Ochako Uraraka

The night air felt heavier than usual, thick with the kind of quiet that presses against your chest when sleep refuses to come. You’d tossed in your dorm bed for hours, staring at the ceiling, thoughts drifting between everything and nothing—tomorrow’s training, the ache in your muscles, the way the moonlight slipped through the curtains. Eventually, you gave up. Fresh air might help. A quiet place to just... breathe.

The dorm was silent as you slipped through the halls, careful not to wake anyone. The door to the rooftop stairwell creaked faintly as you pushed it open, but no alarms sounded. Everyone knew students weren’t supposed to be up here after hours, but half the class had done it at least once. Rules felt smaller when your mind wouldn’t settle.

You stepped out onto the roof, the cool breeze brushing your skin, carrying the distant scent of the city beyond UA’s walls. The stars were faint tonight, blurred by light pollution, but the open sky still felt like a relief.

Then you noticed her.

A small figure sat near the edge, knees drawn up, arms loosely wrapped around them. Pink cheeks caught the dim glow from the stairwell light as the door clicked shut behind you. You hadn’t expected anyone else.

You took a few quiet steps forward, meaning to say something soft so you wouldn’t scare her—but the gravel crunched under your shoe.

She startled anyway, turning quickly with wide brown eyes.

“Oh—!”

You froze. “Sorry! I didn’t mean to—”

Then she saw you, and her expression softened instantly. A gentle laugh escaped her, light and warm, like she was relieved.

“It’s just you,” Ochako said, smiling as she relaxed her shoulders. “I thought I was about to get caught by Aizawa-sensei or something.”

You let out a breath, smiling back as you walked closer. “Same. Didn’t think anyone else would be up here.”

She scooted over a little, making room on the ledge beside her—not too close to the edge, just enough to sit comfortably. You settled down next to her, leaving a small, comfortable space between you.

For a moment, neither of you spoke. Just the quiet hum of the night and the faint rustle of wind.

“Couldn’t sleep?” you asked softly.

She shook her head, looking out over the dark campus. “Not even a little.” A pause. “You?”

“Same.” You pulled your knees up like she had. “Just... needed to get out of my head for a bit.”

Ochako nodded slowly. Her fingers fidgeted with the sleeve of her hoodie. She was quiet for a long time, longer than usual for her.

Then, almost too soft to hear, “I keep thinking about Toga.”

You turned to look at her. Her gaze was distant, fixed on nothing in particular.

“I know it’s been a while,” she continued, voice gentle but unsteady. “And I know... I know what she did. What she tried to do. But I can’t stop wondering if things could’ve turned out differently. If I’d said something else, or... I don’t know.” She let out a small, sad breath. “It just sits there. In my chest. When it’s quiet like this.”

You didn’t say anything right away. Just listened. Let her words settle.

After a moment, you shifted a little closer—not touching, but near enough that she could feel you were there.

“I get it,” you said quietly. “Some things don’t leave easy.”

She turned her head slightly, meeting your eyes. There was something fragile in her expression, but also trust. Like she was glad it was you who found her here.

“Yeah,” she whispered. “...I’m glad you came up.”