not too old, not too young ⌖ open, rejoining/returning

[ochaco]

OCHACO URARAKA! ⌖

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A horrible way to present herself, really, and the reminder of that fact rang loudly in her head. There hadn't been one day since she left Snowbound that she didn't feel guilty over it. She knew Izuku probably fretted endlessly, and Aizawa had likely been concerned over her departure as well. Teachers tended to care about their students-- but you're not his student anymore she reminded herself, gritting her teeth. That was something she hadn't gotten used to, and she doubted she ever would. She was a human, even if she was trapped in the animal world, this hellscape where she was fated to live. Maybe this world didn't have quirks and heroes and villains, but it did have supernatural creatures, and a handful of her friends who had all met the same fate in their previous lives: death.

It was a gamble, really, especially because she didn't know if she'd even be welcome back. Izuku and Aizawa could still very well be here and, if fate resigned her to a cruel path, they could very well turn her away. It wouldn't be in their nature, but nothing in this world was in their nature. It was wildlife, and they had no choice but to live here or die trying. They had to feast on viscera and fight every day in order to survive, and if they didn't like the taste of blood they'd be left to rot among the dead.

In her human life she'd pursued an internship specifically to train and improve upon one of her weaknesses. She'd become familiar with hand-to-hand combat and, as a result, became a better fighter. A better hero.
But Ochaco wasn't a human anymore, and nor was she a hero.

Ochaco wanted nothing more than to be soft again -- to not walk with her guard up, ears perked waiting for a an oncoming storm to finally strike -- but she knew this world did not permit that. It rejected the notion-- it rejected the laws of a world she once lived in and now she was collecting the pieces of the life she used to have, trying desperately to put it back together.

Then came a night where she broke-- broke down crying, broke her morale, broke in every sense of the word. She was at her wits end, this life as a havana brown was one she abhorred, and in a desire to keep in touch with the humane parts of herself, she followed in the footsteps and did what she knew: she went, on her own, and learned the world. She learned how to fight; she learned how to survive. She improved upon her weaknesses, striking them down one by one. If this world wanted bloody evolution then it would get it, damn it.

Now she was back. A expression neutral -- a touch colder, even -- and in complete control of her body. She no longer walked on clunky paws, but instead moved smoothly. She no longer feared danger; she knew she could fight if she needed to. Her tail was faintly scarred as proof of her trials and tribulations, and her disposition was substantially different from the bubbly, optimistic girl she wanted to be.
But she was here.

"My name is Ochaco Uraraka, and I'm here looking for Izuku Midoriya and Aizawa, if they are still residents here." Ochaco called aloud, knowing that if somebody wasn't already hiding in the shadows waiting for her to make an action upon the border, then one would arrive soon at the sound of her voice.

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"What part of her was frail?"