’t on the futon.

He comes back eventually with mittens from the kitchen, which makes her snort indignantly. When he puts his arms around her and spoons her, she doesn’t feel as sad or as stupid, but…

“Ochako,” Shouto mutters low in her ear. “You can stay the night, if you want to.”

“I could?”

He hums--ah, she loves the sound of that, loves the rumble that goes all over her body. “... not just tonight either. Just say the word. I’ll get you all the mittens you want.”

She can’t help the dumb smile on her face. She turns to face him, meets the tiny, genuine smile on his face. What a sight. “I’d like that.”

“Mm.” The blanket that covers them is warm. Shouto is warm. He’s all around her, as he should be. It feels like heaven. His eyes close as he holds her closer.

But...

The sound of his quiet breath isn’t loud enough to calm the turmoil in her heart.

 *

 Past midnight, Shouto’s eyes are wide open.

Ochako snoozes beside him, snoring softly. Chestnut hair falling over her face, one round cheek squished against his pillows. Hands in his comically oversized mittens sprawled above her head. At some point, she turned away from him, her back pressing against his chest.

He stares at the creamy expanse of her back. The mole he found ages ago is still there, amongst the sparse smattering of freckles, in the shallow valley along her spine right where he remembers it would be.

Without thinking about it, he bends over to press his lips over it.

She sighs in her sleep upon the contact.

He smiles. This is nice. Sleeping in one futon is nice. As is being able to kiss Uraraka Ochako as much as this.

It’s strange. He hasn’t dated anyone seriously before for many reasons, but this isn’t the first time he was intimate with anyone. Those warm bodies and messy one-night stands are regrettably forgettable though. He doesn’t remember feeling elated or the opposite about them.

But this… he knows that he’ll remember this night for a long time.

(He convinces himself that it’s not a bad thing.)

He wants to kiss her again. He knows he’s never felt that way about another person before. He wants to hold her close, have his mouth on hers, wants to drown in the cherry blossom scent of her hair. Wants to look in those warm brown eyes, looking up at him and all over him.

(Her eyes.)

Something beats in his chest like a warning. He remembers clearly when he thinks about Ochako’s eyes--how turbulent and cloudy they were, how anxious, how impatient. Like she can’t keep her hands off him because she can’t stand not using her body like she did.

It’s… concerning. But she didn’t seem interested in talking about it, and he didn’t have the will or the power to keep her away anymore. It’s probably illogical to feel like this new closeness of theirs actually pushed them farther apart.

It’s even more illogical how afraid he feels suddenly that he’ll lose her like this.

No… he won’t lose her. Why would he? They wanted each other equally. The moment called for them to be closer. All of it felt right.

(Except, that look in her eyes, didn’t that feel wrong?)

He wonders if he should have stopped it. 

(He wonders again, if he could have. He’s dreamed of having her in his arms for some time now, he realizes, and not only because she’s obliged to do it for other people.)

Maybe he’s worrying for nothing. Maybe he’s looking too much into it while things are falling neatly in place for them. Maybe, just this once, things are working out of them both.

Well. All he knows he should still ask her about it, when she wakes up.

Just in case he’s wrong, though, he ought to keep her close to him. Let himself memorize the way her small body presses against his, with all its enticing curves and slopes and warmth and sweetness.

He knows that he’ll miss all this in the morning, when they need to wake up.

 *

 And he does, when the sun rises and hits him in the eye, and the incessant buzzing of a phone cuts into his dream like the edge of a blunt knife.

Not removing himself from Ochako’s side, he gropes blindly for the offensive device on the tatami above their heads. His hand lands on it as it vibrates, and with bleary eyes he tries to process what he’s seeing.

First thing he realizes is that it’s not his phone. It’s a particularly old model, one that does not need fingerprint recognition to be unlocked.

Next thing is that it’s probably Ochako’s phone, because logically there’s no-one else who could own it, and also because the lock screen features her swollen arm with a partially-coloured Saturn tattooed on it.

And finally, the last thing he learns, as his bleary eyes adjust to the brightness of the phone and his mind partially lifts from its fog: It’s 0601H, and the phone has been buzzing since 0530H, when the first of five messages came in.

All of them from one person.

  Shindo Yo (0530H): morning sleepyhead ヾ(￣0￣ )ノ

Shindo Yo (0533H): Hope u rly wake up soon, said u got a morning shift today (read more)

Shindo Yo (0542H): u didn’t message me lst nite T_T is it because i said u looked like a squirrel and (read more)

Shindo Yo (0545H): i remembered u last night during my patrol!!! i helped out a granny with round cheeks like… (read more)

Shindo Yo (0600H): ill tell u all about it when u wake up  ＼(o￣∇￣o)/❀ヅ❤♫

 He rubs his eyes, trying to make sense of the messages, and not only because of all the shortcuts.

Shindo Yo. Shindo Yo. It takes him a while, but when it does, the messy dark hair and smug face and sneaky dark eyes come to surface, and his morning is immediately ruined.

The phone buzzes again with a chime, as another message comes in-- wake up already ur gonna be l8 for work again-- and this time Ochako stirs with the sound, one mittened hand blindly groping the floor around her.

“Hnn… shut up, I’m awake you noisy idiot,” she mutters, as her mitten keeps meeting empty floor.

He stares at her, and the phone in his hand, still in danger of freezing over in his palm. Without another word, he places it on the floor above her quietly, facedown.

Eventually, one mitten finds it. She takes the phone clumsily, tries to unlock the phone before she realizes that the touch screen can’t recognize her mittened thumb. Awfully, unfairly cute. Shouto would have teased her for it, if he weren’t so irritated. 

She is awfully silent, staring at her phone and focusing on those annoying messages, like it takes her a while to decipher them as well. Over her shoulder, Shouto sees more cutesy kaomoji littering the screen. How anyone understands anything like that without having a headache from sensory overload is beyond him.

Still… Ochako thinks about it, and types a message back.

And all at once, Shouto remembers his place.

She isn’t supposed to be here. She’s supposed to be at her apartment, waking up in a bed alone. Or…  someone else who isn’t him. Not him. Not like this, vulnerable and confused and conflicted.

He’s wrong about everything.

The message is too small and brief for him to read. He wonders what she tells him. Did she tell him good morning back? Tell him thanks for waking her up? Ask about that granny with round cheeks, tell him that they should talk about it face-to-face? Did she say where he was, that she’s actually in his apartment, or is it too unimportant a fact to say to that guy?

He looks away, because fundamentally it’s wrong to read someone else’s correspondences like this. Also, if he thinks about the two of them any more than this…

“Brrr… you’re getting cold,” Ochako says, as she places her phone face-down on the futon. “You okay?”

He catches himself right before he gets any colder. “Yeah. Sorry about that.”

She blinks at him, a little more awake now, a little concerned. “You… don’t look okay. Is there anything on your mind?”

Is she ready to talk now? That’ll be difficult, because he suddenly doesn’t feel that he is.

“Nothing’s on my mind.”

She tilts her head up on his pillow, pink cheeks glowing and little eyebrows furrowing together. “W… well… if you say so…”

A silence bears down on them, heavy and incompatible with the warm light of the sun streaming in the room. Steadily suffocating, like a hand around his neck. He needs to stand up, to think a little clearer, to get away from that intoxicating cherry blossom scent--

“Shouto…”

He stands before she can say anything more, pulling out a shirt and a pair of boxers for her and dropping them next to her without another word. He pulls on a pair of sweats as well, and without thinking too much about it, begins to move about the room as if it’s just another Wednesday morning.

He crosses the room to move to the bathroom when he feels her tugging on his pants leg. He meets her confused gaze quietly, tilting his head and letting her do the talking.

(He really cannot talk right now.)

“Can we, you know… just talk for a second,” she says, patting the space next to her. “I’ll be quick, I promise.”

He regards the space next to her briefly, and opts to sit on the tatami in front of her. She gives him another odd look, but says nothing more about it. She doesn’t put on his shirt, and instead uses it to cover her front in a gesture of modesty.

The silence falls over them again, more unforgiving. Shouto gives her a few moments to form the words in her head.

“I mean, um. About what we did last night.” She rubs her arm self consciously, suddenly unable to meet his eyes.  The warmth of last night, the quiet he felt inside staring at her back suddenly seems so far away.

When the silence becomes too much to bear, he says, even though he’s quite unready to speak: “If it was a mistake, I’m sorry.”

She looks up at him with a sheen in his eyes. “A… mistake?”

Her voice wavers. It’s a little unfair how hurt she appears over his words, when he felt just as awful in her silence a while ago.

He exhales quietly. “You seemed uneasy with me this morning… so I wasn’t sure.”

She bites her lip. “Oh… yeah, I mean if you aren’t sure…”

It seems that none of the words they’re using are working.

He tries again. “If you don’t want things to change between us, it’s all right. We don’t have to do this again.”

She swallows and looks away even farther. “I… I mean, if you don’t want to… I’m sorry, I must have pushed myself on you last night… I didn’t mean to, and…”

She didn’t mean to do any of those things with him last night.

“... I’m sorry if I got carried away, Shouto.” She bows her head, looking at the growing space between them. “I thought that you wanted to. And I wanted to, I definitely wanted to, so…”

She looks up with her shiny doe eyes, confused and vulnerable. Little globules of tears at the corners of her eyes. He really wants to hold her close again, but he wonders what for.

He needs her to be honest this time. He will be too, when he figures out the correct words to say. “Am I holding you back from anything?”

She stares at him with a hint of bewilderment in her eyes. “... why would you ask that?”

He sighs. “Because I feel like I am.”

She looks at him like she can’t believe what she’s hearing. “No… isn’t it the opposite?” she says, with sudden heat behind her words. “I thought it was me all along… because aren’t you and Yui-san--”

Kodai? What does she have to do with this?

“Don’t look at me like that, Shouto,” she says in frustration. “I didn’t mean to see it, okay? You two holding hands in the cafe, in plain sight--”

Shouto’s jaw drops, if only for the incredulousness of the situation.

“--and, to be honest, I know there’s nothing wrong with it, because… there was nothing between us. Not really.” The tears begin to flow, and damn they look so wrong flowing down those cheeks. “And you never said anything about it, and it’s okay, I’ll respect you, but it’s stupid, isn’t it? I dunno why I feel screwed up, why… why I’m like this, why I need to be with someone, when...”

He wants to hold her, to rub his hands over her back, tell her that it’s okay to feel whatever she feels. But he doesn’t. Everything feels wrong today, somehow...

“There’s nothing between me and Kodai,” he tells her instead.

She stares at him. “What do you mean?”

He probably shouldn’t tell her about the investigation. It seems to be told to him in confidence. “It’s… work-related. The conversation, the hand-holding. They were things that she needed to do.”

“Wait…” She rubs her forehead rapidly. “So… she needed to talk to you in that private, intimate setting… needed to hold your hand in public…? Needed to have all those fake rumors about the two of you, for what? Work?”

He nods, because it’s the truth.

She scoffs. “How many women do you have to fake-date to get out of things?”

What? Shouto shakes his head. “No, that’s… we aren’t dating, not in any shape of form… she’s different from you.”

Her eyes snap open, and he knows he said something wrong again.

Irritation courses through her, raw and hot, and he feels it from his seat. “That’s a really funny thing to say, Shouto.” She stands, not giving a damn about how she’s still undressed. She bends over to collect her scrub pants from the floor, leaving Shouto’s clothes untouched. “I mean--you can just tell me that you don’t want to tell me anything and I’ll be okay with it, I’ll still pretend to be your girlfriend--”

“Ochako--”

“--but lying to me? To my face?” The tears feel different now. Instead of the quiet free fall over her cheeks, they’re boiling hot and fly from the corners of her eyes with the swift turn of her head. “I… I thought we were friends. I thought--”

“We are,” he says. “I just… can’t tell you everything right now, but--”

No, she isn't supposed to go away like this. They're supposed to talk, to clear the tangle of confusing emotions between them. He's supposed to finally know where he stood with her--if he's in the right place next to her, or in the wrong one, in between the two of them.

He tries to hold on to her wrist. She struggles against his grip briefly before she pulls away. Her skin screams red when she does.

She inhales sharply. He sees her mouth move silently, counting to ten, before she faces him again. “Sorry. I… I just can’t. Not right now. Maybe later? When we’re both calm.”

She finds her discarded clothes, starts shoving them on her body one by one without a single word uttered between them. Soon they’re at the door. Ochako is tying her shoelaces as quickly as she can, pointedly facing away from him.

He gathers his courage. “Ochako.”

“Yeah?” She doesn’t look up at him.

The air is suddenly cold in his lungs when he lets it go. “We… don’t have to keep on dating.”

That makes her turn her head to look over her shoulder.

He can’t meet her eyes, though. “If you have other things on your mind.” Other people. “I understand. We can call this off.”

She puts a hand over the doorknob, pausing thoughtfully.

He wants so badly to hold her, to keep her within the threshold. It’s painful being alone, and even more painful now that he’s aware of how his apartment will feel without her in it. 

Instead, he tells her, “It’s about time I faced my problems on my own, anyway.”

Another pregnant pause, one where he’s too aware of how the room grows colder with every passing second. She turns her head, chestnut hair swishing in a way that he won’t see again.

“We’ll talk later,” is all she says, before disappearing behind the closed door.

 *

 Ochako plows through the two weeks that follow that morning in the best way she can--working herself to the bone until she has nothing to do but collapse on a heap on the floor and snooze away until her next shift.

They… don’t talk.

She stares at her phone and at the blinking cursor of the LINE App. Shouto’s last good night message stares back at her like a cold relic. The weeks of silence stretch out to infinity. Whoever said that time makes anything better was fuckin’ wrong.

She still doesn’t know what to say. She missed her chance. If they didn't get carried away--if she wasn't so desperate to feel anything else--

But he’s silent on his end as well. In the hospital, when they see each other, they lock eyes and it’s always heavy but always quiet. They don’t try to eat together anymore or even converse in public. Shouto has stopped offering her rides to her apartment. She volunteers for procedures every chance she gets, as long as it isn’t neurosurgery, and the other nurses have noticed.

They say nothing about it except exchange smug, knowing glances with each other. Mina frequently alternates between giving those people death glares and giving Ochako concerned ones. She doesn’t say anything though, because Ochako doesn’t say anything.

She seems to know enough, though. Her and Eijirou, because no matter what her shift is one or the other is always there to take her home, looking both ways to see if anyone is following them. Ochako wonders if Shouto has told them anything, and how much if he did, but she’s too ashamed to ask anything.

Her phone chimes incessantly, but she knows it isn’t him. They need to talk, but it isn’t like before. There’s an impassable wall between their hearts and their mouths.

Her apartment is cold.

Nothing changes.

 *

  Shindo Yo (1843H): hey Uraraka-san? Are you free right now?

Shindo Yo (1911H): ah, i dont mean anything bad i promise~

Shindo Yo (1911H): u n Todoroki-san got nothhn 2 worry bout

Shindo Yo (1912H): i promise im not bein creepy

Shindo Yo (1913H): i just noticed… ur rly stressed lately arent u (๑•﹏•)

Shindo Yo (1914H): if ur not busy! Come with me for drinks Ｏ(≧∇≦)Ｏ

Shindo Yo (1916H): i know u arent good at drinking so its ok if u just have a milkshake or sth i’ll take care of all the beers n shit σ(≧ε≦ｏ)

Me (1916H): ok

Shindo Yo (1917H): and ill treat u of course, theres good burgers in the place im thinkin of and a mochi place nearby itll be awesome Ｏ(≧∇≦)Ｏ

Shindo Yo (1919H): wait

Shindo Yo (1919H): ok?

Shindo Yo (1920H): （＊〇□〇）……！

Me (1921H): yep

Me (1922H): where?

Shindo Yo (1923H): ah wait gimme a moment

Me (1928H): …. Senpai?

Me (1930H): u were kidding werent u

Me (1932H): i knew it. Can u not make jokes like that if u wont do good on em.

Me (1934H): whatever im goin to bed

Shindo Yo (1938H): NOOO dont

Shindo Yo (1938H): sorry for not replying i was all messed up from patrol so i took a shower right here in the agency!!! Am putting on pants rn!

Shindo Yo (1939H): ten minutes! Ill pick u up in ten minutes!!!

Me (1942H): um, ,,,,ok

Me (1943H): we can just meet wherever u know

Me (1943H): just let me know where

Shindo Yo (1945H): well… i wanted to pick u up but if u like that better

Me (1946H): yep

Shindo Yo (1948H): ok then :)

Shindo Yo (1949H): Meathead Bar, near Kiyashi Ward, 30 mins!!!!

Me (1951H): eh

Shindo Yo (1952H): Too far? Like i said i can pick u up

Me (1953H): no its ok. Just… havent been to that place in a while, isnt that near the red light district

Shindo Yo (1955H): haha nah its fine

Shindo Yo (1956H): i know the owner. And ur gonna be with a pro so dont worry bout sleazebags

Me (1958H):...

Me (2000H): ok

Shindo Yo (2001H): yay!!! Ill see u chako-chan!

Shindo Yo (2002H): dont be late ok or else ill cry •(◐﹏◐)•

Me (2005H): ok ill see u soon yo-senpai

Shindo Yo (2006H): !!!!! (●♡∀♡)

Shindo Yo (2007H): ok!!! See u! omw!!!

 *

 She enters the Meathead Bar exactly thirty minutes later. The place only has a few people scattered about, maybe because it’s so early. It’s easy to spot Shindo speaking to a sour-faced purple-haired bartender at one end of the bar. The moment she enters, he catches her eye and waves her over.

“Hey, you,” he says with a big smile. “Don’t you clean up nice.”

She didn’t want to put so much effort into dressing up nicely tonight and had almost decided on wearing Kyoka’s band shirt underneath a plaid shirt and jeans… until she realized that the last time she made an effort was to meet the Todorokis. Somehow that was enough to ditch that outfit in favor of a pink dress that showed off her arms and the curve of her hips, and put a leather jacket over that.

She shrugs and takes note of his outfit too--a dark button-down, two buttons undone at the top and sleeves rolled up to show off his toned arms; skinny jeans and sneakers; glimmering silver on one ear, around his neck, on his watch.

He looks as flashy as ever. She sees people looking over their shoulder to drink in the sight of him--whether for his looks or because he’s the rising pro-hero Seismic remains to be known. “You look pretty awful yourself, senpai.”

“Ouch.” He makes a show of being hurt. “Ah, wait, let me introduce you to Meathead’s owner! So this is Shishikura Seiji, a meat specialist and all-around nice guy--”

He doesn’t look that nice based on the way his eyes look down on her, but okay--

“And this is Uraraka Ochako,” he says, his eyes darkening a little, “my ex-girlfriend from a decade or so ago.”

“Hrm,” grumbles Shishikura, with a sardonic twist of his mouth. “This isn’t one of those corny things where you’re actually introducing your wife, you bastard?”

“Oh no, he really is my ex,” Ochako says before Shindo can get another word in. “I totally hate this guy.”

Shindo makes another shot-to-the-heart gesture, while Shishikura snorts. “Good for you. So, Shindo, let me leave this potentially awkward situation now so I can get you your food and alcohol.”

“Right. Thanks Shishkabob.”

“Say that again and I’ll kick you out of the premises,” the purple-haired man says without humor, before disappearing from plain sight.

“So… that wasn’t too awkward, I hope,” Shindo laughs, as he gestures for Ochako to take a seat.

“Nope, just awkward enough.” She obliges and arranges herself on the seat. Her hands go to her phone almost on instinct to check her messages.

He notices and raises his eyebrows. “Yeah, I guess you have to tell your boyfriend that you got here safe, huh?”

There’s a message from Mina, asking her if she got home safe, plus a selfie of her puckering up. Another from Aoyama, who texted something in French that she needs Google Translate to decode.

There isn’t anything from Shouto, but she expected that.

“... yeah, I should,” she says, sending a heart emoji to Mina. After which, she locks her phone and puts it face-down at the bottom of her bag, where she won’t reach it so easily.

When she looks up, Shindo has his hand under his chin, staring at her with a knowing twinkle in his eye. “What is it?”

“Nothing,” he says, as Shishikura silently gives them two shots of whiskey on the rocks. “So… Nurse Uraraka, how have you been? Has life-work balance been any easier for you?”

There isn’t any life-work balance to begin with. Ochako reckons that the components of her life have fallen off the scale ages ago. “It’s not bad. I’m sure it isn’t as bad as yours, with the upsurge of villains and all.”

He laughs. “You said it. I worked another double shift again today, you know. Been on the job since five in the morning.”

She whistles low. “Insane.”

And here he is, having drinks with her, with more energy than he knew what to do with. “Hey, it’s a calling, just like yours. We both just gotta do what we gotta do, right?” He sips the whiskey without wincing and leans forward. “So, Uraraka, have you been doing what you have to do?”

Besides running away from her stupid feelings?

There’s a gleam of curiosity in his eyes, and something underneath. Ochako knows him too well to sense that he’s digging for something else.

So she takes a thoughtful sip of her whiskey, also without wincing, and looks at him in the eyes. “I do what I can, senpai. But there’s not a lot of excitement on my end, so I’d much rather hear you talk tonight.”

The attempt at deflection registers with him, if the shine in his eyes is anything to go by. Still, he laughs it off. “Well, if you say so~ you know, today they asked for back-up in the Naruhata ward--man, that place is messed up, maybe there’s something in the water there…”

Soon, Shindo fills the air between them with his interesting stories. He’s really good at engaging the audience, and even Ochako allows herself to be genuinely interested in the things he’s saying.

When Shishikura comes back with meatballs, she asks for five shots of vodka.

 *

 The night goes on, and so does Ochako. By this time she’s finished the first glass of whiskey and the vodka. Shindo has ordered a shitty bottle of rum for them to finish. They’re halfway there when she tries to stand to leave for the restroom.

Tries, being the keyword, because she couldn’t figure out how to get down from the barstool. Does she go left, or right? Which foot goes down first? Where does she put her hands to support herself? She probably can’t do it on the table because it’ll float all the way to the ceiling and they’d have to pay for damages--

“Chako-chan!” Shindo’s guffaw is louder than necessary. He’s probably had one shot too many too. “You’re not okay anymore, aren’t you?”

“I’m good,” she says. She experimentally tries to put her left foot down. When it’s on solid ground, she puts the right one after, and stands up--

And stumbles, face-first, into something solid.

“Whoa there,” Shindo says, wrapping his arms around her, pressing her closer to his chest. “Chako, come on, you can barely stand, I don’t know what you’re trynna do but you’re gonna hurt yourself like this--”

He smells like pepper and spice, and it should smell good. She can’t help but inhale the scent of him as her fingers curl over the fabric of his shirt, struggles to keep herself upright.

“S--senpai--”

Stupidly though, all she’s able to think of is how different it smells from Shouto.

Ugh, where the hell did that come from? Why does her mind work like this, why does he randomly rise in her memory when she should be focused on her balance and stepping away from Shindo and not destroying Shishikura-san’s property--

“Chako-chan?”

The fabric in front of her face is suddenly damp. She wonders if it’s just his sweat or if she accidentally spilled his drink on him, or--

“Hey.” He pulls her face off of him and stares into her eyes. Gosh, his eyes are so dark, it’s so hard to read them, they’re so different, different, and fuck don’t go there, he’s telling you something important, “... wrong? Tell me, okay? Talk to me…”

Her head spins when she wills the words to get out. “No… it’s okay…”

“Huh?”

“No,” she says, shaking her head. The alcohol is all over her head now. She should stop this shit, hasn’t this happened before, getting ass-faced in front of the wrong fuckin’ person and having to rely on someone else to take her home--can’t she do something right, for once? If she wasn’t such a weak-willed coward and told Shouto how she really felt, then--

“What?”

Her mouth closes, and she realizes from the croak of her voice that she just finished speaking.

“The wrong fuckin’ person, huh.” Shindo sighs. He pushes her at a distance from him, but doesn’t let her go. “Right. Well… this just got way past awkward enough.”

“... yeah. Sorry.”

All the words die in her throat. Somehow the two of them gain enough sobriety from that, and climb up back in their seats. An unbearable silence stretches between the two of them, before Shindo speaks up again.

“That stings a lot, Uraraka-san, but it’s not like I didn’t deserve it.” He pushes a glass of cold water to her and urges her to drink it before continuing. “I mean, from the way things ended between us, ‘the wrong fuckin’ person’ is probably the nicest thing you can call me.”

Another bout of silence. Her head’s hazy, but she doesn’t miss the visible struggle in Shindo’s usually unreadable eyes. One of his hands moves as if to seek hers, but he stops it midway.

“... Chako,” he inhales, uncharacteristically despondent. “I didn’t fight for you. I’m really sorry.”

The apology she’s been waiting for, ten years in the making. Her eyes widen in disbelief.

“... I didn’t think I’d regret letting you go as much as I did. So when I saw you again, after all this time, I thought I’d regret it if I didn’t at least try to get you back, you know? Even if I had to play dirty, even if you already had--I mean, have Todoroki. Am I wrong?”

But why doesn’t she feel as vindicated as she should?

She isn’t able to answer, though, and it gets him interested. He sits up a little straighter, forcing some clarity in his gaze. “This is why I thought I had a chance. I wasn’t sure where you and Todoroki stood.”

She swallows down a gulp of water. That makes two of them.

“Yikes, you two. You aren’t big talkers, aren’t you. I know, I got that vibe from the one time he wanted to ice me in a public hospital lobby just for talking to you.”

She chokes on her water. “Wh… what? You’re kidding!”

Despite herself, a smile is forming on her lips. He groans in frustration, because really, that’s what it takes for her to laugh again? “Just for tonight, I’m giving up on you, okay? But tomorrow, fuck Todoroki, I’ll keep on bugging you ‘til you’re sure of what you want for yourself.”

She… doesn’t know how to feel about that. But she agrees that she needs to have a good talk with herself before she even thinks about another person.

Thanks to the glass of water, it’s easier to stand up. She’s woozy, but at least she’s got enough sobriety to walk unassisted across the bar and out to the street, where Shindo hails a cab for her.

“How about you?” she asks, when he closes the door after her with the window rolled down.

He pokes her nose with a finger in response. “Let me get wasted a little more here, yeah? I mean, you just broke this innocent hero’s heart.”

“Idiot.”

“Agreed.” He signals the driver to go. Soon, the car lurches forward, and Ochako watches as Shindo’s silhouette gets smaller and smaller and eventually, disappears behind the doors.

Thankfully, she gets to her tiny apartment complex safely, and is sober enough to walk the short distance to her door. When she stumbles in, shoes kicked off and body flopped on the couch, she allows herself to stare at the ceiling, in a beat. Two beats.

So, Uraraka, have you been doing what you have to do?

She takes a deep breath to steady herself. She fishes out her phone, taps a message in it without thinking too hard on it for once, and presses send.

Her phone lights up with a message as soon as the message is delivered.

  Me (0032H): hey, so about last time, im sorry. if ur not busy lets talk for real this time

Todoroki Shouto (0032H): Can we see each other soon?