Cussed (Kacchako)

EIGHTEEN

Chapter Eighteen

Ochako sat on her bed staring at her hands which were clasped loosely in her lap. Her hands weren't particularly interesting, they were just at a convenient distance for staring. She wasn't sure what she had been expecting to learn during that movie night, but it definitely wasn't what she got. For some reason, she hadn't imagined Katsuki ever being in a serious, "settled down" type of relationship. That said, it hadn't exactly been a fair or logical assumption in the first place.

Ochako sighed. How terrible was she that a part of her resented a dead woman? Katsuki didn't want to avoid a relationship designation because he was against labels in general, but rather he wanted to avoid labels with her. And he had wanted it with his Parisian woman. She sighed again. That also wasn't being fair; to her, to him, and to that poor woman who had died. Being jealous and competitive with a dead woman was a lesson in futility, you just can't win against the dead. They will always be more...whatever...than you.

Ochako tipped over on the bed and reached over to switch off her lamp. As she tried to fall asleep, the look on Katsuki face as he retreated to some memory from Paris kept playing behind her eyelids.

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Ochako woke up in a cranky mood. Her head was killing her and she was achy. As she stumbled out bed, she wondered idly if she hadn't had enough water the day before, or perhaps she had been tense and grinding her teeth after the revelation yesterday, or maybe all the stress that had been building up in her life finally broke through. After going the bathroom—and doing some mental calculations: yes, about a month had gone by—the mystery was solved. It explained the mood she had been in the last few days, and hopefully meant that in a few more days she would feel a bit more even keel about things. It also meant that she had to do some laundry and run to the store and pick up some supplies. Ugh.

She changed into loose, comfy clothes and grabbed her laundry basket, tossing her pajamas and sheets on the top. She opened her door and found Katsuki standing there was his hand raised to knock. He lowered his hand slowly and looked her over. Unlike the looks he had been throwing her way the past week, this look definitely fell on the side of cautious. She had seen that look from men before, and found it immensely irritating. Which was probably why they were cautious, but dammit if they didn't give her that look, they wouldn't have anything to be cautious about! "What?" she asked flatly.

Katsuki took a step back, a seemingly unconscious response to her tone. He opened his mouth, shut it, seemed to think better about what he had planned to say, and then opened it again. "Would you like me to make breakfast?"

Ochako took a deep breath. She shouldn't be annoyed with him when he hadn't actually done anything yet. While it was possible to be annoyed with people for existing, it wasn't exactly logical. He was trying to be kind. "No. Thank you. I need to start this laundry and then run to the store for some things."

"Do you want some company?"

"Not particularly."

Katsuki winced, but nodded. "Fair enough. Want some ibuprofen or acetaminophen?"

Ochako blinked and then chuckled. "That obvious, huh?" Katsuki shrugged and she smiled at him, it was only slightly forced. "That would be great, actually. Let me throw this in the wash," she hefted the basket a bit in emphasis, "I'll be right back."

"Want me to—"

"No, Katsuki."

"Alright then. Meet ya in the kitchen."

Ochako got her laundry started and then took a deep breath. Then another. Sometimes being a woman was so darn annoying. She still preferred it to the thought of being a man, but that didn't make these times anymore enjoyable to deal with it. With a final deep breath, she headed for the kitchen.