Himiko Toga knew she wasn’t normal.
She was anything but normal.
Her hair was matted and dirty, her pupils were slit, her nails were just a little too sharp to be human and her lips were scarred from her own fangs piercing them.
Her elementary classmates would look at her and think she was strange, and judging from the way her eyes sparkled at the sight of blood, hungry and desperately wanting a taste, maybe they were right.
So she adapted.
She learned to take care of her hair and to clip her nails and file her teeth.
She learned to live and breathe normality, to put on a picture perfect facade.
She knew she didn’t fit into society’s cramped expectations of her, so she’d bend and shrink herself into those boxes. She’d conform until she was nothing but a grotesque parody of herself, mangled and distorted beyond recognition.
And for years, she succeeded. Effortlessly blending into society, but that wasn’t who she was.
A monster.
Himiko was starving.
She wasn’t satisfied. Her life was perfect, and yet she still felt a sense of longing. A gaping hole, something was missing and she knew what it was. Herself.
She was tainted. Pulled into hell the moment her quirk manifested, made itself known. Bloody lines carved into her skin. It wasn’t enough.
Little by little, she cracked, and then she shattered.
A knife found itself in her first loves neck and she felt nothing but euphoria as she drank his blood, consuming him in the most literal sense. Red and blue lights mixed, sirens blared and Himiko ran.
She was nothing but bloody knuckles and scabbed fingers. A means to an end.
And she was okay with that.
She was a villain in a world of heroes, but surely it wasn’t that simple? It must be more nuanced than that, beyond anyones understanding. Why should a single word define who she was as a person?
The next few months were a blur of love and loss.
Magne, then Jin. Who was next? Himiko?
She wanted to shrivel up and cry. She didn’t, because she thought maybe, just maybe Ochako would tell her she wouldn’t be killed.
But she didn’t.
She got her answer. Himiko deserves whatever’s coming to her, and that was that.
She’d never know peace, she’ll never know a life without violence. Cruel hands cradled her and shaped her into what she was; a razor-sharp blade. Maybe the lines were less blurred than she thought. Maybe she was a villain, and that was all there was to it.
She found herself unravelling. Once again distorting beyond recognition; only this time it was for the worse. And for the first time, she wasn’t driven by love, but rather by anger and by grief.
Then, in a crowd full of someone she’d lost, she saw a flash of brown hair and pink cheeks. Ochako.
They fought and argued and Himiko wanted to cry, Himiko did cry.
Himiko was a monster. Shattered and unruly and borderline wynorrific. Both beautiful and horrifying.
And as Ochako bled to death beneath her, she cradled her in her arms, and for the first time in her life, she gave away her own blood instead of taking others.
Ochako was destined to die, but Himiko died in her place.
The cutest girl in the world.
In the end, Ochako was right. Himiko was killed.
By herself.