#ochako.

[inkbonds]

@thelxinoem told me to write her 4 starters so I’m proving my devotion

     “––– H-hey!! Shinsou-kun, was it?”

     She can’t help but stop him when their paths cross in the cafeteria, him with a tray already in hand and her on her way to Lunch Rush’s counter. With a single hand raised in slightly awkward greeting, Ochako gives a little wave to the other student.

     “Ah, you don’t know me, but I just wanted to say – I thought you were really cool during the Sports Festival!! I’m rooting for you!!”

[inkbonds]

heated encounters. || @implosiveexplosive

@implosiveexplosive

     The bell rings, announcing the end of another period and bringing about the shuffling of chairs and bags and amiable chatter as their lunch break begins. Following the call of her growling stomach, Ochako reaches for her own backpack, digging around for a moment for today’s lunch. She brought pork buns today, left over from yesterday’s dinner, and she’s just musing about how much better they would taste if they were steaming hot when the ruckus starts.

     It’s hard to say what’s gotten him to explode this time, but no one in class is surprised to find Deku at the receiving end of Bakugo’s anger once again. The poor guy couldn’t help but flinch when Bakugo suddenly looms over his chair in that in-your-face way of his, his voice almost drowning out the fire crackling at the tips of his fingers. They’re at it again, Ochako thinks with a sigh and gets up from her seat to see if she can do something about it. Really, will those two ever get along? Bakugo really ought to get a grip on his anger, especially when it comes to Deku – at least that’s her opinion on the matter.

     It’s when she’s almost close enough to reach out and touch the blond that she remembers the small bag of pork buns still in her grasp, and in a stunning flash of genius ( or idiocy ) she finds the most surprising way to diffuse the situation –––

     ––– pushing a pork bun right into one of his hands. 

[inkbonds]

at point blank. || @implosiveexplosive

@implosiveexplosive

     "Stop right there, villain!!”

     Ochako’s heart is pounding as she gains on her target, ready to move in close and put some of Gunhead’s techniques to the test. She’ll have to be careful, though – so far she hasn’t seen him use his quirk, which places an unknown advantage on his side.

     To think she’d witness a robbery in broad daylight, though – villains really are becoming more gutsy by the day. 

     Backed into a dead end street, the robber comes to a halt and whirls around to face her, assuming a fighting stance. His narrowed eyes seem to pierce through her with palpable force, and momentarily she worries that his quirk may be a variation of Aizawa-sensei’s. 

     But no –– with a window-rattling shout, Bakugo bursts into the scene a moment later, propelled forward by controlled explosions; it’s a surefire sign that no quirks have been erased thus far. He launches himself straight over her head, landing a few paces away from her and much closer to the villain, who stares at her for just a few moments longer before suddenly whipping his head around and glaring at the charging Bakugo who by now is mere inches away from him.

     It happens in an instant.

     Between one blink and another, the world around her shifts its angle entirely. Ochako hasn’t moved an inch, but suddenly her entire perspective is wrong and she almost loses her balance. A heavy wave of dizziness crashes down on her, forcing her to close her eyes and press a hand to her face in a helpless attempt to ground herself. It all feels weird somehow, as if the proportions are off and her face is a cottony, tingly mess – and then with a startling crackle, tiny sparks flare up against her cheek and she flinches back so violently that she finds herself disoriented when she opens her eyes wide to comprehend the source.

     That is not her hand.

     Flabbergasted, she stares at the too large limb clad in a padded glove and the crazy-sized hand grenade attached to the forearm. Bakugo’s forearm.

     “Wha--?!” Oh god, and that’s not her voice. Panic-stricken, she whips her ( Bakugo’s??? ) head around to look at where she’s supposed to be standing, and –– there she is. Or, well, her body. Similarly disoriented, from the looks of it, but moving, too. She doesn’t quite think that this is what people mean when they talk about out-of-body experiences. Oh God, her costume really is way too form-fitting.

     This must be the villain’s quirk, no doubt about it – and now he’s nowhere to be seen. Ochako swallows down the desire to curse. Their target must have made a run for it while they were trying to reorientate themselves. Darn it. 

     However, if this is what she thinks it is, and if she’s in Bakugo’s body, then there’s only one logical explanation as to where Bakugo is. 

     “B-bakugo?” She asks, voice shaky and uncertain and way too low and rough to feel right in any way. In fact, she’s painfully aware of how foreign and wrong Bakugo’s voice sounds infused with that intonation – it gives her the most unpleasant of tingles. “I ... think the villain escaped ...”

[inkbonds]

of heroes and martyrs. // @dckv

“So please ... keep smiling. Society needs smiles, laughter and energy to bring about a brighter future.”

     The words are so faint that Ochako barely hears them, but they bring forth an ache in her chest unlike any other she has ever experienced. From where she stands leaned against the wall right next to the doors outside Sir Nighteye’s room, there is no need to look inside to know what’s transpiring on the other side. The high-pitched beeping noise that begins to stretch on just moments after the pro hero’s last words fade away hits harder than any visual feedback could have done, and Ochako bites her quivering lip so hard she tastes blood as the tears fall freely from her round face. A heart-wrenching whimper escapes her, mingling with the agonized cries from within the room before her hand comes up to cover her mouth, stifling the worst of the sobs tearing from her throat. 

     It’s not fair, she thinks helplessly, trying in vain to control her erratic breathing. He didn’t deserve to die! 

     She sinks to the ground, pulling her knees to her chest and burying her face in them. Her shoulders shake as the sobs rock her body. All the while her mind keeps replaying the events of the day, running in circles with questions of guilt and responsibility. Perhaps if she had been quicker, if they had been more careful, if someone had thought to call an ambulance on standby – perhaps Sir Nighteye could have been saved. But they had failed – she had failed. And now the world lost one of the best pro heroes, All Might lost a friend and Togata his dear mentor. 

     Nighteye’s words echo in her head, and she forces her lips to stretch into a watery smile, more of a quivering grimace than anything else, as gradually her sobs calm down. She owes it to this man to at least try and heed his last request, and she is going to do her damn best. She failed to save him, so the least she can do is honor him.

     She sits there on the cold tiled floor as the minutes stretch on, sniffling quietly every now and then and slowly regaining her composure – and then there are footsteps and her heart jumps. Suddenly she feels put on the spot, realizing at once how she had involuntarily eavesdropped on an intimate moment and made herself look like a fool – but there is nothing she can do about it now. 

     Mirio exits first, urged gently by a nurse to return to his room; they turn the other way without looking at their surroundings and fail to notice Ochako sitting by the door. The next to come out is a visibly downcast Deku, who spots her almost immediately. The tears have drawn wet streaks across his cheeks, mirroring hers as she peers up at him with reddened eyes. 

     “Deku ...” She wants to cringe at the sound of her voice, rough and croaky and pitiful, breaking at the last syllable. Any words that could follow fail her, so she just looks at him, taking in his state and the way he holds himself. He’s unharmed, she realizes, and relief renews the flow of tears down rose-tinted cheeks. Hastily, she gets to her feet, using the wall for support yet still almost stumbling in the process. Then, without another word, she reaches out to him and pulls him into a tight embrace.

@dckv

[inkbonds]

game on! // @dckv

     “So ... uhm ... how did the controls work again?”

     They are sitting in the lounge of their dorm building, settled in comfortably among the cushions of the huge couch while the expensive flatscreen on the wall directly across from them flashes in bright colors. To the sound of upbeat 8 bit music, Ochako frowns down at the controller in her hands, trying to remember the commands Deku rattled off to her only minutes ago. He’d been so quick in listing them all ( hardly pausing to breathe in between, really ) that she’d had trouble keeping up, so now that they are actually starting the game, she doesn’t quite recall most of them. 

     “A for a punch, B– no wait, control stick up for a jump? And ... umm ... using the quirk was where, again?” Oh, she’s so lost. After all, it isn’t like she has played this game before. Or any console game, for that matter. The controller feels foreign in her hands, and the fact that she doesn’t quite know which button is where yet doesn’t make it easier to remember the battle combinations Deku mentioned. 

     “Sorry I’m so slow ...” she mumbles sheepishly, rubbing the back of her neck with one hand. “Maybe we could just enter a game and I’ll just take a moment to test it out, or something? Would that work?”

@dckv