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Gradually, it became easier to admit that there was always a pulsing line between Uraraka and Toga, drawing them together and repelling them like magnets. They understood each other, somehow, and through that something else was forged, something deceiving of their society- assigned natures.
And it's not hard to admit that ever since she died, a part of Uraraka died with her.
That’s not how Uraraka wants their story to start- she had so many better memories with her, ones that didn’t end with blood streaked hands.
Well, in actuality, she might not- with Toga came blood, always had a layer of blood under her fingernails, tightening her skin on her hands. When they first met, she even smelt like that. But that meant that Ochako held her hands as she washed the pink substance down the sink. That meant that she lent Toga a jumper so she didn’t smell like blood on the train home.
Their first kiss, oddly enough, was floral. They were giggling over perfumes in the mall one Saturday, spriting little dashes on wrists and necks. Toga caught Uraraka staring when she tilted her neck, holding the little golden bottle up to her neck, and smiled at her, sharp teeth on display.
Uraraka smiled back, tentatively, and her perfume bottle floated in between them.
It wasn’t easy at first. It took a lot of unwrapping to see Toga as a girl , like her. But she couldn’t deny a part of her had always been intrigued by the other guy, even without the strange tension between her and Deku. Toga was childish and blunt, she was flighty and frivolous, but there was a quality to her Uraraka got somehow. Maybe it was the fact that despite her flightiness, she always did the most she could, and she went on, even if she was outmatched on all sides.
Anyone could like that quality in a person, Uraraka argued. But it still didn’t explain why she kept letting Himiko talk her into hanging out, why she let Himiko into her dorm room, why her eyes couldn’t leave her without a fight.
In moments like those, it was almost easy to forget about the whole villain thing.
Almost.
“Take it back,” Uraraka scolded. “Now. And say you’re sorry.”
“But Ochako-chan,” Toga whined. “I don’t have any money, and it smelt so good- and look, I already opened it!”
“You only broke the seal,” Uraraka said, folding her arms. “Besides, I… I understand stealing when it’s a last resort,” she was trying to, anyways, at Toga’s insistence- “but that’s a small business! They’re not very rich either!”
Toga pouted. “It’s only one.”
Uraraka shot her an unamused look, hitching up her leg warmer over her sneakers. “If you take it back, I’ll buy you another one.”
Toga’s eyes lit up and she began running back to the shop. “C’mon Uraraka, you’re paying!”
Uraraka shook her head but followed, apologizing to the passersby and laughing helplessly. How Toga ran so fast in such high shoes mystified her.
She ended up buying Toga the same perfume.
The sky was fading into a startling purple as the sun set over the horizon, resting behind Toga as she took her spot on the roof of the mall like she had several times before. Uraraka’s palms were sweaty and sticky from the colored chocolate candies clutched in her palm that they shared.
She still couldn’t believe how easy it was to be with her. Sure, they were two train rides over, under the guise Uraraka was visiting her parents and Toga was doing whatever she wanted, but it was still extremely jarring. It was like they were two normal girls.
Uraraka liked being two normal girls. She loved being a hero, and helping people, but another part of her couldn’t help but too indulge the fantasy that that’s all they were, and everything Uraraka felt for Toga was simple, untouched by hero society and the like.
Toga didn’t seem to mind it either. Her legs swung, heavy shoes scraping on the pavement as she chattered to Uraraka about her roommates.
“- so smelly,” Toga wrinkled her nose. “I can barely make out their blood. I think they do it on purpose.”
“I couldn’t live with a bunch of boys,” Uraraka said, then reconsidered. Was it appropriate to call the most wanted individuals in the country ‘boys’?
“Oh, they’re not so bad! Could do with less daddy issues, but they keep their hands to themselves.” Toga winks.
Uraraka huffed. “Well, that sounds much better than my dorm. Daddy issues and some of the boys need to learn the last part.”
“I’ll kill them for you,” Toga said immediately.
Uraraka paused. Why did the offer make her feel hot? “Toga,” she scolded. “You can’t say that. Especially not you, because it’s you.”
“Because it’s you ,” Toga refuted. “You don’t have to take it.”
“It’s mostly a joke,” Uraraka said helplessly.
“Don’t say it’s a joke,” Toga said, looking down. “They’ll think it’s funny. They’ll keep doing it.”
Uraraka gulped. “Your hands are shaking.”
“All the better to hold you with, my dear,” Toga said, eyes not meeting her smile.
“I’m sorry,” Ochako said. She ventured closer, cupping Toga’s face in her hands. “I didn’t know- I’m sorry that that’s… something has happened to you. Like that.”
Toga stared at her until it’s too much, and she closes in on herself, pulling her knees to her mouth. “I don’t like talking about it,” she said. “I don’t-”
“You don’t have to,” Ochako said. “Just- don’t hide from me.”
“I couldn’t,’ Toga said lowly. “You always see me.”
“You always see me.”
She kneeled, slipping her hands into Toga’s. Toga avoided eye contact, but her thumbs close over Uraraka’s. Uraraka leans up, so that she can look into Toga’s eyes. There’s something foreign in them, something she’s never seen before. Toga’s eyes meet hers, and dart down. The corner of her mouth shakes, and Uraraka realizes she’s looking. She realizes Toga sees her looking, and that all she would ever have to do is…lean up.
She wondered, briefly, if Toga would taste like blood if she was to take that chance. The thought isn’t completely unappealing.
She leaned up, hesitantly. Toga’s hands shook in hers, and let go. Then, there were arms around her neck, and she’s crowding up, her hands on the bench, on either side of Toga as they kissed.
She smelt like the perfume Ochako bought her. She tastes like the blossoms drawn onto it’s side.
“Oh,” Tog gasped, when Ochako’s nose bumps into hers. “I knew you would taste good.”
Ochako huffed to combat her blush. “Well, you taste like flowers. Were you drinking the perfume?”
Toga blushed. “You’re so cute, Ochako-kun.”
Ochako could feel her cheeks flush hotly, the tips of her ears burning. “Shut up,” she said, leaning back up.
Toga grinned and tightened her arms around Ochako’s neck. “Do you like it? Is that why you’re kissing me again?”
“It’s not awful,” Ochako breathed, and connected their lips again. This time, Toga tilted her head as Ochako pressed closer. She should have known Toga wouldn’t be satiated with simple lip to lip, and she welcomed her tongue, opening her own mouth as a soft whimper escaped Himiko.
Ochako’s knees ached, and her arms did from supporting her weight, but she couldn’t even think of moving. All she could think about was the weight of Toga’s arms around her neck, the sweet glide of her lips, the music they made.
Toga had never been so tender, so small. She was fragile and unsure, like a baby deer. Uraraka took the chance to imprint herself on this new her, to show her how much she really did care. They wrapped each other in each other, and Uraraka couldn’t possibly think of parting, but it needed to be said.
“I… I think I love you,” Uraraka said. “I don’t understand it, but I know I’d do anything for you.”
Toga’s eyes are big. Bigger than her plate, the phrase randomly comes to mind. “Anything?”
“Anything.”
“Would you let me steal?”
She was honest. “Yes.”
“Would you let me get away with it?”
“Yes.”
“What if I wanted your blood?”
Uraraka’s heart jumps in her chest. “Then you could have it.”
“You don’t mean that.”
“I do,” Uraraka smiled, leaning forward to look into Toga’s eyes. “I’d let you have all of me. Forever.”
“Why?” Toga’s knees are shaking. “Why are you saying this?”
“Because I know you understand me, and I want to understand you. Will you let me in? Would you?”
Could she?
Toga’s eyes were wide, and her mouth fell open. “Ochako…” she said, and in a single motion, she pulled Uraraka from her position, to kneeling next to on the roof Toga wrapped her arms around her in a hug, tight and full of things she didn’t know how to say. Ochako maneuvered to tuck Toga’s head into her neck. She trusts her. Bite, but it won’t change anything.
Toga doesn’t bite. Her mouth is close enough to Uraraka’s ear so Uraraka can hear her words loud and clear when she speaks.
“I love you to death,” Toga whispered. She nestled in further to Uraraka’s grasp before continuing. “So you’d better mean it.”
Uraraka’s heart skipped a beat. She couldn’t nod quickly enough.
–
And in the cruelest nature, Uraraka is still kneeling over Toga on a rooftop when it all cascades and collapses. Below them, a war on the city streets. It doesn’t matter. Uraraka has been through thousands, seen millions. She has been in to many dog-fights, and at the end of the day, this will breed nothing new, the same hurt victims and the same victorious heroes. A cycle.
But Toga… Toga is everything else. Toga is the sun and the moon. Toga is the stars, and Uraraka is flying up to meet them, but she can’t, and they’re on the rooftop, and Toga is hurt .
“Please,” Toga begs hoarsely, tears falling down her blood crusted cheeks. “I don't want to be alive anymore. Please.”
Uraraka chokes out a sob, hands shaking at her mouth. “Don’t ask me to do that, Himko, please, don’t ask me-”
“You said you’d do anything, Ochako-kun,” Toga cries softly, corners of her mouth trembling as she tries to smile. “So do this.”
And she knows that Uraraka meant it when she said she’d do anything for her. Uraraka knows it. So Uraraka agrees, insides screaming.
Toga holds out her hand, and Uraraka is reminded of a simpler time, not so much simpler, but kinder. Rooftop to rooftop, hand in hand, mouth to mouth.
But now, there's a dagger in her bloody fist. Her knuckles bleed red and it's so bad and gruesome that Uraraka falls to her palms, breathing heavily, trying to get a grip .
The war rages on, beneath them.
“Please Ochako,” Toga whines. And who's ever going to say her name like that? “It hurts, it hurts so much,”
“I know, I know baby,” Uraraka consoles shakingly. She pulls herself up and takes the dagger, if not to comfort her and her hand nearly falls with the weight of it all.
“Don't be weak now,” Toga coughs. “Just stick it in and pull out really quick.” She tries to laugh, despite herself. Blood bubbles out of her mouth.
Uraraka can’t look away from her, unshed tears burning her eyes “Oh Himiko, aren't you scared?”
“I'm so scared Ochako-kun,” Toga says with a trembling smile. “If I didn't laugh, I'd be terrified.”
“I'm scared too Himiko,” Uraraka cries. “I'm so scared. I can’t- I need you.”
“It'll be okay,” Toga consoles, then breaks off with a rattling, repulsive cough. “You’ll be okay, Ochako. You’re so good… and I know you’ll do good. But me… I couldn’t- I could never…”
“You’re the best person I know,” Uraraka cries, wiping her eyes. “Don’t say these things, you’re everything, everything to me, Himiko.”
Toga’s smile trembles. “Oh… Ochako…” her expression changes. “ Please .”
“Maybe there’s still a way,” Uraraka blurts desperately, even though she knows that there’s not. “You could go to a hospital, and then,” she pauses, not because of Toga, but because she doesn’t know what would happen after that. Would Toga go to prison? No, Uraraka would fight tooth and nail against it. Maybe they could escape. Yes, escape, go to a brand new city, a brand new life, with no heroes and no league, only two girls who are able to love each other fully and wholeheartedly, two girls who never had to be uncertain of the world, because they would have it all. “And then we could go away,” she whispers.
She can’t do this.
“That would be nice,” Toga says with a dreamy smile, even though it twinges at the corner “J-just me and my Ochako-kun,”
“Forever and always,” Uraraka vows. Her fingers tighten around the handle of the dagger.
Toga hiccups, and even though her face is a mess of tears and blood, grime and dirt, Uraraka has never seen anyone more lovely, more eternal, even though Toga is dying and Uraraka could never do anything about it.
“It hurts so bad,” Toga gasps out. “I don’t want to be alive like this,”
Crocodile tears slip free. Toga has always been hurt, has always been in pain, and finally, there’s something Uraraka can do to end it and she can’t . “I’m here, Himiko,” Uraraka trembles, but she brushes her blonde hair back, and tightens her grip.
“I’ve got you,” reassured Uraraka. Toga’s shaking hand reached out for her face, solidifying Uraraka's frantic assurances. I’ve got you.
And then, in a cold. cruel motion, she didn’t.
Toga’s hand falls from her face.
—
Uraraka haunts the world. It should be Toga, but it seems like when she died, everything that reminded Uraraka of her did too. It’s like she died and took all of the vibrancy out of the world, out of Uraraka. And to leave so cruelly, at her own hands.
Wasn’t she who killed Toga? The hero society, the heroes, the damaging effect of their stardom. The creation of the heroes that invited the villains. That created the villains?
And then to put her out of the suffering she put her in herself. There is nobody on Earth who could understand the conflict she’s living with. Nobody on Earth who could put the red back in her cheeks, who could fit their hand into hers.
The first time they kissed, Toga said she loved her to death. Uraraka clings to the sentiment as the world keeps going.
She can’t keep on doing this, she realizes in the middle of class. She has nothing here, anymore. All of her friends don’t know her, don’t know who she loved, how she loved. They don’t know why Uraraka won’t laugh or smile anymore. Uraraka can’t keep existing in this world, knowing what she does. Loving who she did.
She stands up, shoulders her bag, then reconsiders. The bag drops to the ground, attracting the attention of the class, Aizawa.
“Uraraka, is something wrong?” Aizawa asks.
She feels in itch in her nose. How can she explain and justify the everything thats wrong? It’s the right question, but weeks too late.
She walks out of the class. She ignores the sparse voices that rise up. She hears the heavy door slam behind her. She can’t believe how easy it is. Nobody objects, nobody asks ‘what-do-you-think-you’re-doing-young-lady’, she pushes the doors open and the sun hits her face.
She goes back to the rooftop, where she and Toga kissed for the first time. She can’t remember the floral scent Toga held, and the loss of it is enough to bring tears to her eyes. On her knees, she clambers to the edge, where they kissed, where the world couldn’t touch them.
They could have a good life. They could have escaped. They could have had a good life. Two girls, against the world, for each other.
She wasn’t a good person, Uraraka thinks, trying to stop herself before she goes too hard down that thought train. I loved her, but she wanted the blood of innocents.
This thought doesn’t console her. If anything, it only makes her feel worse. Toga was hurt . She was victimized, abused, taken advantage of. Uraraka remembers the light in her eyes when she talked about Stain, the adoring lilt to her voice when she explained what he was trying to say. She loved wholly, she loved Uraraka like no one in her life ever had before. And she was good , at the heart of it.
Stain wasn’t a good person. But he connected to people who were hurt. People like Toga, who just wanted a place to belong. Uraraka understands that. She wanted that too. She wanted to do good.
She still wants to do good.
Uraraka lowers her head on the bench, tears brimming in her eyes.
None of it was fair. Toga was dead, she was hurt, and she made Uraraka better. Uraraka wanted to save her. She wanted to help her, she loved her, and she may have been the only person in the world who understood her and was understood in return, all those fucked-up dreams and the dedication and the fact that everytime they were knocked down, they got back up.
Until they didn’t.
Love was the most terrible thing in the world.
She thought devotion was what connected them, what made her see Toga for who she really was, but in retrospect… devotion was a damnation. Devotion rests inside her, hollow, a shell of who she once loved.
Uraraka stood slowly, staring down the city in the distance. The bustle, vibrating the cement, the flickering lights. The impassiveness of the entirety of that beast.
Toga once said not a single hero really cared. Well, Uraraka will make them care. She’ll make them care, like she does, but this time, she’ll spare them the shell in her soul, the loss she bears.
No, that will be hers and hers alone. Their love story, silent and holy, witnessed by no other but the loving sun, will be her blood, her motivation, her fever.
All else is an afterthought.