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Ochako woke up very sweaty.
It wasn’t her own sweat though, and the thought made her want to gag. As a pro hero she was very accustomed to dealing with sweat, but for some reason the feeling of Himiko’s damp thigh pressed against her made Ochako’s stomach twist.
Ochako sighed, carefully detaching herself and wincing as their skin stuck together. Himiko was like an octopus while she slept, always finding a way to latch onto Ochako at night even on the rare occasions they fell asleep on opposite sides of the bed. It usually wasn’t a problem, in fact Ochako found it quite endearing, but it was rather unpleasant when Himiko turned into a human sauna.
At the late hour, it took an embarrassingly long time for Ochako to question why Himiko was so sweaty. It was the middle of winter and their apartment was always kept at a cool temperature as per Ochako’s request—what started as a habit to keep the heating bill down just became a preference.
Himiko let out the quietest whimper and Ochako’s face burned with shame. She watched in weary sympathy as Himiko turned her head and frowned in her sleep, her whole body pulled taut as she fought through a nightmare.
Himiko rarely suffered with nightmares anymore, but she used to have them frequently. Ochako hadn’t been dating her while they were at their peak, that was back when she’d still been undergoing rehabilitation and Himiko’s therapist prodded her mind enough to force all the negative memories to the surface, but Ochako experienced them enough to know it was best to wake up Himiko before it got any worse.
Sometimes Himiko lashed out when she was really scared. Ochako made that mistake when she tiredly shook her awake the first time, and Himiko’s guilty face when Ochako nursed a sore nose was enough of a motivator not to do it again.
The punch to the face was a good reminder to be gentle too.
“Himiko,” Ochako whispered, sitting upright and leaning against the headboard.
She pulled off her mittens and tossed them on the floor to deal with later, eager to get the thick fabric away from her clammy hands. She wiped them on the comforter with a wince, flexing her fingers once she was done for good measure. She reached out and brushed Himiko’s bangs out of her eyes, parting them down the middle in the dorky way that usually made Ochako laugh.
She couldn’t laugh while Himiko was upset though. She pushed it back into place and ran her hands through the rest of Himiko’s hair as she tried whispering again.
It was amazing how Himiko’s hair managed to stay so silky even after tossing and turning in bed. Himiko started wearing it down a lot more frequently, and Ochako loved it much more than she cared to admit. She spent countless hours braiding Himiko’s hair over and over again just to revel in the way the hair felt in between Ochako’s fingers.
Ochako ran a finger under Himiko’s fluttering eye, her grazing touch drifting by like a leaf in the breeze. It was fleeting and gentle, but it was enough to make Himiko shift again.
“Himiko, wake up,” Ochako whispered again, tracing her nose next. She pressed down a little more firmly with her finger pad until Himiko’s bright eyes finally snapped open.
“Ochako,” she gasped.
Ochako pursed her lips and pulled on Himiko’s shoulders until she could fold Himiko into her embrace—sweat be damned.
Himiko shook terribly, her whole body vibrating now that she was back in the world of the waking. Her thin frame felt especially delicate and breakable whenever she got scared, like she could snap from a simple flick.
Himiko was strong though. Ochako knew to never doubt her, even when her eyes were wet with tears and her smile had long since slipped away.
“Do you want to talk about it?” Ochako asked eventually, once she tired herself of comfortingly hushing at every soft whimper Himiko uttered.
Himiko nodded against Ochako’s chest. Her hair tickled Ochako’s chin as she moved, and the feeling made a trail of goosebumps erupt on Ochako’s arms. Himiko’s hand darted out to grab Ochako’s forearm, somehow sensing that Ochako was reacting to the tickle. Himiko was always scarily perceptive, but Ochako didn’t mind her sixth sense.
Himiko held onto Ochako’s arm and squeezed so tightly she could probably feel Ochako’s bones. Her hands were cold but Ochako was warm, so she let Himiko soak up the heat while her tears dried. Himiko sometimes scolded Ochako for being too selfless, but Ochako would risk a small bruise if it meant Himiko could find some comfort.
Himiko’s grip slackened after a moment and Ochako almost missed the numbing pressure of it. Seeing Himiko cry always had a special way of shaking Ochako to her core and leaving her stumbling in the darkness until she could find a solution.
Himiko’s touch was a good way to ground her. It told Ochako: It’s okay. You’re on the same side now.
The fighting ended a long time ago. Now Himiko’s bruises only came from love—tiny bites that dipped below Ochako’s collar and caused coworkers to raise teasing eyebrows. The marks were always worth the stares though, even when Ochako’s friends raised their eyebrows in concern at the occasional faded bite mark that revealed past bloodshed.
Ochako’s heart beat for Himiko and her blood was only a carrier of that love. Himiko’s thirst for it was something managed now, something within the control that Himiko once dreaded and fought, so Ochako didn’t need to fear a playful nick.
Besides, Ochako understood the fun of biting back.
“Ochako, are you there?” Himiko asked.
Ochako blinked, raising her now-chilled arm and clumsily petting Himiko’s back. “Of course, where else would I be?”
“Asleep,” Himiko muttered. Her words were quiet while muffled against Ochako’s shirt, but sound carried easier in the silence of their small bedroom. The darkness made it feel extra cramped, like all that existed in the world was their large bed and the two of them nuzzled in it.
“I’m awake,” Ochako confirmed, even though she was admittedly very tired. She worked an early shift the day before and her body was still protesting the extra training session she’d pushed through during her lunch break.
But for Himiko, she would open her eyes a little wider.
“I dreamt they were leaving me behind again,” Himiko said after a pause. “My parents.”
Ochako pursed her lips. Himiko’s parents caused a lot of hurt by abandoning Himiko until she measured up as the daughter they wanted. They shut her out unless she could meet their expectations, and they left her in the dust when she failed.
Ochako kissed the top of Himiko’s head, right along her hair part. “I’m sorry.”
“Jin was with them too,” Himiko added.
Ochako hummed. Himiko’s dreams were often very scattered and the confusion contributed to her struggle to find peace after a bad nightmare. Himiko described it as her worst memories blending together into one big mesh of horror, until everything haunted her all at once with a bang.
“Jin would never leave you if he was given a choice,” Ochako said firmly.
She didn’t know Jin like Himiko did, but she heard enough about him to know it was the truth. He looked after Himiko like she was his best friend, his little sister, and he would never abandon her.
“He did leave me though,” Himiko said through a strained voice. “It hurts.”
“I know it does,” Ochako said sympathetically. Her chest ached with every short breath Himiko exhaled against Ochako’s skin; Ochako’s body tense with the need to help. She was a hero and heroes saved, but right now saving could only be achieved through comfort and patience. “It really, really does.”
“I don’t want you to leave too,” Himiko admitted.
“I won’t,” Ochako said immediately. She kept one hand on Himiko’s head and used her other to pull the comforter around them a little tighter. She wanted to create their very own cocoon to hide away in. “Don’t worry, I’m staying right here.”
Himiko nodded, and this time Ochako could hear the small smile in her voice as she spoke. “Okay.” Himiko finally pulled away from Ochako to give her a teasing smile, still somehow finding a way to appear devious with a few remaining tears in her eyes. “You better.”
Ochako smiled and withdrew her hand from Himiko’s hair. She tapped Himiko's nose with the pad of her finger, watching in amusement as Himiko wrinkled it in response. “Same goes for you,” Ochako said.
She wondered if Himiko knew how serious Ochako was behind her smile. Ochako tended to shield her emotions with a happy face, even when her cheery words were ringing with truth. It was hard to say things as sincerely as Himiko did. If Ochako told Himiko about her fears with a grim face, one not hidden by nighttime shadows, then it would become too real.
Ochako hadn’t experienced loss like Himiko had. She hoped she never had to.
Ochako was getting better at being open with herself, but it took practice. Himiko always reminded her to try.
Ochako drew in a deep breath, running her hands along Himiko’s back and sparing a moment to appreciate how thin her tank top was. Himiko always slept in loose shorts and a tank top that left little to the imagination, and Ochako frequently relished in the sight of it.
She couldn’t imagine what she would do if someone took the little pleasures like that away from her.
“I really can’t lose you,” Ochako whispered, pressing her fingertips into the muscles on Himiko’s back.
Himiko’s yellow eyes were bright in the darkness, practically glowing like the moonlight shining through the crack in their curtain, and Ochako was enraptured.
“I know,” she answered with a soft smile, one rarely seen by anyone other than Ochako. It looked angelic, full of the sweetness hiding under her usual teases.
Ochako smiled too. She could practically feel their hearts beating in sync as their chests pressed together, as if their bodies were responding in a lovesong of their own. It was an endless drumbeat and she loved to hear it play.
Ochako pressed closer still, as if they could mush their skin together and fuse themselves as one so they never had to fear being split apart.
A long time ago Ochako would have scolded herself for thinking such thoughts, but now she gave into the desire and let herself ignore Himiko’s sweaty skin just to indulge in the sudden urgent infatuation.
Himiko once had a problem with obsession. Ochako had her own issues with it, although she was never as noticeably driven as Himiko was.
Their relationship wasn't an obsession though. Maybe it would have been if they’d started dating after the war like Himiko probably wanted to. Back when they were young and confused, before Himiko took the time to learn about herself and before Ochako learned how to be selfish sometimes.
They found each other after all that though, and it allowed something magical to blossom as they healed.
Their relationship was love. It was carefully built and meticulously cared for, and Ochako would never let it slip away.
After awhile Ochako couldn't fight back her increasingly long blinks. She pressed her mouth against Himiko's shoulder in a half-hearted kiss to ward off a yawn, but Himiko seemed to realize her trick. Himiko giggled, grinning widely like Ochako was the most amusing thing she'd ever encountered before.
Ochako rolled her eyes, but let Himiko's laughs slowly fade away before she spoke. “You should sleep,” Ochako said gently. She glanced at the clock but the letters were only a blur as her mind succumbed to her exhaustion. She might as well have tried to read their large potted plant by the window instead.
“I will soon,” Himiko promised. She guided them both out of their slouch on the bedframe and took care to make sure Ochako’s head hit the pillow. Himiko brushed a few pieces of hair out of Ochako’s eyes as she closed them, trusting Himiko to take care of her.
“What about you?” Ochako asked, keeping her eyes closed. “I thought you didn’t want me to leave.”
Himiko laughed again quietly, and the sound automatically made Ochako’s mouth twitch. She felt Himiko brush her hair again and leaned into the touch. “Maybe you’ll see me in your dreams,” she suggested. “I’ll let Dream Himiko have her turn.”
Ochako smirked. She and Dream Himiko got up to a lot of mischief and the real Himiko knew it. “Are you just going to watch me sleep?” she asked sleepily.
Himiko pulled Ochako a little closer, pressing a kiss to her eyebrow where a relatively new scar resided. “For a little bit,” she said. “I feel better now, but I’m not sleepy yet.”
Ochako nodded as she fought back another yawn. Her tiredness hit her like a large wave pulling her in with the tide, and now she could barely think. Himiko didn’t lie though, especially about her emotions, so Ochako just let her stare.
Ochako pressed her hands against Himiko’s tank top and was relieved that she couldn’t feel the sweat anymore. “Okay,” Ochako mumbled. “Love you.”
Himiko tangled her legs together as Ochako fell into a dream, and Ochako figured that was probably as close to becoming one as they could get. As Ochako grabbed Himiko’s hand with the last of her remaining energy and intertwined their fingers, she decided that could be enough.