Chapter Text
Ochako dreamed of blood. She felt it in her veins, cold and slow, her body going numb. She couldn’t hear anymore, her vision blurry. But she could see a smiling face—then warmth flooded through her, her body could feel again.
Himiko… Himiko, don’t-
But the blood continued, seeping into her body and bringing her heat. She could feel… she could see… how cold the person next to her was becoming.
No… no-! Stop!
Her words were muted, she couldn’t breathe. She couldn’t cry. There was only the heat. She was on fire. Her heart was about to burst. It was too much. It was too much!
She tried to reach out, grab the tube, grab Himiko—before it was too late. But her body wouldn’t move. The air choked from her lungs as she filled with blood. It was in her lungs, bursting from her mouth, blinding her eyes—falling like tears.
Don’t give this to me! She cried, but her screams were silent. Himiko’s smile faded as her body disappeared in the red.
STOP!
Ochako woke to the sound of her own scream, her body shivering in a cold sweat. The darkness around her was suffocating. She gasped, mistaking the sticky sweat for blood and her skin felt like it was crawling. Her breaths came in gasps and she had to get out—anywhere was better than here.
Frantically, she fumbled her way through the darkness, yanking on the door out to her balcony and shoved it open into the night air. She stumbled to her knees, gasps turning into sobs. She bowed her head into the floor, fists shaking against stomach.
Her heart was beating so hard, she felt like it would burst out of her chest. It hurt—it hurt so much. Fear and guilt and pain wracked her to the very core, and she just wanted it to end—just wanted the tears to stop—just wanted to smother it until she didn’t feel anything—just wanted something to… soothe her heart.
She was about as vulnerable as she could be, and yet she grabbed up her phone anyway, frantically typing a single phrase.
— help me
He was there before she could even wonder if he'd gotten her message. Izuku knelt beside her on the balcony, green lightning still crackling around him as his hands gently lifted her off the floor and into his arms. She felt so frail, still gasping, her sobs almost silent. He cradled her to him, stroking her hair.
“It’s okay,” he whispered. “It’s gonna be okay.”
But it wasn’t. She could still feel the blood burning through her, filling her lungs, her throat, choking out her voice and her breath, bursting her veins—and all she could do was lie there and watch as Himiko died-!
So she wept, bitterly, broken and mangled. She should've died. She hated the thought but she knew—she should have died there. It was so much worse… living upon the literal lifeblood of another person. Someone she’d tried so hard to save. She didn’t wish she was dead in the daytime when the sun was warm and she could see the hope for the future—a future where Himiko could’ve lived happier. But in the night, when the blood stained every inch of her—Ochako found that, maybe, she wished she was dead. Or at least, hadn’t survived like that.
Izuku grabbed up her hand and held it against his chest. Ochako’s eyes snapped open.
I’m here, he squeezed her hand firm, pressing it to his heart. Let me help.
Ochako’s silent sobs turned to whispers then. And she cried as she told him those words. Those fears. What she dreamed. All the blood as she drowned in it.
“I wish I hadn’t survived at all,” she gasped, barely a whisper. Her hand grasped to her shirt, feeling the knife pierce through her side once more, the pain sharp and throbbing. “When I dream, when I see it all again, I just… wish I was dead. What’s- what’s wrong with me?!”
But saying those words out loud terrified her—and her spirit knew—she knew it wasn’t true. It was the night talking, the long, bitter, so terribly lonesome night where too many of her thoughts came to call. Where she couldn’t escape.
Izuku grasped her so tight it almost hurt. She could feel a tremble through his body now too. Then he lifted her up and brought her into his lap, curling around her as if he were trying to envelope her entirely, protecting her from this darkness.
Ochako sank into him, her ear pressed to his chest. Her body seemed to go limp after a while, and she took a slow breath as she listened to his heartbeat, beating far more quickly than it should.
I said too much, she thought, her mind starting to clear from the panic. What a horrible burden to give to him… How could I call him in the middle of the night and throw all that onto him?!
“The sun will rise soon,” he breathed, his voice so quiet. “I know that the night feels so long, but I promise the light will come. I promise you.”
Ochako stilled, then lifted herself up to look at him. He touched her cheek, so much love in his scarred fingers. “As long as you’re still here, Ochako, there will always be light.”
She bit her lip as her vision blurred again.
“But,” he continued, tears in his own eyes. “Without you, this world would feel so much darker. I-“
He stroked his thumb across her cheek, tears falling down his face. His voice was barely audible as he spoke. “I don’t think I could ever forgive myself if you’d…”
Ochako let out a long breath, then sank into him as he wrapped his arms around her once more.
“Deku,” she whispered. “Thank you for coming when I needed you. I- Thank you.”
His hands spread over her back, holding her like he was afraid if he let go she would disappear. Then she felt him press a kiss to her hair.
“Always.”
She shut her eyes, letting him hold her as he gently rubbed his hand over her back, soothing her as much as he was able. After a long while, the deep abiding ache in her chest seemed to release, and she no longer felt that heaviness pinning her down and taking her breath. She felt comfort and she felt warmth—not heat and fire like in her dream—but a gentle sunlight on her skin. Not gone, but soothed.
“Izuku,” she whispered.
“Yes?”
She breathed out, relaxing completely, a swooping sigh shifting through her body. “Thank you.”
Ochako relaxed against him, her body sagging and her head lulling against his chest. Her breaths were slower now as sleep finally took her.
Izuku sat with her, cradling her to him, his hands gripping her tight.
Everything she’d said, her dreams… he’d felt despair and terror radiating from her. He wished he could take them from her, lift her burdens, repaint her dreams, but there was nothing he could do.
She wished… she hadn’t survived…?
Izuku thought back to that moment, standing in the water as chaos ensued around them. He remembered the fear he’d felt, seeing a flash of blood as the knife sank into her shoulder. Then she’d looked at him, her determination and resolve shining through in her smile. “I’ll be fine. Trust me,” she’d seemed to say. And he’d wanted that—to trust her. He’d wanted to believe in her, but all the while he felt that fear— What if I leave her… and she doesn’t make it? What if I leave her and I never see her smile again?
If Toga had killed her… if Ochako had died, bled out and left mangled on the battlefield… Izuku knew he would never have recovered. He would’ve never found the will to smile again. Not when he’d stood there, not when he’d willingly left her side. Not when, with his power, he could’ve easily taken out Toga if he’d tried harder…
But she wouldn’t have wanted that, he sighed. Because it wouldn’t have saved that sad, strange girl.
And now Ochako… wished she herself hadn’t returned.
He bowed his head into her hair, holding her sleeping frame close. He had no idea what to do to make this right. No idea how to take such a burden. No idea how to heal her of the immense amount of survivor’s guilt she carried.
He eased her back slightly, cradling her so that he could see her face, laxed now in her sleep. He freed his hand from under her leg and touched her cheek, still damp with her tears.
“You don’t deserve this,” he whispered to her. “You deserve nothing less than perfect happiness, Ochako Uraraka.”
She continued to sleep, her breaths deep.
He sat like that with her for a long time, feeling her warmth. He gazed at her sleeping face, illuminated in the moonlight. She was beautiful, of course. Her soft features softened further by the gentle light—but her cheeks were red and tear-stained, her eyes dark and tired. Misery was laced in her face, and he felt his heart break for her. He gripped her tighter to him, feeling her life within her, her breath upon his face. She was alive, she had survived, and he reminded himself of that again.
Her words haunted him though, and he bit his lip, bowing his head into her.
“Ochako…” he whispered as he began to cry.
Eventually he knew he had to return to his own dorm. So he got his feet underneath him and lifted her up. He carried her through the open balcony door, the curtains billowing out through the glass. He sidestepped them and brought her to her bed.
She rolled easily from his arms, snuggling into the mattress, trying to get comfortable. For that brief moment, his worries subsided as he smiled gently—she was just too adorable. Then the edge of her shirt inched up and he froze, seeing the long, jagged scar marring the skin of her abdomen. Even just seeing a portion of it, he could see the torn edges and the depth of it easily—it looked like a knife had been not just plunged into her, but twisted and sawed at her flesh. The brutality of it was not lost on him.
He’d known already that it was there, what had happened to her, but he’d obviously not seen her scar before—now actually seeing the damage done to her body in conjunction with her emotional wounds, his heart broke all the more. An anger began to rise within him, which he had to consciously tamp down. There was nothing to direct such a response toward, no one left to be angry at. Toga was dead—and she had died to make up for the brutal stabbing she’d inflicted upon Ochako. She had paid her own punishment for it. Ochako was struggling to accept that choice, but seeing her wound now, knowing what Toga had done, had tried and nearly succeeded in doing—he felt… grateful for the justice that girl had taken upon herself to ensure. He didn’t want Toga dead… but he’d rather Ochako live than become a martyr to her own righteous ideals.
Izuku sighed, then gathered her blanket and covered her with it. She snuggled deeper into it, her face completely slack now. He bit his lip, then gently brushed a lock of hair from her face.
“Goodnight, Ochako.”
He stood up to leave, then glanced at the desk adjacent to her bed and frowned, thinking of her words again: “I just wish I was dead…” His heart ached. He could feel the weight of it trying to crush him.
I can’t leave her feeling like that…
He picked up an empty paper and a pen, then he sat and began to write. He pressed a hand to his forehead, writing out his thoughts to her, trying to convey all the words and emotions he needed to. His pen strokes moved across the page for nearly half an hour before he’d finished, giving every phrase deep thought. Then he folded it neatly and wrote her name at the front.
Izuku gave her one last glance, feeling his heart ache once more, then he stepped out to the balcony and returned to his own room.
Ochako woke to the light of sunrise streaming in through her open curtains. She laid in her bed, her blanket draped over her, but she didn’t have on the gloves she usually wore. She wasn’t sure when she’d fallen asleep, but it must’ve been soon after she’d finally stopped crying. The last thing she remembered were Izuku’s arms about her as she laid exhausted against his chest. She could almost feel the rhythm of his heart still there against her ear. He was so warm, so gentle. How could he be so comforting just by existing?
Izuku must’ve brought me to my bed.
Even knowing he wouldn’t be there, part of her wished he’d have stayed. She knew he couldn’t, and would have been mortified if he had—but that part of her wished it anyway. How crazy! But she imagined the gentleness of waking up in the morning with him holding her in the pale light.
Maybe one day, she sighed. But not now.
She looked around at the sunlit room and let out a long breath, grateful morning had finally come, putting to bed her dark thoughts and dreams of blood and death—resting until the hurt came to be unbearable once more...
Her eyes stopped at her desk, seeing a folded up piece of paper that she hadn't left there. Ochako stood from her bed and picked it up, seeing her name written neatly on the top in Izuku’s handwriting.
Ochako blinked, feeling her heart flutter with multiple different emotions, but her fear of being known did not want to read this—not after what he’d witnessed and heard her say last night. But even just looking at it, knowing he’d lingered here and taken time to write something for her, She could feel his love through that simple action alone.
So she sat and opened his letter, trying to be brave.
Ochako,
Thank you for reaching out to me. To think of you sitting here hurting while I had no idea… I’m glad you told me. I’m glad I could give you some comfort, at the very least. I hope you sleep better after I leave.
I meant what I said—every word of it. Even when it feels like there’s nothing but darkness around you, there will always be light. That’s one of the lessons I’ve learned along the way—and I learned that from you. You, standing on the top of UA, became my light, my hope for the future where we all could smile again. You guided me out of that darkness I couldn’t escape from by myself. Even after everything our friends said to me—even as dear as I hold those things—I was not going to stay until I heard the words you spoke on my behalf.
I understand what it’s like to be brought down by despair. I feel it too. My own heart often feels heavy, and my nightmares feel unending. But they do end. And with every action we take, we step into a brighter future. I know it hurts that Himiko Toga can’t live in this future as you hoped she could. I understand—I wanted the same for Tenko. But she was so moved by you and your light that she saved you instead. Remember what her face looked like in the end. You did save her. And she saved you and that was her choice—I know it hurts, but I’m so grateful she did. I’m so grateful that you’re alive, Ochako. And I know that Himiko Toga is too. She wouldn’t have saved you otherwise.
So live, Ochako. Live and always look for the light. It will always be there, no matter how dark it feels. Please don’t give up. I’m right here with you. And I love you with all my heart.
Izuku
P.S. I’m glad you were able to text me. I’m proud of you!
Izuku, Ochalo thought, feeling such overwhelming love from this wonderful boy.
A couple drops fell onto the paper as she read, and she wiped her eyes again. She sighed and hugged the paper to her chest.
My Deku.