Operation: Don't Let Them Know

It Started With a Bruise

Late evening. U.A. Dorms. Common Room.

The dorm lights had dimmed to their sleepy amber glow, humming gently overhead like even the building was winding down. Most students were already in their rooms, either studying, scrolling, or snoring into their pillows. But the common room still breathed with late-night warmth—muted TV static, microwave beeps from the kitchen, the quiet hum of a world that hadn't quite fallen asleep yet.

Ochako padded in barefoot, cradling her phone and rubbing her thigh with a little hiss of pain. Her training match with Bakugo had ended... explosively. Literally.

She'd dodged the first two blasts. The third sent her flying backward, straight into the dirt. No broken bones, no broken pride—just a deeply offended bruise and a sense of injustice.

Still, she was proud of how hard she'd pushed. Right up until the bruise started throbbing like it owed rent.

She flopped onto the couch with a very un-heroic groan.
"Uggghhh... I think I have a Bakugo-shaped mark on my soul..."

"Do you want some help with that?" a voice said—surprisingly close.

Ochako startled and peeked over the back of the couch.

There he was—Izuku, looking soft and sleepy in his oversized All Might hoodie, a towel slung over his neck, notebook tucked under his arm, and that signature sweet smile. The one that turned her brain to mashed potatoes.

He walked over, cautious but earnest. "I mean—not that you need help! Obviously! You're incredibly capable, and you probably already know R.I.C.E protocol for muscle recovery—"

She raised an eyebrow, trying not to smile. "Are you offering first-aid... or giving me a lecture, Nurse Midoriya?"

Izuku flushed. "Both?"

Ochako giggled, patting the couch cushion beside her. "Then sit, Doctor. My thigh demands justice."

As he fumbled around in the dorm's mini freezer and grabbed the ice pack, Ochako winced again and pushed up her pajama shorts just enough to expose the bruised area. 

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INSIDE HER HEAD – "OCHAKO HQ"

Welcome to the Mind-Dome™, where multiple chaos goblins live rent-free and provide full-time commentary on Ochako Uraraka's emotional state. Currently in session:

💗 LOVE-CHAKO (wearing pink heart sunglasses, swooning): "He ran to us like a knight in soft green armor. We're in love."
🧠 LOGIC-CHAKO (clipboard, glasses, deeply stressed): "It's just a bruise. He's checking for injury. DO NOT FLIRT BACK."
💥 FIGHT-CHAKO (punching gloves, yelling at everyone): "KISS HIM FOR MEDICAL RESEARCH."
🎭 DRAMA-CHAKO (feather boa, sobbing into a tissue): "What if we die from this bruise and never tell him we love him?"
🍋 SPICE-CHAKO (wearing a leather jacket, sipping bubble tea with a suggestive straw): "Let him touch the bruise. See what happens."

Back in reality, Ochako somehow managed to keep her cool despite the civil war inside her own brain.

Izuku settled beside her with the precision of someone handling dynamite, lowering the ice pack onto her skin with gentle, barely-there pressure.

"This okay?" he asked softly.

She nodded, suddenly hyperaware of everything. His hand, warm and calloused. His knee brushing hers. The way his hair curled at the ends when it was damp. The subtle minty scent of his body wash.

His eyes were locked on her bruise with intense focus. "You took that explosion like a pro," he muttered. "Seriously, that counter you did with your momentum—that was brilliant."

"I landed on my face," she reminded him.

Izuku's mouth twitched. "A brilliant faceplant, then."

Inside her head...

🎭 DRAMA-CHAKO: "HE CALLED YOU BRILLIANT. THE WEDDING IS NEXT WEEK."
💗 LOVE-CHAKO: "Play 'Can You Feel the Love Tonight' softly."
💥 FIGHT-CHAKO: "SHOOT YOUR SHOT. LIFT HIS HAND. FLIRT. NOW."
🧠 LOGIC-CHAKO: "No. You will die of embarrassment. You are not emotionally stable for this."
🍋 SPICE-CHAKO: "He's touching your thigh. Do with that what you will."

"Training was intense today," Ochako said aloud, voice quieter now. "Everyone's getting stronger so fast. It's exciting but... also kind of terrifying, y'know?"

Izuku looked up, surprised. He nodded slowly. "Yeah. I feel it too."

There was a pause. Not awkward, just heavy with something that had been sitting unspoken between them for a while.

Ochako glanced down at her lap, playing with the hem of her shirt. "I know it's silly, but sometimes I feel like I'm chasing everyone else's shadow. Like I'm always a step behind."

Izuku's voice was gentle, low. "You're not silly. And you're definitely not behind."

She looked up. His eyes were soft and glowing in the low light, his voice steady and sure. "You're not just strong, Ochako. You're inspiring. Every time I watch you fight or train, I think—there she goes again, doing the impossible."

Inside her head...

💗 LOVE-CHAKO: "OH GOD HE MEANT THAT."
🎭 DRAMA-CHAKO: "This is our confession scene. Someone cue the rain."
🧠 LOGIC-CHAKO: "Please remain calm while the brain reboots due to overload."
🍋 SPICE-CHAKO: "Ask him to kiss you. DO IT. DOOOOO IT—"

She didn't say anything. Instead, slowly—so slowly—she reached out and brushed her fingers against his.

He stilled.

She didn't pull back. And neither did he.

Their fingers curled together.

They were close now. Breath-close. Knee-touching, hand-holding, time-stopping kind of close.

"Izuku," she whispered.

He looked at her—nervous, hopeful, and oh-so-soft. "Yeah?"

"I... really like you."

His lips parted like he was going to say something profound, or maybe just scream a little inside like she was—but neither of them got the chance.

BANG. A door slammed. Kaminari yelled something about "LEFTOVER TAKOYAKI!" and Bakugo shouted, "IF YOU TOUCH MY FOOD YOU DIE."

Both of them jumped like they'd been tasered.

Ochako immediately yanked her hand back like she'd touched a hot stove.
Izuku panicked and dropped the ice pack, sending it sliding dramatically across the table.

"I—uh—well—that was—" she stammered, standing up like the couch had betrayed her.

"I forgot—I have to—note things—in my notebook!" Izuku shouted, bolting upright.

They stood there, both red-faced, looking anywhere but at each other. Then:

She smiled. Wide, honest, unfiltered. "Thanks, Izuku. For... being really good at bruises."

And before her courage ran out, she darted in and kissed his cheek.

He made the noise of a man who had briefly forgotten how to live.

She giggled, then turned and hurried toward the hallway, half-floating.

Izuku stood there for a full ten seconds, stunned. Then he sat down again and pressed a hand over the cheek she kissed, whispering like it might fly away:

"I think I'm in love with her."