In the situation with Aizawa, Toga, and the cancellation of her quirk, I acted on emotions, improvising without a clear plan. That's why I was now actively thinking, trying to find an easier way out of this situation. Toga, quietly sniffling under my arm, clearly wasn't in any state to make decisions.
At least, I had taken the knife from her.
"Funny," - an unwelcome thought popped into my head while we were circling the gymnasium in a wide arc, moving close to the bushes, - "it's the first time in fifteen years I'm squeezing a half-naked girl."
However, neither the situation nor the girl herself prompted such thoughts at all, despite the adrenaline still making my heart race.
So. Another problem.
Where do you take a naked, unstable girl who needs clothes when you're on the grounds of a huge, crowded educational complex?
The locker room where Toga's clothes are stored was out of the question: it's in the main building, and if I don't want to traumatize the already p̶s̶y̶c̶h̶o̶p̶a̶t̶h̶ poor thing even more, we can't walk past a crowd of students.
Her room in the dormitory…
I turned my head to look at Himiko, wrapped in my jacket:
"Did you register for the freshmen's dorm?"
She flinched, froze for a moment, and then silently shook her head.
… She's so small, about a head and a half shorter than me…
Well, that's out.
Leave her alone somewhere safe while I run to the locker room for her things?
Not even funny. That's out, because you can't leave this disaster in a skirt… well, no skirt anymore… alone. Maybe ever, but especially not now.
Kami-sama, why did I even take this on…
Oh right, I wanted to be a hero, of course.
Sighing heavily, I led the blonde girl to the dorms.
To my room.
***
U.A. had dorms for all students, from every course and faculty. Around the conglomerate of school buildings, sports fields, and parks ran a wide promenade, and on the other side were neat rows of the student town. Each course had its own "block" of standard houses, each class had its own separate house, and every student had their own room.
Interestingly, the Academy's prestige wasn't shown by the size of the rooms, which were quite modest, but by the fact that every student could order a custom interior, right down to having branded furniture, rugs, exercise equipment, or specialized gadgets installed, like recording studio gear.
Naturally, I hadn't had time to take advantage of any of that, nor had I really planned to. But both Setsuna and Yui were thrilled at the possibilities. They just showed it in different ways.
In our class dorm - and it was impossible to mistake it, with the huge number "1A" on the front - there were five floors. The first was communal, with a living room and a large kitchen. Cozy, with lots of sofas. And several showers too, so we wouldn't need to crowd. The other four floors were residential, divided into two small wings, one for boys and one for girls, with four rooms in each.
The heroics department had twenty students, but there were thirty-two rooms, though I knew that other faculties could have more people, and I also knew that "late bloomers" from the general education department could transfer to us.
I always preferred to live higher up, to look out the window over the rooftops, so I had settled into a vacant room on the fifth floor – as it turned out, next to Todoroki, Sero, Momo, and Setsuna, who liked to fly straight out of her window, and Tsuyu. And Toga.
There was no one in the building; no guards were assigned here, the students themselves we̶r̶e̶n̶'̶t̶ are responsible for order. There was only an automated pass system at the entrance, which we had no problem bypassing – strict as it may seem, U.A.'s security system wouldn't let any random people get in.
In short… after quickly crossing the open space in front of the dorm and hurrying up the stairs, I brought the almost naked blonde, covered in some sticky, whitish goo (ugh…), to my room. I rummaged through my suitcase and handed her soap, shampoo, a towel, and a pair of my home clothes. She can wear these to the locker room in the main building – after all, she won't melt.
By that time, the girl had come to her senses and, still wrapped in my jacket, was looking around in confusion, trying to figure out what I was doing and why.
Resisting the urge to slap her on the butt (she'd probably stab me in my sleep afterward), I sent her to the shower, strictly telling her to come back. "I hope she doesn't run away," I thought, feeling a fleeting concern over the fact that I even had the desire to slap someone on the butt who had just tried to slice me up like sashimi ten minutes ago. Especially in this situation. Especially a naked Toga Himiko...
I rubbed my eyes.
Pulled the knife from my belt and tossed it into the drawer.
Exhausted. It's only noon, and I'm already tired.
Later, I learned that the grayish-white mass that remains on Himiko's body (and around her) after a transformation wasn't sticky at all; on the contrary, that oily, slimy substance seemed specially designed to harmlessly slide off her figure without leaving traces on her disguise. After hitting the ground, this mass quickly "dissolved," turning into a puddle that rapidly evaporated or soaked into the earth.
Once again, I was convinced that quirks, whatever their origins, were thought out down to the smallest detail. Just like the human body...
I looked around the room and, for the first time, regretted not bothering with the decor. It didn't just look boring, it looked downright dreary – a desk with drawers in the style of "Ikea with love," a matching dresser with an unnecessary TV monitor on top, a small coffee table on the floor, a bed, a chair, a trash can. A large curtained window with an air conditioner in the wall.
And that's it. No rug, no paintings, no pull-up bar, nothing.
I'll have to take care of it. Maybe I'll ask Setsuna; unlike me, she has taste…
Speaking of her: my phone vibrated, displaying a message full of emojis and exclamation points. The gist of it was "everything okay?" and I couldn't help but smile. I texted a short reply and walked over to the window.
Pulling back the hideous green curtain, I stared through the glass at the park.
What if Himiko runs away now? Good luck finding someone with a quirk more suited for that. After all, she ran away in canon too, leaving her family and school, and in the end, hiding from the police and heroes, she started killing people left and right. And drinking their blood. What guarantees do I have that Toga won't run away now, and end up joining the League of Villains just like that? Or – that she won't run away in a week?
She didn't like the lessons, I didn't let her carve me into salad, she hasn't fallen in love with a bloodied, broken Izuku yet, and her first day was marked by a nightmare, an event humiliating for any girl...
Sighing, I was forced to admit that I had no guarantees. I now had a ticking time bomb in my class, and while I might have some minimal influence over Himiko, only time (and specialized psychological help) would show whether my decision to support her was wise.
Or - just incredibly stupid.
… When Himiko came back, she placed my clothes in a pile by the wall and froze in the doorway, which I hadn't closed. I had already treated the cut on my palm, scrubbed off the dried blood, and was finishing unpacking. I never liked sitting around doing nothing, so I had found something to occupy myself with this time too.
The girl looked… oh.
As I've mentioned before, I was one hundred eighty centimeters tall at the time. Toga, on the other hand, was barely one meter and sixty, which, combined with her slim waist and petite but toned body, made her look tiny.
Obviously, we didn't wear the same size clothes.
As a result, she had rejected the sports pants I'd given her and only pulled on an old oversized T-shirt of mine, which on her looked like a dress. A short one. A very revealing one!
And naturally, there wasn't a bra among my things (despite Setsuna's attempts at pranks).
Her look was completed by damp, tousled hair that reached down to her shoulder blades.
I blinked. I never thought that the first girl to seriously make me consider her attractiveness would be… her.
There was no trace of Toga's recent manic, but cheerful attitude. She didn't look depressed either. More like thoughtful and awkward, like someone who didn't know what to do or how to act around me.
Well, at least we're on the same page - I have no idea what to do with you either.
What should I do with you, Himiko Toga?
Stop you from becoming a villain, sure.
Maybe even try to use you to fight them, considering how amazing your quirk is - sure.
But how to deal with you as a person?
I had no clue.
At that moment, I leaned toward the idea that Toga's quirk, in many ways, was a disease. She wasn't to blame for what her ability had made her. Maybe… maybe she could still be saved, if she learned to control her quirk better, to resist her irrational desires. To separate herself from this power.
Or at least, that's what I thought back then.
"Why are you helping me?" - she finally asked, frowning.
I walked closer and, gesturing for her to move aside, gently closed the door.
"Because I want to be your friend," - I told the truth (yeah, with friends like these, who needs enemies, but why I want it specifically doesn't concern you), sitting down on the bed. "Because that's what heroes do, they save people. And I want to be a hero. And… because I don't think you're to blame for what happened."
Himiko's yellow eyes widened:
"But I attacked you!"
I shook my head:
"That wasn't you. Not entirely. That was your quirk. You need to separate, understand?"
She stepped back, frowning and shaking her head:
"But it's me who wants… the blood. My desire. My nature. I want to live like this."
"No. It's the animal, the monster inside you that wants to wallow in and bathe in blood. But you…"
Her yellow eyes darkened, and she grabbed the edge of the damp T-shirt, sharply outlining what was underneath. But I felt a chill of danger crawl up my spine. I was starting to think I'd soon develop a sense specifically for detecting danger from Toga Himiko.
She clearly didn't like what I had said. But why?
"... Niren-kun too, right? You also think I'm abnormal? Crazy? A monster…" - she muttered, lowering her head so her hair covered her eyes, stepping back toward the door. I tiredly noted another inhuman grin that split her face in two.
Damn it! You're so difficult, woman! I locked the door, not wanting her to break it down. Or, who knows, decide I had locked her in on purpose, to… do something.
"Toga. I think you're normal. And I don't think you're crazy or a monster," - I said loudly, hoping to reach her the first time.
Was I lying? Yes, absolutely. Maybe not a monster yet, but definitely not entirely normal. The chances that I could "bring her back to the light" and all that were pretty slim.
But where, in this world, have you ever truly seen this 'normality'?
And am I 'normal' myself? I strongly doubt it.
The most important thing here is that even if I can't "fix" her… there will still be some benefit.
Even if she doesn't become a hero - at least she won't become a villain.
Toga's reaction amused me: she froze in place, then started jumping furiously, flailing her arms in the air, and whining:
"I don't understand! I don't understand anything! Why are you calling me 'normal'?! Why are you helping me?! Why…"
"Hey," - I averted my gaze, - "you… aren't wearing a bra. Please, refrain from dancing."
Toga let out a soft squeak, blushed, and very girlishly covered her chest. How does she manage to pull that off?
"Why don't you just stand still for a bit... or sit... somewhere," I sighed, looking around the room, got up from the bed, and stepped back to the wall so I wouldn't see anything I shouldn't when she sat down. "Listen to me carefully, try to understand. And I'll try to explain it well. Deal?"
Toga tilted her head—apparently, that helps her think—and sat on the bed, hugging her knees, cautiously watching me.
"... You know, many people have certain... behavioral deviations. Everyone does. Some smoke, some drink, while others can't stand either. Some like their meat well-done, others prefer it rare. Some are into girls, some into guys, and that doesn't always match their gender. Some lose their minds over stockings and skirts, while others are into office pants. Right? We're all different, but we all have something that makes our hearts race. Something we dream about. Something we crave, that excites us, something we're willing to go to great lengths for—working out, working hard, traveling, stepping out of our comfort zones."
I answered the question she hadn't asked:
"Yes, in your case, it's blood. But look: like I said, everyone has these desires. Some are stronger, like yours, and are harder to control. Others are weaker. But people learn to control these urges and satisfy them in ways that are acceptable—they smoke where it's allowed, sleep with their partner, in a brothel, with a rubber doll, or just alone in the dark with a themed website. They… most of them don't stick their hand up a cute student's skirt on a crowded bus. How are you different?"
I knew I was talking about things that were vulgar and inappropriate, especially for such a serious topic, but I couldn't think of a better example.
Toga blushed.
"You have a difficult quirk. Very strong desires, very hard to control. But difficult doesn't mean impossible! You—I mean you specifically, not your quirk, but you—want to be my friend, right? And probably make friends with a couple of nice girls from our course?" I was guessing, but something told me I was on the right track. "It's possible. You're almost there with me already!"
I tried to give her a sincere smile. Though it probably looked more like a grimace of toothache.
"But friends, well, they don't like it when they get STABBED WITH A KNIFE! They stop being friends when that happens! And then they bleed out, die, and that's the end—you have no more friends! And you're all alone! Again!"
The blonde in the pale blue T-shirt flinched all over and stared at me as if she were seeing me for the first time.
"... Alone, like you were before, right? Himiko… if you don't want to be alone, and you want to have friends, real ones, who will help you, like I did today, who will share secrets with you, and talk, like we're talking, and who won't think you're a freak or a monster… you need to control yourself. Find a way to satisfy your thirst that's safe for your friends, or for people in general. That's it. So you won't risk your friends' lives. So you can control your quirk and be a person… or even to be a different person. But not follow your quirk lead and lose everything and everyone in a result—friends, home, family, school, yourself..."
She turned away and lowered her head.
I looked at her, expecting to see a killer and a psychopath…
But all I saw was a small schoolgirl whose life had been rough on her since childhood. Midoriya doesn't even come close... Toga never found her own All Might until the very end.
At that moment, I tilted my head to the side myself.
... Or maybe she did
I spoke hoarsely:
"Right now, I'm offering you my help. Right now. A chance to have friends who understand you, a chance to have a real life where you'll be accepted as you are. Because I like you too, and I want to be friends with you. Friendship works like this: people help each other in tough times. But you have to consider your friends' opinions. I'll help you. I'll meet you halfway. But you'll listen to me. Deal?"
Toga raised her eyes, and I realized she was crying. She just sat quietly on my bed, clutching her knees, silently letting tears fall onto my oversized T-shirt.
I swallowed a lump in my throat. I never could get used to such a sight.
"It'd be funny if she's just playing a role right now, and you're overestimating your amateur psychology skills," - the thought flashed through my mind. It flashed and was gone.
"Stand up."
The girl slowly rose from the bed.
"You want to drink my blood. And 'become me,' whatever that means. Right?" I asked.
Himiko nodded jerkily, looking to the side.
"But I'm your friend. You do not kill a friend. You can't cut a friend because it'll hurt them, and then the friendship will end, and you'll be alone again."
Okay, "you can't kill and cut a person" is too complicated a concept for now. Let's stick with "friend"—get that across, make it stick. Maybe I can get her to make friends with someone else, someone who won't run away in horror.
I pray she doesn't hurt anyone in the coming weeks, and then we'll get through this…
"Look at me."
Her yellow eyes looked, and I was struck by how many different emotions were mixed in them. Bitterness, pain, panic, sadness, joy, confusion, wonder, admiration... I probably understood only half of it. I've always thought that emotions were impossible to read in someone's eyes, but... there was one feeling I was sure of.
Hope. Hope was the strongest thing burning in her gaze.
I hope so too. I hope I won't regret what I'm about to do. I really do.
"I'm willing to share... part... of my blood with you. On a regular basis. I'll do this if you promise to listen to me, don't hurt other people, and control your thirst. Later we'll find other ways to help you manage your quirk, but for now, this."
The girl's eyes widened, sparkled, and her cheeks flushed… but there was no crazy grin. She seemed too shocked for that.
I held out my arm—my left forearm—and, not knowing what else to add, said:
"This is called a 'compromise'. Friends do that often. The knife's in the drawer..."
I don't know what she needs for this. A straw, like for a milkshake?
After a moment's hesitation, Toga approached me, slowly opened her mouth—and sank her fangs into my forearm, looking straight into my eyes.
Author's Note 1:
In the canon, the dormitory was built in one night by deus ex machina in just three days, but that happens only in the third season. Here, things are different.
First of all, because foreign and out-of-town students need a place to live, and it's absurd to think that several thousand people would be forced to rent housing in the city.
Secondly, there's another explanation, but it will only appear at the end of the book, and by then, everyone will have forgotten about it.