Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Himiko had always been a strange girl.

Born under the Toga name, but later adopted by the Yaoyorozus, Himiko never felt like she… fit in with her new family.

Blonde hair, in direct contrast to their black, slit-pupiled golden eyes, able to be singled out immediately even in a crowd of thousands, two pairs of fangs, protruding from her top and bottom jaw.

And, of course, there was that small matter of her having a blood Quirk.

Himiko had always known it was a mutation — neither of her biological parents had Quirks that were anything like hers, being Charisma and Speech, respectively, so Transform had really been a wild card, coming out of seemingly nowhere.

But… Momo had Creation, a clear continuation of her father’s Blueprint and mother’s Substantiate.

If Himiko squinted, she could maybe draw a connection there — Transform could just be a more biological form of Blueprint, covering her own body with a projection while Substantiate created the material needed to actually become the person who’s blood she consumed. Honestly, it almost made more sense than her own parents’ Quirks, something that pleased her to no end once Momo pointed it out.

…But Himiko knew it didn’t work like that.

No, she still had Eiko and Yukina’s blood flowing through her veins, much as she wished she didn’t.

She still had the warped, mutated Quirk that took Speech and ran with it, taking that voice-changing power and fitting it over her entire body, activated with blood as well as sight instead of hearing and willpower.

Himiko had heard the doctors speculate that her special fixation on the blood of those she cared for most could be due to Charisma’s influence, inverting it and making others’ feelings overpower her own, but every time someone spoke of those horrible people that just so happened to give her life Himiko couldn’t sit still, fidgeting in her seat as she tried not to throw up.

In fact, Himiko was trying not to do that now, as the support company that was supposed to be designing her hero outfit was having an extremely difficult time with it, due to her only being able to replicate clothing underneath her own set, instead of on top.

“Let’s see… so, her mother’s Quirk allowed her to reshape her vocal chords, while her father’s let him project an aura of influence over the people around him…” one of the designers mused, reading over her file. “…Dang, nothing good here, either. This is one heck of a mutation, huh?”

“No kiddin’. …Are you sure you wanna become a hero, kid? Would save us a whole lotta trouble tryina find somethin’ that’ll let your Quirk bleed through your costume,” another joked lightly, turning to Himiko.

“Yes. Yes, I want to become a hero,” Himiko said firmly, trying to ignore the bile that always surfaced around mentions of the Togas. Because Momo’s trying to become one, too, and I don’t want to be separated from her for even a moment. “It’s very important to me.”

The costume designer just shrugged noncommittally, turning back to his experimentations with several different brands of fabric.

Technically, Himiko wasn’t even close to becoming a hero-in-training yet — the UA exams were still in two more days (and, after that, the recommendation exams — Himiko was taking both, just in case. No one in her family was sure a Quirk as unusual as hers could get in including Himiko herself.)

But, Yuka and Sakaeru had insisted on this appointment anyways, almost as soon as the company they had sent the design off to had expressed confusion on how to best incorporate Himiko’s Quirk into her costume.

So, she had to sit there.

Being stared at.

Being poked with needles.

Being forced to transform in front of them, as they needed samples of her skin goop to experiment on.

And, most harrowingly of all, being reminded of her birth parents.

“If your Quirk just allowed you to shift your body around like your mother’s, instead of being able to additionally create a layer of fabric to go along with it, this would be so much easier…”

Himiko bit her lip, suppressing the urge to correct them once again. Yuka was her mom now, not Yukina.

One of the designers asked her to shift again for them, and Himiko nearly let out a groan as she complied.

At this rate, I’m going to run out of all my blood before this exam’s even over.

Himiko was very grateful to Yuka, Sakaeru, and Momo for letting her have their blood, even if it was just a little bit from each of them, one vial every Tuesday and Thursday, rotating every week with occasional substitutions from the (willing) staff.

They had even made sure to schedule this meeting on a Tuesday, just to make sure she’d have enough to get her through the appointment.

Momo’s long arms dripped off of her once again, and Himiko had to muffle a mournful whine as she felt the blood reserves inside of her dwindle even further.

Eventually — finally — one of the costume designers turned to her with a practiced smile.

“Thank you for your cooperation, Miss Yaoyorozu,” Are you sure about me being a Yaoyorozu? Because from what you’ve been showing me so far, it all seems like you view me as a Toga, Himiko thought bitterly to herself. “We will get back to you as soon as we can with information about your hero costume, but, for now, we must say goodbye, as our alloted time for your appointment with us has finished.”

Himiko tried not to frown.

Seriously? All that time being poked, prodded, transforming back and forth as she burned through all of her blood for the day (which wasn’t even that much in the first place!!!!!) and they couldn’t even give her a firm answer on whether or not they could even make the darn thing.

But the Yaoyorozus had been insistent on force-feeding the manners Himiko hated down her throat, so instead she just smiled, bowing politely.

“Thank you for your time, as well as all the hard work you’re putting in for me,” she told them, the pleased smile she got in return almost making it worth it, but mostly just making her itchy.

I need Momo.

As soon as the door swung closed behind Himiko, she was sprinting down the hallway, clawing at her arms and nearly slicing her thumb on her fangs.

That was too much blood I used up too much I need more please Momo give me more I promise I’ll help you with training and I won’t even tease your little nerd brain please Momo PLEASE—

“Himiko! How’d the appointment go?” Momo Yaoyorozu questioned her pleasantly, and Himiko crashed into her, panting heavily and placing her teeth against the crook of Momo’s elbow, where they always drew blood from. “…That bad?”

“I burned through so much blood I’m practically running on empty,” Himiko admitted, and concern flashed in Momo’s eyes, her bigger (but still younger) sister glancing around nervously before pulling Himiko into the limousine they had driven to the appointment in, knocking against the divider between them and the driver to signal them to take off.

“…I could give you more,” Momo offered hesitantly, but Himiko was already shaking her head.

“Mom and dad said we shouldn’t let that happen — I’m already so thirsty all the time with just this little bit of blood you guys give me, so we shouldn’t risk triggering it by giving me more,” she replied, a rehearsed speech, memorized by a younger Himiko, constantly begging to increase her weekly dosages.

Momo shifted uncomfortably, glancing to the side.

“…Since we’re both getting into the hero course,” she started, and Himiko couldn’t help the small smile that put on her face — not “if” they got into UA, but since they definitely were. “You’re probably going to be using your Quirk a lot more, right? That means…”

More blood.

Himiko tried not to let show how much that thought immediately set off her Quirk, already beginning to salivate as she thought about just how much blood hero Himiko would need to consume for training.

“…I mean, they’re probably just gonna focus on combat training first, right?” Himiko questioned, shaking her head to clear her thoughts. “We’ll do actual Quirk training later.”

“Yes, and then, later, we’ll still deal with the problem of you consuming extra blood — much more than you ingest currently. Wouldn’t it… wouldn’t it be a good idea to get you started on that now, to get your body used to it?” Momo suggested, worrying the edge of her perfectly ironed skirt between two fingers.

Himiko paused, before just stating quietly, “…We’ll ask mom and dad about that later.”

Momo sighed, but didn’t press the issue.

Himiko tried not to let it show how much Momo’s frustration was setting off her hunger.

Chapter Text

“You got this!” Momo told her firmly, grabbing Himiko by the shoulders with a fierce, determined look in her eyes, almost as if she were the one taking the test, instead of Himiko. “Just show them how amazing you are and I’m sure you’ll get in!”

A wide grin spread across Himiko’s face, only the slightest bit wobbly. “Of course! I can’t let you have all the fun of becoming a hero while I’m left in the dust, can I?”

Momo squeezed Himiko’s shoulders, before suddenly launching forwards into a hug. “I love you,” she whispered to Himiko, who, after a brief pause, wrapped her arms around Momo in return, burying her face in Momo’s neck and taking in a large, calming breath of her blood. “Please, try your best. Don’t beat yourself up too much over any mistakes you may make; remember, you still have the recommendation exam to fall back on if this one turns out to be too difficult.”

“I’ll be fine,” Himiko whispered, then, as the whispers of several different people wondering why there was a freaking limousine parked outside the school reached her, she forced herself to pull back. “Now go! I still have a test to take, remember? Don’t wanna be late!”

“Yes, yes, of course,” Momo replied, wiping at a few tears that had built at the corners of her eyes. “Just… remember, no matter what, I am so proud to have you as my sister.”

Himiko’s fake smile hardened into a real one, and gave Momo one last hug before darting off towards the massive school building behind her.

She received a few odd looks along her way, making her shift uncomfortably, but eventually people stopped paying attention to her, relief coursing through her as she realized they only cared about her because of the limousine she had arrived in, and weren’t actually judging her appearance. …Yet.

Stop it. Stop it stop it, you look fine, people don’t care about your fangs or eyes, it’s completely fine, it’s just in your head, Himiko reassured herself, pressing one hand to her chest and another over her mouth — over her fangs.

It had been years since she was last harassed over those things, but the scars still lingered, reopening with every sideways glance, every whisper in the hallway, every time she looked in the mirror and remembered what a freak she was.

“Stop smiling like that! You look like a deviant.”

Himiko had to pause in the middle of the hallway, making a soft keening sound as she dug the heels of her palms into her eyes.

And then, someone nearly slammed into her.

“Gonna be late gonna be late gonna be late,” a girl’s voice chanted in a sharp hiss, feet stamping against the ground as she skidded around a corner, pushing herself off it in an attempt to preserve her momentum but accidentally sending her stumbling directly into Himiko’s back. “Ack! Ohmygosh I’m soooooo sorry I didn’t see you there I just arrived pretty late so I was trying to—”

Himiko blinked, a smarting pain in her shoulder but overall feeling much better as she was (quite literally) knocked out of her spiraling thoughts, and looked up to see a girl with pink skin, black sclera, and curved horns.

“…Oh, no, it’s fine,” Himiko started quietly, some small part of her whispering, She looks even weirder than I do, only to immediately feel guilty about it. “Don’t worry about it.”

“Okay, cool,” the girl replied breezily, taking her rather fascinating eyes off Himiko to glance around the hallway, standing up on her tippy-toes to try and get a better look of her surroundings. “Do you know where the hero course exams are taking place, by the way? I got a little lost and I’m tooootally going to miss them if I take any longer.”

Himiko blinked, the building schematics Momo had so pointlessly drilled into her head cascading through her mind, and she nodded. “Yeah, sure, I can totally show you—” the rest of the pink girl’s words registered in her mind, and she glanced down at her watch, eyes widening in horror. “…Oh, shoot I’m going to be late too c’mon we need to go NOW!!!”

The girl laughed as Himiko grabbed her by the wrist, dragging her through the hallways and towards the auditorium where she knew the written test would be taking place. “Oh, chill, I was gonna ask what you were doing sitting there in the middle of the hallway but if you’re late too that makes me feel totes better.”

How long was I sitting there feeling sorry for myself? Himiko wondered, not replying to the girl’s teasing as her heart clambered its way into her throat. Almost everyone else is gone and Momo will kill me if I mess this up somehow—!

Thankfully, not everyone had found their seats yet, so Himiko and pink girl could just barely stumble their way through in time, the teacher in charge of the double doors sending them both a stern look just before he closed them.

“Haha, thanks, girl! I’m Ashido, by the way, but you can call me Mina!” she chirped, ruffling Himiko’s carefully-done hair with a large, encouraging grin.

“…Himiko,” she breathed in reply, staring up at her with wide, starstruck eyes.

“Hope we end up in the same class, Himiko!” Mina chirped, waving a quick goodbye before running off to find a seat in the packed auditorium.

“…Me too,” Himiko whispered, before slowly going to do the same.

The written part of the exam went pretty well, if Himiko had anything to say about it.

…Though, her brain was now but a pile of mush, so she was very grateful to be moving onto the practical.

And so, it seemed, was another one of the examinees — very excited, in fact.

“YOU’RE ALL GOING DOWN, YOU BUNCH OF EXTRAS!!!!!” a boy with spiky blond hair declared loudly, sparks flying from his palms, and Himiko frowned at him.

What a jerk.

But, they had both been shoved in the same testing center, so Himiko just had to deal with it.

Hopefully he doesn’t blast me in the face — or, if he does, the judges call him out for it immediately and he has to leave. Still, would be great to not have a blasted-off face, so Himiko was determined she would keep her distance.

“All riiiiight, you guys ready to rock?!!” the announcer — Present Mic, the echo of Momo’s voice in her head helpfully supplied — screeched out over the intercom, and Himiko shifted on her feet, eyes trained on the opening to the training ground. “Three, two, one, GOOOOOO!!!!! Now, remember rookies, you only have ten minutes to rack up as many points as you can, so spend. Those. WISELY!!!!! There are no second tries.”

Except for me, because my parents begged and pleaded with the school until they finally relented, Himiko thought with a small smile of amusement, only to stumble back as a large explosion rocked the group of contestants, that spiky-haired boy launching into the air while hurling obscenities at the other examinees. “SUCK MY—”

Himiko grit her teeth.

Ignore. Him.

All around Himiko, people were activating their Quirks — vines shot out of the earth, some guy punched a robot square in the chest, another transformed into a wild beast and started using his massive claws and fangs to rip his way through the bots, while yet another turned silver and charged head-first into the fray.

Gotta get away. There are too many people here, I won’t be able to do anything with them around, Himiko thought to herself, immediately darting into the nearest alleyway to get to different parts of the mock-city faster. Should I use up any of my blood?

Himiko had been granted a few extra vials for her exam that day, to be used during the recommendation if she didn’t end up using them today, so Himiko was practically itching to down one of the five.

Her mother, her father, Momo, and two especially sturdy servants.

Turning into mom or Momo could maybe make me run faster — they have longer legs than me, and of course Momo has been training just as hard as I have to make it into this place, so she’s pretty sturdy, too.

But should I use them up this early? Mom and dad were scared to make me overdose, so I don’t really have all that much blood for each person…

Himiko spotted the back of one of the villain-bots at the opening to the alleyway, and clenched her fists.

They’ve got to be able to make a way for students like me to pass.

Otherwise, why would this school be so highly praised?

Himiko charged forwards, all the combat moves she and Momo had studied over the years pouring through her mind, trying to ignore the twist of anxiety in her gut over whether or not she could actually pull them off as she leaped towards the robot’s back.

…And then was promptly launched backwards, not even touching the bot for a second before it detonated in a large explosion, that blond boy’s obnoxious laugh heard for barely a second before he rocketed off to destroy another robot.

“…WHAT THE HECK?!?!!!” Himiko screeched, slamming her fist against the wall next to her and hissing as the brick scratched her hand.

Crap. Crap crap crap, it was already going to be hard when all I had to worry about was myself, but now I have to worry about him, too?!

I’m never going to survive this.

But Himiko kept going, because she had no other choice.

She eventually found another (unexploded) robot — a one-pointer, in direct contrast to the two-pointer that had been stolen from her earlier — and immediately launched herself on top of it, wary of that explosion kid taking another potential point away from her.

Alright alright alright I did NOT think this through, Himiko hissed, attempting to scramble up the side of the one-pointer as it whipped around on its wheel, trying to shake her off.

One of its mechanical arms darted forwards to pluck Himiko off of it, and she jumped from the side of the robot onto its arm, swinging from its side and accidentally causing it to tip forwards from the unexpected weight.

Yes! I can work with this! Himiko realized excitedly, a grin spreading out across her face as she was suddenly even more grateful for the gymnastics lessons she had been put through as a kid.

She had always been more flexible than Momo — her sister tended to be pretty stiff even at the best of times, so it wasn’t really all that surprising that Himiko took to gymnastics like a fish to water while Momo floundered at the shore.

Himiko swung herself upwards, flipping onto the robots head just as it smashed into the asphalt, adding that extra bit of pressure to make sure it crumbled on impact.

Himiko grinned, pleased with herself, only to promptly become humbled once more as another robot smashed into her from behind, sending her tumbling.

OW.

Himiko hissed as she stood back up, glaring at the other one-pointer that had snuck up on her, and felt a scratch of blood start to trickle down her arm.

Blood blood blood sweet blood—

Himiko scrambled upwards, unable to stop herself from licking at her wound, that salty, iron, Himiko tang greeting her tongue, and Himiko immediately grabbed for her shirt pocket, craving more.

I need to be stronger — I need to get through this, get to the end, greet Momo at the finish line.

I. Need. Blood.

Himiko tossed the vial into the back of her throat, grinning at the sensation of her muscles thickening, growing at least a foot taller as she quickly shrugged off her jacket before it tore, just praying her pants were stretchy enough to withstand the added mass.

Himiko tied her jacket around her suddenly much thicker neck, the sleeves dangling over her very hairy chest, covered in a layer of light brown fur that darkened to black over her shoulders and spine.

Her face lengthened, the snout of a dog protruding from her face, and suddenly the world around her sharpened, the scent of smoke, rusted metal, and spilled oil mingling with the shouts of several teenagers, more explosions as spiky-haired kid cackled menacingly, and crumpling metal.

Armand Gagnon.

Originally from France, he was technically hired as one of their chefs.

But, with a strong body, German Shepherd Quirk, and a tendency to work out at every possible spare moment, he was probably one of the strongest people currently working at Yaoyorozu Manor, demonstrated whenever Sakaeru called him over to help move couches or Yuka asked him to carry her bags.

Himiko opened and closed her massive fluffy hands, feeling the paw pads scrape against each other and claws dig into her skin.

Oh my goodness he’s literally huge, Himiko thought gleefully, charging at the one-pointer and grabbing its head between her paws, smashing it against her knee and grinning as she felt it easily crumble underneath Armand’s pure power. I could get used to this.

She sniffed the air, taking a moment to get adjusted to Armand’s extra-sensitive sense of smell, before darting off, tongue lolling out of her mouth as she raced towards her next target.

I cannot waste a second of this, Himiko thought to herself, pulverizing a three-pointer with a single punch and grinning in ecstasy.

She could already feel her body burning through the blood inside of her, barely a tablespoon ingested and she could already feel it shrinking even further.

She smashed through one-pointers, two-pointers, and three-pointers, racking up points quickly, the other examinees that saw this massive semi truck of a man unable to do more than gawk as they wondered what on earth was going on.

Himiko just scored her twenty-second point when she felt her reserves drain completely, hastily tugging the jacket from around her neck back onto her arms as they quickly thinned, transforming back into her much smaller original body just as she finished zipping up her jacket.

The other contestants stared at Himiko, mouths hanging open, and she sheepishly waved at them, the dead skin she secreted upon turning back leaking out from under her clothing.

A massive explosion rocked the ground in front of her, and spiky-boy turned his head around to glare at her.

“What on EARTH was that, slime-skin?!!!” he barked at her, and Himiko grimaced.

“My Quirk, happy-go-murder,” she retorted. “Not all of us have something as flashy as ol’ firecracker over there.”

“Happy-go-murder?!?!?!” he flared, eyes narrowing and several small explosions popping off from his hands. “Why don’t you try saying that again when I blow your—!?”

“Five more minutes! Remember kids, rack up those scores as high as you can while you’ve still got time; otherwise, y’all are COOOOOOKED!!!!!!” the intercom crackled to life again, and explosion-boy turned his head up to glare at it.

“Just — stay out of my way, extra,” he growled, pointing one menacing finger Himiko’s way. “Otherwise, you’re dead.”

“Happy-go-murder,” Himiko muttered under her breath, just as happy-go-murder himself rocketed away again.

A chunk of the robot he had detonated when landing went flying through the air, and Himiko’s eyes widened dramatically.

“Watch out!!!” she cried, hurtling herself towards the bystander it was careening towards and just barely managing to tumble out of its range as the blistering metal singed the edge of her pants.

“Wh— thanks,” the examinee blinked up at her as Himiko glared after happy-go-murder.

“That no-good, explosion-snorting, dust-for-brains, SON OF A NUCLEAR MISSILE!!!!!” Himiko roared into the heavens, absolutely fuming over this hard-head’s complete lack of respect for other people. “Someone should really keep an eye on him, just to make sure he doesn’t wind up killing somebody.”

“Why don’t you do it, if you feel so strongly about it?” someone else suggested, and Himiko blinked at them.

“But— the exam—”

“The exam ohmygosh get off of me I need to go score more points—” the person Himiko had saved exclaimed in a panic, shoving Himiko off of him and scrambling towards the sounds of more villain-bots in the distance.

Himiko was about to follow him, before the sound of another large explosion sounded, and she turned to watch after happy-go-murder one last time.

…Oh, please don’t make me regret this, Himiko prayed, her own worry overpowering her need to win and sending her running towards the sounds of growing chaos in the distance.

Her legs weren’t long enough, weren’t fast enough, happy-go-murder so fast he was practically a blur in the distance, so Himiko reached for her jacket pocket, tugging out one more vial of blood.

Mom.

Yuka’s blood poured down her throat, coating her tongue in a warmth felt by neither the taste of her own blood nor Armand’s, the taste of familiarity, of love, of belonging.

Himiko made sure she copied Yuka’s top before tugging her jacket off this time, no longer covered by the fur-covered flat chest of Armand as the sleeves of her jacket pressed into her arms, cutting off her circulation.

She managed to tie the jacket around her waist just as she reached happy-go-murder again, the spiky-haired blond only giving her a small grunt of surprise as he spun around to blast another bot.

“Why do you keep turning into a bunch of adults, slime-skin?” he questioned her, not pausing for even a moment as he rocketed around the simulated streets. “Trying to get your mommy and daddy to take this test for you?”

Himiko grunted, ignoring happy-go-murder’s comments as she scanned the area, spotting another contestant pinned underneath a collapsed building and rushing over.

Happy-go-murder suddenly whipped his head around, squinting at Himiko, before blurting, “Wait, I know that face!!!”

“Good for you!” Himiko called back, gritting her teeth as she pried the steel beam off her fellow examinee.

They whispered out a small “Thank you,” as they scurried off, clutching a bleeding arm to their chest.

“That’s Yuka Yaoyorozu,” he stated firmly, shooting Himiko another glare as he crushed the final bot in the area before rocketing off again.

Himiko scanned the area around her, pulling another contestant out of the rubble and helping another to their feet before darting off after him again.

“Why are you wearing the face of a Yaoyorozu?” happy-go-murder questioned Himiko as soon as she caught up, as if they had never stopped their previous conversation. “Thinking it’ll earn you popularity points or whatever?”

Himiko growled, running forwards to deflect a stray scrap of metal from beaning a kid directly in the back of the skull and hissing as the heat seared her skin.

“I needed it to keep up with you, you freak,” Himiko yelled at him, shoving another contestant out of the range of his blast and earning a tsk from happy-go-murder. “Someone’s gotta clean up your mess.”

“I had it covered, slime-skin,” happy-go-murder grumbled at her. “I know how to aim my own explosions, for heaven’s sake.”

“Well, it didn’t look like it,” Himiko hissed back, spotting another kid cowering behind a building and pointing them towards the smoldering ruins explosion-boy left in his wake.

“You never answered my question,” happy-go-murder pointed out, and Himiko shot him a glare.

“Yes I did.”

“Nah, you said, ‘I need it to keep up with you,’ but you never explained why it’s a Yaoyorozu — or even how.”

Himiko glared at him, tears forming in her eyes, but, just then, a loud rumble echoed through the street — louder than even spiky-boy’s explosions.

Happy-go-murder jerked his head up to the sky, and scowled.

“…The zero-pointer,” he hissed, and Himiko’s eyes widened.

It was… massive.

Present Mic had called it an “arena trap” but she had no idea it would be this freaking HUGE.

“Two minutes left! Let’s see how many extra points you newbies can scrounge up in that amount of time!”

Happy-go-murder tsked, and suddenly rocketed off in the other direction.

“…WHAT ARE YOU DOING?!!!!!” Himiko screamed after him. “What happened to your enthusiasm for destroying robots now?????”

“Not worth it!” happy-go-murder called to her over his shoulder. “That hunk of junk is worth nothing, so I am not helping everyone else get a leg up on me by blasting it to smithereens!!!”

Himiko cursed, but then the zero-pointer started advancing towards her and she had no choice but to back off.

All around her, people were screaming as the giant mech advanced on them, tripping over each other in their haste to get away, and Himiko zeroed in on a kid who fell to the ground, their ankle twisting unnaturally as Himiko could already sense their blood rushing to the injured spot.

“Here! Let me help,” Himiko told them, rushing up to the kid with the twisted ankle and scooping them up in Yuka’s strong arms.

The kid latched onto her shoulders, obviously confused at what this adult was doing at their entrance exam (and maybe even recognizing Yuka, as explosion-boy had) but in too much pain to question it.

Suddenly, Yuka’s arms began dripping off of her, and Himiko hissed, stumbling forwards as her extra muscle mass suddenly vanished.

The examinee screamed with fear as Himiko nearly sent them straight through the nearest wall, directly into her ear, and Himiko just grunted, trying to block it out as she fished in her pocket for another vial of blood, not even caring whose she drank as long as she didn’t end up shirtless in the middle of her exam.

Her form solidified once again, and Himiko kept going.

“…Aaaaand, that’s time!” Present Mic’s voice sounded over the speakers, and Himiko collapsed, the zero-pointer growing still as soon as time ran out. “Everyone, gather outside your respective training grounds, and Recovery Girl will be with you shortly. It was awesome to have you here at UA, and we hope you guys enjoyed your time here, as well.”

The kid in Himiko’s arms whimpered as she set them down, clutching at their ankle and staring up at her with big, wet eyes. “Thank you…”

“No prob,” Himiko replied, surprising herself as Momo’s voice came out of her mouth.

She glanced down at her body, and was relieved to find she had unconsciously copied the shirt she had seen Momo in that morning, so she didn’t have to bear her sister’s naked body to the world.

Footsteps sounded behind her, and Himiko turned just in time to see happy-go-murder glaring down at her.

“…Slime-skin?” he questioned, and Himiko frowned.

“The name’s Himiko, walking disaster,” she retorted, the anger in her tone strange when paired with Momo’s voice.

“Slime-skin,” happy-go-murder nodded to himself, looking pleased at his deductive skills. …Or, at least, as pleased as one could look when their face was drawn downwards into a permanent scowl.

“Yeah yeah, ya found me,” Himiko replied, rolling her eyes as she untied her jacket from her waist and threw it on over Momo’s freshly-pressed uniform, shrinking the last couple inches as she fell back into her normal body. “How’d ya figure it out?”

“Jacket,” happy-go-murder replied immediately, gesturing to Himiko’s clothing. “You’re still wearing the same clothes — I mean, mostly — and it was tied around your waist the same way as before so I figured I’d check. Plus, I didn’t see this face amongst the extras I came here with — a face that is, may I remind you, another Yaoyorozu.”

“Well, make that three, as I’m a Yaoyorozu, too,” Himiko scowled back at him, jabbing a thumb towards her chest.

Happy-go-murder squinted at her.

“…You don’t look like a Yaoyorozu.”

“And you don’t look like anyone important at all!” she flared back, throwing both her arms in the air. “But, unlike you, there’s more to me than it seems.”

“Hey!” he barked, glowering at her. “Katsuki Bakugo is gonna be the number one hero some day, so you better BELIEVE I’m the most important person you’ll ever lay eyes on!”

“Well, Katsuki,” she fired back, relishing in the shock on his face at her daring to insinuate he was immature or — heaven forbid — friends with her. “I can’t wait for the day you find out that you’re the extra in someone else’s story. Maybe when we get our exam results back — and I get in while you’re left in the dust.”

“Yeah, right,” Bakugo scoffed. “As if you could get in when you spent the entire exam running after me. Did you even get one point in, you sore loser?”

Himiko snapped her jaw shut, glaring at him.

Bakugo smirked. “That’s what I thought,” he declared, marching away.

Himiko let both her arms drop to her sides, burying her face in her hands.

…Crap. Crap crap crap, I’m definitely going to fail this thing, huh?

I saw Bakugo get almost thirty points in just the few minutes I was trailing him — there’s no way my twenty-two will be able to keep up.

Maybe Bakugo was the outlier, and not many others would have as many points as he got?

“I racked up thirty-five points during that thing! How many’d you get?”

“Thirty-seven!”

“No way!”

…Crap.

“How’d it go?” Momo questioned as Himiko trudged into her room, glancing up from the formula she was reviewing to greet her sister.

Himiko let out a groan, flopping onto Momo’s bed, and she winced.

“…That bad?”

“Momo I’m dead I’m never getting into UA I’m totally cooked,” Himiko whined into the comforter, curling her fists into Momo’s blankets and kicking her feet. “I was an idiot during that thing and now they’ll be able to see just how horrible of a hero I’d be and won’t even let me take the recommendations exam.”

“Now now, that can’t be true…” Momo tried reassuring her, standing up from her desk and walking over to Himiko.

“It’s so true, I’m deeeeeeaaaaaaaad…” Himiko complained, curling into herself as Momo tried patting her head.

“I— …well, then, tell me what went wrong during the standard and we can try preparing for a way to counteract these follies if they show up during the recommendations,” Momo tried peaceably, then added at Himiko’s groan, “Which you will be allowed to do. Mother and father pulled so many strings to allow you to do this, I doubt they’d let it go to waste.”

Himiko heaved out a long, drawn-out sigh, before finally nodding and turning onto her back, looking up at the ceiling as she told Momo all about the practical.

“It went well at first — I was able to destroy one of the bots on my own, and then I used Armand’s blood to destroy ten more,” she started, Momo rubbing comforting circles into her knee. “But then the blood wore off and this spiky-haired kid — I think he said his name was Bakugo? — started antagonizing me, and I just… gave in.”

Himiko let out a frustrated breath, and Momo took her hand.

“What’d he say to make you freak out so bad?”

“That’s the thing — it was barely anything!” Himiko burst out, waving her free hand through the air. “He called me, like, ‘slime-skin’ and an ‘extra’ or whatever and then just kinda blasted off — he has some weird explosion Quirk,” she quickly added in explanation, and Momo nodded. “And then I just kinda… followed him. He was— …he was kinda tearing through that place, so I wanted to try and stop him somehow, or at least lessen the damage.”

“I— well, that’s a good thing, isn’t it?” Momo questioned, glancing down at Himiko. “The teachers’ll probably notice how you were trying to help — helping is the essence of being a hero, after all! Maybe they add any good things you do to your score?”

Himiko hesitated, staring up at the ceiling.

“…But… they didn’t mention there being any extra points besides the ones you got for taking down the bots…”

“Well, maybe because they wanted any heroism done to be done naturally! A logical deception!” Momo beamed at her.

Himiko let out a breath.

“…Maybe,” she admitted. “But I still don’t feel like I did enough to pass even with that added bonus.”

“Well, it’s a good thing we’ve still got the recommendations then, am I right?” Momo smiled at her, and Himiko smiled back.

“…Yeah,” she agreed.

Chapter Text

The day of the recommendations exam came all too quickly.

Himiko fidgeted in her seat, clinging to Momo’s arm as she stared up at the building of UA outside the car window.

This was it. Her last chance to prove herself.

My only chance, if mom and dad didn’t pull those strings to let me take the standard test, too, Himiko reminded herself, squeezing Momo’s hand.

“…You okay?” Momo asked her softly, and Himiko nodded, unable to say anything else.

It was a Monday.

She wasn’t supposed to have blood on Mondays.

But the recommendations took place on a Monday, so Himiko was going to have to drink some anyways.

Saliva started pooling in Himiko’s mouth, and she had to swallow it down.

Yuka and Sakaeru had been right — drinking all that extra blood during the standard exam had increased her thirst for it near tenfold, almost biting Momo on several occasions as they waited for the day of the recommendations exam to arrive.

I’m so lucky she didn’t tell them about that, Himiko thought, sticking to Momo’s side like glue as they got out of the limousine, unwilling to part from her for even a second now that they were headed into UA together.

It had abated a little bit after three days of nothing, but was still definitely much stronger than how Himiko usually experienced it.

Will I end up biting my classmates? Himiko wondered, only to shake her head, clamping down on that train of thought.

No, she couldn’t think about that right now, not when she needed to focus on actually getting in first.

She squeezed Momo’s hand tighter, pressing into her sister’s side as if they would fuse if she just got close enough.

There weren’t that many people around today — before, the halls were practically filled with people, bodies shoving together to make space as so many hero hopefuls crammed together in the same space, but now Himiko only spotted one or two others as they made their way through the halls, compared to the hundreds of before.

She really thought that should’ve reassured her, but instead it only made her anxiety worse, her and Momo’s heels clacking against the vacated tile hallways in harmony.

Himiko let Momo lead her through the school, too busy trying to wrestle with the heart currently trying to lodge itself in her throat to be of much assistance, and eventually found herself in the same auditorium as before, with Present Mic again at the center of the room, pacing back and forth as he waited for everyone to finish finding their seats.

It was a little bit strange without so many people clogging the seats, Himiko reflected. It was nearly empty with only about forty other people taking up— wait was Momo leading them to the front?

Himiko had to resist the urge to scream as Momo carefully descended the steps until they were at the very front of the room, in the seats closest to Present Mic, clinging to Momo’s arm as her blood roared in her ears, eyes wide in terror.

Momo smoothed out her skirt, straightening her back and sitting as prim and proper as she could while she waited for the presentation to begin.

Present Mic was muttering something to himself as he paced, eyebrows furrowed in impatience as he put a hand to his chin — maybe rehearsing something? Or perhaps just complaining about how long everyone was taking — until he suddenly spotted Himiko, and paused.

She shrank back in her seat, confused and terrified what those green eyes of his were seeing, hidden behind his orange-tinted sunglasses.

“Hey, I know you from somewhere, right?” Present Mic questioned, approaching the spot her and Momo were sitting. “Feel like I’ve seen that face somewhere else before.”

“Uhhh…”

“My name is Momo Yaoyorozu, sir,” Momo replied for her, placing one hand against her chest before gesturing to Himiko. “And this is my sister, Himiko Yaoyorozu.”

“Yaoyorozu!” he snapped his fingers, nodding his head like he just remembered something. “Oh, yeah! You’re the one that was here last time — the kid Eraserhead liked.”

“…I’m the what that who?” Himiko questioned blankly, staring up at him.

“Yeah, I totally remember now! Your parents made you take both tests because of your Quirk, right? What was it again?” Present Mic questioned, and Himiko shrank further in her chair. “Eraser seemed into it.”

“Her Quirk is Transform, sir,” Momo answered for her again, and Present Mic hummed.

“The blood Quirk, now we’re getting somewhere!” he exclaimed loudly, and Himiko wished the earth would just swallow her up right then and there as several other students all turned to stare at them. “What’s it like? I think I remember something about your parents having to warn the school about a certain craving of yours.”

“…Sir, I no longer think this line of questioning is appropriate,” Momo told him, a frown tugging at her features.

“Whaaaat, I was just curious!” Present Mic took a step back, raising both hands defensively. “Anyways, just wanted to say Eraser was blabbin’ my ear off ‘bout you yesterday, so I’m totally rooting for you here! Go, people with weird Quirks!” Present Mic laughed to himself, and Himiko slid entirely underneath the table.

Momo patted her head.

“…Are you okay?” she asked softly, peeking under the desk. “I’m sorry that was so mortifying for you. He seems to be… a lot.”

Himiko nodded. “Oh, he is definitely a lot.”

Eventually, the rest of the students trickled in, and Present Mic was able to get started for real.

“ALRIIIIIIGHT!!!!! What’s up, recommendos?” he questioned, flashing a peace sign before adding, “That’s what I like to call our recommended students.”

Just like with the students from the standard, his enthusiasm fell on deaf ears, Momo staying ramrod-straight in her seat and Himiko still recovering from her brief interrogation.

“So! Just like for our standard students, this exam will be broken into both a written exam, as well as a practical!” Present Mic announced, ignoring the stifling silence of his audience. “But, in addition to that, we’ll include interviews with each of you, conducted by a few of the teachers that work here as well as some special guest heroes!!!!! Aren’t you guys pumped?!!!!”

Silence.

“Well, for now, we’ll begin with the written portion of the exam,” Present Mic continued, only pouting the tiniest bit. “As most of you are scattered about randomly and I’m too lazy to pass out a sheet to each individual person, you’re all to come up here and get them yourselves. Form a line, people!”

The fifty-odd examinees that had arrived for the test all silently shuffled to the front of the room, taking approximately fifty million years for each person to grab an individual sheet, but when it was Himiko’s turn Present Mic grabbed her by the shoulder, causing her heart to leap back into her throat.

“Hey, I know this is the same as the one you took before, but that’s a small price to pay for actually getting in, huh?” he told her, remarkably quiet for a man who was constantly screaming at the top of his lungs. “Just try your best, kid — heck, maybe you’ll do even better this time!”

Himiko nodded nervously, glad he hadn’t brought up her Quirk again, and scurried back over to her seat next to Momo.

…He was right.

The written exam was the exact same one Himiko had received during her standard, and she frowned a little.

Great. I have to suffer through this again.

“…How’re you holding up?” Momo asked after they finished the test, noticing Himiko’s deepening frown.

“‘M fine. This is just… really boring,” she replied truthfully, gesturing to the papers they had just turned in. “It was the same test as my first time through this thing, and… I’m pretty sure I did way worse.”

Momo winced sympathetically, before placing her hand over top of Himiko’s.

“Well, we’re moving onto the practical next,” she pointed out. “Maybe that’ll change your mood?”

Himiko nodded, hoping it was true.

“SO!!!!!!!!” Present Mic screeched, and Himiko winced, certain that he was somehow even louder than before. “Next up is your guys’ practical!!!!!!!! This is going to be much different than the standard; first of all, its going to be split into multiple different parts,”

The screen behind him lit up, and Himiko perked up at seeing four different grayed-out icons, the first one quickly coming into color to show Present Mic himself tearing through a finish line ribbon, some other guy with shaggy black hair and a bored expression not even pretending to run just behind him.

“With the first being… a RACE!!!!!” Present Mic gestured theatrically to the screen, this time getting one or two “ooh”’s of appreciation, which he seemed to deem as a win. “For this race, you’re going to be running six at a time through a three-kilometer long obstacle course using your Quirks. No attacking any of your fellow competitors, as that will result in INSTANT DISQUALIFICATION,” Present Mic made some weird gestures with his hands, pretending to strum an invisible guitar. “Other than that, go wild! You’re trying to show off here, so SHOW THOSE QUIRKS OFF!!!!!!!!!! As well as any other practical skills a hero may need on the battlefield.”

Momo nodded determinedly, and Himiko glanced at her briefly before mimicking the expression.

They were lead to a field in approximately the middle of nowhere, though Himiko was reassured that it was still very much on UA campus, the giant school building just barely visible in the distance, over the trees.

They had all been assigned numbers — Momo was number 21, Himiko 22, and, next to her, she saw a guy labeled 23, half his hair bright white while the other was a dark red.

She tried waving to him, giving the boy her best (toothless) smile, but he barely even spared her a glance, staring forward with a stony expression.

“ALRIIIIIIIGHT!!!!!!!!” Present Mic yelled, and Himiko winced, covering her ears with her hands.

Because they were outside, he was having to yell louder to be heard by everyone, but that also meant that the people closest to him (like Himiko) got absolutely blasted by his Voice Quirk.

“I’m going to be drawing numbers at random here, so, if you hear yours called out, go line up at thaaaaaat starting line!” Present Mic drew several large circles with his arms before finally pointing at the course’s start. He then turned to the table next to him, adorned with a large box filled with several small paper slips, and cleared his throat. “Our first contestant is numberrrrr… 52! Second is 31! 12! 41! 16! Aaaaaand… number 23! Get on up here, guys!!!”

The boy next to Himiko silently stepped forwards along with five others, and Himiko felt an involuntary shiver run down her back.

“Is… is that Endeavor’s kid?” someone whispered, and Himiko whipped her head around in their direction.

“Oh my gosh, it totally is!”

“I totally forgot he was getting into high school this year!”

“Of course he’d get into UA, no questions asked!”

“Yeah, they shouldn’t even bother with this whole shtick for someone like him.”

…Oh no.

If… if that really was Endeavor’s kid…

That meant Himiko’s chances just got a whole lot slimmer.

There are only four spots total for recommendations students, Himiko thought to herself, eying the other contestants — a guy with pale blonde, nearly white, spiky hair and seemingly no lips, teeth on full display. A heavyset man, built like a truck with black hair shaved so close to his head he was almost bald. A guy with spiky brown hair, pulled forwards into a kind of pompadour. A heteromorph, with pale blue skin and several horns. And one more, a man Himiko couldn’t quite make out as he joined the rest of them at the starting line. And fifty of us. What are the chances I’ll be able to make it when someone like him is on the field?

Himiko eyed the rest of the lineup — the people waiting for their turn to race, just like she was — and wondered just how many powerful legacies hid amongst them.

“On my mark! Ready… set… GO!!!!!” Present Mic screeched, hitting a button on some kind of device he held.

The six racers all shot off at the same time, but there was already two of them that stood out above the rest.

Spikes of ice shot out behind number 23, propelling him along, while number 41 just seemed to float along the ground, a whirlwind of air propelling him forwards.

Himiko felt her mouth dry, and beside her, Momo shifted uneasily.

They were both doomed, weren’t they?

It barely took a few seconds for the two real competitors to cross the finish line, Present Mic even letting out an impressed whistle (only further cementing Himiko’s despair) and the rest of the stragglers passed over a couple minutes later — one popping straight out of the ground, Himiko realized with a jolt of surprise.

Present Mic let the finishers move off to the side to wait for the rest of the competitors to take their turns, then read off the next six numbers.

42. 47. 8. 22. 19. 51.

…22?!!!

Himiko felt her heart jump into her throat, and barely even registered Momo nudging her towards the starting line.

She was supposed to have at least one more race before her number got pulled — maybe she could’ve watched Momo race through the obstacle course, just to have a reference for someone with a Quirk that didn’t actually help with speed — but no. No, the universe just had to make her go second.

I’m going to literally die.

She lined up next to the others, shivering violently as she tried to come up with a strategy — something that could help her win this — as Present Mic gently put a hand on her shoulder, smoothing down her jacket.

I still have the one I wasn’t able to use during the standard — Ibuki’s. I already drew blood from mom, dad, and Momo for the standard, so none of theirs. No Armand, either. Three more of the staff gave me their blood, but I can’t remember if any of theirs would be good for—

Cool glass was pressed into Himiko’s hand, and she glanced down.

“Alright, second race of the day! You rookies better be ready because it. Is. About. To. START!” Present Mic played another air guitar solo, and the five others around Himiko shifted in place, staring towards the race course ahead of them.

…This wasn’t one of hers.

“Three…”

Why did she have a vial of blood emblazoned with the UA crest?

“Two…”

Who had given her this vial?

“One…”

Who’s blood did this vial even contain?

“And GO!!!”

Himiko barely even registered Present Mic’s words, only jerking out of her reverie as she felt the whooshing absence of the other contestants as they shot off without her, hastily stumbling after them.

She didn’t know whose blood she currently held.

But she desperately hoped it wasn’t a trick, and that the emblem on the top meant that it was from someone that could potentially even help her.

Himiko uncorked the lid, threw the blood back, and let herself shift.

Like with Armand, Himiko’s arms suddenly grew ten times thicker, a snout forming on her face, but, as she wasn’t expecting it, this time she let it rip through her jacket.

They nearly tore through her pants as well.

Himiko was even taller than the last time she had turned into someone this big — maybe 6’4? 6’5? — and they obviously worked out for more than just sport, as Himiko suddenly shot forwards like a rocket.

She wasn’t as fast as 23 or 41 — not even as fast as some of the people in her own group, as 47 was still in first, swinging from tree to tree with arms made out of elastic — but at least she was no longer in dead last.

Fifth, fourth, and quickly closing on third, this new body was insane, big, hairy arms swinging at her sides as thick legs pounded against the ground, a mane of shaggy blond hair billowing back from her head and flying in the wind.

Himiko felt great.

A massive, thick-toothed, sharp smile spread out across Himiko’s face, and before she even knew what she was doing a howl ripped out of her throat, deep and threatening and real, and Himiko didn’t even realize she had crossed the finish line until she was barreling into first and second place, knocking them both over with a body so massive she was unable to fully control it, chin knocking against the ground and serrated teeth biting straight through her tongue.

“WOAH!!!!!!” Present Mic boomed out, staring at the mess of tangled limbs with mouth firmly on the ground. “Hey, finishers! I thought I said NO FIGHTING!!!”

Momo stared at Himiko — no, not Himiko, but him — and her eyes suddenly widened as she realized what was about to happen.

Materials were already flowing through her mind as she whipped around, racing towards the top two finishers from the first round.

“You!!! One of you two! Take these to her!!!!!” Momo demanded, ripping the extra clothing from her own body and shoving it between numbers 41 and 23.

The son of Endeavor just stared at her.

“Why?” he asked simply.

“Who?” 41 questioned, looking baffled.

“Himiko! The one who just turned into — into him! Just get them to her, please!” Momo glanced back at Himiko, noticing with a sinking feeling how she was already starting to melt back into her regular body, the tatters of her previous set of clothes hanging around her limp form.

41 glanced from Momo to Himiko, before nodding determinedly, a broad grin spreading across his face. “Yes, ma’am!” he declared, before shooting off like a rocket.

Todoroki stared after Yoarashi, and he couldn’t help his shiver as those cold, dead eyes full of nothing but hatred bored a hole in his back.

Himiko shook her head, slowly recovering from her brief bought of unconsciousness, and saw the other two people she had ran over in her haze of delight and uncontrollable power grimacing, trying to wriggle out from underneath her.

Himiko winced, lifting herself off of them and mumbling out a small, “Sorry,” before her own voice came back to her and she froze, glancing down at her chest.

Oh no.

She had transformed into someone even bigger than Armand, without even taking off her jacket.

And was very quickly turning back.

She stared at the slime dripping off of her in horror, her own bare chest starting to peek through the thicker chest of her donor, and quickly threw her arms over herself, shame burning through her cheeks.

Crap crap crap NO no no, this can’t be happening this isn’t real somebody tell me I’m not about to be butt naked in a crowd of all my future classmates PLEASE—

Another whoosh of air, and suddenly a heap of clothing smacked Himiko in the face.

“Here!” a cheerful voice greeted her. “That tall girl with the black hair ripped these out of her arm and told me to give them to you!”

Momo.

THANK THE HEAVENS for Momo.

Himiko slipped the jacket over her shoulders, trembling slightly from the absolute whirlwind of the last few minutes, blood pooling in her mouth from her nearly-severed tongue and tears gathering in the corners of her eyes.

She had used the mystery blood.

It had nearly won her the race.

And now she was dealing with the consequences.

New shirt and pants equipped — shoes and socks still in tatters, but those didn’t matter nearly as much — and Himiko finally let herself take a deep breath, looking up.

Number 41.

Number 41 had gotten her the clothing, and was now smiling down at her as if he hadn’t just nearly seen her crumble into dust right then and there.

“You okay?” he asked brightly, and Himiko nodded shakily, opening her mouth to respond — only for blood to start pouring from her mouth and his eyes bulged dramatically. “Woah! Did you bite your tongue or something? Don’t worry, I’ll get you to Recovery Girl!”

He scooped Himiko up into his arms before she could protest, and suddenly they were zooming back down the field towards Momo, Present Mic and the others.

“I’m Inasa Yoarashi, by the way!” he told her as they whizzed through the air. “And you’re Himiko, right? That was super cool! I was so impressed when you turned into Hound Dog like that!”

…Hound Dog?

Himiko’s eyes widened, attempting to question what on earth he was saying, but all that came out of her mouth was a horrible gargling sound.

“Yeesh, that’s probably bad,” Yoarashi frowned, before his bright, performative smile was back on his face. “But not to worry! I’ll make sure you get treated lickety-split, and then everything will be just fine once again!”

Wow, he’s going to make a great hero someday, Himiko thought dizzily, just as they ground to a sudden halt in front of Present Mic, air still billowing around Yoarashi as he hovered a foot in the air.

“She needs to get to Recovery Girl stat, teach! She’s gargling blood!” he reported, Momo’s horrified gasp sounding out amongst the multitudes of students.

“Gargling blood?” Present Mic questioned, wrinkling his nose. “But… wouldn’t that—”

Himiko opened her mouth before he could say anything else (no doubt something stupid about how her Quirk works) and he abruptly cut himself off.

“…Oh, no, yeah, I’m definitely calling Recovery Girl,” he decided with a wince. “She’ll be over here as fast as she—”

“I’ll meet her there!” Yoarashi declared, zooming off before the teacher could say anything else.

Recovery Girl was barely out the door before Yoarashi was already setting Himiko on the steps in front of her, blood dribbling down her lips and onto her brand new shirt.

“Oh, dearie me, what happened?” Recovery Girl, a short, old woman, asked Himiko, lips already stretching towards her face as she hacked up a glob of blood onto the ground.

“We were doing these races for the practical, and she was doing really well!” Yoarashi replied for her, entirely too cheerful. “She, like, somehow turned herself into Hound Dog, and I think she got in second — or, maybe third, it was hard to tell — but then it didn’t seem like she could control herself and she barreled into everyone else and also ripped all her clothes and one of the others had to make her new ones.”

“Hound Dog?” a frown tugged at Recovery Girl’s mouth as Himiko felt the line of holes in her tongue seal themselves up, along with a wave of exhaustion. “Is that what happened to your mouth, dearie? His sharp fangs were quite the nuisance to deal with back when he was in school — he was always biting someone, be it himself or others.”

Himiko nodded, reaching a finger into her mouth to tenderly feel the scabs that had formed in a matter of seconds. “Y-yeah. I didn’t… um, I didn’t mean to become him, though.”

“Really?” Recovery Girl and Yoarashi questioned at the same time.

“Why not?” Yoarashi asked. “It was super cool! You were absolutely smoking all the other racers!”

“…I didn’t even win,” she pointed out dryly, glaring down at the concrete.

“Ahhhh, I remember reading about you now,” Recovery Girl nodded, and Himiko whipped her head back around to face the old lady, heart pounding in her chest. “You’re the one with the blood Quirk. Aizawa was very interested in how you performed during the standard, you know.”

“…Blood Quirk?” Yoarashi echoed, and Himiko froze.

Crap.

Crap crap crap, she said it and now he hates me forever and won’t ever touch me again because I’m so disgusting—

“That’s so cool!” he chirped, eyes shining as both hands pumped the air excitedly. Then, because of course he had to say it: “…How does it work?”

“…I drink different people’s blood to turn into them,” Himiko admitted after a moment, hands clenching around the fabric of her pants. “I can also copy what they’re wearing, but only if I’m looking at them.”

“Yes, makes me wonder how you got your hands on Hound Dog’s,” Recovery Girl added, giving her a strange look.

“I didn’t steal it!” Himiko immediately yelped, while Yoarashi just grabbed her shoulders, making her flinch backwards.

“That’s so cool!” he repeated, eyes shining, and Himiko just stared at him.

…What is wrong with this kid?

“Do you copy their Quirks, too? Like — you looked completely like Hound Dog, and his Quirk is Dog, so you must be able to, right? Oh, oh! I could give you some of my blood, and you could use Whirlwind to help with the rest of the tests! How long does it last — would I have to give you a lot, or is it just a little bit? Can you turn into animals?”

Himiko was frozen.

What. On earth. Is WRONG WITH THIS KID???????

“N— uh, no,” Himiko fumbled out, eyes wide and heart racing. “I mean, only for heteromorphic Quirks, like his. I couldn’t — if I copied Momo, I wouldn’t be able to use her Creation, and if I copied you I wouldn’t be able to use… Wind-y Wind, or whatever you called it. It’s purely physical.”

“Well, you could still use mine!” he chirped, and Himiko nearly fainted. “I’m pretty strong, so I’m sure I could help you with the rest of the tests!”

“I— I—”

“That’s probably why someone gave you Hound Dog’s,” Recovery Girl pointed out, and all thoughts promptly emptied themselves from Himiko’s brain.

“…What?”

“Well, you said you didn’t mean to become him, meaning you didn’t actually know it was his blood you were drinking, correct?” Recovery Girl questioned, and Himiko gave a hesitant nod. “It only makes sense that someone would have given it to you. Do you know who?”

“…I… wasn’t paying enough attention to see who it was,” Himiko admitted. “I just felt the glass in my hand, and I…”

Crap, no one was going to take her seriously if she admitted to drinking a random person’s blood just because she was freaking out so badly.

“…How did you know it was blood?” Yoarashi asked after a quiet moment. “I mean, sure, it’s red and stuff, but so are a lot of other things!”

“I could sense it,” Himiko replied, drawing a circle into her thigh. “I can — I can smell people’s blood, and sense it whenever it starts to move — like, if they’re blushing, or exercising, or really mad or whatever. So… yeah, I knew it was blood,” she finished lamely.

“…Was Aizawa at the race?” Recovery Girl questioned, and Himiko immediately went to shake her head, only to pause a moment later.

“I… actually don’t know who that is,” she admitted. “But, um, the only people I saw were students and Present Mic, so… I think I probably would’ve noticed him?” Himiko guessed. “Why are you asking about him?”

“He asked me to draw some blood from Inui the other day,” Recovery Girl replied. “He also brought in Nezu, and Ishiyama as well. So… if it was him that gave you the blood, don’t be surprised if those two show up in your arsenal, as well.”

…Who?????? Himiko wondered to herself, but kept her mouth firmly closed. If those were all teachers, then it would look very bad if Himiko didn’t know their names.

A buzzing suddenly sounded from Recovery Girl’s pocket, and she pulled out her phone.

“…Ah, Yamada is wondering what’s taking so long,” she commented, expression calm, before turning to Yoarashi with a pleasant, grandmotherly smile. “Would you be a dear and carry both Miss Yaoyorozu and I back towards everyone else? I was going to wait until the durability trial to arrive, but if this was any indication I think my efforts might be needed a little bit sooner than that.”

“Of course!” Yoarashi exclaimed with a too-bright smile, scooping Recovery Girl up with one arm and perching her on his shoulder before bending back down for Himiko. “Anything to help a teacher at UA!”

Recovery Girl laughed, patting him on the head. “Oh, you’re a bright young man, aren’t you? So polite, too.”

Yoarashi beamed at her praise, and they were once again zooming through the air.

“Himiko! Are you okay?!?!” Momo questioned as soon as they arrived, rushing up to her. “What happened!? How did you transform into Hound Dog, and what made you bleed so much and—”

“I’m fine, Momo,” Himiko replied, climbing out of Yoarashi’s arms and back onto the grass, the overenthusiastic boy shooting off as soon as she was settled. “Just bit my tongue.”

She didn’t want to tell Momo about that mysterious person’s help — this “Aizawa” she was hearing about.

Was he different from the Eraserhead Present Mic had mentioned earlier? Why was he helping her — and how had he managed to collect so many blood samples for her? Were they helping, too, or had Aizawa just tricked them somehow? Was he blackmailing people for her?!

“Did you get to do your race yet?” she questioned before Momo could ask anything else.

Momo hesitated before replying.

“…Yes,” she eventually said. “I was up against numbers 44, 27, 35, 7, and 39. Their Quirks were rather fascinating, actually — 44 is this girl who can separate pieces of herself from her body and then regrow it later. It’s called Lizard Tail Splitter — we talked about it after we finished the race, and—!”

Himiko smiled up at her sister as she rambled, just grateful she had been able to successfully distract her, as cute as it was when Momo started talking like this.

I can’t tell her about Aizawa. Because if I tell her about Aizawa…

I won’t be able to deny the fact that I’m cheating.

Chapter Text

“The second part is DEFENSE AND DURABILITY!!!!!!!!!” Present Mic had shouted, back in the auditorium. “You’re going to be protecting one of our dummies from a simulated villain attack! The rules are simple: no moving the civilian, no letting them get hurt (or, in this case, letting their stuffing get ripped out) and nooooo helpsies! You’re going to be rated on strategy, effectiveness, and just how long you can keep that dummy alive!!!!!”

Himiko shifted on her feet, staring at the screens in front of her.

The school only had about ten rooms for each individual test, so they all had to take turns (again).

Momo had already gone, racking up a respectable 13 minutes and 47 seconds as she practically built an entire fortress around the dummy, only losing once she lost steam and one of the bots managed to bust through her defenses. But, that was nothing compared to Yoarashi and Todoroki.

Both of them had somehow managed to rack up an “infinity” score (something she was convinced Present Mic was making up, as he just didn’t want to sit around and wait another hour for the bots to wear down the kids in question.) Yoarashi was basically a miniature hurricane, throwing bots against every surface imaginable while keeping the dummy perfectly unharmed. Todoroki, meanwhile, just created a massive wall of ice, blocking off every possible route and easily filling in any holes the bots managed to create — after spearing them through the chest with a giant icicle.

As Himiko continued watching, someone else got a score of 12:51 — the lizard girl Momo had mentioned meeting earlier.

“Alriiiiight, you’re up next, kid!” Present Mic told her, walking over to Himiko and slapping a hand against her back. “Try not to make Eraser mad, and — oh, take this,” he dug through his back pocket, pulling out a vial of blood marked with the UA crest, and Himiko’s eyes widened. “Dang, can’t believe I almost forgot a second time. I’m definitely sleeping on the couch tonight, aren’t I?”

Himiko’s hand tightened around the vial, and she tried to speak around the lump in her throat.

“…You’re the one who gave me the first?”

“Yep! And don’t worry, you’re not cheating; since your Quirk requires outside materials, it is absolutely one-hundred percent okay for you to be using blood obtained from us teachers. Eraserhead just thought your family might not be able to provide you with enough of a… what’d he say? Like, variety, or whatever, so he grabbed some from Hound Dog and Cementoss and stuff,” Present Mic explained, gesturing animatedly with his hands as the knot that had settled in Himiko’s chest eased, just a bit. “I woulda given you some, too, but apparently my Quirk is ‘too volatile’ for a rookie like you to use, so he forbade me.”

“…I can’t copy Quirks,” Himiko whispered softly.

“Whaaaaat? Girl, you literally became two massive dog-men — if that’s not copying Quirks, I don’t know what is,” Present Mic replied, slinging an arm around her shoulder and leaning in waaaaayyyyy too close.

“Those were heteromorphic,” Himiko explained, voice becoming even quieter. “Physical. I can’t… Yoarashi offered me his blood earlier. If I drank it, I’d have his hulking body, but none of his wind power. I can’t copy Quirks.”

Present Mic grew quiet for a second, before just replying, “Well, good thing he didn’t give you any of his, then! He’s way too scrawny to be any use in a fight like this!”

Then, he shoved her towards the doors.

“Welp, good luck!”

“Wait, whose blood is this?!” Himiko yelped as she was passed through, but it was too late.

The doors shut behind her, and she took a deep breath.

“User registered. Name: Himiko Yaoyorozu. Quirk: Transform,” a robotic voice sounded from above her, and Himiko tensed, walking further into the center of the room as a platform rose at the back with the dummy she was supposed to be protecting tied to a pole. “Defense and Durability Test initializing in ten… nine… eight…”

Himiko stared down at the vial in her hand, fingers trembling.

It felt heavier than before — colder, too, as if it were sapping all the warmth from the room.

This is the person that Aizawa — Eraserhead — thought would help her the most in this trial.

But, with what Present Mic had said… she wasn’t entirely sure this would be someone she could exactly use, as neither he nor Aizawa seemed to know about her inability to copy Quirks when she transformed.

“Seven… six… five…”

Himiko grit her teeth, before just unstoppering the vial and throwing it back.

She allowed her form to morph slower this time — being careful in case this was another person whose form would rip her clothing — and watched as her skin slowly turned gray, thickening slightly but not as much as Hound Dog or Armand, while also growing more blocky, fingers turning square and legs forming sharpened lines.

Himiko unzipped her plain white jacket — Momo hadn’t had time to make her new clothes anything more fancy — and paused for a second before wrapping it around her neck.

Who was that person Present Mic had mentioned alongside Hound Dog? Cementoss, right?

She could see how his power, had she been able to copy it, would have come in useful for this test — it would’ve been just like Todoroki, number 23 himself, just with barriers of cement instead of ice.

So… will I still be able to use him?

Cementoss’ body wasn’t particularly strong or buff, preferring instead to attack his opponents from a distance, so obviously she couldn’t rely on him for his strength.

Crap. Crap crap crap, think Himiko think!

“Three… two… one. Test begin.”

Immediately, the wall across from the dummy spun around, revealing three different robots that all charged forwards — but not for Himiko.

For the dummy.

The thing she was supposed to protect.

Fear flashed through her — the fear of losing, of not making it in, of being left behind when Momo made it into UA and she was forced to consider alternatives — and Himiko found herself moving forwards, throwing herself between the path of the raging robots and the dummy.

The civilian, or that was what they wanted her to pretend it was.

Himiko was slow.

Cementoss, the person she was cosplaying as, was slow.

But she managed to get in the way of one of the bots just as a metal claw came crashing down on her, and she threw up both arms to defend herself.

Thud. The claw landed against her arms with such force that Himiko should’ve been knocked clean off her feet, probably with a few broken bones.

But she didn’t.

Because she wasn’t Himiko right now.

Cementoss wasn’t strong. He wasn’t buff, he wasn’t a fighter.

But he was sturdy.

And Himiko could use that.

The robot continued trying to drive a hole through Himiko’s arms as the other two sped past, and Himiko grit her teeth.

Not on her watch.

She jumped away from the first bot, running towards the other two, but that previous problem of speed hit her once again, and she reached for her jacket pocket, nearly tearing through it with these big, unwieldy hands of hers.

Thank you SO MUCH for remembering to bring your others into this, Himiko feverishly thought to herself, and quickly popped the lid off Ibuki’s vial.

One of their guards, Ibuki was equally tough as Armand, one of the two powerhouses she had been granted, with a Quirk Himiko wasn’t aware of the details of besides the obvious — his two massive ram’s horns, spiraling out from the center of his forehead.

Himiko launched herself at the robot closest to her, smashing into it with Ibuki’s horns and tossing it to the side with a shake of her head before continuing onto the next, grabbing it by the throat (or whatever the robot equivalent of that was) and smashing its face into the ground.

The first one rammed into her back, and Himiko winced.

Now that’s what I was expecting that first hit to feel like.

She reached inside of herself for that first vial of blood, and shifted back into Cementoss’ form just as another claw swiped for her ribs.

Thud.

Just like before, it didn’t hurt half as much as she expected to, and Himiko melted back into Ibuki just in time to catch it right in the sensor with a fierce punch.

All three robots down.

The floor opened, and three more took their place.

Himiko didn’t waste a second.

Punch, shift, block, shift again, use her horns, punch, kick, shift, block, shift, punch—

Himiko fell into a delightfully unfamiliar rhythm, slime dripping off her form just as freely as the oil from the robots spilled onto the cement, and the world around her blurred into a whirl of fists, metal claws, horns, and glass shattering under her fists.

Shifting between the two like this, flowing as easily as water from one form to the next, Himiko was able to double the time she would have had from Ibuki’s vial, a fact she only realized once it ran out.

She moved to crunch another robot beneath her fist, but found only Cementoss’ hand instead, denting the metal but not pulverizing it.

…Oh no.

It only took two more seconds before Himiko was flat on the floor, pinned by one bot as the other two ripped the dummy in half.

“Test concluded. Please make your way out of the facility to receive your time.”

The robot on top of Himiko drew back, following the other two into the hole that opened up beneath the demolished training dummy, and Himiko let out a breath as the pressure on her ribs vanished.

She had done it.

She hadn’t won exactly, but really, who could blame her for not reaching infinity when her competition was Yoarashi and Todoroki?

Himiko hummed, pleased with herself, as she tugged her jacket off her neck and shifted back into her own form.

I still have some left.

She had finished a test and still had plenty of Cementoss’ blood in her system, even if she had lost Ibuki’s.

Aizawa must’ve thought I’d spend a lot more time on this one — probably expected me to reach infinity with Cementoss’ Quirk, just like Todoroki did with his.

Her hand poked through a hole in her jacket pocket, and just a little bit of horror slipped in between her elation as she glanced backwards.

A puddle of blood stained the ground, shards of glass scattered around it.

…I really am going to have to rely on Aizawa’s kindness now.

But if things went anywhere near the same way they did for this one, that wouldn’t be too bad, would it?

Himiko steeled her expression, allowing a small smile to spread across her face, and skipped out of the training room, turning to the screens spread out across one wall to look for her time.

…10:25.

She blinked.

Alright… that’s not the worst time, I suppose, she thought to herself, a little more of that creeping dread pooling in her chest. Only a couple minutes off of Momo’s time.

Another student finished, and Himiko felt her stomach bottom out.

Infinity.

Another examinee had reached infinity, and it wasn’t even Yoarashi or Todoroki.

Himiko was dimly aware of the third infinity contestant leaving his own testing facility — the kid with nearly-white hair and teeth on the outside of his skin. Number 16, the one who had raced with 23 and 41 and moved through the ground as if it weren’t even there.

He gave her an odd, nervous look as he watched her chest heave and face pale, but didn’t say anything, only giving the leaderboard a brief glance before walking away.

Himiko jumped as a hand landed on her shoulder.

“Himiko?” Momo questioned softly, leaning down so she could look her sister in the eye. “…How are you holding up? I watched how you did in there, by the way — you were amazing!” she told her brightly, but as Himiko continued to just stand there silently, tears pricking her eyes as if she had just seen her entire family murdered in front of her, Momo bit her lip. “…I know these people are incredible. I know how terrifying it is, having perfect examples of not only power but adaptability in Yoarashi and Todoroki…” she glanced at the board. “…And now Honenuki seems to be climbing the ranks, too. But we have to believe, Himiko. Maybe… maybe one of them will slip up during the last two practicals, or perhaps during the interview. We have to believe, or else we’re doing all of this for nothing.”

“…There are already three slots taken up by those monsters,” Himiko whispered, just wishing she had even a fraction of the power behind herself as Yoarashi had. “If no one else shows up to challenge it, you’ll take the fourth. And… and then…”

Momo wrapped her up in a hug before she could finish that sentence.

“We’re both getting in,” she whispered, firm yet extraordinarily soft. “No matter what. You… you could’ve gotten in during the standard. Maybe this whole thing is just a… a victory lap for you.”

“…One of the teachers is helping me,” Himiko whispered. Momo stiffened. “Aizawa. He had Present Mic give me Hound Dog’s blood, and then Cementoss’. He’ll probably give me another during the tactics round, and one more for the combat. He wouldn’t be doing that if I passed the standard.”

Momo pulled back from Himiko, staring at her.

“…Doesn’t that count as cheating?” she whispered, voice just barely trembling as she tried to hold it together.

“Present Mic said it didn’t,” Himiko replied, still not looking Momo in the eyes. “But it doesn’t matter now. I smashed my vials from home. I don’t have any other choices, Momo.”

“You what?” Momo took a step back from her, glancing up at the screen and towards the training room Himiko had used, eyes instantly locking on the puddle of blood and glass as a worker drone swept it up.

“It was an accident. I must’ve ripped my jacket pocket while fighting, or maybe when I grabbed Ibuki’s blood,” Himiko replied, voice dead, numb. “Now I only have the remainders of Cementoss and whatever else Aizawa feels like throwing my way.” Tears started flowing down Himiko’s face, and her voice finally broke. “I’m done, Momo. I’m out of ways to qualify. I was never going to be able to beat you, and I certainly don’t want to force you out of UA when it was your dream since we were kids. Face it. I’m completely finished.”

“Heeeeeey, there’s Eraserhead’s favorite entrant!” Present Mic chirped at the worst time. As always. “That was sick, what you did out there! Don’t know who that other guy was, but you rocked that thing!”

Himiko slowly turned her head to face him, tears still dripping down her face.

He didn’t seem to notice.

“Keep this up, and I’m sure Eraser’ll be able to enact this big ol’ scheme of his!” Present Mic slung an arm around her shoulders. Himiko just stared.

“…Aren’t I losing?” she finally asked. “Todoroki, Yoarashi, Honenuki… even Momo got a better time than me. Doesn’t this mean I’m failing?”

“On the contrary!” Present Mic declared, raising one hand and nearly poking Momo in the eye with his pointer finger. “You were already suuuuper close in the standard, so Eraser’s found a way to make this count towards that — stacking your points on top of each other so you’ll qualify for a standard spot, even if you can’t make it through the recommendos.”

Momo looked horrified.

“Excuse me?!?!?!” she gasped loudly, one hand on her heart before she could reign herself in. “But — sir, the rules state that a person can only take one test or the other — standard or recommended — and the only reason Himiko is even here right now is because our parents managed to strike a deal where, as long as she qualified using one entrance exam, they could ignore the other. Take the highest score, not combine the two!”

“Ahh, we got a rule follower here, eh?” Present Mic pulled back from Himiko, folding his arms as he looked to Momo with a small smirk. “Look, kid — as much as I’m sure you’d love to think the world is as rigid as your textbooks say it is, things work a little differently out here in the real world. If Shota says he sees a girl with hidden potential on one side and a kid with waaaaaay too perverted motivations on the other, he can totally bend the rules just enough to make sure the better kid has a shot at UA, even if her power’s not the best for exams like this — especially when she doesn’t even have access to the people that can make her Quirk really pop.”

“But—”

“Do you want your sister to fail?”

Momo fell silent.

Present Mic smirked. “That’s what I thought.”

“Now, let the adults decide how to run their school their way, and you just worry about whether or not your hair looks good,” Present Mic told her, stalking off, and Momo raised a hand to her ponytail self-consciously.

“It looks fine, he’s just salty about you questioning his boyfriend,” Himiko reassured her, and Momo paused, shock on her face, before letting out a small, amused snort.

“His what?!”

“When he gave me Cementoss’ vial he made some comment about being forced to sleep on the couch,” Himiko shrugged. “Figured they were probably dating or married or something.”

Momo tried and failed to suppress her smile, raising one hand to cover her grin. “I— I don’t— Present Mic and Eraserhead?” she questioned, before pausing. “…Actually, now that you mention it, I do think I remember reading something like that about them… but I could’ve sworn it was just a gossip magazine.”

“Well, maybe the gossip got it right,” Himiko replied with a grin. “For once.”

Momo broke down into full on giggles, and Himiko felt the last dredges of her despair fade away.

Even if I don’t get in, at least Momo will be happy.

Chapter Text

“Third is Tactical Problem Solving! We’ve received profiles including your personalities, strengths, weaknesses, and, of course, Quirks, for each of you, so we’ve been able to prepare several individual tasks for you all to complete on. Your. Own !!!!! Yes, that’s right, all FIFTY-THREE OF YOU will be competing at the same time !!!!!!!” Present Mic had told them. “You’ll be provided with your task as soon as you enter the facility, so be prepared for anything — and I mean ANYTHING, newbies!”

Himiko shivered as she recalled Present Mic’s instructions, stepping into the entirely darkened hallway.

A voice — the same robotic one that had greeted her during the defense drill — played over the speakers.

“Four villains have kidnapped an innocent civilian, and are now pretending to be injured after their hideout has collapsed in an effort to fool the heroes hunting them. Your task is to find the real one, and bring them out safely without getting distracted by any of the decoys or attacking anyone. You have twenty minutes. Good luck.”

Himiko’s surroundings brightened, and she gazed about the hallway around her.

It looked burned down, with several beams and piles of ceiling, walls, or other debris scattered strategically around the area to trip her up.

Attacking anyone? Himiko wondered. They’re assuming I’m going to attack someone?

“We’ve received profiles including your personalities, strengths, weaknesses, and, of course, Quirks,” Present Mic’s voice echoed in her head once again.

…Ah. Of course. They had her history .

Himiko tried to swallow down the lump in her throat, and pulled out the newest vial Present Mic had handed her.

“You may not have his Quirk to rely on, but I’m sure this’ll still come in useful,” Present Mic had told her as he gave her this new specimen.

You better be right, Himiko thought to herself, downing the vial.

She immediately grimaced.

Animal blood.

Seriously? Was he trying to trick her?!

Himiko glared down at the empty vial, tears pricking her eyes because how dare he give her a dud right after she lost all her other options?!?!?!

A wooden board hit the floor some feet ahead of her, and Himiko jumped.

Right. She still had a test to take.

No matter what kind of blood Present Mic had given her.

At least she still had a bit of Cementoss’ blood circulating in her system.

Himiko pressed forwards, ducking under wooden boards and leaping over piles of rubble.

…But she couldn’t help noticing there were an awful lot of small spaces an animal body could easily fit through.

Did he… does he not know I can’t transform into animals? Himiko wondered, a bit of guilt rising inside of her for being so quick to rise to anger. I would’ve thought it showed up on my Quirk registration form, but maybe… mom just forgot to update it?

Or he missed it entirely.

Himiko shook her head, forcing all those unhelpful thoughts out of her head because, intentional or not, Present Mic had handed her animal blood, therefore forcing her to rely simply on her own body and whatever scraps she had left of Cementoss.

Ugh, I totally should’ve experimented more with how long each vial lasts, Himiko grumbled to herself as she rounded another beam sticking out of the ceiling, only to jump back as part of the ceiling followed it, dropping to the floor in front of her. They gave me more of Cementoss’ blood because they figured I would use more, so obviously there is some connection to how much I drink versus how long it lasts. I wonder how much I’d need to last me a whole—

“Help!”

Himiko blinked.

Already?

She would’ve figured the victim would be located farther into the facility, but maybe this was part of her test — seeing whether or not she’d go with the first person she sees, when common sense dictated that, by all accounts, they really should’ve made the test last as long as—

Himiko froze as soon as she rounded the corner.

The victim.

They were real .

A woman with long, dark hair gazed back at her from the dimly-lit room, clutching one arm as she stared up at Himiko with big, pitiful eyes, and as soon as Himiko noticed the red dripping from the wound she prepared herself for the surge of hunger that always hit her when she saw other people’s blood.

…None came.

“Please, help me, my arm, it hurts so much—” the woman pleaded, reaching towards Himiko, but she continued just staring at her.

Why aren’t I hungry?

Himiko sniffed the air, trying to puzzle this confusing mess out as she took a hesitant step forwards.

The woman’s eyes flashed with satisfaction, and Himiko realized what was going on.

“…You’re not injured,” she replied flatly.

“Wh— yes I am,” the woman snapped, glaring at Himiko and gesturing to her bloody arm. “Can’t you see that? Aren’t you a hero , little girl? Heroes are supposed to save people.”

“Not people that aren’t even in danger to begin with!” Himiko replied cheerfully, spinning around and marching out by herself. “Find the exit by yourself — it’s down that hallway, to the right. I’m going to go find the person who’s really injured.”

“Come back here and help me!!!” the woman screeched out from behind Himiko, and she felt a brief surge of anxiety — had she been wrong? Were they only using fake blood because real blood was too dangerous?

No, Himiko steeled herself. No, they know my profile — and it says I can sense different people’s blood. That’s the entire reason they gave me this task — to see if that sense could be fooled. But I won’t be.

Another burst of nerves exploded in her chest, and she quickly reassured herself, If I can’t find the real victim in the next fifteen minutes, I’ll come back for her.

Himiko walked for only a few more minutes before she found the next one.

A man, probably in his twenties, with a severe gash on his forehead, dripping blood into his eyes.

“P-please…” he whispered, sounding barely conscious. “I don’t want to die… don’t leave me here, don’t leave me, please don’t leave me—!”

He reached one hand out to her, but Himiko didn’t take it.

His blood wasn’t real, either.

It continued like that for the next few minutes — Himiko occasionally hearing calls for help, echoing through the building, then finding the person and seeing that their blood was fake.

Though the fourth was the one that really threw her.

“You’re just like what they said you’d be,” he snarled as she tried to walk away, and Himiko froze, blood pumping in her ears. “You’re that freak — the monster, the one who doesn’t care about anyone but herself and blood .”

“…You’re wrong,” Himiko whispered, balling her hands into fists as she stared down the long, wrecked hallway.

The man barked out a hollow, eerie laugh, echoing down the halls and piercing her skull.

“You think I haven’t heard ? You’re that hero who attacked an innocent just because they had fresh blood dripping from their wrist. Face it, you don’t deserve to be here.”

Ignore it. That never happened. He’s an actor — lying about hypotheticals just to get under your skin.

But he was a very good actor.

“You’re a monster, a demon wearing human skin!” he yelled, voice tinged with mania. “You don’t deserve the title of hero !”

Himiko couldn’t take it anymore.

She bolted down the hallway, breathing raggedly as she pressed her hands to her eyes, fighting the urge to cry.

Don’t listen DON’T LISTEN he doesn’t know you that NEVER HAPPENED—!!!!!

She stumbled over a large piece of crumbled ceiling, falling onto her hands and knees and letting out a sharp curse as she felt blood pooling around her scraped knee.

“…Hello?” a voice whispered, and Himiko jerked her head around.

The doorway to this next room was blocked — a large piece of debris had fallen in front of the entrance, and, Himiko noticed with another flicker of annoyance, with just enough space for a small mammal to squeeze through.

Okay, he really thought I could use that animal blood, didn’t he?

“Don’t worry!” Himiko called out, struggling back to her feet. “I’ll get you out of there, just hold still!”

“Please hurry!” the same voice as before whimpered back. “My ankle… it’s… it hurts so much…”

Cementoss’ sturdy form fell over Himiko’s shoulders, and she tugged her jacket off as she moved to force the rocks away from the doorway.

As soon as she spotted the person inside — another woman, with pink-striped auburn hair and several cuts littered about her body, including an especially nasty-looking puddle around one ankle — her eyes flashed in surprise, obviously unprepared for seeing this random pro at this training exercise.

Himiko shrugged her jacket back on, secreting slime as she shrunk back into her own skin, and quickly approached the injured woman. “Don’t worry, I’ve got you—”

The stench of blood — real blood, not the fake stuff she had gotten so used to during her encounters with the other four — met her nose, and she stumbled, nearly falling straight to the floor.

“Are you okay?!” the woman asked, worry staining her tone, though she managed to keep at least mostly in-character as her voice was still wobbly with (hopefully) fake pain.

“Y-yep, totally good, lemme help you up,” Himiko replied through clenched teeth, voice heavy as she grew increasingly unable to tear her gaze away from one particular cut on the woman’s arm.

That was where the real blood was coming from.

The woman was silent as Himiko lifted her up onto her shoulders, taking some of her weight on herself as they stumbled towards the finish line.

The woman still pretended to favor her blood-soaked ankle, even though Himiko knew it was fake.

She nearly snorted, but held it back — if this was supposed to be a real victim, then they wouldn’t have fake blood on them. Every injury would be real, not just the one that let Himiko know this was the person her test was really about.

“Everything is going to be fine, you’ll be alright, I’ll protect you,” Himiko told her, trying to infuse herself with just a little bit of the acting skills she had seen from the performers around her. Because if she acted like a hero, maybe she could convince herself she was one.

The woman smiled at her, approving, and let Himiko continue to guide her out of the building.

What Himiko wasn’t expecting, though, was the sudden cacophony of voices .

“SHE’S THE FAKE!!! YOU WEREN’T SUPPOSED TO RESCUE HER !!!!!”

“What are you doing?!?!?! You’re going to fail !!!!”

“Save me , not her !”

And then, with that familiar, manic voice, echoing down the hallway: “ Monster !!!!! You only chose her because she had the most blood on her !!!”

Himiko shivered, and the woman snapped her head around to glare at that last voice, after pretending not to hear the first three.

“…Takahashi was not supposed to go that far,” she grumbled, forgoing the weak, scared voice she had been using so far to spit at her coworker.

“Takahashi?” Himiko questioned, shifting the woman in her arms and trying to pretend she wasn’t very much breaking character right now. “Scruffy red hair, deranged look in his eyes, pretended his shoulder was the thing injured?”

“Yep, that’s him,” the woman confirmed, and Himiko hummed.

“Yeah, he was talking like that to me almost as soon as I tried to walk away — started making up stuff about a hero career I haven’t even lived yet,” Himiko told her, and the woman scowled. “Honestly, he was probably the reason I found you — I tripped after running away from him, and scraped my knee pretty bad. That’s… probably how you heard me in the first place, when I started complaining about it.”

The woman’s eyes softened, and Himiko ducked her head, embarrassed.

“I’m sure you would’ve found me on your own,” she comforted her, and Himiko bit her lip.

“Sure.”

They reached the door Himiko had entered through, and the mechanical voice from before spoke up again.

“Contestant: Himiko Yaoyorozu. Status: passed. Awaiting further judgments on performance.”

The woman immediately got off Himiko and stretched her hands up above her head.

“Good job, kid — even if Takahashi was being an absolute piece of work about the whole thing,” she congratulated her, and Himiko beamed — before her face immediately fell into one of horror and shock. “Wanna lick this? I heard you like drinking blood.”

“Wh— no ????? That’s not— I’m not supposed to—” Himiko spluttered, taking a few steps back with wide eyes. “Is… is this still part of the test???”

“No, it’s not,” the woman replied in amusement, smiling down at Himiko. “I actually was the one that applied for the role of actual victim because there was a chance you would attack me — or at least that’s what the people who prepped me said,” she added hastily at Himiko’s crestfallen look. “I’m fine with the sight and smell of blood, and don’t actually mind it that much when I get any cuts — plus, it’s very funny to have a teenage girl try to bite me just ‘cause she’s hungry.”

“It is not!!!” Himiko protested in a squawk, taking a few more steps closer to the exit. “Nothing about this is funny!”

“Whatever you say, kid,” she replied, ruffling Himiko’s hair as she passed. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I need to wash all this blood off of me and take some proper care of this cut.”

Himiko stared after her for a long, heart-pounding minute, before finally following the woman outside.

Thankfully, that had given her enough time for that lady to disappear — and for Momo to be there in her place.

“Himiko!” she greeted her cheerfully, running up to her sister. “How’d it go? I saw this woman, like, completely covered in blood pass by here, so I was a little worried at first but she reassured me you ended up passing. …You did pass, right?”

Himiko tried to force a smile. “Of course I did! No need to fret over me that much, you big ol’ worrywart.”

Momo laughed. “I’m so glad. …Why was she covered in blood, by the way? Did you—”

The other four actors trailed out of the room, all covered in relatively equal amounts of blood, and Momo jumped back.

“… What is going on ?!”

“Part of my test,” Himiko replied, and the one with red hair — Takahashi — reached forwards to ruffle her hair.

“You did well, kid,” he smiled at her.

Himiko’s throat constricted.

The other three immediately leaped to her defense.

“Yeah, no thanks to you !”

“What were you even thinking , tormenting her like that?!”

“We were explicitly instructed not to pull anything that harsh!!!”

“…What happened,” Momo questioned flatly as she glanced between Himiko and Takahashi, a protective frown on her face.

“ This dingus thought it’d be a great idea to disobey the director’s orders,” number three told Momo, shooting Takahashi a glare.

“She was literally abused as a kid !!!” two joined in.

“She’s still a kid!” number one agreed.

“Hey, I was just doing my job!” Takahashi protested with a scowl, glaring at the other three.

“How is it doing your job if you’re specifically disobeying instructions?” Momo asked coldly, and Takahashi made a face.

“ Whatever . You idiots just don’t know what it takes to be a real actor,” Takahashi declared, stalking off.

Momo glared at him until he disappeared from view, and then some.

“The final part of your practical is gonna be this: a FACE-OFF!!!!!” Present Mic had announced. “You’re going to be fighting against each other, one-on-one, in controlled arenas we have prepared beforehand. But, this thing isn’t to win — in fact, the faster you defeat your opponents, the less points you’ll score! Again, to repeat what I said during the racing segment, this is to show off your Quirks . Since we know some of yours require actual, physical people to fight against and not just a bunch of robots, you’ll be assigned your partner at random from the rest of the contestants here. …Oh, but number 53 is gonna hafta fight against me , because we don’t have an even amount of students this year. Everybody got it?!!!!!!! You’re showing off your Quirks , your ability to strategize in real time , and, for those of you with the really big guns, your restraint .”

Himiko shifted on her feet, eyeing the girl Present Mic had set her against — Setsuna Tokage, the lizard girl Momo had raced against. The one with the score of 12 minutes and 51 seconds in the durability test.

Himiko didn’t know how she had done during the tactical, but she was pretty sure this was a woman to be feared.

Tokage grinned at her, two rows made up entirely of pointy, sharp teeth, and Himiko felt her stomach flip.

She’s like me, Himiko thought to herself dizzily, trying to ignore the weird warmth burning in her cheeks. She’s got fangs, too.

But, unlike Himiko, Tokage was entirely too pretty for her own good.

…Mostly Himiko’s own good.

She bared her own fangs at Tokage, and she actually appeared to laugh , seemingly pleased at this similarity between the two of them.

DO NOT focus on how pretty she is when she laughs, Himiko thought determinedly (cough cough, desperately ) at herself.

Momo glanced between Himiko and Tokage, before just sighing.

“Himiko. She’s your opponent , not your lover. Please treat her as such.”

“I never said —!” Himiko started to splutter, only to fall silent at Momo’s disbelieving stare.

“…At the very least please don’t start following her around like a lost puppy once this is over,” Momo requested, and Himiko groaned, covering her face in embarrassment.

“ Noooo …”

“Kid!” Present Mic popped up out of seemingly nowhere, and, for once, Himiko was actually glad for the distraction. “Here’s the last vial Eraserhead prepped for you — use it wisely! Or, y’know, don’t.”

Momo stared uneasily at the vial.

“And you’re… sure this isn’t considered cheating?” she questioned warily.

“Kid needs outside materials for her Quirk to function,” Present Mic told her simply. “So we’re providing her with some. Whether she was the one to grab these herself or Eraser just so happened to feel generous one day, it really shouldn’t matter. It’s still her Quirk that activates at the end of the day.”

Momo bit her lip, glancing away, and Himiko took this time to ask a few questions of her own.

“Hey, who actually is it this time?” she asked, lifting up the bottle and giving it a swirl — this one seemed even bigger than Cementoss’ vial. “I’d prefer to know who I’m turning into before I actually turn into them, just in case I end up losing all my clothes again from transforming into a way-too-buff guy.”

“Ooh, good point,” Present Mic nodded. “Wouldn’t want to replicate the chaos of that race you participated in. This stuff belongs to Sekijiro Kan — mister Vlad King himself.”

Vlad King.

Himiko’s world narrowed to just her and the vial, heartbeat thundering in her chest.

“—If it were up to me, I’d’ve set you up with just a bit more of Hound Dog’s blood, but Eraser insisted something about you needing a ‘variety’ to ‘show off your skills,’ but really — if one guy gets the job done, then why even bother —” Present Mic continued, not even noticing how Himiko had stopped paying attention.

The Blood Hero.

Himiko’s throat tightened, the words blood Quirk blood Quirk blood Quirk blood Quirk — stampeding through her brain over and over again.

He’s like me.

But WAY better.

Himiko sensed eyes on her, and she glanced up to find Tokage giving her a worried frown.

A blood Quirk user and a girl with fangs.

This is sure shaping up to be an… interesting match.

Present Mic shook Himiko.

“Hey, kid, are you even paying attention?” he questioned her, and Himiko had to blink before tuning herself back into Present Mic’s inane ramblings. “I asked why you didn’t use any of the blood I gave you for the last round.”

“…You gave me animal blood ,” she pointed out. “I can’t transform into animals.”

“Wait, but Nezu—” Present Mic’s brow furrowed, before his eyes suddenly widened. “Oh, crap , really?!?!!! I could’ve sworn Eraserhead looked at your file closer than that — why didn’t he tell me you couldn’t turn into animals?!!! …Wait, if that’s the case, why did he give you Nezu’s blood to begin with???????”

Himiko let out a breath, the knot she hadn’t even realized was still there loosening in her chest.

So, they really didn’t know I couldn’t turn into animals.

“You were trying to turn her into the principal ?” Momo questioned, somewhere between horrified and secretly intrigued. “What — why would you want to do that ?”

“Small,” Himiko replied immediately, and Present Mic brightened at her perceptiveness. “I noticed lots of little nooks and crannies I could’ve fit through if I got turned into a little animal guy.”

“That’s Principal Little Animal Guy to you ,” Present Mic grinned at her, and Himiko beamed back.

Everyone’s so nice to me here.

If I really can get in… if Aizawa’s strategy works…

I could become friends with Yoarashi.

If I’m lucky, I’ll be put in Vlad King’s class.

And even if I’m not… I’ll still have this weird old man and his boyfriend to lean on.

And, of course, Momo. Can’t forget Momo.

Himiko steeled herself once again, clutching Vlad King’s blood in her hand, and turned to give Tokage her most determined look.

You’re going down , no matter HOW pretty you are!

Chapter Text

It took unbearably long for Himiko’s match to actually start .

There were only three arenas — less than half the amount of rooms they had available for the durability test — and Himiko just sat on the sidelines, watching numbers 36 and 15 fought against each other, then 18 and 6, 48 and 14, 29 and 7—

When Momo’s number got called, 21 versus 46 — a boy with some kind of slime, or maybe glue Quirk? Her weapons seemed to slide off against him one moment, then stick to the sludge the next — number 44 slid up next to her, and Himiko froze.

“Hey,” Tokage greeted her, her sharp teeth glinting in the overhead lights. “You’re Himiko, right? Yaoyorozu’s sister?”

Himiko frowned, glancing back towards Momo as she grit her teeth, glaring at slime-boy as a shield materialized from her arm.

“I’m a Yaoyorozu, too.”

“Oh! Sorry, sorry, I didn’t mean to—” Tokage replied hurriedly, stretching her hands out towards Himiko apologetically. “…I just meant, you’re, um, Momo’s younger sister.”

“…Younger?” Himiko echoed, and Tokage screwed her face up again.

“Did I get it wrong?”

“I’m actually a year older — got held back once while dealing with some… personal stuff,” Himiko replied vaguely.

Tokage hesitated, glancing up towards the ceiling, before asking cautiously, “…When you got adopted?”

Himiko let out a long-suffering sigh. “…Yeah.”

“I just figured, y’know, since you seemed pretty defensive about being called a Yaoyorozu, as well as your Quirk being so drastically different from hers — plus, you, ah, don’t exactly look all that similar,” Tokage finished wryly.

“Oh, really? I couldn’t tell,” Himiko replied sarcastically, wrapping a few of her thin blonde strands around a finger as she glanced back down towards Momo’s thick black ponytail.

Tokage laughed, and Himiko smiled, a pleasant warmth erupting in her chest.

“I like you, kid—”

“ Year older .”

“— Year older kid ,” Tokage amended, and Himiko giggled into her knees, golden eyes shining as she gazed up at Tokage. “I like you. Ya’ve got spunk. …Hope you’re able to keep it when I pound you into the ground.”

“Hah!” Himiko couldn’t help the laugh that escaped her, unusual confidence blazing in her veins as she stared back at the (slightly) taller girl, wielding her vial of blood like a weapon. “Yeah, right, like I’m going down that easily.”

Tokage lowered the vial from her chin with one finger, curiosity burning in her eyes. “Hey, by the way, what even is this thing? I saw Present Mic hand it to you earlier, and I’ve been wondering about it ever since.”

“What, think I’m cheating ?” Himiko questioned dryly, and Tokage quickly shook her head — though Himiko wasn’t entirely certain she trusted that response. “I just need some outside resources to help with my Quirk — some extra materials to help it activate. I manged to get a hold of it through some extra paperwork I had to sign.”

A lie, but Tokage didn’t need to know that — after all, Present Mic had said it was technically legal.

Her Quirk, her win, no matter whose blood she drank to get it.

“Just making sure it isn’t hard drugs or anything,” Tokage grinned back, though her eyes still shot back down to the vial. “…I noticed you drank something before the race, too. Another one of these things?”

“Yeah,” Himiko nodded, starting to feel a prickling creep of anxiety as Tokage seemed determined to reach an answer about what was actually inside of the vials.

“It let you turn into Hound Dog,” she pointed out, and Himiko nodded nervously. “And — I think I saw Cementoss in another of your rounds?”

Himiko bit down on her lip, not liking where this was going but unable to think of a way to stop it.

“It has UA on the cap…” Tokage muttered, trailing one finger over the crest and then down the side of the glass. “And, whatever it is, it’s red …” Tokage paused, realization breaking out across her face, and Himiko bit down harder, causing blood to start leaking from her mouth.

Just like the stuff in the vial.

“…You have a blood Quirk ?” Tokage asked incredulously, and Himiko jolted her hand back as if burned, clutching the vial to her chest. Please no please don’t stop it please I know where this is going— “…Interesting.”

Himiko blinked.

Interesting?

It wasn’t Yoarashi’s enthusiastic acceptance, sure, but it certainly wasn’t the disgust Himiko was expecting.

Tokage tilted her head up to stare at the ceiling, thinking, but not saying anything mean or awful.

…Everyone at this school is weird , Himiko decided.

Tokage glanced back down at Himiko, a pensive expression on her face, and Himiko realized her eyes had fallen down to look at Himiko’s mouth — at her fangs.

And your lips, that traitorous voice at the back of Himiko’s mind told her, and she felt her face warm.

“…Guess I need to stay away from your teeth, huh?” Tokage commented, and Himiko made a face. “Wouldn’t wanna give my enemy Lizard Tail Splitter in the middle of combat.”

“I can’t copy Quirks,” Himiko replied, and then, because of course Tokage didn’t believe her, “Only heteromorphic ones. I copy the physical , nothing else.”

“…Interesting,” Tokage mused, turning away from Himiko once again, and Himiko — like the attention-seeking idiot that she was — found that reality very disappointing.

So she added, “The only thing that would happen if I bit you would be me suddenly becoming much prettier.”

Tokage burst out laughing at that, doubling over as she clutched at her stomach, and Himiko grinned.

She really is so pretty when she laughs.

Momo’s match finally ended, and Himiko’s stomach jolted as the next one was called — “22 versus 44! Head on over to your stage, girls!!!!!” — and Tokage patted her on the back.

“Whelp, seems our time here is up — and the real fun is just beginning. Can’t wait to shatter this in your hand before you even take a sip,” Tokage grinned at her, and Himiko realized what this actually was as a pit formed in her belly — a resource gathering mission.

No wonder she waited until Momo left.

Himiko and Tokage made their way towards the arena, and Tokage cracked her neck, grinning at Himiko.

“Three…”

“Ready, dead girl?”

“Two…”

“I think you’ll find the only dead girl around here is you .”

“One…”

Tokage’s fangs glinted in the overhead lights. “Oh, it is on .”

“Go!”

Tokage split apart into several different pieces — head, arms, hands, torso, legs, feet — and Himiko couldn’t help her eyes from widening, caught off guard by just how weird the entire process looked.

Tokage used that to her full advantage.

A hand immediately shot for the vial, while a foot moved towards Himiko’s leg, several more body parts swirling around her head, and Himiko was just barely able to dodge in time, jumping over the leg and just barely missing the hand as she rolled forwards, protecting the precious vial with her entire body.

Himiko didn’t know why she didn’t just drink it — maybe she was worried she’d digest it too fast, maybe she wanted to keep it for later — …or maybe it was because this was Vlad King’s blood, and Himiko didn’t feel worthy enough to ingest even a single drop .

Because he was better than her.

Because, even though his Quirk was also blood-based, he didn’t have the insatiable urge to consume , to take the blood of others and keep it all for herself, taking them , stealing their skin and molding it to perform acts the unwillful donor would never dream of doing, not in a million years.

So she didn’t drink the blood, didn’t wear his skin — didn’t even turn into Cementoss, using the last few drops she could feel inside of herself.

Tokage watched Himiko, brow furrowed, obviously confused as to this course of action but not saying anything — perhaps worried her words would remind Himiko of its existence, or shock her into drinking it.

Another hand rushed towards Himiko — this time shooting for her neck — and Himiko reacted instinctively, darting out with a hand and throwing the other one as far across the arena as she could.

“Aww, trying to hold my hand? How cute,” Tokage teased her, and Himiko immediately flushed.

“That wasn’t— I didn’t—!”

Tokage laughed, and Himiko couldn’t help but watch in fascination and slight horror how her mouth detached from the rest of her body — all the others up to this point had been focused on her joints, so it was kinda unsettling to realize she could remove other parts, as well. “Got a crush, cutie? How sweet .”

Himiko flushed even brighter, and was almost clocked by a spare piece of forearm as it zipped in front of her face.

Himiko had never bitten another person before.

She had chewed on herself often enough, back before she was adopted by the Yaoyorozus and was set up with a constant supply of blood, and had even received a plentiful collection of chew necklaces and other things to satiate her other urges, but she had never bitten another person.

So, when that piece of arm shot by her head, bringing with it the hazy scent of blood and flesh, Himiko was probably the person most surprised when her jaw hinged open and clamped down around the fleshy object.

Tokage gaped at her as blood poured from the wound, pooling around Himiko’s teeth and dribbling down her jaw.

“I thought you said you couldn’t copy Quirks !” Tokage yelled at her. “Were you— were you lying to me?”

A soft ripple spread out across Himiko’s skin, darkening a few shades as she grew the single centimeter that separated her and Tokage, and dark green curls spilled down the sides of her head.

“It tastes good!” Himiko defended herself, tongue darting out to capture the last few droplets collecting around her mouth and brushing against the extra fangs Tokage had in her mouth. She tastes like cinnamon.

“…You didn’t even do that for a reason ?!” Tokage barked, voice somewhere between laughter and bewilderment.

Himiko flushed again.

“Hey, I said turning into you would make me prettier. Is that not reason enough?” she questioned.

Tokage settled on laughing. “At least wait until we’ve had our first date , sheesh!”

Himiko’s brain then promptly shut off, and a stray limb or two hit her in the face and side.

“ That’s not funny !!!!!” Himiko screeched, reflexively dropping Tokage’s form in her embarrassment.

“Aww, sorry cutie, did I hurt your feelings?” Tokage grinned, and Himiko glared at her, before promptly popping open Vlad King’s vial and swallowing the contents.

Tokage’s expression dropped.

The Blood Hero tasted — unsurprisingly — of blood.

But fierce blood, thick blood — literally, too, the liquid coming out as a solid, viscous substance, coating her throat and bathing her insides in red.

Didn’t Recovery Girl say she only drew blood from Hound Dog, Nezu, and one other guy? Himiko realized. I’ve been given four different vials now — and only one of those people can control blood.

So, what would happen if Himiko drank a vial of blood that had been tampered with ?

Nothing, apparently.

Himiko stared down at her hands, willing them into the shape of the Blood Hero: Vlad King, but they stayed the same, small, Himiko-shaped hands as before, though her Quirk did try offering her up a bit more time as Tokage, almost as if in consolation.

…Well, gosh-freaking-dangit.

“…What, too scared to show off your power ?” Tokage teased, relaxing once again.

Himiko threw the vial directly at her face, nailing her between the eyes before it fell onto the ground to shatter on the floor.

“Just give me a minute!” Himiko replied, desperately hoping it was true. “This one is taking a bit to kick in!”

Tokage laughed. “What, did they give you a fake vial ?”

“Shut up!”

Did they?

It wasn’t animal blood this time — it tasted like people blood , like hope, and trust, and dependability — but she still wasn’t able to shift.

Himiko fell tears prick her eyes, and she ran forwards to throw a punch at Tokage — only to find herself suddenly bulking up mid-punch, arm lengthening so suddenly that Tokage couldn’t react in time to dodge her.

“I told you it was taking a bit!” Himiko chirped, pleased, and forever amused by the big, deep voice of the hulking men she transformed into speaking like a cheerful little teenage girl.

But then her form flickered, and Himiko already started dripping skin-colored slime onto the padded mat beneath her.

Nonono please not now it’s barely been two seconds— Himiko pleaded, swallowing again as if she could force the viscous blood back into her body, into her new shape. I was given so much ! I shouldn’t be dripping like this!

Also, with her sudden transformation, Himiko hadn’t had time to shrug her jacket off.

It was in tatters.

Again .

Suddenly, Himiko felt two feet firmly plant themselves into her back, and Himiko found herself falling to the floor, winded.

Had Tokage reassembled herself to throw that kick at her while she was distracted?

Another kick threw itself at Himiko’s skull, and she found herself looking up at Tokage’s floating torso.

…Ah. Just her legs, then.

But… where were her arms ?

The feet suddenly disappeared from her back, and she felt arms grab onto her shoulders — onto the remnants of Vlad King’s hero costume, still slowly melting off her form.

They slowly lifted her up, and she found Tokage staring down at her worriedly.

“C’mon, I thought you said you could fight ,” she prodded, and Present Mic’s warning flashed through her mind: “The faster you defeat your opponents, the less points you’ll score!” “Don’t leave me hangin’, blood girl.”

She needs me to fight to win.

Himiko nodded, abandoning Vlad King’s glitchy form altogether, and suddenly felt very glad she had impulsively bit Tokage earlier.

Because now I can have CLOTHES.

Himiko thought Tokage’s shirt was pretty cute — a simple purple sweater, it complimented her eyes nicely, though the sleeves hung weirdly when Tokage separated her arms from her body.

Himiko moved to try and throw another punch at Tokage, but a wave of dizziness washed over her and she staggered forwards.

Yeah, getting kicked in the head will do that, Himiko thought blearily, hitting the mat once again.

“Himiko Yaoyorozu is unable to battle! Setsuna Tokage wins!” Present Mic’s voice shouted over the speakers, and Himiko stared into the mat.

Don’t faint don’t faint don’t faint you’ll wind up naked if you faint—

A blanket draped itself over her shoulders, and Tokage’s soft voice greeted her.

“Sorry I kicked you so hard. Sorry you keep winding up naked. And… sorry I’m just not interested. You’re cute, but not really my type.”

Himiko let out a soft whine, wanting to give anything in response to that — “I’m fine,” “Didn’t expect you to want to date me anyways,” “I’m used to it,” — but unable to form any words when the world was spinning so badly.

The blanket settled on her shoulders, and Himiko let Tokage’s form drop.

Momo made her another new set of clothing and, because it was no longer an emergency to get her covered before the entire world saw the last of the slime drip off her body, she was able to make it just a little bit more fashionable than a plain white jacket and pants.

Himiko requested she make Tokage’s sweater.

Momo laughed, but did it anyways.

“The purple suits you,” she told her softly, and Himiko beamed.

When the last of the matches finished up, Present Mic went and found her.

“Okay, what was wrong with the blood this time?” he questioned, rubbing the bridge of his nose in exasperation. “I saw you transform for like, a second , but it seemed waaaaay more unstable this time. Why is that?”

“Felt weird,” Himiko replied simply. “Sticky. Do you know how it was extracted?”

“Uhhh— probably with his Quirk, why?” Present Mic replied, before it seemed to click into place. “ Ohhhh . You think him controlling his blood to put it in the vial made it unusable?”

“Maybe,” Himiko hummed. “That, or I just wasn’t able to digest it in time — his blood feels much better now, more… solid. Less melt-y. …Wait blood is a liquid how can it be solid?”

Momo gave a small laugh and bumped Himiko with her shoulder.

“Well, whatever happened, it’s not like it matters much right now , right? We’ve finished with the practicals. Now, we just have to do the interview.” Momo looked to Present Mic expectantly, and he gave a dramatic gasp, placing a hand against his chest.

“What, you think I’m just gonna go ahead and spoil the entire thing just because she’s Eraserhead’s favorite? No way, José!” Present Mic made a large X motion with his hands, and Momo just stared at him patiently.

“You’re the announcer . Go announce the next part of the exam,” Momo told him, soft and slow, as if she were explaining something to a child.

Present Mic’s face flushed slightly, and he grumbled, “I was just giving everyone a little break …” before stalking off.

Momo sighed, before resting her head on Himiko’s shoulder.

“…You bit Tokage,” she pointed out, soft, factual, not accusatory in the slightest, but Himiko tensed anyway.

“I… I didn’t mean to…”

“So then why’d you do it?”

Himiko bit down on her lip, and Momo gently rubbed her hand over Himiko’s arm.

“I won’t judge you. I just… I’ve never seen you bite another person before. Why her? Why now ?” Momo questioned. “You’ve been drinking plenty of blood all day, so I wouldn’t have thought your thirst would spike now .”

“Maybe what mom and dad said about me drinking too much and setting my Quirk off was right,” Himiko suggested, though she didn’t entirely believe it — because biting Tokage hadn’t been about hunger, or thirst, or the roar of a monster making her act out.

Himiko licked her lips.

“…Do you… it probably means something that the first person I bit is someone I have a crush on. Right?”

Himiko almost wanted Momo to say no.

No, Himiko, your Quirk isn’t tied to your emotions — it’s perfectly safe gaining crushes on every single person you meet!

…Momo did not say no.

The younger Yaoyorozu lifted her chin off Himiko’s shoulder, tilting her head as she tried to settle all the thoughts in her brain.

“…You told me once that my blood was the one you preferred most, even over mom and dad,” Momo pointed out, and Himiko tensed. She remembers that?!?!

…Of course she did.

She was Momo Yaoyorozu , of course she remembered the comment Himiko made at eleven years old when she was pouting about not being able to have her favorite flavor every time she drank some of her family’s blood.

“And the stuff you tell me about it often seems to reflect your relationship to the person — you said the blood of the staff doesn’t taste like much other than iron and hard labor,” Momo continued. Stop remembering things!!! “So, I think it’s only right to assume your cravings would be the most exaggerated around the people you’re closest to — or, at least, the ones you feel the greatest attraction to, be that platonic or romantic.”

Himiko made a face.

“Sometimes, I wish you weren’t so smart,” she admitted, and Momo laughed, high and chiming.

“Well, it was only simple logic — besides, you were the one to suggest it in the first place! I might not have realized, had you not—”

“Aaaaaaalright contestants!” Present Mic’s voice sounded out over the arena, and Himiko relaxed. His timing is getting better, she thought appreciatively. “We’ve concluded the last section of the practical part of your exam, so the next and final thing we have is this: the interview !!!!!!!! Several UA staff members have volunteered to give you bright young kiddos the chance to try and impress them, not with your skills or your actions, but with. Your. Words !!!!!! So, everyone, please file out back towards the auditorium where you first arrived. You will then wait patiently — or, if you were anything like me as a kid, not that patiently at all ! — for each of your numbers to be called, and follow after your respective teacher to conduct your interview. Got it, kids??????!!!!!!!!!!!!!!”

Himiko released a breath, and grabbed Momo’s arm.

“C’mon, let’s go get this whole thing over with ,” she practically begged, and Momo nodded, not quite catching the undertones to Himiko’s pleading.

Chapter Text

Himiko tapped a pencil against the desk, one, two, three, four, and many more times, letting the writing utensil rest between her pointer and middle finger as she flicked it back and forth.

Momo had been gone for almost twenty-five minutes now.

Is that a good thing? Or a bad thing? Some of the others only lasted fifteen minutes… so does that mean they failed early, or were just so dang impressive that they didn’t need to speak with them any longer?

The interviews were performed in numerical order, so Himiko couldn’t exactly compare Todoroki or Yoarashi’s interviews for reference.

Though, there was that other guy, the one who reached infinity during the durability trial… and his interview lasted exactly twenty-three minutes and eight seconds.

Momo had timed it.

She’s so weird, Himiko thought fondly, a small smile tugging at her face, only to jump as Tokage slid into the seat next to her.

“This thing is taking aaaaages,” Tokage complained, slumping against Himiko, who immediately froze, a rush of confusing emotions swirling in her chest. “We’ve barely gotten to number 21, and we’ve been sitting here for, like, multiple hours already. No wonder they told us to set aside our entire day for this…”

“Mm, yeah, you’re probably gonna hafta wait awhile, being number 44 and all…” Himiko hummed, and Tokage laughed.

“Ya got some spunk, kid, I like it,” Tokage told her, ruffling Himiko’s hair. “And, hey, would you look at that — seems like someone has a new outfit, for the hundredth time. But I wonder why that shirt looks so familiar…”

Himiko flushed, hiding her face in the purple sweater. “I dunno what you’re talking about… I only had to change outfits twice.”

Tokage grinned.

“Mmm, yeah, I guess I shouldn’t be too surprised… after all, it’s not like you’d have a reason to copy me, like if you had a crush or something — oh, wait.”

Himiko shoved her, face burning.

“ Stoooop iiittttttt …”

Tokage’s smile only widened, and she flung an arm around Himiko’s shoulders. “Hey, I don’t mind — I think it’s pretty flattering, actually, having you copy me like this. Makes me feel like I’m doing something right, even if it’s just to catch the eye of a cutie like you.”

“Do you even realize what you’re doing right now?” Himiko squeaked out, and Tokage blinked.

“Doing what?”

Himiko gestured vaguely between the two of them, before her eyes landed on the spot where she had bitten Tokage and felt a sudden wave of regret hit her.

“…Hey, um, how’s… how’s your arm doing?” she asked softly, and Tokage paused, as if trying to register this new sudden shift in conversation, before just smiling again and pulling up the hem of her sleeve.

“Peachy keen, like it never even happened!” she beamed, and Himiko let out a sigh of relief as she gazed upon the smooth, unbroken skin. “Lizard Tail Splitter allows me to regenerate parts of myself, so it barely even hurt for a minute before I just decided to grow a new piece.”

“Thank goodness,” Himiko replied. “I’m… really sorry about that, by the way. I… I don’t usually bite people.”

“Really? Then what are the fangs for?” Tokage questioned, flashing her own set, then laughing at Himiko’s expression. “Yeah, I got that a lot, too; some people can be really heartless, even when they don’t mean to be.”

“They usually mean to,” Himiko grumbled darkly. “At least, to me.”

“Mmm, yeah, blood Quirk and fangs, not the greatest combination,” Tokage grimaced empathetically, resting her head against the side of Himiko’s. Seriously, does she even realize what she’s doing? “I just had to deal with the pointy teeth comments, and those were seriously some of the worst moments of my life. Can’t even begin to imagine how terrible your life must be.”

“Oh, gee, thanks,” Himiko replied sarcastically, narrowing her eyes at Tokage, and she gave a rueful smile.

“Sorry, didn’t mean to make it sound like that. Just — you were adopted, right? Did your birth parents have those fangs, or…?”

“…My Quirk is a mutation,” Himiko replied flatly, emotionlessly, and Tokage’s expression flashed with panic, terrified for the child that had been forced to live in a situation like that.

“I am so s—”

“Number 22,” a voice called out into the room, flat and dry, and Himiko pried herself off of Tokage.

“Sorry, that’s me, gotta go,” she replied tersely, taking that chance and running with it as she moved towards the man with long, greasy black hair, tired eyes, and a long, gray scarf wrapped several times around his shoulders.

“Himiko Toga?” he questioned dryly, and Himiko winced.

“Himiko Yaoyorozu, actually,” she quickly corrected, hoping she didn’t sound too rude, and something hidden flashed in the man’s eyes.

Approval?

Disdain ?

It was hard to tell.

“Follow me, Yaoyorozu,” he instructed her, and Himiko quietly followed after him, heart already trying to clamber its way into her throat.

He led them to a room with the label 1-A scrawled in massive red lettering along its (extremely tall) door.

Is this his classroom? Present Mic said we’d be getting interviewed by teachers, so…

The greasy man sat down at the desk at the front of the room.

“Do you know who I am?” he questioned.

“Uhhh…” Himiko glanced about the room, trying to figure out where to sit, or if she should. “No? …Should I?”

“My name is Shota Aizawa,” he said, and Himiko took in a sharp intake of breath. “Hero name Eraserhead, and teacher of Class 1-A. I take it from your reaction you might’ve heard of me before?”

“I… uh, yeah, you could say that,” Himiko stammered, staring at him. “Present… Present Mic mentioned you. Recovery Girl, too.”

“How interesting,” he replied, as if she had just told him the weather outside was partially cloudy.

Is he not the guy that’s been helping me this entire time?!?!?!???????

Himiko opened her mouth, closed it, and Aizawa flicked his eyes up from the paperwork in front of him.

“Sit down,” he invited — no, commanded — gesturing to the twenty other desks in the room.

Himiko decided to just sit in the one closest to herself, feeling very awkward.

Aizawa cleared his throat, shuffling the papers one more time before looking at her dead-on.

Please go back to studying your papers, Himiko begged. You are very scary.

“Your efforts during the practical were… commendable, if not the highest-scoring,” he told her, and Himiko flinched. His cold, dead eyes made a mental note of the action, but he didn’t comment on it. “You received third place in the race after turning into Hound Dog. You scored 10 minutes and twenty-five seconds during our defensive testing. The tactical was your best — you didn’t succumb to any of the moral failings presented to you, even though you only used your Quirk once, to move a blockade on the door stopping you from reaching your target. The combat scenario, on the other hand…”

Himiko took a big gulp of air, even as Aizawa glanced back down to his notes.

“…Was definitely your worst. You barely put up a fight against Tokage, and when you did use your Quirk, it was first to turn into your opponent — not a very tactical move, but not technically a mistake, either — and then to turn into Vlad King. When that happened, you managed to land a single punch against your opponent before reverting back to Tokage’s form, losing your clothing in the process,” he suddenly squinted at Himiko’s shirt, and she put her hands protectively in front of it, not wanting to be judged for copying Tokage’s look. “…Tell me, what caused your hesitation?”

Himiko darted her tongue out, wetting her lips, and took in a deep breath before answering.

“I couldn’t digest his blood in time,” she explained. “He extracted it from his body using his Quirk, and that made it a bit… unstable. … Sticky ,” she added, quieter, just to herself.

Aizawa caught it anyways.

“Yes, yes, completely understandable — but you barely tried to target your opponent before that, as well. You rolled to dodge her first attack, threw her hand across the arena, was briefly distracted by her teasing, and then proceeded to bite a piece of her body. You turned into her, exchanged a few more words with your opponent, switched back, and drank Vlad King’s vial. When nothing happened, you threw the vial at your opponent’s head, and then proceeded to punch her — shifting mid-throw to catch her off guard. Though, with your reaction afterwards, this didn’t seem intentional. Vlad King’s form started to drip off of you, and Tokage managed to pin you in your distraction. She kicked you once, pulled you up with her arms, and you shifted back into Tokage’s form to slip out of her grasp, only to immediately collapse. Is there anything I missed?”

“…No,” Himiko grumbled. Except how it all felt.

“Good. Then, tell me — why didn’t you try harder?”

Himiko sunk her fangs into her bottom lip.

“…Because she was pretty,” Himiko mumbled after a second. “And distracting.”

“Pretty and distracting isn’t gonna cut it,” Aizawa told her sternly. “Why didn’t you drink the blood as soon as the match started? In fact, you could’ve drank it before the match, just to make sure she didn’t break it during your fight.”

Himiko froze.

“…I didn’t think of that last bit,” she admitted. “It just — it felt like something I should do during the fight, not before. —Plus, I didn’t want to waste any of it, in case the match lasted a while.”

“That still doesn’t answer why you didn’t drink it first thing.”

Himiko stared down at the desk in front of her, fangs sinking even deeper into her lip.

“…Because it was his,” she finally admitted. “And… and I didn’t feel worthy of it.”

“Elaborate.”

Himiko tensed, shoulders shooting up to her face and tears pricking at her eyes.

She tried to answer anyways.

“B-because he’s Vlad King,” she replied, voice wobbly. “The Blood Hero. And… and I’m just me. The girl with the blood Quirk, and the girl too dangerous to be trusted with that blood Quirk.”

“Why do you feel you’re too dangerous to be trusted?”

Is this guy trying to break me?

“B-because I want to bite people,” Himiko replied. “Because of my Quirk. I drink blood, he just uses it. He doesn’t… doesn’t hurt people just because he can.”

“And what makes you say that?”

Himiko paused.

“…What?”

“He’s a hero,” Aizawa elaborated. “Hurting people is his job, outside of being a teacher. Why does that register as good to you, when your own instincts don’t?”

Himiko fell silent.

“Put it down!”

“Oh, heavens, what have you done this time?”

“Good girls don’t want to drink blood!”

“…Because of my parents,” she whispered, the words lingering in the air.

Aizawa stared at her for a moment, two, tracking the tears falling down her face, before glancing down at his papers and making a small note.

“…Now, how would you rate your control over your Quirk, on a scale of one to ten?”

Himiko blinked.

What?

What had happened to the hard questions — the ones about her fight against Tokage, about her reverence towards Vlad King, about her parents?

Aizawa raised an eyebrow at her, awaiting her answer, and Himiko let out a long breath.

“…Three,” she replied, and his eyebrows shot even higher. “I can barely control my own urges sometimes.”

“…But you do control them,” he pointed out, not accusatory — the same flat, logical voice he had been using the entire time. “That was proven just today, in fact, when you passed the technical.”

Himiko shifted in her seat.

“…Yeah, but… it was only barely,” she muttered. “I got distracted by some of the actors, so that definitely helped.”

Aizawa stared at her silently for another minute, before jotting something else down.

“…And what do you feel of your skill with your Quirk? How confident do you feel of the aspects included when you’re actually transforming into people?”

Himiko opened her mouth, closed it, and then decided, “Seven. Maybe eight…? No, definitely seven. I can easily tell which people each drop of blood inside me belongs to, shift between multiple different people, and keep up whichever form I want to for the full duration their blood allows me to. The… ah, the only thing I’d really want more control over is how I kinda… rip my clothes every time I turn into someone too big, but I… don’t really think that’s something I can change, given how my Quirk works.”

“Probably not,” Aizawa agreed with a hum, and Himiko relaxed, nodding. “Now, next question: are there any limitations in how difficult certain forms are to hold instead of others?”

And so it went on.

Aizawa continued asking her basic, boring questions which she answered easily, the most stand-out of the bunch being “Do you understand the legal implications of impersonation with a Quirk like yours?” but she was still able to answer within only a few handful of seconds, thinking back to the hours she and Momo had spent pouring over every single hero legal book Momo could get her hands on.

…Aaaand then they promptly got harder again.

“What do you do when you get the urge to bite someone?”

Himiko paused, staring at him.

“… Don’t ????” she tried.

Aizawa sighed, looking up at her and giving her a flat look.

“Let me ask this again: what are the soothing techniques, if any, that you use to restrain yourself from biting another human being?”

Himiko bit her lip.

“…I used to bite myself,” she admitted. “When I was little. Now, um— mom and dad got me a Quirk counselor. They said I need to breathe, and take things slower. Think about what that would to do the person I ended up biting.”

“Do you actually employ any of these when you’re out in the field?” he questioned, and Himiko stared up at the ceiling.

Did she?

She thought back to the technical, when she was guiding that woman to safety, the scent of her blood wrapping around Himiko’s head and poisoning her thoughts.

“…Kinda,” she replied. “If I breathe too deeply, I end up taking in too much of their scent and just making it worse. And… and I’m not too good at the ‘selfless’ portion of that assignment.”

“Elaborate.”

Himiko made a face. “…I think about what the consequences for me would be,” she admitted. “About how I couldn’t be with Momo— be a hero if I bit someone.”

Aizawa raised a single eyebrow.

“And what are your motivations for becoming a hero?”

Himiko stared at him, wide-eyed.

“…Can I skip this question?” she asked nervously.

“No. You may not.”

Himiko looked down at her desk.

“Because… um, because I… want to help people?” she tried.

She didn’t look up at him, but she could feel Aizawa boring holes into the top of her head.

“Try again.”

“ Becaaaause … I…” Himiko started, scrambling to remember Momo’s reasoning.

“The truth, please,” he pressed, and Himiko shrunk in her seat.

“…Because I want to be with Momo,” she admitted. “Because I don’t ever want to be alone again, to be tossed aside and into the gutter just because I’m not the perfect child everyone wants me to be.”

Aizawa hummed, tapping his pencil against his desk.

“…You know, if you were anyone else, I would’ve accepted that answer,” he mused, and Himiko couldn’t tell if he were talking to her or to himself.

“…What? But I said the truth that time!” she protested, shooting back up in her seat.

“Yes, the truth, but not all of it,” he replied, looking back up at her. Whyyyyyy are his eyes so creepy? “Tell me, doesn’t any of this feel like something… bigger? Like those smaller pieces are just part of a bigger whole — one you don’t want to admit, even to yourself.”

Himiko just stared at him silently.

And thought about his words.

Part of a bigger whole?

What could wanting to be with Momo do with being part of a ‘bigger whole’?

It took a few minutes, but Himiko’s eyes finally widened.

“…Because I want to be loved,” she breathed. “Because… because I want people to look at me the way they look at Momo, as if… as if I’m someone worthy of being loved, of being… cherished. Maybe I’d even finally score a date,” Himiko’s jaw snapped shut as soon as she said that last part, eyes widening and a blush dusting her cheeks.

“Good,” Aizawa replied, not even taking a moment to acknowledge that last embarrassing realization. “Now, have you ever bitten someone for a reason other than activating your Quirk?”

Himiko just flushed further.

“Uhhh — I literally just bit my first person today, so…”

“And was it to activate your Quirk or not?” Aizawa questioned, raising a brow.

“…She smelled good and I wanted to look like her and be like her,” Himiko whispered, and Aizawa nodded.

“Good, I thank you for your honesty. That concludes this interview.”

Himiko blinked.

“Wait— waitwaitwait—”

Aizawa silently raised an eyebrow at her. “Yes?”

“Aren’t— aren’t you going to tell me why you helped me?” she asked. “Why you went through the trouble of getting all that blood for me — and why you were so nice in this interview.”

“I’m never nice.”

“Maybe, but it certainly felt like there was a reason you were giving me so many chances to fix my mistakes,” Himiko pressed on stubbornly. “Plus, I wasn’t supposed to be able to transfer my points, like Present Mic was saying you were doing for me — please, why are you doing all of this?”

“I am doing no such thing,” he replied, gathering his papers and standing up. “You got into UA all by yourself — it just took a bit more pushing to get the judges to decide your rescues were worth more points.”

Himiko gaped at him, and he gestured towards the door.

“Now, I need to get going, I still have more interviews to conduct. Are you going to leave on your own, or do I need to make you?”

“N-no sir, thank you sir,” Himiko stated hurriedly, standing up and following after him on wobbly legs.

What just happened what just happened what just happened—

Momo greeted her with a hug, mumbled something soft about her interview with Midnight being so uncomfortable, and walked out the door holding her hand.

Himiko’s brain was too fried to attempt any form of response.

A week later, the acceptance letters came.

Himiko’s was from the standard.

All Might — the number one hero , of all things — explained how she got in, that he would be working there this year, and that he looked forward to seeing her in his class.

There was no mention of her points being transferred.

There was no mention of Aizawa — Eraserhead — or Present Mic.

Momo squealed with delight when she realized they had both managed to get in, and Himiko just let her hug her, too overwhelmed to say anything meaningful.

Because Himiko had gotten in.

And she wasn’t sure if it was because of Aizawa… or because of herself.

Chapter Text

Himiko shifted on her feet, trying to catch a glimpse of tall, broad shoulders and close-shaven head.

“Looking for Tokage?” Momo questioned in amusement, and Himiko flushed.

“Wh— uh, no, I was…” she tugged on the sleeve of her blazer, looking towards the ground. “…I was actually looking for Yoarashi. The— the one that brought me those new clothes when I ripped them during the race.”

“…Oh,” Momo paused, remembering the tall, beaming man. “…Do you have a crush on him , then?”

Himiko flushed even further. “N— well, maybe? He’s kinda like a puppy. A massive puppy, but still a puppy, all the same. He was… he was nice to me. I just wanna see him again, to say… thank you.”

Momo gave her a soft, loving smile. “Look at you, finally growing up.”

“I’m older than you!” Himiko protested, and Momo laughed.

Yoarashi wasn’t in the entryway.

He wasn’t in the hallway.

He wasn’t in the classroom… though someone else was.

Katsuki Bakugo whirled around with that same familiar glare, and Himiko wrinkled her nose at him.

“Oh, great,” she grumbled. “It’s you .”

“ Yaoyorozu ,” he hissed, steam practically rising from his spiky hair. His red eyes flicked to Momo. “ Both of you, this time.”

“I can’t believe I have to share a classroom with you ,” Himiko complained, throwing her head back in exasperation. “You sure you didn’t take a wrong turn somewhere? 1-A is for winners , not you .”

“I FINISHED NUMBER ONE IN THE PRACTICAL!!!!!!!” he screeched at her, explosions crackling off his palms, and Momo zeroed in on them.

“…Ah. Bakugo, I presume?” Momo questioned him, and Bakugo sniffed, shooting her a glare.

“Stay out of this, extra.”

“That’s my sister , you dingus ,” Himiko told him, eyes narrowing. “Or, should I say, happy-go-murder?”

“I am NOT happy-go-murder!!!!!!!!” Bakugo roared, surging towards her. “You take that BACK , slime-skin!!!”

Suddenly, a metallic shield shot out in front of Himiko, and Momo glared Bakugo down as he seethed, turning his attention to her , instead.

“I said ,” he hissed. “Stay out of this.”

“Katsuki,” Momo stated clearly, and Bakugo gritted his teeth. She’s probably not even realizing she’s done it, but that’s the exact same thing I said to get under his skin, Himiko remembered, beaming at her sister. “We are in class right now. Please, do not attack your classmate when we haven’t even had our first lesson .”

Bakugo just continued glaring at her.

“…Wait, did she call him happy-go-murder ?” someone in class whispered, and Bakugo whipped his head around.

“Oh my gosh, he hates it,” another realized, a grin spreading across their face.

And then… the person Himiko had almost forgotten about.

“Sssssoooo, happy-go-murder,” Mina Ashido said, sliding up next to Bakugo with a smug grin, almost like she had some kind of death wish . “How’re you holding up? Any, ah… anything you’d like to declare to the class?”

Mina just barely ducked the explosion Bakugo let off in her face.

“DO NOT CALL ME HAPPY-GO-MURDER!!!!!!”

“Kacchan?”

“That’s even worse !” Bakugo flared, spinning back around, only to fall dead silent.

Himiko turned around, following his gaze to a rather plain-looking boy with messy green hair and a startled expression.

“… Deku ,” he growled, and the boy standing in the doorway stiffened, fear flashing over his features.

“H-hi Kacchan! I, uh, guess we’re in the same class, huh…” “Deku” replied, rubbing at the back of his neck with a nervous smile.

“You know this guy?” Himiko questioned, tilting her head at Deku and jerking her thumb to point at Bakugo.

Deku seemed to notice her for the first time, and immediately jumped backwards, face turning bright red.

“U-uh— y-yeah! Kacchan and I go way back!” he stammered, and Himiko glanced between the two of them.

“You’re… friends ?” she questioned, brow furrowing.

“IN HIS DREAMS!” Bakugo roared. “That dang nerd is lucky he even got into UA in the first place!!!!! There’s no way I’d be friends with a loser like him!”

Himiko looked between them again, before nodding sagely and replying, “Ah, I see. Unresolved sexual tension.”

Half the class burst out laughing, Mina doubling over a desk as she wheezed, while Deku and Bakugo both looked horrified, one more flustered than the other.

“YOU STUPID EXTRA !!!!!!!!” he threw himself towards Himiko, this time Momo not reacting fast enough to stop him, and grabbed Himiko by the throat, pinning her to the wall. “You have NO IDEA WHO YOU’RE DEALING WITH RIGHT NOW!!!!!!!”

“Y-yeah I do,” Himiko wheezed as Bakugo clutched her windpipe, scrabbling at his hands. “Katsuki Bakugo, the guy who needed little ol’ me to… to clean up his messes.”

Bakugo forced her further into the wall, and Himiko gasped weakly, unable to force his hand away from her throat.

“Hey! Woah there, cool your engines!” someone else suddenly spoke up, and Bakugo, still clutching onto Himiko’s windpipe, was suddenly lifted into the air.

“H-HEY! DANG EXTRA, WHAT DID YOU DO TO ME????!!!!!!” Bakugo yelled, flailing as he floated through the air, and a pair of worn, calloused hands pried Bakugo off of Himiko, a soft, round face frowning up at him with eyebrows narrowed in frustration.

“You’re going to stay right there until you apologize to her,” the person who saved Himiko stated firmly as Himiko gasped, clutching at her neck as she tried to force all the air she had lost back into her lungs.

Bakugo glared at Himiko’s savior, before glancing down at his hands and smirking.

“Oh, you have no idea what you just did.”

Sparks started flying from his hands, only to suddenly sputter out as, at the exact same time, Bakugo plummeted to the floor.

“No killing your classmates on the first day,” a flat, dry voice instructed.

Aizawa, Himiko recognized blearily, finally able to stand back up as she regained some semblance of a functioning windpipe.

She glanced towards her teacher, relief flooding through her veins, and she just so happened to graze her eyes over the girl next to her — over her savior.

Her lungs emptied again, but this time it wasn’t because of an angry blond shoving her into the wall.

She.

Was.

SO PRETTY .

Brilliant brunette locks, falling down her hair in a bob and framing her round cheeks — slightly stained with soft pink ovals — perfectly as her eyes, warm pools of darkened honey, sparkled at Himiko, worry darkening her otherwise immaculate face.

“Are you okay?” she asked softly, and Himiko could just barely manage a nod, certain her pupils were blown wide as warmth burned her cheeks.

“If you’re not, head to Recovery Girl and then join us on the PE Grounds,” Aizawa told her dismissively, before turning to the rest of the class. “My name is Shota Aizawa, and I’ll be your homeroom teacher for this year.”

“Tsk,” Bakugo pried himself off the floor, glaring at Eraserhead. “Yeah, right . What kind of teacher lets his student drop out of the air without so much as a warning ?”

“Consider that your punishment for attacking your classmate,” Aizawa told him, barely letting his eyes brush over Bakugo before continuing. “Now, come — you all need to change into these right now.”

“Wait, sir! You said we were heading out to the PE Grounds — shouldn’t we be moving to the auditorium instead, for our orientation?” a boy at the back of the class questioned, waving his arm erratically as he spoke.

“Tenya Iida,” Aizawa addressed him coolly. “Are you the teacher of this classroom?”

“I— well, no, but—” Iida tried to reply, but Aizawa but him off.

“Then shut up and listen to me: you all are going to put these uniforms on and follow me out to the PE Grounds,” he repeated, glaring at all of them. “Got it?”

“Y-yessir,” Himiko managed to get out, and Aizawa turned his head to stare at her.

“No one likes a suck-up.”

Himiko’s jaw dropped, and the very pretty girl that saved her quickly put her hand on Himiko’s back, trying to calm her down.

“Hey, it’s fine, I’m sure he didn’t mean it like that …” she reassured her, guiding her out of the classroom and after their teacher. “I’m Uraraka, by the way — Ochako Uraraka. What’s your name?”

“…Himiko Yaoyorozu,” she whispered, staring up at Ochako in awe. “But— uh, you should probably just call me Himiko, ‘cause my sister’s in this class, too.”

“Oh, well, in that case, you should call me Ochako, too!” she chirped, and Himiko nearly melted. Ochako looked up, scanning her surroundings, and locked her eyes onto Momo’s concerned expression as she trailed after them. “Are you her sister?”

“Y-yes, Momo Yaoyorozu,” she replied, moving the rest of the way up to Himiko and wrapping an arm over her back. “Are you okay? You’re not hurt, are you? —Your body temperature seems to be getting rather high. Should I guide you to the nurse’s office?”

“N-no, I’m fine, Momo,” Himiko tried to protest, eyes flicking to Ochako, but Momo was barely listening at this point.

“Oh, dear, if you already got hurt this badly on just the first day of class—!”

“If she can stand, she can stay,” Aizawa cut Momo off, glancing back at the three of them, though Himiko noticed his eyes caught on her — on her neck , to be specific.

She reached a hand up to feel it, only to hiss as she felt a sudden sharp pain spike through her as soon as she touched it.

“Oh, no, you’re bruising…” Ochako whispered softly, reaching out a hand almost as if to run her hand down Himiko’s bruises, only to think better of it and take her hand back. “Are you sure you don’t want to head down to Recovery Girl?”

“This is your last chance,” Aizawa added. “Though, I wouldn’t be surprised if it were already too late — she’s probably at orientation by now.”

Himiko grimaced.

“Yeah, no, I am not trudging through the halls of this school to find a lady who might not even be there.”

“Good choice,” Aizawa nodded approvingly, before halting in front of a pair of locker rooms. “Now, all of you, go change — boys in there, girls over here.”

Himiko shifted on her toes, feeling at the hem of her PE uniform.

What’s going on?

Should I be worried?

Why did Ochako leave?

That last one shouldn’t seem as important, but it weighed on Himiko’s mind nonetheless — Ochako had abandoned Himiko’s side almost as soon as they got to the PE Grounds, heading over to check on that green-haired kid — Deku.

Is that really his name? ‘Cause, if so, that’s kind of an awful thing to call your kid.

“Alright class, today we’re going to be having a Quirk assessment test—” Aizawa started, only for the entire class to cut him off with the repeated, “What? A Quirk assessment test ?!?!????”

“But orientation, we’re gonna miss it!” Ochako protested, arms held up in front of her chest, hands curled into fists as she tried to convince their teacher.

…Himiko tried not to stare.

“If you really wanna make it to the big leagues you can’t waste time on pointless ceremonies,” Aizawa replied, not even bothering to look back at them as his students gasped. “Here at UA, we’re not tethered to traditions. That means I get to run my class however I see fit,” he continued, and a few of the students let out a couple soft murmurs, shifting uncomfortably.

Aizawa turned around, facing them fully for the first time since they had made it out here. “You’ve been taking standardized tests most of your lives. But you never got to use your Quirks in physical exams before,” Aizawa pulled out his phone, showing an application that listed eight different tests. “The country’s still trying to pretend we’re all created equal by not letting those with the most power excel. It’s not rational. One day, the Ministry of Education with learn,” Aizawa then turned to Bakugo, and Himiko felt her stomach plummet. “Bakugo, you managed to get the most points on the entrance exam. What was your farthest distance throw with a softball when you were in junior high?”

“…Sixty-seven meters, I think,” he replied, narrowing his eyes at the teacher.

“Right. Try doing it with your Quirk,” Aizawa replied, and there were a few more mutters as Aizawa handed him a softball, allowing him to step into the pitcher’s field they had set up with several white lines drawn into the ground. “Anything goes, just stay in the circle.”

Bakugo stared at him, and Aizawa glared back. “Go on. You’re wasting our time.”

“All right man, you asked for it,” Bakugo replied, stretching out his arms and turning to the long, flat field in front of him.

He stepped forwards, threw the ball… and shouted “DIE!” as a large blast emanated from his hands, launching the ball several hundred meters into the stratosphere.

It didn’t even hit the ground before Aizawa finished talking.

“All of you need to know your maximum capabilities,” he said, waiting until the softball hit the ground before his phone gave a soft ding and he turned back around. “It’s the most rational way of figuring out your potential as a pro hero.”

Aizawa lifted his phone, and revealed Bakugo’s score: 705.2 meters.

Holy crap , Himiko stared at the phone, eyes wide.

“Whoa, seven-hundred and five meters, are you kidding me?” some kid with bright blond hair questioned, and Mina clapped her hands together.

“I wanna go! That looks like fun!”

“This is what I’m talkin’ about, usin’ our Quirks as much as we want!” another added, grinning a wide smile.

Eraserhead suddenly looked very ominous.

“So this looks fun, huh?” he questioned, and Himiko flinched backwards. “You have three years here to become a hero. You think it’s all gonna be games and play time? Idiots .”

A menacing smile spread across Eraserhead’s face, and Himiko instinctively tried to hide behind Momo.

“Today you’ll compete in eight physical tests to gauge your potential. Whoever comes in last has none , and will be expelled immediately.”

Silence settled over the class.

“Like I said, I get to decide how this class runs,” Aizawa said, his voice finally something deeper than just a tired old teacher. “ Understand ? If that’s a problem, you can head home right now.”

Himiko stared at Bakugo, a wave of dread settling over her like a blanket.

Oh, I am so getting expelled.

Beside her, Momo shifted, a frown tugging at her features as wheels spun behind her eyes.

“…Tryina figure something out?” Himiko questioned her softly.

“Mr. Aizawa…” she started slowly, drawing out her words as the pieces slowly started to click into place. “It doesn’t make much sense for him to expel all his students at the very beginning of the year, does it?”

Himiko blinked, glancing back over to their teacher. “I— no, I guess not…” she replied, only to shake her head. “But he said he was gonna expel one of us, not the whole group.”

“Yes, but if that pattern keeps up he’ll wind up with an empty classroom not even halfway through the year,” Momo told her, her voice becoming a little more sure of herself as she continued on. “He’s most likely only telling us this as some kind of logical deception — a ruse to get all his students to try their very hardest during the testing.”

“…He was the one to help me through the recommendations,” Himiko added softly, the puzzle starting to fall into place in her mind as well. “Even though he denied everything when I asked him about it. Yeah… yeah , that is one-hundred percent in character for him! Thanks, Momo — I was starting to freak out a bit.”

“Yes, you don’t exactly have any blood on you right now…” Momo nodded, and Himiko winced, though she nodded in agreement.

The last month or so between the exams and the beginning of their school year had been brutal — she had consumed so much blood in such a short time frame that her body had started to fight her when she went back to her normal schedule, Momo often finding her curled up in bed, clutching her stomach and shaking.

That was the one time when they really started to wonder if Himiko was built for hero work — if she reacted so violently after just two simple tests , how would she even be able to function after a full year of training, nevermind making an entire career out of her using her Quirk so frequently.

“You can’t send one of us home!” Ochako protested, obviously taking Aizawa’s threat very seriously (not that Himiko could blame her.) “I mean, we just got here! Even if it wasn’t the first day, that isn’t fair .”

“Oh, and you think natural disasters are ?” Aizawa replied, and that was when Himiko felt it — the real reason Aizawa was testing them like this. Not to “bring out their best” or give a little bit of “harmless pressure,” but to harden them.

To put them through the real world , even when the real world could be an absolutely awful place.

“Or power-hungry villains? Hm? Or catastrophic accidents that wipe out whole cities?” he pressed, and Himiko felt the weight of responsibility settle over her — because, if she were to become a hero, she’d be the one tasked to deal with those things. “No, the world is full of unfairness. It’s a hero’s job to try to combat that unfairness. If you wanna be a pro , you’re gonna have to push yourself to the brink . For the next three years , UA will throw one terrible hardship after another at you. So, go beyond . Plus Ultra -style,” he beckoned to them with a single finger. “Show me it’s no mistake that you’re here.”

He gave them a few moments to let that sink in, before finally stating, “Now then. We’re just wasting time by talking. Let the games begin.”

And so they did.

First up was the 50-meter dash, each of them racing two at a time, with the first two up being the glasses boy who had first tried questioned Aizawa — Tenya Iida, she remembered.

He was up against a girl with long green hair, tied in a knot at the end so it sort of resembled a bow, or… frog legs?

Definitely frog legs, Himiko decided as she watched the girl hop along the track, while Iida just rocketed to the end with the engines stored in his legs.

Next was Ochako, against a guy with a long, thick tail sprouting from his rear.

She watched Ochako tap her hands against her clothes and shoes, a pink glow emanating from her fingertips, before running as fast as she could against tail guy — losing, but still looking rather pleased with herself.

Man, wish I could look that pumped all the time, Himiko thought to herself.

Then it was her turn.

And she was against Momo.

Of course.

Momo gave her a polite smile, but there was something else behind her eyes — an apologetic sort of determination, the kind that said “Sorry, but I’m not going to go easy on you just because you’re my sister.”

Himiko could already see a faint glow coming from her arm where Momo was preparing the object that would let her win.

No blood, no plan, and a sister who is so much better than me at this in every way.

PLEASE don’t actually expel me, Aizawa, Himiko begged, and then a gunshot sounded and the race began.

A large steel beam shot of Momo’s arm, and she practically vaulted herself over the track, using the propulsion of her creation to launch herself to the finish while Himiko was still huffing and puffing behind her.

3.97 vs 7.13 seconds.

Himiko scowled at the floor, chest heaving, and felt the prickling stare of someone looking at her.

She turned around, and found it was the son of Endeavor — Mister Shoto Todoroki himself — staring at her, expression unreadable.

Himiko glared at him, sticking out her tongue and pulling at the underside of her eyelid.

Todoroki didn’t even blink .

Himiko stalked off, ignoring Momo’s congratulations as she marched right up to Aizawa.

“I’m not giving you any more blood,” he stated before she could even open her mouth.

Himiko blinked.

“Wh— no, I wasn’t—” she stammered, before taking a deep breath and demanding, “Where’s the other guy?” Aizawa simply raised an eyebrow at her. “The one who beat Todoroki — Yoarashi, the one with the wind Quirk. Is he simply in another class, or did something happen to him?”

“…Yoarashi withdrew his application,” Aizawa replied after a moment.

Himiko stared at him.

“…What?” she whispered softly.

“He withdrew,” Aizawa repeated. “We don’t know why — apparently he’s going to Shiketsu now.”

Himiko opened her mouth, closed it, then silently walked away.

Me. It’s because of me he didn’t want to get in, she thought darkly, sitting down next to a wall of the school. He thought the little weird girl with the blood Quirk was too disturbing, and didn’t want to risk it.

But he was so nice! she tried arguing with herself. He even offered you his blood to help with the test! Sure, I mean, you didn’t end up actually taking it, but…

But he can’t be that good at hiding his true feelings.

Right?

She was barely even aware of the other students finishing up their own races, not until she felt someone sit down next to her.

“Hey,” Himiko glanced up to find a girl with short, cropped bluish-purple hair, two long strings that kind of looked like headphone jacks dangling from each of her ears. “Man, this whole Quirk assessment thing is rough , huh?”

Himiko blinked at her, before silently nodding.

“I mean, seriously — not all of us have physical Quirks,” the girl continued, waving one hand through the air while her other clutched at a water bottle. “Sure, my earphone jacks were good for taking down robots , but how am I supposed to use them to make me run faster, hmm?”

A small, hesitant smile spread itself across Himiko’s face. “Mm, yeah, some Quirks are definitely better at this than others — did you see how fast that Iida guy ran?”

“And the pole girl, too,” earphone jack nodded. “Though, I’m not sure it exactly counts as running — same with Bakugo. Or — hah — should I say, happy-go-murder ?”

Himiko burst out laughing at that, and earphone jack grinned.

“How did you even come up with that, by the way? What inspired it?”

“Oh, it was during the practical — he stole one of my villain kills from me, kept rocketing around the place as if sitting still might kill him, and was just generally very explode-y — doubly so when he saw my Quirk. He called me slime-skin, and I needed a comeback. Didn’t realize it would tick him off so badly.”

Earphone jack tilted her head at Himiko.

“Slime-skin? Where did that even come from? You don’t look very slimy to me.”

“It’s… uhm, it’s part of my Quirk,” Himiko replied vaguely, but before earphone jack asked any more questions, she hurriedly added, “I’m Himiko, by the way! Himiko Yaoyorozu — but you should probably just call me Himiko. What’s your name?”

“Mm, yeah, that tall girl is your sister, right?” earphone jack nodded at Momo. “Makes sense you’d want to differentiate yourself from her. My name’s Kyoka Jiro — feel free to use whichever one of those you prefer, I don’t really mind.”

“ Kyoka …” Himiko echoed, trying it out. She beamed at Kyoka. “Nice to meet you!”

Kyoka grinned at her. “Yep, nice to meet you too, Himiko. Hey — by the way, how’s your neck doing? I’d offer you my water bottle to put against it, but it’s not exactly very cold right now, so…”

“I’m fine,” Himiko replied, brushing her fingers against the wound and suppressing a wince. “Don’t even notice it until I touch it.”

“Really?” Kyoka questioned her dubiously. “Because it looks, like, really painful — the whole thing’s basically entirely purple right now.”

Himiko froze.

“…Really?” she asked softly.

“Yeah — I’d take a picture to show you, but my phone’s back with my regular uniform,” Kyoka replied. “You just have a giant blotchy handprint across the front of your throat.”

Himiko traced the bruise, trying to picture what Kyoka was describing.

Because… as much as she tried to deny it, Kyoka’s description sounded very accurate to what Himiko was feeling.

“Himiko!” another person plopped onto the other side of Himiko, and Himiko glanced up just in time for Mina to sling an arm around her shoulders, careful not to touch her neck. “How’re you holding up? Your fight against Bakugo earlier was so intense !”

“Was it?” Himiko questioned curiously. “…Did I at least look cool?”

“ Cool ?” Kyoka tried to cover her snort. “Sorry girl, but it’s kiiiinda hard to look cool when you’re literally being pinned against a wall .”

“You were cool before that, though!” Mina added cheerfully. “Seeing you stand up to him like that was a great way to start my day!”

“… Ochako was really cool,” Himiko whispered, mostly just to herself, but the others caught it anyways because they were literally right beside her.

“Ochako? Which one is—”

“Hey, guys!” Ochako chirped, walking up to them. “Aizawa says we’re gonna go do some grip strength stuff now, so c’mon! Don’t wanna get left behind!”

Himiko stared up at Ochako like she had personally offered her the opportunity to get back at the Togas for every single wrongdoing they had ever caused her over the years as she extended a hand to help Himiko off the floor.

“Th-thanks,” she mumbled, and Ochako beamed at her.

“Of course! How’s your neck holding up, by the way? I wish I could’ve gotten there sooner — that Bakugo guy really…”

“Ah,” Mina realized with a snicker, gazing up at Ochako and Himiko. “ That’s Ochako.”

Chapter Text

Himiko glanced from the grip strength tester to Momo, who was simply staring at it, hand on her chin.

“You gonna… try it out now?” she questioned, gesturing to the device.

Himiko had already tried it out, and gotten a 35.4 kilograms — slightly on the stronger side for a girl her age, but nothing impressive.

“I’m thinking,” Momo replied, before suddenly her arm started glowing — and what looked to be a robotic claw came out of her arm.

“…Doesn’t that count as cheating?” Himiko questioned as Momo gripped the object.

“They said we could use our Quirks,” Momo shrugged. “So I’m using my Quirk.”

Momo put her hand around the robot claw’s handle, and leveraged the other end against the hand dynamometer, pressing down.

The numbers on the device skyrocketed, and Himiko’s eyes widened, eyebrows shooting up to her hairline.

“It’s a hydraulic gripper — I modified it so it would be able to take my own strength and multiply it, using the pressurized liquids inside this chamber,” Momo tapped the centerpiece of the gripper, and Himiko just had to trust Momo knew what she was talking about, because Himiko very much did not. “So it still technically counts as my own strength.”

556.4.

Himiko glanced over to a couple of the boys, who were raving about how one of them managed to get to 540.

…Are we sure this isn’t cheating? she wondered, but didn’t say anything.

The next test was the standing long jump.

Bakugo’s looked basically the same as what he did during the race.

A very sparkly blond shot a laser out of his stomach and easily cleared the sandbox.

Deku landed near the very beginning, falling on his butt in the process.

Himiko tried not to smile, but it was hard not to when he stood up covered in sand.

Then it was Momo’s turn, and… why were they even doing this when half the people there were just using what they had done during the footrace?

Himiko managed to get just a little bit farther than Deku had, though, unlike him, she managed to stay standing.

Then came the repeated sidesteps, and, after that…

Himiko gulped.

The softball throw.

As Bakugo had already completed his during the demonstration at the very beginning, he got to sit back while everyone else took their turn.

Himiko danced on her feet, shifting back and forth nervously as she watched Ochako take to the field.

Is anyone gonna be able to beat Bakugo? Himiko wondered, only to remember what Ochako had done to Bakugo during their fight. …Is OCHAKO about beat Bakugo?!?!?!?????

Ochako took a deep breath, before flinging the softball into the air.

It wasn’t moving particularly fast, but it still kept moving, even when, by all means, momentum should’ve given out ages ago and let the softball drop to the ground.

The class waited, and waited, and waited, the softball getting farther and farther, until Aizawa eventually flipped his phone around, showing off a bright pink infinity symbol.

OCHAKO’S AN INFINITY KID?!?!?!?!?!!!!!!!! Himiko gaped as the rest of her classmate’s let out astonished gasps, unable to stop herself from running up to Ochako and grappling her in a hug.

“Ohmygosh you’re literally insane that was the coolest thing ever—” Himiko forced out in a garbled rush, and Ochako laughed, reciprocating the hug before prying Himiko off of her.

“Oh, it’s not that impressive — just my Quirk! It’s called Zero Gravity — you, uh, can probably figure out the rest from there, haha,” Ochako smiled sheepishly, and Himiko couldn’t stop herself from vibrating, holding onto Ochako as long as Ochako was holding onto her.

Himiko bonked their foreheads together. “You’re so cool,” she told her, gazing deep into those warm brown eyes.

Ochako flushed.

“I— not really, but— well, if you say so!” she fumbled, managing to get last part of her sentence out in a squeak.

Oh my gosh she’s so adorable I’m literally going to DIE.

“Get off the field!!!” Aizawa called over to them irritably. “It’s Midoriya’s turn!”

“Right! Right right right, sorry!” Ochako called back, guiding Himiko off the field while Himiko just continued staring at her, hearts in her eyes.

“You’re so cool,” Himiko whispered again, resting her head on Ochako’s shoulder as she stared up at her.

“Y-yeah, you keep saying that,” Ochako tried to laugh it off, her cheeks coloring more and more red as Himiko continued complimenting her. “It’s— um, I got it! Haha, you can totally stop now!”

“You saved me and you talked to me and you offered me your hand and you reached infinity you’re so cool you deserve to hear it all the time,” Himiko informed her, and Ochako just buried her face in her hands.

“Mhm!” she squeaked.

Ochako was literally the cutest thing ever.

Behind them, someone cleared their throat.

Himiko ignored it, content to stay leaning on Ochako’s shoulder staring at her forever.

They cleared it again, a bit louder, and even tapped Himiko on the shoulder when she continued ignoring them.

Himiko turned her head irritably, wondering who on earth would dare interrupt this perfect moment — only to blink as she saw Momo, arms crossed and looking at Himiko with a singular raised eyebrow.

“Can we talk?” Momo questioned flatly.

Himiko whimpered. “But Ochako—”

“Can wait,” Momo interrupted firmly. “You’re making her combust, anyways — I’m sure she’d appreciate the break.”

Himiko glanced back over at Ochako, surprised, but Ochako didn’t say anything — just continued holding her hands over her face, ears turning red.

Momo forcibly disentangled Himiko from Ochako and marched her over to quiet spot, away from the other students.

“You have a crush on her, don’t you?” Momo questioned, almost accusatory.

“…Yeah? What of it?” Himiko asked, curling in on herself and forming a protective barrier across her chest as she mimicked the stance Momo was in and crossed her arms as well. “I had a crush on Tokage and you didn’t seem to mind.”

“Yes, but Tokage knew how to say no — that, and you don’t seem to be able to restrain yourself half as well with this one,” Momo pointed out flatly, and Himiko blinked up at her.

“…What?”

“You are literally drooling all over her while she just stands there and takes it,” Momo informed her, and Himiko stilled. “With Tokage, you had boundaries — sure, you bit her, but it was during a fight. If you bite… Ochako, or whatever you called her, you won’t have that excuse. I’m saving you from yourself.”

Himiko stared at Momo for a moment longer, before looking down at her feet. “But… but she’s really pretty, and she saved me, and… and she reached infinity. She’s an infinity kid, Momo.”

Momo just stared at her.

“…A what?”

“During the recommendations — only three kids managed to reach infinity,” Himiko explained, glancing up at Momo only briefly before focusing back on the ground. “Todoroki, Honenuki, and— …Yoarashi. And then Ochako did her softball throw, and now she’s an infinity kid, too.”

Don’t think about Yoarashi don’t think about Yoarashi don’t think about Yoarashi—

“…You admire her,” Momo breathed her realization, relaxing her posture slightly and staring up at the clouds. “…Crap, I don’t think you’ve ever had a crush you admired. This is…”

“SMAAAA-AAASH!”

The sound of a softball rocketing into space was heard behind Himiko, and a gust of wind buffeted the two sisters.

Himiko glanced backwards, and immediately locked onto the single broken finger Deku had dangling off the hand in front of him.

Another, needier whine escaped Himiko’s throat.

“He’s so pretty and broken and I need blood to pass this test and I want HIS blood but I can’t it’s so unfair—”

Momo grabbed Himiko’s shoulders, and forced her back to facing her.

“HIMIKO. Please. I do not need you breaking on me right now,” Momo stated, firm but desperate. “You— you said you needed blood. That… that actually makes sense. Could we ask Aizawa for some? Or do you think any of our classmates would be willing to part with a bit of theirs?”

“Aizawa said he wasn’t getting me any more blood,” Himiko informed her, meaning for the statement to be cool, factual — but instead it came out as another desperate, needy cry for attention. And blood.

Oh goodness gracious I can FEEL all the blood rushing to his broken finger please don’t force me to stay around this kid I need to get him as far away from me as—

“HEY!!!!!” Bakugo’s voice yelled out, along with the sound of several explosions and running feet. Himiko resolutely DID NOT turn around. I can’t look at him oh gosh if I look at him again he’s as good as dead— “DEKU YOU MORON TELL ME HOW YOU DID THAT OR YOU’RE DEAD!!!!!!!!!”

Himiko curled further into herself, placing her hands over her ears with a small whimper.

Do not hurt him any further I won’t survive if he gets bruises as bad as mine or burn scars or if he starts BLEEDING—

…Nothing.

Himiko waited a few more minutes, just to check that her blood senses were correct and there wasn’t any actual fighting going on, before finally uncurling from herself and chancing a peek over at Bakugo (but not Deku please not Deku—)

Bakugo was being held back by Aizawa’s scarf which could… move, apparently.

His hair was billowing up and around his head (didn’t he look like that when he first walked in on Ochako and Bakugo’s showdown?) but it fell a moment later, his scarf retracting as it settled back around his neck.

“You’re wasting my time now. Whoever’s next can step up,” he said, waving a hand dismissively.

Silence.

Deku slowly inched off the field, trying to avoid Bakugo, who was still standing there, mad about having been restrained, probably.

Deku’s getting closer oh no please don’t—

Himiko whipped her head back around, shielding her eyes and trembling.

She nearly jumped out of her own skin when she felt a hand lightly brush her shoulder.

“…Himiko?” Momo asked softly, taking her hand back. “Are you… do you need me to get something for you?”

“Blood,” Himiko blurted automatically, only to cover her mouth with both hands, still shaking. “No I can’t if I have any that’ll only make it WORSE—”

“But at least it’ll distract you,” Momo said determinedly, glancing around the area. “…Did you meet anyone else during your test, or do I need to grab Ochako?”

NOT OCHAKO.

“Mina,” Himiko replied instead, small. “Pink. Horns.”

“Got it.”

Momo disappeared.

Himiko folded even further into herself, her world nothing but closed eyes, hands gripping her arms, and the faint bobbing of a broken finger as his body attempted to heal it.

Two heartbeats approached her again, and Himiko heard voices.

“Keep an eye on her — and do not let Midoriya ANYWHERE NEAR HER,” Momo stated sternly, before disappearing again.

“…Why can’t I let him near her?” Mina questioned, but Momo was already gone.

“Heeeeyyyyy Himiko,” Mina greeted her after a moment, feet dancing against the ground as her heartbeat swirled around Himiko. “Is Momo grabbing the teacher for you? …Geez you look really pale. What’s the matter? Momo didn’t really say anything.”

Himiko clamped her jaw shut, not trusting herself to just attack Mina as her blood pounded delicately through her veins.

“Hmm… do you need anything? I mean, like, anything that’s right here?” Mina questioned. “Jiro had that water bottle on her — do you need a drink?”

“Blood,” the word forced itself out of Himiko’s throat, and, as Mina paused in surprise, Himiko forced her hand into her mouth and bit down.

Punishment you need punishment — …blood sweet blood.

Himiko relaxed as she tasted iron on her tongue, ignoring the vibrant pain radiating through her fist.

“WOAH! What are you even—?! Himiko, no,” Mina stated firmly, grabbing Himiko’s hand and forcing it out of her mouth. “NO biting yourself, don’t ever bite yourself!!!”

Himiko let out a whine, trying to get back towards the blood leaking from her palm, and Mina was basically having to wrestle with her to keep it away from herself.

“Hey! Himiko! Stop it — it’s not worth it to hurt yourself like that!” Mina barked, and Himiko felt a few more heartbeats start to come closer, drawn in by the fighting.

“What’s going on…?”

“Hey, you two, stop it!”

“Is she bleeding?!”

The broken finger started hovering closer, two separate heartbeats accompanying it.

Blood sweet blood all mine to taste gimme it—

The vibrant blood of her sacrifice was just a few feet away.

But another container of the heavenly liquid was right in front of her.

Himiko’s fangs sank into pink skin, and the strange force fighting against her stilled.

“What on…”

The blood tasted of strawberry lemonade, of sour cherry candy, of bright, cheerful days and a beaming smile, a girl who spoke brightly but didn’t know what was good for her when the time came.

Himiko wanted more.

Her fangs sank deeper into the flesh, ripping the skin, tearing the muscle, and pouring that sweet, sweet liquid into her mouth in a glorious wave of heat and desire.

Himiko almost never had blood warm.

In fact, the first time she had ever had it warm was with Tokage, in the combat portion of the recommendations exam.

Himiko never wanted to go back to cold blood ever again.

Suddenly, the force from before started struggling again, shoving at Himiko, pressing against her horns(?) and trying to stop her from digging deeper into the blood that was hers all hers no one will EVER take this away from me.

Another force, another heartbeat, another sacrifice barreled into Himiko, knocking her over and pressing her into the floor, one arm to her stinging throat.

Why does it hurt so bad? Himiko wondered vaguely, but that didn’t matter — they were so close.

Her hands flew against her attacker, pointed nails digging into fair skin, and a new voice cried out with a question: “Mina, why don’t you ever clip your nails?!!!!”

They were familiar.

And delicious.

Himiko surged forwards, planting her teeth against cloth — but just beyond that was flesh, and her fangs could tear the cloth so easily—

Himiko bit down on the cloth again, confused.

Why wasn’t it tearing?

Her teeth had grown blunt, flat, and Himiko let out a pathetic whine, attempting to bite down on the fabric a couple more times, but it wasn’t working and her heart wasn’t really in it anymore.

She collapsed against the ground, breathing heavily, and the person on top of her slowly, cautiously, relaxed.

Himiko blinked her eyes open, and was met with warm brown ones, staring cautiously down at her.

“Chak…o,” Himiko breathed, just barely, but the voice that came out of her mouth wasn’t hers.

“Hey… Himiko?” Ochako replied cautiously, almost as if she were guessing, glancing between Himiko and someone behind her — Mina, still dripping blood from a large gash on her forearm.

Himiko licked at her lips as she stared at the blood dripping down Mina’s pink skin, and found that there was some coating the skin around her own mouth, too.

“…Strawberry,” Himiko whispered, but her voice still wasn’t her own.

“S…strawberry?????” Ochako echoed in confusion.

“Tastes… strawberry lemonade,” Himiko explained, still a little bit delirious. “Mmm… cherry. Can-dy…”

“Is… is that the blood?????” Ochako questioned her, sounding bewildered. Why she was, Himiko had no idea — she was explaining this very clearly. “The blood tastes like strawberries???”

“Strawberry… lllllemonade,” Himiko agreed, continuing to lick whatever leftovers she could reach from around her mouth.

Silence.

“…You’d probably taste like marshmallows,” Himiko told her, just to fill that silence. “Marshmallows and clouds and cotton candy, ‘cause you’re sweet. Oh — but also scary. Hmm… jack-o-lanterns? …What does a jack-o-lantern taste like?”

“Himiko, you’re… you’re not making sense,” Ochako admitted to her.

Himiko pouted.

“I make lots of cents,” she protested. “Cents and dollars and allllls of the money. Yen. Sen… sense. Oh. I don’t make much of that.”

“Yeah. Yeah, you… really don’t,” Ochako agreed ruefully.

“Mmm… not many people trade in sense these days. Hard to get a hold of,” Himiko informed her conversationally.

People were moving behind Ochako.

Something about a bite?

Oh, yeah. Himiko did that.

“Mmm… my fangs went away,” Himiko told Ochako. “Made me not bite you. Very sad.”

“That’s… uh, that’s because you’re Mina right now,” Ochako informed her.

“I am?!” Himiko questioned delightedly, lifting one arm into the air and admiring the strange pink color. “Ohhhhh, I am. So pretty! But you’re prettier. Can I be you next time?”

“Uhhh, depends,” Ochako replied, shifting on top of Himiko. Oh, right, she was pinning her. Why was she pinning her? “Would you go crazy and nearly tear my arm off first?”

“I did not,” Himiko protested, flopping her arm back onto the ground. “I just tasted a little bit. She’s fiiiiiine… probably. Can I have your blood?”

“…Um. No.”

“Why noooooot?” Himiko whined, bumping her head against the ground and scraping her new horns against the dirt. “You’d taste really good. Like marshmallows…”

“Yeah, you… kinda mentioned that already,” Ochako grimaced.

“I did? When?” Himiko questioned, tilting her head to the side. Fluffy pink hair partially obscured her vision.

“When you started talking about strawberry lemonade and jack-o-lanterns.”

“Oh, you would taste like jack-o-lanterns,” Himiko stated fervently, nodding her head.

Ochako let out a long, long sigh. “…This conversation is just going to continue going in circles, isn’t it?”

“You’re circles,” Himiko retorted. “Your face is so round and circle-y and… and pink. You’ve got pretty pink cheeks and I want. To bite them.”

Ochako fell silent, staring at Himiko with wide eyes.

Himiko lifted her hands to Ochako’s face, leaning up to the pink ovals permanently stamped into her skin.

“Aaaaand that’s enough of that,” a gray scarf suddenly wrapped itself around Himiko’s arms, making her pout as she stared up at Eraserhead.

“Whyyyyyy…?” she complained, giving him her best pair of puppy-dog eyes. “She’s cute and I’m hungry…”

“Are you, really?” he questioned flatly, jerking his head towards Ochako and prompting her to get off Himiko, eliciting another pathetic whine. “Because, from what I’ve seen, you’ve had plenty to eat with Ashido.”

“Ashido… Ashido Ashido Ashido,” Himiko tapped her chin with a beautiful pink finger. “Oh yeah! Mina said her surname was Ashido when we met. Mmm… strawberry lemonade.”

“Ashido’s already been sent to Recovery Girl’s office,” Aizawa informed her. “Along with Midoriya. Class is suspended until those two get back and you stop losing your mind.”

“I have not lost anything,” Himiko grumped. “Except Ochako. Why’d she leave?”

“I’m… I’m still right here,” Ochako pointed out.

“Ochako! Ochako Chako Chako. Mmm… infinity girl.”

“…Infinity girl?”

“Infinity,” Himiko giggled, falling further into Aizawa’s binding scarf.

“…Oh,” Ochako’s eyes flashed with realization. “The softball throw.”

“Infinity girl,” Himiko whispered, reverent.

“I’m going to take her to a waiting room so she can cool off,” Aizawa informed the rest of the class, who Himiko realized were all staring at her. The heartbeats. “The rest of you: stay. Here. Do not make me regret teaching a class this year.”

“Tch, yeah right,” Bakugo grumbled. “As if we’re staying here while you drop off slime-skin. I’m—”

Himiko bared her fangs at Bakugo, a fearsome growl ripping out of her throat, and he paused, staring at her.

“Explosion murder hatred missile dust-for-brains HISSSSSSSSSS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!” Himiko glared at him as Aizawa dragged her away, using his scarf to drag her prone body against the ground. “Ochako-fighter. Momo-insulter. Horrid BEAST.”

“YOU’RE the beast, you absolute psycho!!!!!” Bakugo snapped back at her.

Himiko didn’t stop hissing and growling until he was out of sight.

Aizawa threw her into a chair, and sighed.

“I guess I deserve this, for forcing the district into letting you into my class,” he sighed, rubbing the bridge of his nose. “Though, I must say — I didn’t think you’d freak out this badly on just the first day. Your test scores were so impressive…”

“Test test test…” Himiko hummed, slumping over the chair and onto the floor now that she didn’t have Aizawa’s scarf to hold her upright. “Tesssssst. Tssst. Brrr-rrk, this is officer Himiko speaking.”

Himiko burst out into a cacophony of giggles, Aizawa glaring down at her.

“Himiko. You said during our interview that, to stop yourself from biting people, you thought about what those consequences would be. Well? What do you think those consequences will be now?”

“Hi-mi-ko…” Himiko let her head loll to the side. “That’s-a me. No, wait, I’m Mina now — rrrgh, so very Mina. What does Mina talk like? ‘Hey, girl, I got lost in this giant building! Can you help me, person who is currently breaking down in the middle of the hallway?’”

Himiko suddenly fell silent.

Aizawa stared at her.

“…Was that from real life?”

Himiko bit her bottom lip — a strange act, without the pinprick feeling of her fangs resting alongside her teeth.

“…Oh, heavens, I actually bit her, didn’t I?” she questioned, voice suddenly much sharper than the delirious mess it had been in for the past several minutes.

“Ah, you’re lucid again,” Aizawa stated approvingly. “Good. You can go apologize to your classmate now.”

“Wh— I can’t—” Himiko sat up, realized she was still in Mina’s form, and immediately let it drop. “…I can’t just… talk to her,” she protested. “I bit her — the entire reason I’ve been so hard on myself over the years. And it didn’t… it didn’t even work.”

“Why?” Aizawa prompted. “Why didn’t it work? What set you off?”

“…Deku broke his finger,” she whispered. “Bakugo nearly made it worse. I was… I was trying to stop myself. Mina… didn’t make it easy.”

Himiko rubbed the small bite mark on her hand, the wound still fairly fresh.

“…You bit yourself,” he noticed, eyes following Himiko’s movement. “I thought you said you only did that when you were a kid.”

“Yeah, well, sometimes it’s the only thing that works,” Himiko replied bitterly. “And then Mina tried to get me to stop it.”

“A natural reaction, given she didn’t entirely understand what was going on,” he pointed out.

“Yeah, but it’s not like it helped.”

“Maybe not in the long run, but not needing to bite yourself every time you get cravings would be a step in the right direction.”

Himiko huffed.

“…You mentioned punishment,” she said softly. “What… what’s it going to be?”

“For now? Apologizing to Ashido,” he replied flatly, and Himiko jerked her head up at him, surprised. “Her reaction to this will influence my decision further. Afterwards… if you ever bite someone again, we’ll revisit this method. And maybe some other things, too, to see if we can help negate your cravings further.”

Himiko opened her mouth, closed it, and allowed Eraserhead to lead her out of the room silently.

They made it to the nurse’s office, and Recovery Girl immediately tsked.

“The first day of school, and three of your students are already begging me for treatment? Not the most impressive feat, Aizawa.” The old lady immediately reached for Himiko’s bitten hand, and she jumped back.

“Oh— no, it’s okay! I’m totally fine!” Himiko protested. “I mean, I kinda deserve it, since—”

“I don’t care whether you ‘deserve’ it,” Recovery Girl told her sharply. “I’m healing your hand, and that neck of yours looks like it could do with some care, too.”

Recovery Girl placed a kiss on Himiko’s hand, and she watched as the teethmarks etched into her skin closed on themselves, a faint tingling coming from her neck as her bruises faded.

“…Thanks,” she whispered, lifting a hand to feel her freshly-healed neck, and Mina smiled at her from her seat near the door.

“Heeeeyyyyy Himiko!” Mina chirped, and Himiko was immediately struck with a flash of déjà vu. “You’re not wearing my face anymore! Awww, what, was I not pretty enough for you?”

Himiko immediately flushed. “I— no, that wasn’t—” she stammered, before taking a deep breath, trying to calm her racing heart. “I just… I didn’t deserve it.”

“Aww, boo,” Mina pouted, sticking out her tongue. “C’mon, do I have to let you bite me or something to let you transform into me again?”

“I— wh— uh, no,” Himiko clarified, letting Mina’s form ripple across her once again. When she spoke, her voice was a perfect mirror of Mina’s. “I still have enough of your blood in my system to transform back.”

“Ooooh, that is so cool!” Mina jumped upright, and Recovery Girl tutted at her.

“Don’t move so suddenly! Your body just finished replacing all those lost blood cells and skin tissue!”

Himiko flushed. “S-sorry about biting you, by the way…”

“Oh, nah, it’s totally fine!” she chirped. “I mean, sure, it definitely was pretty painful — you were digging your teeth, like, really deep into my skin…”

“Severed several muscles and blood vessels,” Recovery Girl piped up.

“…But, I mean, it was so cool to see you turn into me like that! Still is!” Mina continued, ignoring the medical diagnoses as if it hadn’t even happened. “Do you think you could do that again sometime — and do you always have to bite people? Or is there some other way for you to transform?”

“Yes! I’d like to know every detail of your Quirk!” Deku spoke up, and Himiko startled — she had barely even noticed he was in the room. “Can you only turn into girls, can you use other people’s Quirks, how deep does the transformation go — is it only surface-level, or—”

“Geez Midoriya, you’re gonna scare her off if you continue talking like that!” Mina laughed, and Deku — Midoriya, Deku was probably just an insulting nickname — flushed in embarrassment.

“…Sorry. I just… really like learning about other people’s Quirks,” he mumbled.

Himiko let out a breath.

“Nah, it’s okay — I’m… well, I’m pretty used to it by now.”

Himiko explained to them both how her Quirk worked — how much she craved blood, and how that was the thing that really set her off, Midoriya’s eyes widening as he realized breaking his finger was the trigger — and several smaller questions Midoriya brought up whenever she mentioned something he wanted to know more about.

“Does your biology change into the exact same as the person you transform into?” he questioned. “Because, if it does, that could make you, like, the ultimate blood donor.”

Himiko laughed.

“Alright, alright, you’ve thought about my Quirk more in these past few minutes than I’ve thought about it in my entire life. No, I do not know if my biology changes into the same as the person I’ve shifted into.”

“I meeeaaaaan…” Mina sung, drawing the word out as long as she could while she watched Himiko move in her stolen form. “You are in my body right now — we could totally test it.”

“…What?!” Himiko gaped at her, almost transforming back into her own body on reflex. “Why would— huh??????”

“If we did that, I’d have to draw another sample from Miss Ashido to compare it to,” Recovery Girl pointed out. “And I don’t think her body’s in the best condition for something like that to happen to her.”

“Aw, booooo,” Mina grumped, sticking out her tongue at the old lady. “You’re no fun.”

“And you’re in no shape to be arguing!” Recovery Girl replied, waving her hands at the trio of teenagers. “Now, shoo! I already had to be pulled away from my duties for long enough! I need to get going!”

“Right, right,” Mina sighed, hands behind her head as she strutted out of the infirmary. “Man, old people are seriously lame.”

“What did you say, young missy?!”

Mina laughed, dropping her hands and running down the hallway, back towards Class 1-A.

“…So, how’d it go?” Eraserhead asked Himiko after she followed Mina, Midoriya by her side. “I didn’t manage to catch all of it — and I’d really rather have Ashido’s account of the situation, to see if she has any preferences for punishment. But I suppose you two’ll do for now.”

“Oh. Um — I think Ashido forgave Yaoyorozu before she even walked in the door,” Midoriya replied, rubbing at the back of his fluffy green hair. “She was already talking about how cool it all was before you even arrived.”

“Which I have no idea how she manages to stay so cheerful,” Himiko added. “She’s worse than Ochako in that regard.”

Midoriya laughed. “Yeah… yeah, Uraraka’s pretty optimistic.”

“And so pretty,” Himiko added longingly. “Like, probably the prettiest girl I’ve ever seen.”

Midoriya gave her an odd look at that, but agreed.

“Alright alright, you two,” Aizawa grumbled, beginning to walk down the hallway and beckoning his two leftover students after him. “You can stop fantasizing about Uraraka and start giving me actual answers.”

“Like answers about how pretty and wonderful and amazing Ochako is?” Himiko questioned innocently, and Aizawa heaved out a deep, long-suffering sigh, causing Himiko to cackle.

Midoriya gave her that same odd look as before, but Himiko just hummed, content with continuing to ignore his awkwardness.

Chapter Text

When Ochako rushed up to her as soon as she emerged from the school, Himiko had to fight to keep the delighted, love-sick grin off her face.

“Himiko! Are you okay? What was all that?!”

“I— uh, sorry,” Himiko stammered out, ducking her head in embarrassment. “It’s just my Quirk… it can make me pretty… um. Pretty violent sometimes.”

“…Do you have a blood Quirk?” Ochako asked softly, and Himiko flinched back, nodding at the same time.

“Y-yeah. I… um, I drink other people’s blood to transform,” she whispered.

Ochako stared at her, before just tilting her head to the side. “Did you mean all that stuff you said about it tasting like… strawberry lemonade or whatever?”

Himiko flushed, eyes widening as she let out a cough.

“I— um, yes? A little bit? I don’t remember everything I said, but… strawberry lemonade sounds correct.”

“You said that Mina tasted like strawberry lemonade, and that I’d taste like… marshmallows???? Cotton candy? And, like… jack-o-lanterns.”

Himiko fell silent.

“…What does a jack-o-lantern even taste like?” she wondered.

Ochako laughed. “Yeah, yeah, you said that, too,” she hummed, gorgeous brown eyes twinkling up at Himiko.

Gosh, she’s really pretty.

“Well… um, the Mina thing is right,” Himiko replied, trying to tear her mind away from the thoughts of pretty girls and gorgeous eyes she wanted to get lost in. “Her blood tastes like strawberry lemonade and sour cherry candies. …Everyone’s blood tastes different, at least to me. Momo’s has always been my favorite, but I’ve never really… tasted anyone else’s blood. Just my parents, sister, and the servants — and Mina now, I guess,” And Tokage, but she doesn’t need to know that. “But, uh— Momo’s pretty sure the different tastes all correlate to my relationship with that person, so… makes sense Momo’s my favorite.”

“…Do you think my blood would taste like marshmallows and cotton candy and… what’d you say… clouds? You said I’d taste of clouds and jack-o-lanterns.”

Himiko stared at her.

She slowly extricated her hands from Ochako’s.

“…I can’t really predict how someone’s blood’ll taste until I try it,” she said slowly. “And… well. Uh. I don’t think people’ll really want to give me their blood.”

“You could have mine!” Ochako chirped, and Himiko nearly melted. “I mean, you said you have Momo’s, so… there’s gotta be some safer way for you to drink their blood. Right?”

“Uh— yeah,” Himiko replied, trying not to show how much that offer effected her. “I’ve really only ever bitten two people before — both very recently, so… yeah. I’ve mostly just drank Momo’s blood through the vials of it my family would pull. It’s— it’s to help my cravings. I get a little every Tuesday and Thursday, rotating through the family so they don’t get too drained.”

“…Who else did you bite?” Ochako questioned earnestly.

Himiko cursed herself.

Why did I have to say that why did I have to say that why did I have to say that—

“Oh, it was just during the entrance exams — I ended up taking a bite out of this girl while we were fighting.”

“…You bit someone during the practical?” Ochako questioned, and Himiko jumped.

“Oh— wait, no, that makes that sound way worse—” she realized, hurriedly correcting herself. “It was during the recommendations. Their tests are a little different, so at one point they were having the students battle against each other, one-on-one. I did not bite someone when I should’ve been exploding robots.”

Ochako blinked at her.

“…Wait, I thought you got in during the standard.”

Himiko just let her head fall forwards.

“It is all very complicated and I’m just going to stand here answering questions all day if we continue like this,” Himiko told her. “I just — I took both, okay? Don’t ask why, I’ll just… I’ll tell you later. We still technically have school to do.”

“Oh yeah!” Ochako jumped, before tugging Himiko back over to the rest of their class. “You still need to do the softball throw, right? Do… uh, do you need any blood for that?”

“My Quirk only copies the physical, so if I did copy someone I’d need it to be someone who’s strong even without their Quirk,” she replied. “Unless it’s heteromorphic.”

Ochako hummed.

“Well, then we can ask Sato and Ojiro! Do you think Shoji’s would work?”

“Please don’t ask anyone for their blood,” Himiko whimpered, but it was already too late.

“Hey, Sato!” Ochako chirped, dragging Himiko over by the hand while she tried not to just perish on the spot. “So, I was wondering; Himiko’s Quirk—”

Himiko waved her hands erratically as Ochako explained Himiko’s predicament, mouthing “No,” and trying to make an X motion without Ochako noticing.

Sato just glanced between the two of them, silent.

“…Uhh, sorry, Uraraka…” Sato began, glancing away uncomfortably and putting one of his big, meaty hands behind his head. “But… I mean, didn’t you see what she did to Ashido? I’m not… I just don’t think it’s safe.”

Ochako’s eyebrows knitted together, and she opened her mouth to protest, probably about to say something to defend Himiko’s behavior — but Himiko beat her to the punch.

“Absolutely no worries! I wouldn’t expect you to, anyways!” Himiko told him quickly, voice a little too high as she forced out a laugh. “It’s a really weird thing to ask, and—”

“You need someone’s blood to be able to pass the Quirk Apprehension Test?” another voice suddenly piped up, and Himiko nearly keeled over out of sheer horror and a tad bit of embarrassment.

“Yes! Her Quirk requires blood to work. And she can’t copy emitter-type Quirks like mine, or I would’ve already given her some,” Ochako explained enthusiastically to the blond boy that had approached them. “But she can copy mutant-types— right, Himiko? I’m pretty sure that’s what you said.”

“I… yeah, I copy anything physical,” Himiko whispered quietly, looking down at the ground.

“So if I gave her some of my blood, she’d be able to pass the test?” Ojiro questioned, and Ochako nodded.

“Yes! You— …would you be okay with that?” a little bit of nervousness started to creep into Ochako’s voice, and Himiko glanced up to see her worried expression.

“I mean, it depends— does she have to bite me, or could we do it some other way?” Ojiro pressed. “Because… yeah, we all saw what happened with Mina. I’m not quite ready to part with an arm quite yet.”

Himiko made a strangled sound in the back of her throat, and Ojiro winced.

“Oh, sorry, was that insensitive?” he lifted a hand to run through the hair on the back of his head. “I was just trying to make a joke — but if it’s too early for that, I totally understand.”

“It’s fine,” Himiko whispered. “Mina’s the one that got hurt, not me.”

Ochako tapped a finger to her chin.

“I’m not sure how else we’d be able to extract the blood… Oh! Wait, Momo’s your sister, right, Himiko? The girl with the creation Quirk?”

Himiko opened her mouth, then closed it.

“…Where are you going with this?”

“Couldn’t we ask her to create a syringe for us? Or— well, you, I guess. You and Ojiro,” Ochako quickly clarified, glancing between Himiko and Ojiro.

“Yeah, that should work!” Ojiro replied with a bright smile. “What do you think, uhhh… Yaoyorozu? Himiko? There’s two of you, so… I’m not entirely sure what I should call you.”

“Himiko’s fine,” she whispered. “…And, yes, a syringe would work.”

“Great! Let’s go ask her!” Ochako chirped, grabbing Himiko with one hand and Ojiro in the other as she pulled them both over towards Momo.

Ojiro blinked down at the hand holding his own, then over at Himiko’s, and gave her a small smile. Himiko tried to return it, but she had a feeling it didn’t quite reach her eyes.

Momo was currently standing in front of Mina, begging her for forgiveness.

“I am so sorry I didn’t think she’d attack you like that,” Momo told Mina, hands clasped in front of her chest as she stared at the pink girl with large, pleading eyes. “If I had known, I would’ve probably grabbed Bakugo or someone else — someone who she doesn’t like, so she wouldn’t have been tempted.”

“It’s fiiiiine!” Mina chirped, waving her off. “Seriously, I’m totally good! Recovery Girl patched me up — though I kinda wish she hadn’t done as good a job as she did, ‘cause that would’ve made a killer scar — and everything’s totally back to normal now! Himiko already came and apologized to me, Midoriya and I got to tease her a bit over her Quirk, and now we’re even!”

“That was teasing?” Himiko questioned in surprise. “I thought you were just genuinely interested — Midoriya definitely was.”

“He was?” Mina blinked in surprise. “Huh. Well, whatever — I was definitely teasing. It was suuuuuper funny to watch you squirm when I asked you to bite me again.”

“…So you don’t actually care about me being able to transform into you.”

“No, it’s still totally rad! I just also think your little bout of bloodlust was… kinda adorable, honestly.”

“…Me BITING YOU was… adorable???” Himiko echoed in pure, genuine bewilderment.

“Okay maybe not while it was happening but afterwards it definitely was!” Mina chirped.

Himiko just stared at her.

“Okay!” Ochako clapped her hands, obviously just as confused at this conversation as Himiko was but trying her best to move past it. “I have a request! Or— Himiko does! …Ojiro does? Doesn’t matter! What I’m trying to say, is— Momo! Can you make Himiko a syringe so she can use Ojiro’s blood for the test?”

Momo stared at her.

“…Ojiro is offering Himiko his blood?” she echoed faintly, turning her wide, confused eyes over to Ojiro, who just shrugged.

“Hey, I’m just tryina be helpful,” he replied. “And besides, if there’s a chance I can stop someone in our class from getting expelled… shouldn’t I?”

“Momo thinks Aizawa was lying about that,” Himiko told him, pointing at her sister.

“Really?” three separate voices asked at once, ranging from excited, to relieved, to confused.

“I mean, it makes sense, if you think about it— he wants all of us to try our hardest,” Momo explained, shifting her weight. “What better way to do that than threaten to expel one of us?”

“…So, do you still feel the need to give me your blood if I’m not gonna get expelled without it?” Himiko questioned, trying to sound wry while her heart thundered in her chest.

“I mean,” Ojiro tilted his head, thinking. “Even without this, you’re probably still gonna want to use our blood eventually, right? If… uh, that was any indication…” he gestured to Mina awkwardly, and she flashed a quick peace sign and grin. “…So, I mean, why not just get used to it now? We’re a class — we should protect each other.”

Momo let out a sigh, drawing a syringe out of her glowing arm. “Fine, if that’s what you really think — you should be grateful this is so small, and that the rest of the tests shouldn’t require I make any more objects, since I’m done with this one.”

Himiko nodded emphatically, eyes locking onto the familiar object as her body instinctively reacted to what the syringe represented.

Food.

Momo gestured Ojiro towards her, pulling back his sleeve and sticking the syringe into one of his veins.

Himiko couldn’t tear her eyes away from the sight as the clear plastic filled with that glorious red liquid once again, her mouth drooling.

“…I’m totally gonna overdose again,” Himiko whispered, causing Ochako, Mina, and Ojiro to all whip their heads around to face her in alarm, while Momo just sighed.

“I… I don’t think it counts as overdosing, but… yes, your body will probably hate you for such wild fluctuations in your daily blood intake.”

“You can overdose on blood?!?!?!?!” Mina cried incredulously. “What does— huh??????”

“Her dosages are usually very regulated,” Momo explained as she handed the syringe over to Himiko, the older of the two immediately sticking the pointy end into her mouth and pressing on the plunger.

Ojiro’s blood was close to the staff’s, but not quite — mostly just salt and iron, but instead of the tinge of labor, it shone with something a bit warmer — the blood of a man who had freely given it to her, out of nothing but the goodness of his heart.

“We give some to her every Tuesday and Thursday, so she doesn’t end up hurting herself — it’s basically a biological need for Himiko to drink at least a little bit each week, so we give her some of ours,” Momo continued, eyes only briefly flickering over Himiko as she gorged herself on the heavenly liquid. “But, as she’s not used to having any more than that, her body reacted quite violently after the entrance exams — she was bed-ridden for weeks after the recommendations.”

“Wait, I’m confused on that!” Ochako piped up, raising her hand as if she were in class. “Why did Himiko need to take both exams, when—”

“Yaoyorozu,” Aizawa grabbed Himiko by the shoulder, causing her to look back up at him with half a syringe sticking out of her mouth. “It’s your turn to do the softball throw.”

Himiko nodded, pressing down the stopper the rest of the way so Ojiro’s blood squirted into her mouth, and quickly pocketed it, abandoning Momo, Ochako, and the others as her crush continued babbling questions at her sister.

Himiko approached the circle where she would be pitching, and was handed a softball.

“HEY, SLIME-SKIN!!!” Bakugo barked from the sidelines. “YOU GONNA FREAK EVERYBODY OUT WITH YOUR WEIRD QUIRK AGAIN?!!!!!”

Himiko took a deep breath, trying to ignore him as Ojiro’s form fell over top of her own.

A long, thick tail spilled out the back of her shirt, tugging at her pants and falling down onto the ground to curl around her feet.

Himiko stared at her new appendage, getting used to the feel of waving it through the air, flicking its tip and trying not to tip over.

It’s heavy, Himiko frowned, trying to plant her feet more firmly into the dirt.

“What, you attack tail, too, to get that fancy new form?” Bakugo taunted her.

Himiko tried growling, only to find it didn’t work half as well as it usually did when she was in her own body.

“Sometime this year, Yaoyorozu!” Aizawa added, and Himiko sighed.

Time to get this over with.

Ojiro was muscular — he obviously worked out quite a bit — but the part of him with the most muscle was his tail. His Quirk. So, if Himiko was going to borrow his form… she should probably use it, right?

Himiko tossed the ball into the air, whirled around to smack it with her tail — and missed entirely, allowing it to drop onto the floor.

“Try again!” Aizawa commanded, sounding bored.

Himiko’s cheeks burned as she knelt down to pick up the ball.

Okay, so, maybe she wasn’t the best with Ojiro’s Quirk yet — but he still had plenty of other muscles, so she would just use those instead.

Himiko threw the ball with just her arm this time, and watched with a pleasant feeling settling in her chest as it soared just a bit further than it normally would if she were using her own body.

“Sixty-seven point eight,” Aizawa reported, and Himiko stepped off the mound, returning to her usual form (quickly checking to make sure her pants hadn’t fallen down while using Ojiro’s body.) “Alright, now it’s the distance run.”

“Good attempt!” Ojiro greeted her as she returned to the others, and Himiko high-fived him with a bright grin as he extended his hand to her. “It’s definitely pretty hard aiming with my tail when I’m trying to hit something I can’t see, so it was really impressive you were so close to hitting it!”

“Really?” Himiko questioned him with a nervous smile.

“Yeah, totally!” he smiled.

“You were totally awesome, Himiko!” Mina added, practically jumping Himiko as she wrapped an arm around her neck, pressing her knuckles into Himiko’s hair.

“So great!” Ochako agreed, clasping her hands together in front of her chest, and the rest of the world disappeared for but a moment as Himiko stared at her, a blush slowly climbing onto her cheeks.

“You performed admirably,” Momo agreed, wrapping Himiko up in a hug. “But now, we really need to prepare for the distance running Mr. Aizawa’s making us do.”

Himiko sighed, stretching her arms out above her head as she walked with Momo towards their waiting driver.

It turned out Momo was right — Aizawa had been lying about expelling the person with the lowest score.

…But it still didn’t make it any easier when Himiko saw that her name was only a single rank above last place.

Number nineteen out of twenty. I’m grateful for Midoriya, obviously — it would totally suck if he had to go home already. But…

Geez, does it hurt to see my name so low in the rankings.

She hadn’t had any blood until Ojiro had given her some of his.

And it wasn’t even that much — she couldn’t use it during the distance running, and it only made a small modicum of difference in the seated toe-touch and sit-up portions (though she had quickly grown uncomfortable with the tail in the middle of her sit-ups and switched back to her usual look, Momo just watching her, exhausted.)

“Hey, Himiko! Momo!” Ochako called out, running after them. “Wait up!”

“Oh! Uraraka! Greetings,” Momo replied, smiling at Ochako while Himiko’s entire brain just decided to lag out. “Is there something you need?”

“Oh — uh, not really, no,” Ochako chuckled nervously, slowing down a bit so she could match Himiko and Momo’s pace. “I just wanted to check up on you guys! That test was crazy, right?”

“…I suppose so,” Momo replied cautiously, glancing over at Himiko — only to let out a long, disappointed sigh when she saw how red Himiko’s face had turned.

“Are you guys headed to the station?” Ochako asked them, not noticing Momo’s reaction — or just not reacting to it.

“Oh, no — our driver is just over there,” Momo pointed towards a large, sleek black limousine.

Ochako froze.

“Wh— I— what? Are you guys serious?!” Ochako blubbered, staring at the vehicle with wide eyes.

“Yes. Do you… have you not heard the Yaoyorozu name before?” Momo asked cautiously.

“Yaoyo— OH. Oh, my goodness, I can’t believe— that’s you guys?” Ochako cut herself off with a hiss, something… strange happening behind her expression.

Something that Himiko wasn’t entirely sure she wanted directed at her.

“Yes, I am Momo Yaoyorozu, daughter of Yuka and Sakaeru Yaoyorozu and heir to the Yaoyorozu fortune,” Momo announced, puffing her chest out with a practiced ease. “And this is Himiko Yaoyorozu — I do not think her name comes up quite as often as mine, but she was adopted by our parents at age nine and has been a welcome part of the family ever since.”

Ochako gaped at them.

“…Oh. So you guys are like… rich-rich, huh?” Ochako questioned cautiously, that same unnerving emotion as before spilling into her voice.

“Yes. Is there… do you have an issue with it?” Momo asked, a bit of nervous worry entering her voice.

“No— uh, no, not at all!” Ochako forced a bright smile back onto her face, but she still ended up taking a cautious step backwards. “I just… um, I’ve never met anyone with that much… money before.”

Jealousy.

Envy.

Ochako was envious of how much money Himiko had.

“Do you want some of it?” Himiko blurted before she could think twice, and immediately tried to backtrack as two pairs of eyes swung around to face her. “I mean— um, do you want a ride home? We could… uh, it’d probably save you some money on the fare back, right?”

Ochako blinked at her, before taking another step back, a wobbly smile on her face.

“No, it’s okay, it’s already paid for anyways,” she replied, trying to stay cheerful, and Himiko drooped, guilt clawing up her insides. “I— I, um, should probably get going now anyways. Nice talking to you!”

Himiko stared after her as Ochako ran off, another twinge of guilt twisting her insides as, instead of running off towards the train station, Ochako noticed Midoriya walking home with Iida and ran up to join them.

“…I’m sorry,” Momo whispered, resting a hand on Himiko’s arm. “She’s… it can be difficult talking to new people sometimes. I— if it helps, I don’t think she really meant anything by it.”

“…I know,” Himiko whispered back. “I just… wish I got to talk to her for a little longer, that’s all.”

They got into the limousine together, and Himiko tried (and failed) not to think of the girl with pretty pink cheeks, gorgeous brown eyes, and brilliant smile that lit up the world around her the entire car ride back to Yaoyorozu manor.

Himiko had never been good at making new friends.

Throughout her entire life, Himiko had stuck to Momo like a magnet — even before she got adopted, she had always found herself gravitating to the Yaoyorozu, despite being in different grades (at the time.)

She had seen Momo deal with others’ reactions to the Yaoyorozu wealth — the people that gravitated towards them specifically because of that wealth, trying to grab a piece of it, or avoiding them because they felt intimidated.

But Himiko had never had to deal with it herself.

Sure, people would try the same tactics — complimenting her hair, her figure, how her eyes sparkled in the light — but Himiko always hid behind Momo, allowing her little sister to deal with the fortune-seekers for her.

…Besides, most of them found it easier to get closer to the real Yaoyorozu — the biological one, with more claim to the fortune and less signs of mental instability and horrific fangs.

So, seeing Ochako react like that to her… it hurt.

More than Himiko thought it would.

Himiko had so, so many crushes over the years — following them around through the hallways, eyes glued to their figure and face and every time they laughed, trying to mimic the cute expressions she noticed them making in the mirror.

But Tokage was the first time a crush had actually spoken to her — and not just a quick, “Hey, how’s it going!” or “Can you hand me that pencil?” but a real, actual conversation.

…And it had been a trick, sure, a way for Himiko to give out information about her Quirk, her weaknesses, the strategies she would have to employ.

But it had felt good.

And then Ochako came along, and dialed it all up to eleven.

She talked to Himiko — really, actually talked to her, for more than her fortune, or a need for strategy, or some other twisted reason.

She had saved her, showing up in the classroom as Bakugo flung her into the wall.

She talked her down when Himiko lost her mind, pinning her to the floor and waiting for the bloodlust to subside, humoring all her inane ramblings about everything and nothing while Ochako waited for their teacher to arrive.

She had offered her her blood, and went out of her way to find Himiko someone else’s when it became clear her own wouldn’t help with the test.

And now…

Now Ochako was afraid of her.

No— not afraid. Jealous.

But jealous in a polite way — Ochako didn’t want their wealth.

She didn’t want money, or fame, or power — she simply wanted friends.

So it hurt so much when she backed away, making up an excuse about being late and then immediately going back to her real friends — to Midoriya.

Deku, Himiko thought angrily, only to wince a moment later. She didn’t want to be mad at him — he already had enough going wrong in his life, with that Quirk that ripped through his bones and muscles as easily as breathing.

But… he was still her competition.

The thing taking Ochako’s attention away from her.

…And the person Ochako felt safe with, far more than she ever could be when faced with Himiko.

Himiko, and her rotten Quirk that wanted to take, instead of give like Midoriya’s.

Himiko pressed her head to the glass, and let out a long sigh.

“…I fall way too easily,” she stated mournfully, and Momo let out a small, equally sad noise of agreement.

Chapter Text

Himiko hummed, swinging her legs under her desk as she doodled pictures of Ochako around the edges of her homework.

It was her second day of UA, and it had all gone pretty well, in her opinion — English in the mornings, lunch in the cafeteria, and Hero Basic Training in the afternoons.

They were currently waiting for their teacher to arrive — apparently, he was running late.

…Or maybe he just wanted to make a dramatic entrance.

“I am… HERE!!!!!” a loud, exuberant voice exclaimed, and Himiko jerked her head up in time to see All Might swing himself into the room, dressed in a bright red costume with white lines and a blue cape — his silver age costume. “Coming through the door like a hero!!!”

All the students around her gasped, making a few comments about the number one pro ACTUALLY deciding to teach a class at UA — their class.

Himiko couldn’t help the grin that spread across her face — All Might just had that kind of effect on people.

“Welcome to the most important class at UA High!” he declared, and Himiko had to cover her snort — of course the class that All Might teaches would be considered the most important, no matter what it was… though, technically, he was right. Becoming a hero was very important. “Think of it as ‘Hero-ing 101.’ Here, you will learn the basics of being a pro. And what it means to fight in the name of good! Let’s get into it — today’s lesson will pull no punches!”

“Fight training,” Bakugo grinned sadistically as All Might pulled a card with the word “Battle” emblazoned onto it in bright red letters.

“Real combat?” Midoriya questioned.

“But one of the keys of being a hero iiiiiis…” All Might pointed to the wall, where four separate sections of the wall were beginning to move. “Looking good! These were designed for you based on your Quirk registration forms and the requests you sent in before school started. Get yourself suited up, and then meet me at Training Ground Beta!”

Himiko’s grin only widened.

Let’s do this.

Himiko hummed brightly as she skipped down the hall towards the changing room with the others.

Her briefcase was labeled number nineteen — both the number she had received during the Quirk Apprehension Test and her seat in class, though Himiko was pretty sure that was a coincidence; Momo was in seat number twenty, yet she had come in first during the examination, while Midoriya, the actual number twenty, was in the seat ahead of her — number eighteen.

Himiko swung herself into the changing room, one hand catching the doorframe to help her keep her momentum, and Momo smiled at the delight on her older sister’s face.

The sound of shuffling clothes and briefcases being opened sounded around the room as the others began changing, and Himiko’s hands hovered over the latches.

This is it. The moment you really become a hero.

Logically, Himiko knew there were loads more hoops she had to jump through before she could really call herself a hero, but this felt like an important step in that process — the first time she wore her hero costume. The most important step.

Licensing is probably the most important, Himiko argued with herself. That’s when you can actually start being a hero, outside of just class.

“…Himiko? Is something wrong?” Momo questioned, pausing in the middle of tugging her top on to shoot the blonde a questioning look.

“I— uh, no, sorry, just got in my own head a bit,” Himiko laughed, finally unlatching the case as her fingers thrummed with excitement.

…That excitement promptly vanished as she spied the only things inside the briefcase: a belt, some shoes, and… a note.

Himiko stared at her costume, then over at Hagakure: her hero costume was simply a pair of gloves and some boots.

I wonder, which of us would be wearing more? Himiko wondered wryly, before grabbing the note.

Dear Miss Yaoyorozu,

Our team was unable to come up with a suitable way to meld your Quirk with our fabric, so we had to reach a compromise.
Your costume is retractable, so you may activate your Quirk at any time without fear of it ripping.
Enjoy.

The Aichi Prefecture Support Gear and Costume Design Company

Himiko took a deep breath, crumpling the paper in her hands and pressing a fist to her forehead.

Of course.

Of COURSE the support company they went to wouldn’t be able to do as she requested — they weren’t able to for Momo, so why would they be able to do it for her?

“Woah, is that your costume?” Mina questioned, leaning over to peer into Himiko’s briefcase. “There’s, like… nothing there. Probably even less that Hagakure.”

“What?!” Hagakure whirled around, boots pattering against the tile and gloves resting against Himiko’s shoulder as she leaned against her. Do not think about how she’s technically naked right now. “Ohmygosh, you’re right! What the heck?!”

Himiko reached into the briefcase, pulling out the belt — it was actually pretty hefty, she realized, weighing it in her hands.

“…The support company said it’s retractable,” she replied quietly. “To fit with my Quirk.”

“Ohhhh,” multiple voices said at the same time. “Wait, really? Does your Quirk replicate clothing or something? It didn’t really seem that way when you transformed into Mina and Ojiro, but…”

“Yeah, I can replicate clothes,” Himiko replied with a sigh. “Though, I wonder how fast this thing works…”

“Put it on! Put it on!” Hagakure pattered her hands against Himiko’s arm, and she laughed, placing the belt back down and reaching for her shirt.

“Alright, alright! Just gimme a second…”

She unbuttoned her blazer, tugged of her shirt, and toed off her shoes, taking off her skirt and tights next.

Himiko replaced them with the items in the briefcase — the plain white shoes with golden trim, and the faded yellow belt, the same color and (mostly) shape as Momo’s. The only stand-out features were the boxes, attached to either side of her hips, the small metal cylinders in front of that, striped with yellow at the top and bottom, and the belt buckle — a bulky emblem with the letter Y carved into it, standing out just a little bit more than the other pieces of the belt.

Himiko ran her hands along it, trying to ignore her classmates stares, and felt that the Y moved a little bit as she ran her fingers over it — it was a button.

Himiko pressed it, and immediately felt a stinging burn run across her body, from halfway down her thighs to the tops of her shoulders, even a smaller burn across her lower legs as a pair of replacement tights tugged themselves up at an excruciating speed.

“…OW,” Himiko stated, clutching at the tough fabric that had knitted itself across her body.

“Woah!” everybody else said, staring at the crimson hero costume, at the silver and black lines tracing themselves over her sides and around her shorts.

Mina glanced between Momo and Himiko, cataloging the multitude of similarities between the two costumes — one crimson two piece with a crop top and skirt, the other a one piece with shorts, both with black and silver lines tracing their sides and bulky yellow belts — and snorted. “You really like your sister, huh?”

Himiko flushed. “I— it’s just—!”

“We live together in the same household,” Momo pointed out, smoothly saving Himiko from any further embarrassment. “It’s only natural that our costumes would share some similarities.”

Mina just smiled, obviously amused. “Uh-huh. Yeah, sure — can’t wait when you start adding elements of Uraraka’s costume to yours, Himiko.”

“Huh? Mine? Why would she do that?” Ochako questioned in confusion. “Why me, of all people?”

Himiko glanced over at Ochako, and immediately lost all higher brain functions.

The tight, bluish-gray bodysuit Ochako was wearing brought out her curvy figure, the light pink stripe down her middle unintentionally highlighting her chest area, and the small circles just above that weren’t helping — Himiko practically had to force her eyes down to the chunky knee-high boots Ochako was wearing, face flushed bright red.

“I meeeeaaaaan,” Mina sang, dancing over to Ochako and flinging one arm around her shoulder as Himiko blushed. “You did save her, right? You’re, like, her hero.”

Ochako’s face slightly flushed behind her pink-tinted visor. “I— um, I didn’t— I was just lucky! He didn’t know I was there, or what my power could do, so…” Ochako jerked her head away from the rest of them, voice becoming slightly higher. “…Aren’t we all heroes now? That’s… what I did isn’t anything special!”

Mina laughed, and Ochako flushed even further.

“W-we should be heading down to Ground Beta now!” Ochako suddenly declared. “We… uh, we’re all suited up now! Let’s… let’s go!”

“Yes, Uraraka is correct,” Momo stated, even as Mina groaned. “We have all donned our hero costumes, and should really get going.”

“Yayyyy!!!!! Let’s go hero!!!” Ochako declared, raising one fist into the air and running out of the room.

Himiko stared after her, a soft smile on her face. She’s so cute when she’s flustered.

“You’ve got it baaaaaaad~!” Mina sang as soon as Ochako was out of earshot, and Himiko nearly choked.

“Wh— no I don’t— I mean, what are you talking about?” Himiko sputtered, trying to step away as Mina squeezed her body against her.

“Come on, you are just so freaking obvious about it,” Mina grinned as the other girls glanced around in confusion — though, unfortunately for Himiko, it seemed Kyoka also knew what Mina was talking about, a flat expression on her face as she watched their antics. “You’ve got, like, the biggest, fattest crush on Uraraka.”

“She what?!” Hagakure gasped, floating gloves coming up to cover an invisible mouth.

Asui tilted her head at Himiko, calculating, and Kyoka rolled her eyes.

“Whatever. I’m following Uraraka — the rest of you do what you want,” Kyoka announced, stuffing her hands in her pockets and strutting out of the room.

“Yes, we really should follow Uraraka,” Momo added, grabbing Himiko’s arm and attempting to pull her after Kyoka.

Mina just tightened her grip on Himiko, not letting her budge a single inch.

“Admit it, Yaoyorozu — you’ve fallen hard,” Mina announced, and Himiko flinched, trying to pry Mina’s hand off her arm.

“S-so? What of it? I get crushes on lots of people — I got one on a girl during the middle of the freaking entrance exams,” Himiko attempted to bluster, glancing away from Mina.

She did not buy it.

“Awww, were you as crazy about her as you are about Uraraka?” Mina teased lightly. “Did she save you, too? Orrrrr… is Uraraka special? Because, from what I’ve seen, it certainly looks like somethin’ rather intense.”

“Please let us go find our teacher,” Momo begged.

Mina ignored her.

“Oh my gosh!” Hagakure gasped. “You get crushes on girls? Really?!”

“Yes it’s nothing special now let me go,” Himiko hissed, glaring up at Mina and leaning her body weight as hard against Mina’s hand as possible.

It was rather remarkable how strong she was.

“Do you have a crush on any of us?” Hagakure continued, sounding excited.

“…Mina literally just told you I have a crush on Ochako??????”

“You do!!!!!!!” Hagakure squealed, and Himiko winced, trying to move her hands to cover her ears.

The arm Mina was holding onto didn’t quite make it… but her other did.

Himiko glanced down at her belt, and was struck with a wicked idea.

She didn’t get mad at me for biting her arm. Chances are she won’t get mad about me threatening her at needle-point.

Himiko grabbed one of the metal cylinders from around her belt, a long tube unfurling behind it, and clicked a small, almost unnoticeable button on it’s side, forcing a long metal spike out from the top as she levered it against Mina’s throat.

“Let go of me,” Himiko hissed, and Mina paused, staring down at her.

“…Geez. Soooo quick to violence, aren’t we, Yaoyorozu?” Mina questioned dryly, giving her a flat, unimpressed look. “You could’ve just asked.”

“I did,” Himiko growled back. “Now: let. Go.”

Mina slowly lifted her hands off Himiko, raising them into the air above her head, and Himiko nodded, pressing the button again to retract the needle and dropping the syringe, allowing it to coil back inwards and magnetize onto her belt.

“Thank you,” Himiko told her curtly, and walked out of the room, grabbing onto Momo as she went. “Come on, let’s go.”

They walked in silence for a moment, the other girls scrambling as they discussed what Himiko had just done, until Momo finally leaned down to whisper in her ear.

“Just to let you know, I do not approve of what you did back there,” she informed her lowly.

“I didn’t have a choice,” Himiko replied flatly, trying not to let her lips curl back — in guilt, disgust, or anger, she had no idea.

Momo gave a small, disgruntled noise, but leaned back up, continuing the rest of the walk to Ground Beta in silence.

Himiko shifted on her feet, barely paying attention to All Might as he complimented their outfits, explained their assignment, and said they would be drawing lots to find out their assigned partners. The only thing that snapped Himiko out of her reverie was hearing Ochako’s name — and finding out that she was the one Himiko was getting assigned to.

“Himiko! What are the chances?” Ochako laughed, flouncing up to her. “We’re a team!”

Himiko stared at her, eyes wide and cheeks flushed. “Y-yeah! What… what a coincidence!” Himiko just barely managed to get out, her voice cracking.

Himiko’s eyes wandered over to Momo, watching her walk up to Midoriya — the two of them had been paired together.

“Oh, they are gonna nerd out together so hard,” Ochako commented, and Himiko laughed.

“Definitely. I’ve barely even talked to Midoriya, and I can already tell he’s the second-smartest kid in the class.”

“Momo’s first?” Ochako questioned teasingly, and Himiko smiled back at her.

“Of course.”

Ochako returned her smile, then the two of them focused back onto All Might as he drew the two teams that would be fighting first: Team D and Team A.

Bakugo and Midoriya.

The two boys exchanged looks, and Himiko felt a shiver run down her spine.

“Woah, those two look really intense,” Ochako commented, gazing over at the two as All Might instructed them over to the monitoring room. “I wonder what their deal is?”

“Yeah — you should’ve seen the look on Bakugo’s face when Midoriya first walked into the classroom,” Himiko agreed, making a face as she remembered the tension palpable in the air. “He was mad — and much more so than usual.”

“…This was before you got pinned to the wall, right?” Ochako questioned, gazing at her as they walked with the others towards the monitoring room. “Or did Deku arrive after?”

“…Uh, he’s… he’s actually part of the reason why I got pinned against the wall,” Himiko grimaced, and Ochako blinked at her in surprise. “I, uh, kinda called the weird vibe going on between them ‘unresolved sexual tension.’”

Ochako snorted out a laugh, and she had to cover her mouth, staring up at Himiko with wide eyes. “You didn’t.”

“I did,” Himiko replied, a sardonic smile tugging at the edge of her lips. “And I’d probably do it again — Bakugo could definitely do with the ego-check.”

“Yeah, but—” Ochako hesitated, eyes round. “…You didn’t have to call it that.”

“What else am I supposed to call it?!” Himiko questioned. “They’re so weird about each other it’s insane. If it’s not gay, what else could it be?”

“…Fated rivals?” Ochako offered, glancing back at the boys. “That seems to be pretty accurate, at least in my opinion.”

“Gay rivals,” Himiko grumbled, and Ochako flushed bright red again.

“Stop calling it that!”

“Why?” Himiko grinned, glancing back at Ochako. “It’s funny, and Bakugo totally deserves it, even if it’s not true.”

“You can’t— you can’t just say stuff like that!” Ochako protested. “Gay isn’t— gay isn’t some type of insult you can just hurl around like that.”

Himiko tilted her head at Ochako. “…I never said I was using it as an insult. Just… a vibe I was picking up on.”

Ochako huffed. “Well, it certainly feels like you’re using it as an insult — and I don’t like it! The only two gay people I’ve ever run into are these two old ladies that live on my floor, and they’re so nice to me, Himiko. They bake me treats, and tell me stories, and are so funny, so I don’t — I don’t like you talking about them like that.”

“…You’ve only ever met two gay people before?” Himiko checked, tilting her head and trying not to think about the implications of Ochako’s statement — the those old ladies were gay, but not her. Ochako nodded. “Well, I guess you’ve just met one more — because I’m bisexual.”

Ochako jerked her head back up, staring at Himiko, and she extended a fist.

“…Nice to meet you?” she tried, tilting her head nervously, and Ochako took a moment to reboot before returning the fist-bump, beaming up at Himiko.

“That’s so cool! I’m glad you can tell me that — I know it can be hard sometimes.”

“Eh, it’s fine,” Himiko replied, shrugging her off. “Most people aren’t that weird about it these days, though heteronormativity can still be an absolute pain.”

“…Heteronormativity?” Ochako echoed, something… strange flashing in her eyes.

Something that gave Himiko just a little bit of hope.

“Heteronormativity — it means people assuming the default of everyone around them is straight, at least until proven otherwise,” Himiko explained. “It can be especially painful when paired with comphet.”

Ochako looked like something was breaking behind her expression, so Himiko decided to have mercy on her.

“But, hey, we don’t need to talk about stuff like that right now! Who do you think is gonna win — Momo or Bakugo?”

“Definitely Deku!” Ochako piped up, diving into the new topic immediately as she shoved all thoughts of heteronormativity and comphet from her mind. “He was so cool in the practical — I don’t think you were in the same zone as us, but he managed to take out the zero-pointer in one hit!!!”

“He did???!!!” Himiko questioned, and Ochako happily launched into an explanation of exactly what happened during her own entrance exam into UA.

She’s so cute, Himiko thought, watching Ochako admiringly. And quite possibly in denial, if that look I spotted earlier meant anything.

Can’t wait to be there to catch her when that whole mess crumbles beneath her.

Watching Bakugo and Midoriya fight each other was… intense.

Himiko was silent as Bakugo rocketed around a corner, yelling at Midoriya and trying to taunt him into using his Quirk.

“…Does he not realize that using his Quirk hurts Midoriya?” Himiko questioned Ochako in a soft mutter, trying not to draw attention to herself as she spoke. “Or is that what he’s trying to do?”

“It’s a good strategy…” Ochako murmured back. “Though, I don’t really like it. Poor Deku…”

“At least Momo’s doing pretty well,” Himiko pointed out, gesturing to the screen where they could see the younger Yaoyorozu duking it out with Iida. “She’s bound to wear him out eventually at this rate.”

“Yeah, but the timer…”

Himiko frowned, glancing at the fifteen-minute timer All Might had placed on the exercise, before just sighing, leaning onto Ochako’s shoulder and causing the other girl to look at her in surprise.

“This whole thing is rough. I wish we knew what roles we’ll be placed in, so we could plan in advance…” she grumbled.

“I… think that may be kind of the… point?” Ochako pointed out, raising one hand and hovering it only a few inches from Himiko’s skin, as if she were unsure what to do with the girl. “That way, the people who go last won’t have a huge advantage over the people in first — I mean, besides being able to watch all the people that went before them, but still. Kinda hard to balance everything.”

“Aww, but I wanted to have an unfair advantage,” Himiko pouted theatrically, and Ochako laughed.

“You’re so weird.”

“So are you, little miss infinity girl,” Himiko replied, pressing a finger to Ochako’s nose, and she flushed.

“Why do you even care about that so much?” she questioned, glancing away in embarrassment. “It’s just my Quirk — since whatever I touch with all five of my fingertips doesn’t have their gravity reactivated until I manually deactivate my Quirk, without having a distance limitation… that softball throw was almost made for me.”

“You have a very cool Quirk,” Himiko informed her, wrapping her arms around Ochako’s neck and squeezing her tight against her. “I like it. And it made you an infinity kid!”

“What’s an infinity kid?!!!” Ochako sputtered, instinctively moving to wrap her arms around Himiko in return. “That’s an entire category?????”

“Just a thing I noticed during the recommendations,” Himiko hummed, simply clinging tighter. “Only three—”

“They’re gonna kill each other!”

Himiko jerked her head back up, swiveling around to stare at the screen with wide eyes.

“You’ve gotta stop this!”

Not there, not there, not— Himiko’s eyes searched the screen for any sign of dark green hair, bunny hood long since ripped apart by Bakugo’s explosions, and finally found him, charging straight at Bakugo with red lines of power tracing his arm.

Midoriya looked to be in rough shape, and from what she had seen of the fight (while she was still watching it) she knew that Bakugo had been targeting him.

So, seeing him finally go on the offensive like that…

“Both of you, stop—!” All Might started, but it was too late.

Bakugo let off a large explosion right in Midoriya’s face, and Midoriya…

Midoriya aimed his punch towards the sky, ripping through every single floor in the building and shooting a large gust of air up into the sky beyond.

THAT’S Midoriya’s power?!?!?!?!!!!! Himiko gaped at him.

She stood staring at him for a moment too long, and nearly missed how swiftly Momo took advantage of the chaos, shooting out a grappling hook from her arm and hooking it around Iida, using him as her bridge to leap across the large hole in the floor, Iida instinctively moving backwards to not get dragged into the gaping pit… and leading her right up next to the weapon he was supposed to be protecting.

Momo laid her hand against it just before time ran out, securing a victory for the heroes.

…Suddenly, I’m feeling a lot more worried about my own match-up, Himiko thought, staring at the immense destruction displayed on the screen.

All Might went out to the battlefield himself to check out the damage — both to the building and to the students — and Himiko shifted back and forth on her feet, her nerves trying to claw their way out of her skin.

She was barely able to pay attention as the others discussed the match, All Might going over everyone’s tactics and even declaring Iida the MVP — apparently, Momo’s last attack had been a bit too reckless, relying on Iida’s natural impulse to help rather than thinking of him as the villain he was supposed to be.

Momo drooped a little bit, but nodded, a small smile tugging at her lips as if she had expected this outcome.

“Of course, it was very close between the two of you — your quick thinking and remarkable talents really shone in your fight against young Iida — but, ultimately, Iida refused to break character and was a remarkable asset to his team, even if he ended up unintentionally helping the enemy at the end so as not to fall into the hole young Midoriya tore into the building,” All Might explained, nearly making Iida short-circuit at the praise, glasses fogging up from his happy tears.

After all the chaos of the first round, the match between Team B and Team I was almost comically short — Shoto Todoroki, the son of Endeavor and another infinity kid, certainly lived up to all his hype as he completely incapacitated both villain students in an instant, not even harming his teammate when Todoroki sent Shoji outside before he finished fully freezing the building.

Teams H and J were up next, with Tokoyami and Kirishima having to duke it out in a massive brawl while Asui tried to sneak past Sero’s tape, and then…

“Team G will be the heroes, and Team C the villains!”

…Himiko’s turn.

She took in a deep breath, and met Ochako’s eyes. “You ready?”

“Let’s do this!” Ochako cheered, and Himiko couldn’t help her smile.

At least we don’t have the worst opponents in the world.

Kaminari and Jiro, aka Kyoka.

The one who had sat next to Himiko during the Quirk exam, complaining about not everyone being able to do well when not all of their Quirks were physical.

Well, let’s see how you do when out in the field, miss earphone jack, Himiko thought to herself, walking into the building they were using as their “hideout” for the assignment.

“Alright, so, we’ve got five minutes to come up with a plan,” Himiko told Ochako as soon as they were out of earshot, not wasting a single one of those precious seconds. “You’ve got Zero Gravity to rely on, and I’ve got Transform — but no blood on me right now.”

“Your supply of blood, right here!” Ochako chirped, raising her hand.

Himiko tried not to blush.

“Your form doesn’t grant me any extra strength or abilities — are we relying on deception?” Himiko questioned, glancing back at her.

Ochako shrugged. “I mean, we are supposed to be the villains here.”

And my Quirk is nothing if not villainous, Himiko thought, only to force her eyes shut a moment later. No. Don’t think about that right now — just focus on winning.

“Okay, great. As soon as we get to the weapon I can use one of my syringes to take some of your blood — but that still doesn’t answer the question of strategy,” Himiko pointed out. “Got any ideas on that front?”

“Uhhh— maybe I could float the weapon to put it in a really hard-to-reach spot?” Ochako offered, and Himiko tilted her head.

“It’s supposed to be a bomb, right? Would the villains really take the risk of it exploding just to make it a little harder for the heroes to grab?”

“…I mean, Iida was moving it around a bit, so I didn’t think it would be that bad…” Ochako grumbled.

Himiko smiled. “It’s still a good idea. I’m just trying to get into the minds of the people we’re supposed to be embodying — like Iida was.”

“Oooh, yes! That’s what got him the MVP spot in the first place!” Ochako grinned.

“So, how does your Quirk work? Can you float an infinite amount of things, or do you have a weight limit or something?” Himiko questioned. “Earlier, you said distance doesn’t matter, and I don’t think time should either, ‘cause it really took a while for that softball to travel into space.”

“Actually…” Ochako started, tapping her fingertips nervously. “I, um, can get pretty nauseous if I use too much of my Quirk or for too long… it’s pretty embarrasing, actually.”

“Then we both have embarrassing Quirks,” Himiko replied without thinking, completely missing the startled look Ochako gave her at that admission. “But, I was just wondering — could you maybe float some objects around the hallway, to help block their path?”

“…Wait, should I have been doing that this whole time?!” Ochako questioned, glancing back down the hallway at all the perfectly normal empty space they were leaving behind.

Himiko laughed. “Maybe not. I mean, it is still going to be zero gravity — pretty easy to shove away.”

“Alriiiight,” Ochako drew out slowly, walking a bit quicker to catch up with Himiko. “We’ve knocked out two different strategies, but we’re not really coming up with a solid plan. How about we start with this: are we capturing Jiro and Kaminari, or waiting out the clock?”

“…I mean, probably capturing; if I’m going to take your blood, I’ll be doing it to trick them, right? Kinda hard to do without, y’know, actually encountering them.”

“Yeah, but you could do that without actually trying to capture them,” Ochako rebutted. “We’ll probably come face-to-face at some point, so even stalling for time would include meeting them at least once.”

“…Fair enough,” Himiko relented, before stopping as they finally made it into the room with the weapon. “So, we’re… uh, you’re still fine with…?”

Ochako presented her arm to Himiko, smiling brightly. “Yep! Totally cool with whatever — do what you need to do!”

This girl is going to be the death of me, Himiko decided, grabbing for one of the syringes on her waist.

“Alright, I just need to—” Himiko paused, staring at the fabric encasing Ochako’s arm. “…Uhhh, find a vein.”

“Oh! Yeah, duh!” Ochako grabbed at the round wrist bracer wrapped around her arm, disengaging the mechanism that kept it attached and allowing Himiko to see the curious little gizmo that rested inside — it looked like some kind of blood pressure gauge, interestingly enough. “Here you go!”

Himiko tugged up the fabric of Ochako’s hero suit, and stuck in the needle.

“…Thank you, by the way,” she muttered softly as she watched the blood flow through the clear plastic tube attached to her belt, trying not to drool. “I don’t— I don’t think you realize just how much this means to me, offering me your blood like this.”

“I mean, it’s part of your Quirk,” Ochako pointed out, tilting her head at Himiko. “Why wouldn’t I help you activate it — it’s to help us win!”

“Yeah, but you also offered your blood to me yesterday, before you knew you were going to be on a team with me,” Himiko pointed out. “When the only thing I was talking about was how… how people tasted.”

Like the disgusting freak I am.

“Oh, yeah, you’ve totally gotta tell me how I taste,” Ochako grinned. “I wanna know if your prediction about me tasting like marshmallows and jack-o-lanterns is correct.”

“…You’re so weird,” Himiko muttered, and Ochako laughed.

“You’re weirder!”

It felt too good to be true.

Like, at any second now, Ochako would realize what she was doing — who she was allowing to touch her like this, watch her like this, taste her like this. That she would finally spy the monster, hidden, lurking under Himiko’s surface, and jerk back, those warm brown eyes hardening into something darker.

…But she didn’t.

Ochako continued smiling down at Himiko, eyes sparkling with trust and hope, and Himiko let out a breath, withdrawing the needle from her skin.

And then, because she was an idiot, apparently, Himiko leaned down towards Ochako’s arm, pressing the flat of her fangs against the small divot her equipment had left in the other girl’s skin.

Ochako stilled, mostly likely remembering what she had done to Mina just yesterday, and Himiko quickly jerked her face back in a panic.

“Sorry! Sorry, just— I, uh,” Himiko stammered, trying not to look at Ochako’s face but eyes locking onto it anyways — and nearly losing her breath as she saw just the faintest hint of confusion.

Not fear.

Not disgust.

Just the urge to know.

“…Um, I’ve noticed that the things I bite tend to heal quicker, so… maybe if I pressed my teeth to your wound that same property would apply?” Himiko finished, trying not to show how rattled she felt in that moment.

“Oh! That makes sense,” the confusion disappeared from Ochako’s face, and her smile reappeared in its place. “Now! Let’s get to planning!”

“Thank you,” Himiko blurted one last time. “I just — thank you. So much. For everything.”

“I told you!” Ochako chirped back, tugging her sleeve back down and reattaching her wrist brace. “It really doesn’t matter to me — as long as you’re happy!”

“Yeah, but,” Himiko licked her lips, glancing away. “…Blood, at least to me, isn’t about activating my Quirk — it’s something much, much deeper than that,” Himiko took a deep breath, trying to explain. “It’s… it’s a part of someone’s body, part of their soul — and you’re letting me have a piece of yours. I… I don’t even know how to begin telling you how much this means to me. I just… really, really appreciate this, Ochako.”

Ochako’s eyes were beginning to water.

“Okay yes this is great and all but we should really talk about this some other time!” she squeaked, and, as if to punctuate her statement, All Might’s voice came over their ear pieces, announcing that time was up. “Crap — we didn’t even have time to come up with a plan!”

…Oh no.

Himiko scrambled for the boxes lining her belt, where the blood filtered into.

She grabbed the only vial that shone with red, but something else clattered to the ground as well — something small, and gray, and rectangular.

Ochako knelt down to pick it up. “What’s this?”

“Uhhh—” Himiko blinked at it. She hadn’t requested any extra gear, besides the needles and vials. “…I haven’t opened these before so I actually have no idea.”

Ochako examined the object, and Himiko was really just hoping Kaminari was doing something really stupid right now to delay his team.

Her finger brushed against a button on the rectangle, and a flat, sleek blade shot out of the tip.

Both girls stared at the weapon, eyes wide.

“…Okay no time for processing you take that one and I guess, uh— I’m taking this one???” Himiko blinked as she opened the boxes on the left side of her costume and found a second knife that she hadn’t even asked for.

“Are we even allowed to have these????” Ochako hissed at her, and Himiko shrugged.

“Came with the costume so my guess would be yes.”

Himiko shoved the vial of blood into her mouth, trying not to moan in ecstasy as pure starlight hit her tongue, and Ochako stared at the expression on her face.

“…Okay you have definitely got to tell me how I taste.”

“Later,” Himiko reminded her, letting her skin ripple into an exact replica of Ochako’s and pocketing the empty vial.

Himiko hesitated as her hand hovered over the button that would release her costume, remembering the sting from before when she put it on, before just taking a deep breath and stabbing her thumb against the right red Y emblazoned on the buckle.

Thankfully, since she had replicated Ochako’s costume, it didn’t sting too bad as the fabric retracted into her belt, but Himiko still couldn’t help her frown — if anyone noticed the belt and shoes Himiko-Ochako was wearing, it would be an instant giveaway… and it wasn’t like the yellow actually suited Ochako’s costume, either.

“Come on, let’s go fight,” Himiko-Ochako told Ochako-Ochako, grabbing her by the arm and tugging her along.

“Wait, we’re really doing this?!” Ochako yelped. “We’re capturing them, instead of waiting?”

“Yep! We have no plan, so let’s just wing it!” Himiko replied, trying to make her voice sound bright — a mimic of Ochako’s usual tone, in case anyone was listening.

And they definitely were.

Kaminari and Kyoka had already made it up to the floor they were on, one of Kyoka’s ear-thingies plugged into the wall, and Himiko threw Ochako against the wall before either of the hero team students could spot them.

“Do you know either of their Quirks?” Himiko hissed, as quiet as she could.

“Wh— we’re charging into this not knowing their Quirks?!?!?!” Ochako questioned, sounding alarmed.

“They’re over there,” Kyoka stated flatly, and a moment later Kaminari rounded the corner, eyes bulging as he spotted the pair of them.

“Wh— two Urarakas?????” he exclaimed, staring at the pair of them.

He hesitated.

Himiko did not.

She immediately launched herself out of their hiding spot, bowling Kaminari over and launching him into a wall.

“Hey! Uraraka, ouch!” Kaminari complained, hands coming up to grab at Himiko’s arms.

“Sorry!” the real Ochako called back, jumping onto his arm and wrapping capture tape around his hands just as sparks of electricity started to crackle from them, stinging Himiko’s arms.

“Huh?” Kaminari blinked, looking between the Ochako that had attacked him and the one that had apologized for it.

“Kaminari is out!” All Might announced over their ear pieces just as Kyoka hissed. “Only young Jiro remains on the hero side!”

“Crap, Kaminari, you were supposed to be my muscle!” Kyoka hissed, taking a step back from the pair of identical Ochakos.

“Sorry, they just — look at them!” Kaminari protested, gesturing at the pair with his bound hands as Himiko and Ochako got off him, staring Kyoka down as perfect mirrors of each other. “I was confused!”

“Heeeeey Kyoka!” Himiko chirped, whipping out her knife — Ochako followed suit a moment later. “Can you tell which one of us is the real Ochako?”

“Well, first of all, you just called me Kyoka — only Himiko’s called me that so far,” Kyoka pointed out, taking another step back. “And second of all, you’re still wearing your own belt, instead of Uraraka’s. That’s kind of a dead giveaway.”

Himiko pouted. “I kind of hate my hero costume design.”

“Aw, it’s okay!” Ochako chirped, placing her hand on Himiko’s shoulder. “I’m sure you can always have it adjusted later!”

“Maybe, but—” Himiko suddenly felt much lighter on her feet, and realized what Ochako’s gesture actually was — an excuse to activate Zero Gravity.

Himiko immediately shoved off the floor, jumping up to the ceiling and back down at an angle, straight towards Kyoka.

Kyoka’s eyes widened, and she cursed.

“I did not sign up for this!” she cried, beginning to book it down the hall.

“Sign up for whaaaat?” Himiko questioned in a sing-song, ping-ponging her way down the hall thanks to Ochako’s Quirk. “I thought you wanted to do hero work, Kyoka!”

Kyoka grit her teeth, then suddenly spun around, plugging her earphone jacks into the speakers embedded in her boots. “Heartbeat Distortion!”

Himiko gasped as the loud, thumping beat drowned out her thoughts, slamming her back into the wall opposite her thanks to Zero Gravity’s weightlessness.

“Release!”

Suddenly, Ochako appeared from behind Kyoka, having used a separate hallway to cut her off, dropping down from the ceiling and pouncing on the other girl.

“You crazy twins!” Kyoka cursed as Ochako slapped a bit more capture tape around the second hero team student.

“Both heroes have been apprehended! The villain team wins!” All Might announced, and Ochako immediately darted across the hallway to check on her double.

“Are you okay?!”

Himiko groaned, smacking her lips as she tasted blood in her mouth — and not the lingering remnants of Ochako’s.

“Yeah. Yeah, it just took me a little off guard. That move was insane,” she added towards Kyoka, who was still face-down on the floor with capture tape around her wrists.

“Can you help me up now?” she grumbled.

“Guys! Don’t forget about me!!!” Kaminari’s voice echoed down the hallway.

A few moments later, and the four of them were headed back towards All Might and the rest of the class, Himiko still wearing Ochako’s skin.

“Where did those knives even come from?” Kyoka grumbled as they walked back. “It was really freaking creepy to see twin Urarakas blocking the hallway and wielding knives — one with a bit more murderous intent than the other.”

“I do not have murderous intent!” Himiko protested in offense, and Kyoka grinned.

“Who said I was talking about you?”

“I don’t think I could ever have ‘murderous intent,’” Ochako stated fervently, and Himiko raised an eyebrow at Kyoka. See?

“I’m used to seeing cute girls, but seeing two of the same cute girl really threw me off,” Kaminari complained and Ochako’s cheeks turned pink, causing Himiko to shoot him a glare.

“I’m just glad you didn’t actually stab me,” Kyoka declared, stretching her arms out above her head. “Freaky enough that you had them in the first place.”

“I, uh… I didn’t actually ask for any knives in my hero costume,” Himiko admitted, causing three pairs of eyes to all glance in her direction at once. “They were just kinda… there, hidden in my blood storage.”

Kyoka looked intrigued, Ochako worried, and Kaminari just confused.

“Wait, why would they give you something you didn’t even ask for?” he questioned. “That’s really weird.”

“Yeah, and I’m never even allowed to touch any knives, so it’s not like I’ll be able to use them,” Himiko added, nodding along to Kaminari’s statement and trying to ignore the prickling feeling along her back.

“Himiko…” Ochako started, only to get interrupted by Kyoka.

“Wait, you’re not allowed to use knives? Why? …Did you, like, do something with them, or…?”

“My bio parents didn’t trust me with any sharp objects, simply because of my Quirk, and that rule kinda transferred over to my real family when I got adopted,” Himiko shrugged, trying to seem casual.

Ochako’s hands tightened.

“They shouldn’t treat you like that, just because of your Quirk,” Ochako stated with a surprising amount of conviction. “You didn’t even do anything.”

Himiko fell silent.

I mean, it makes sense though — we all saw what I did to Mina yesterday, when all I had was my teeth.

What would’ve happened had I wielded an actual weapon?

“And those costume designers, too!” Ochako added passionately. “Just because your Quirk involves blood doesn’t mean you’ll want to cut people!”

“Yeah, if she needs any extra blood she can always just use those teeth of hers,” Kaminari joked, and Kyoka smacked him as Himiko flinched.

“Don’t be a jerk, Kaminari.”

“…Sorry.”

As soon as they reached the monitoring room, Himiko was tackled into a hug by her younger sister.

“Himiko! Are you okay?!!” Momo questioned, cupping her face as she tried examining the blonde for any injuries. “You were knocked into that wall so fast, and—”

“Hey, how d’you know I’m me? I could totally be Ochako right now,” Himiko teased, flashing Ochako’s flat-toothed smile. “I’m a very convincing double.”

Momo just flatly gestured to the large Y engraved on her belt.

Himiko tried not to frown.

“But, seriously, Himiko — are you okay?” Momo asked her gently. “Do we need to take you to Recovery Girl?”

Himiko shook her head. “Nah, it’s not as bad as anything Midoriya got. I’ll just visit her later, after class.”

“If you’re sure…”

“Young heroes!!!” All Might called out to them with his usual over-the-top grin. “Well done! I must say, that was some marvelous quick thinking on the part of the villain team! Great use of young Uraraka’s Quirk!!”

“Oh— I, uh, wasn’t really expecting Himiko to launch herself off the walls like that,” Ochako laughed, rubbing at the back of her head. “I was actually planning on having to throw her…”

“Well, it’s a good thing I have such quick reaction times then, huh?” Himiko grinned back at her. “Doubt you throwing me would’ve been half as fast as what actually happened.”

“It was terrifying,” Kyoka stated flatly. “I don’t ever want to have to face the pair of you in battle again.”

“Your contributions to the fight were excellent as well, young Jiro!” All Might told her. “You were quickly able to deduce the location of your enemies, and sent young Kaminari to take care of them, knowing his Quirk was much better for fighting than yours! And your Heartbeat Distortion was wonderfully timed to help you in your fight against young Yaoyorozu, though you didn’t end up able to react to Uraraka’s sneak attack in time.”

“Oh— I, uh, thanks,” Kyoka flushed slightly at All Might’s praise, glancing away. “Though, if I used it earlier, I probably would’ve been able to knock them both out at once…”

“Kaminari was always in range of your attack whenever the two of them were together, so it was actually rather wise of you to not unleash it then,” Momo piped up, placing her hand on Kyoka’s shoulder.

Kyoka stared up at her in surprise and slight wonder, then glanced away, forcing a flat expression over her face. “Whatever.”

“Dudes, that fight was so manly!” Kirishima called out, rushing up to them. “You’ve got to teach me some of those moves you were using!”

“Great job, Himiko!” Mina added, smacking her hand in a high-five.

“Twin shadows, lost in the darkness of the night and clawing back at the light that blinded them,” Tokoyami nodded sagely, and Himiko just stared at him, unsure whether or not that was supposed to be a compliment. “Your synchronization was hauntingly effective.”

Bakugo strutted up to them, hands in his pockets as he glared between the two.

Himiko straightened her spine, preparing herself for whatever snide remark he would send her way.

Instead, he focused on Ochako.

“…You let slime-skin drink your blood,” he observed coldly.

“…Yeah?” Ochako replied nervously, shifting a bit closer to Himiko.

Bakugo grunted. “Why? It’s not like that move even helped you guys very much during the mission.”

“Hey! I totally would’ve fried the both of them with my Electrification if they hadn’t done that!” Kaminari protested, shoving himself towards Bakugo.

“Yeah, and having Himiko use Ochako’s voice totally threw off my scouting, too,” Kyoka added, stepping forwards as well. “It was a smart strategy.”

“Whether or not she’s using pink cheeks’ voice shouldn’t matter,” Bakugo growled, glaring back at Kyoka. “And sparky over here only hesitated because he’s an idiot. Face it, slime-skin only drank from her ‘cause she’s demented.”

“Stop smiling like that! You look like a deviant!”

“You’re a monster!”

“Rotten to the core!”

“I gave birth to something inhuman!”

Himiko took in a shaky breath, pressing her hands over her mouth as she tried to fight back the tears stinging her eyes.

It’s been so many years since someone’s last called me that.

But it still stings just as badly as ever.

A loud thud sounded out, and Himiko glanced back up to see Momo pinning Bakugo to the ground, a wild, protective look in her eyes as she glared down at him.

“Don’t. Ever. Call her that,” Momo growled, quiet, but with an underlying threat so viscerally potent it sucked out every bit of remaining light and warmth from the room.

“What?!!!” Bakugo sputtered, caught so off-guard by this sudden turn of events he even forgot to use his explosions. “Slime-skin???? I’ve called her that before, and you didn’t get half as upset back then!!!”

“Himiko is a wonderful, amazing person, and I will not allow you to talk about her in that manner,” Momo hissed, leaning in dangerously close as she seemed to not even register his reply, too consumed by her soft, seething rage.

“Get OFF me, you FREAK!!!!!” Bakugo roared, shoving ineffectually at Momo’s hands.

A few sparks started to crackle around Bakugo’s palms, and All Might jerked himself back into the moment.

“Woah there!!! Your training match is over, young Bakugo and Yaoyorozu!” All Might attempted to laugh, picking them both up by the collars of their uniforms and separating them easily due to his massive strength. “No need for such violence now!!!!”

Bakugo and Momo continued glaring at each other, her cold, calculated anger contrasted by the uncontrollable rage he showed everybody.

“Now, uh… you two need to cool off! Yaoyorozu, you can stay with your sister, and young Bakugo…” All Might glanced around the room, searching for someone to stick Bakugo with.

“I’ll do it, sir!” Kirishima offered, sticking his hand up into the air. “I won’t let him anywhere near the Yaoyorozus, even if he uses his explosions on me! My Hardening will make sure of that!”

“Thank you, young Kirishima!” All Might nodded approvingly at him, setting Momo back down near Himiko and practically handing Bakugo over to Kirishima. “Keep him as far away from the others as possible!”

“Yes, sir!”

“I DON’T NEED A BABYSITTER!!!!!!” Bakugo roared, throwing a fistful of Explosion at Kirishima, who simply ushered him into the farthest corner of the room, face lined with hardened edges as he activated his Quirk.

All Might proceeded onto directing the final match of the day, Team E vs Team F, and Ochako gently lead Himiko over into the other unoccupied corner, Momo trailing after her like a vengeful bodyguard.

“Are you okay?” Ochako asked Himiko softly, looking like she wanted to give Himiko a hug but unsure of whether or not it would be appropriate. “I… I saw how you reacted when Bakugo said that… that last bit.”

“…When he called me demented,” Himiko stated flatly, trying to keep her voice from wobbling as she clenched her fists.

Momo made a small noise of hatred, wrapping her arms protectively around Himiko and leaning her weight on her shoulder. “I want a do-over for our match, just so I can wipe that smug look off his face,” she growled.

Himiko glanced over at Bakugo, who was glaring at them with a scowl while Kirishima tried to explain something to him.

He doesn’t look smug — he just looks angry.

“So… um, do you wanna… talk about it?” Ochako asked Himiko cautiously — nervously.

“…I just… I kinda have a history with that word — and any words like it,” Himiko sighed, leaning her head back to stare up at the ceiling.

Ochako reached for her hand, hesitated a heartbeat away, then closed the distance, running circles over the back of her hand with her thumb.

“I’m sorry…” she whispered softly. “I don’t— I don’t know how someone could act so cruel, like he does. I… I promise you, none of the rest of us think you’re demented.”

Himiko let out a long breath.

“…I am, though,” she whispered, and Momo hugged her tighter.

“You’re not! You could never, never be considered demented,” Momo told her fiercely, nuzzling into the back of Himiko’s neck. “Anyone who says otherwise is lying.”

“Yeah, but who else likes drinking blood like I do?” Himiko asked softly. “It’s… it’s not natural.”

“It is natural!” Ochako protested, dropping Himiko’s hand to cup both her cheeks. “It’s part of your Quirk, part of your biology! If you like drinking blood, then…” Ochako puffed her cheeks out. “The rest of us should, too.”

“Ochako!” Himiko laughed in surprise, causing the other girl to immediately brighten. “Do not start drinking blood just to make me feel better! That’s— that’s so weird!!!”

“So are you!!!” Ochako grinned in response, flinging herself forwards and wrapping Himiko up in a fierce hug, leaving her sandwiched between her two favorite people in the world.

“…Thanks, you guys,” Himiko murmured softly, resting her head on Ochako’s shoulder. “I… I really needed this.”

Ochako hummed, holding her even tighter. “…You never told me what I tasted like, by the way.”

Himiko flushed.

“Seriously?! You’re asking that now, of all times???”

“Yep! I wanna know,” Ochako grinned, drawing back just enough so she could look Himiko in the eye.

“…Fine,” Himiko grumbled, rolling her eyes with a slight smile tugging itself onto her lips. “I… okay, this is gonna sound really cheesy, but… you tasted like starlight,” she admitted.

Ochako blinked back at her, surprise etched on her face.

“You tasted like starlight, and comets, and meteors streaking through the night sky. You tasted of warmth, and safety and home, and I know that’s weird because we just met, but—! …But that’s what you tasted like. To me.”

Ochako opened her mouth, closed it, then whispered, “…Your Quirk is so cool,” as a blush spread its way across her face.

When Hero Basic Training finished up, Himiko decided to go talk to Aizawa about the knives included in her costume.

“I… I didn’t ask for them, to make that clear,” Himiko told him, wringing her hands. “I don’t even know if they’re legal. So… so I thought I’d tell you, just to… ya know. Get it all out there.”

Aizawa considered her for a moment, expression as neutral as it always was.

“They are legal,” he finally said after several minutes of Himiko trying not to fidget. “In fact, I myself carry a knife. It’s quite the useful weapon for a hero to carry, no matter what you’re using it for — even if you never plan on using it in combat.”

Aizawa pulled out a large knife made out of some strange black metal, setting it on the desk in front of them as Himiko stared at it with wide eyes.

“For example, I carry mine because of my scarf — if it ever gets caught on anything in the middle of combat, I can always cut it loose and continue battling. Another good reason to carry one is in case you ever need to cut some cloth to form a makeshift bandage. You can use them to free civilians, force your way through locked doors, and, yes, fight villains. So. That being said, I’m not going to confiscate your knives, Yaoyorozu,” he told her firmly, looking Himiko straight in the eyes. “It would be foolish to deprive yourself of such a useful asset, when it’s been so freely given to you. But I will give you the option of whether or not you learn to fight with them.”

Himiko stared at him for a long, long moment.

“…Force yourself through locked doors?” she finally echoed.

“Yes, the handle can make for an excellent improvised hammer, especially for the much weaker locks you may come across,” he replied evenly. “And you can use the blade to attempt to pry them open as well, though I’d be careful not to put too much pressure on them, as you could potentially snap the metal by using them that way.”

Himiko nodded silently, trying to internalize all the different ways he said her blades could be used.

“…I can see you’re still a little about this, so I’ll give you some time to think on it,” Aizawa announced, his voice almost seeming to… soften? No, it must be my imagination, Himiko decided, staring at his usual deadpan face. “I’ll also bring this up to All Might, so he knows of your situation. But just know — out of everyone in this school, I’m probably the most experienced in combat with knives. So… if you ever decide you want to learn, just know that I’m here. I am your homeroom teacher, after all.”

“…Thank you, Mister Aizawa,” Himiko breathed, and he nodded.

“You’re welcome. Now — get out of here. You still have the rest of your classes for today, and I’m sure you’ll want to see Midoriya when he gets out of the nurse’s office,” Aizawa declared, using one hand to shoo Himiko out of his classroom.

“Y-yes! Of course!” Himiko replied, running out of the room and only turning back one last time to gaze at him, before finally turning around and leaving for real.

Chapter Text

Himiko ducked underneath a swipe from Dark Shadow, letting out a soft curse as the sentient Quirk swiftly pivoted, smashing the side of its long, extending body into her and sending her sprawling.

It was only a few more days until the UA Sports Festival, and Class 1-A was training harder than ever.

For most people, this meant working with their Quirk — Himiko had spotted Bakugo firing off his explosions, Ochako, Mina, and Aoyama had all been working together to use Zero Gravity for some target practice, and of course Himiko knew all about Momo’s studies to use Creation faster, focusing on a few different objects she thought would come in handy.

But, as biting your classmates during the festival was strictly prohibited (Himiko checked) and none of the people with stronger physiques really wanted to help give her a leg up for this specific trial, she could only focus on her own body, jumping and spinning and ducking underneath all of Dark Shadow’s attacks.

“You must first learn to embody the darkness before fighting against it!” Tokoyami announced dramatically, Himiko unsure whether he was speaking to her or his Quirk. “Merge with the shadows, make its will your own, and unleash its power upon all who dare to oppose you!!!”

“Okay, dude,” Himiko grumbled, picking herself back up off the floor. She was getting pretty used to his inane ramblings by now.

“You say it’s okay, that the mockery of our classmates does not upset you, but the only one you are fooling is yourself,” Tokoyami declared, clenching a fist and bowing his head as Dark Shadow continued chasing Himiko across the stage of Ground Gamma. “You have let the darkness plant its seeds in your subconscious, but now you must let them sprout! Grow into a rioting jungle of fury and hatred as you DEVOUR YOUR ENEMIES WHOLE!!!!!”

Himiko blinked.

Did that last bit… kind of make sense?

Dark Shadow crashed into the building above her head, and Himiko yelped, scrambling to avoid the debris from its rampage.

“Sorry! Are you okay?” Dark Shadow questioned worriedly, pulling its claws into its chest, and Himiko nodded, shooting the Quirk a quick thumbs-up.

“You have roots of darkness in your past, little leopard,” Leopard????? Himiko glanced over at Tokoyami as he continued monologuing, Dark Shadow only a few paces behind her as they resumed their training. “Yet you continuously rebuke them, pushing back with this false light you have created.”

“Um… I think you’re taking this a little too seriously,” Himiko informed him, attempting a feint and receiving a shadowy claw to the face for the effort.

“But we are both creatures of darkness, you and I,” Tokoyami continued, ignoring her interruption. “Our souls have been woven from the same cloth, and I can see in your eyes how much you yearn to return to the place you once called home. Come, join me, fellow servant of the dark, and we can unleash its unending fury upon the world… together.”

Himiko squinted at Tokoyami, trying to determine whether the hand he was holding out was literal, or just supposed to be a metaphor to help accentuate his words.

Oh, wait, that’s actually a much better idea than just getting beat up by Dark Shadow for another several hours, Himiko realized, skidding to a halt.

She quickly spun around, surprising Dark Shadow at her sudden change in direction, and tackled Tokoyami to the ground.

“I have decided… I need a time out!” Himiko declared as Tokoyami stared up at her, sprawled out across the ground. “We’ve been doing this for too long and I’m tired!!! I demand a break!”

Tokoyami quickly schooled his expression as Himiko clambered back off of him, nodding sagely with a, “We must allow our energies the chance to recharge, lest the darkness grow too mighty for our feeble mortal bodies to contain.”

Himiko just patted him on the head.

Tokoyami fetched the pair of them some water bottles, and Dark Shadow grabbed a container of strawberry-flavored yogurt, curling up around Tokoyami’s neck like a particularly shadowy scarf to eat it.

Himiko leaned back on one arm, sweating profusely and panting heavily in stark contrast to her relatively unbothered sparring partners, taking large gulps from her water bottle.

“…Were you talking to me or Dark Shadow?” Himiko finally questioned after a moment, staring up at the expansive blue sky above them. “It’s… kinda hard to tell sometimes.”

“The darkness of the shadows calls out to all,” he replied seriously, which cleared up approximately nothing.

“Ooookay.” Himiko placed her water bottle on the concrete floor of Ground Gamma, thinking. “…Did you mean what you said? All that stuff about… uh, letting the darkness consume you, and being sheared from the same cloth and stuff?”

Tokoyami frowned, staring off melodramatically into the distance.

“One should not let the darkness consume you, young friend,” Tokoyami declared, and Himiko had to stop the grin that was threatening to break out across her face at being called his friend, despite being incorrectly labeled as younger than him. “You may harness it, bask in its comforting aura, but never let it fully submerge your conscious, lest you find you’ve taken actions that will forever haunt you the rest of your mortal days.”

Himiko tilted her head at him curiously. “Have you ever taken actions you’ve regretted?”

Tokoyami didn’t respond.

Himiko hummed, falling back onto the concrete to continue gazing up at the clouds.

“…I’m older than you,” she pointed out.

“We are all young when it comes to the universe’s grand, cosmic power,” he replied, and Himiko chuckled.

“…You also said something about me being a leopard,” Himiko added after a moment. “I think. Unless you were talking to Dark Shadow.”

“Your heart beats with the silent strength of those fearsome jungle predators,” Tokoyami nodded seriously. “Creatures of grace and danger. You are agile, unpredictable, and not afraid to leap when you see an opening — watching your first hunt was truly an honor. For, even when charging headlong into danger, you allowed your teammate to circle your prey, trusting young Uraraka to adapt to your bold strategy.”

There was a pause as Himiko stared at him, weirdly flattered by his strange poetry, before he added a moment later, “Also, your eyes remind me of those of a cat.”

Himiko burst out laughing, clutching her stomach as Dark Shadow untangled himself from Tokoyami, carefully floating over to Himiko with light pink smudges staining the area around its beak.

“Are you okay?” it whispered, lightly nudging her arm.

Himiko patted its head reassuringly, a massive grin spread across her features. “So, silent predator, huh?”

“Yes. Leopards are that shadowy presence hidden in the trees, waiting, watching their prey before they strike. No roar to announce their presence… they simply act.”

Himiko hummed, falling silent as his statement finally sunk in.

“…Maybe I should do that, too,” she whispered.

“Become the shadow,” Tokoyami nodded sagely. “When you learn to live in the darkness, you become part of the silence.”

“Oh, so, not you, then?” Himiko questioned innocently, and Tokoyami shot her an offended look, making her grin. “Whaaaaat~? I thought you just said shadows were quiet — and monologuing during the entirety of our fight doesn’t exactly scream ‘quiet’ to me.”

“…Were you not moved by the eloquence of my proclamations?” Tokoyami asked softly, sounding almost hurt, and Himiko patted his arm.

“Yes. Your… uh, ‘proclamations’ were very moving,” Himiko reassured. “Though I was mostly worried about not getting punched in the face.”

“That was me!” Dark Shadow announced cheerfully, shooting up with what Himiko could only describe to be a delighted grin, despite the complete lack of teeth or even a mouth at all on the shadow creature. “I was the one who punched her in the face!”

Himiko stepped out from the shade of the stadium entrance, listening to Present Mic’s introductory speech and clutching onto Momo’s hand as if she would disappear if she didn’t.

There were so many people.

Logically, Himiko knew she was going to be watched — UA’s Sports Festival was the number-one watched event in the whole country, if not the entire world, so obviously there was going to be people there to see it.

But it was one thing to know there was going to be lots of people there, and another to actually experience it.

“It’s going to be alright,” Momo soothed, trying to smile, wave, and comfort Himiko all at the same time. “This is good practice for you — you always tried to hide yourself away during all of our house parties, so you haven’t gotten to learn the intricacies of how to work a crowd like I have.”

And why do you think that was? Himiko questioned internally, but didn’t say anything, simply holding tighter to Momo’s hand.

The chief umpire for the first years — Miss Midnight — called Bakugo to the stand to deliver the preliminary speech, and Himiko wasn’t surprised in the slightest when all he said was “I’m gonna win.”

Sure, it was annoying for him to paint a target on all their backs like that, but he had already done so when the other classes cornered 1-A that one time two weeks ago, so really, all this was doing was pouring a canister of gasoline on an already raging forest fire.

A screen at the top of the stadium switched from a bright yellow “Player Declaration” into a slightly more orange “First Game,” and Midnight raised the microphone back up to her face.

“Without further ado, it’s time for us to get started!” she announced, whipping her flogger whip through the air as a large projection appeared behind her. “This is where you begin feeling the pain! The first fateful game of the festival, what could it be?”

The label that spun into place behind her was simple: Obstacle Race.

“Ta-daaaah!!!” Midnight declared, and all around Himiko, a few of her classmates started muttering about the race. “All eleven classes will participate in this treacherous contest. The track is four kilometers around the outside of the stadium. I don’t wanna restrain anyone, at least in this game — so, as long as you don’t leave the course, you’re free to do whatever your heart desires!”

…Whatever your heart desires?

Himiko remembered Aizawa’s tired expression as she nervously approached him with questions about her blood intake during the festival.

“Don’t bite anyone,” she remembered him saying. “We don’t want to have to deal with a lawsuit, so you’ll have to find some other way to get your blood. Ask your classmates, okay?”

And none of her classmates were willing to risk her wearing their face and potentially screwing up their chances at fortune and glory.

So, no, Himiko could very much NOT do whatever her heart desired.

“Now then, take your places, contestants,” Miss Midnight declared, and Himiko shifted on her feet.

This whole thing is going to go HORRIBLY for me, isn’t it?

Momo calmly lead Himiko to the gate along with all the rest of the other racers, gently rubbing her shoulder and leaning in to whisper in her ear.

“I’m sorry I can’t help you more,” she murmured softly. “But… I need to win this.”

“We all do,” Himiko replied, trying not to let show how her heart was sinking at Momo’s words.

We all need to win this thing.

No help from Momo, no help from Ochako…

No help from Mina or Kyoka or Tokoyami or any of the other friends I’ve made in Class 1-A so far.

Just me.

Me, without any usage of my Quirk and no blood to speak of.

…But I’m still supposed to win anyways.

Himiko glanced up and around at the throng of students surrounding her, realization dawning.

But winning isn’t coming out on top.

Winning is standing out.

“Begin!”

Himiko almost didn’t realize that the three green lights atop the gate had gone out, that sharp cry from Miss Midnight and the guiding force from the crowd around her the only thing that shook Himiko out of her own thoughts, darting forwards with the mob and towards the very crammed doorway.

An elbow struck Himiko in the side of the head, another stabbed her in the gut, and Himiko couldn’t help but be reminded of that panicked mob from all those weeks ago when the press managed to break into UA.

What did Iida do? Get above everyone else, using a combination of Ochako’s Zero Gravity and his Engine Quirk to get up to the top of the door.

She didn’t have Zero Gravity on her side, but she did have her own athleticism.

I am the jaguar. I mean— the leopard, Himiko told herself, grabbing onto the shoulders of the nearest student and hoisting herself up, much to their protests.

“HEY! What are you doing, circus freak?!” he questioned, followed by about seventeen more as Himiko jumped from shoulder to head to shoulder to obnoxiously large bat Quirk.

“Better circus freak than anything worse!” Himiko chirped, mostly just to herself as she was already way past the initial kid that called her the name.

And then she almost face-planted directly into the back of someone else’s head as a wave of icy cold engulfed the tunnel.

Himiko attempted to balance herself with the wall as her feet awkwardly shifted atop the (thankfully very sturdy) shoulders she had found herself atop of, blinking in surprise as she saw one kid dart ahead of all the others, white and red hair billowing in the wind.

Todoroki.

Infinity kid.

And then he was promptly followed by four people who definitely weren’t infinity kids, including both Momo and Bakugo, as well as Kirishima and that one kid Himiko struggled remembering the name of but knew he had trained with Ochako that one time.

Oh, right, Aoyama.

He shot a laser from his belly button to avoid the ice, Kirishima breaking out of it with his Hardening, Bakugo blasting his way to safety, and Momo shooting out a long metal pole to give herself the upper edge.

“Nice trick, Todoroki!” Himiko heard Momo bite out, quickly followed by Bakugo’s incomprehensible string of incredibly loud insults.

“Those 1-A kids!” the guy underneath Himiko bit out. “Unable to think of anyone but themselves!”

“Aw, we’re not that bad,” Himiko purred, leaning down to pat his head, and just grinned as he shot her a fierce glare.

She quickly joined the rest of 1-A outside the tunnel, watching them slip-and-slide along the ice like a bunch of toddlers let out onto the rink for the first time, continuing to jump atop heads for as long as she could before eventually having to pause — not because she had run out, but because she had ended up landing on Ochako.

“Wh— Himiko?!?!????” Ochako questioned, arms pinwheeling at her sides as she struggled to keep her balance before glancing up at the girl suddenly wrapped around her shoulders and part of her back. “What are you doing?”

“What you’re doing here is the real question,” Himiko hummed back. “Why aren’t you using Zero Gravity to move faster?”

“Because then I’ll float into space and be unable to finish the competition???”

“C’mon,” Himiko placed her hand into Ochako’s. “Give me Zero Gravity, and I’ll show you how to really move.”

Ochako stared at her warily.

“…You know that’ll probably get us both killed,” she pointed out. “And… if I’m floating both of us, I’ll definitely get sick.”

“Just for a little bit, I promise,” Himiko replied sincerely, looking Ochako directly in the eyes and playing with the tips of her finger-pads. “Only until we get past the ice.”

Ochako hesitated a moment longer, and Himiko knew she won when the other girl let out a sigh.

“Fine, Himiko — show me how it’s done.”

A large grin spread across her face, and her hair started floating around her face.

…Aaaand then she nearly got knocked into space anyways as a loud crash sounded from up ahead, the shock wave ripping at Himiko’s hair and causing Ochako to cling tightly to her hand.

“…You still want Zero Gravity?” Ochako checked, glancing back towards the site of the crash.

“Yep, definitely,” Himiko decided, using Ochako’s form to lower her feet back onto the ground and steady herself. “Can you make yourself Zero Gravity, too? …Wait, can you only release one thing at a time, or do you have to release everything at once?”

“Everything at once.”

“…Crap.”

So, Himiko adjusted.

Now Ochako was the one that was weightless, and Himiko darting across the ice towards the crowd that had already passed them by.

“I don’t see what dragging me along in Zero Gravity will do to better your chances,” Ochako admitted, clutching Himiko’s arm in one hand and covering her mouth with the other, looking a little green.

“Oh, really? Then maybe I’ll show you!” Himiko chirped, adding a quick, “Sorry about this, Chako,” before flinging the girl over the heads of all the other kids in the crowd.

Ochako shrieked, spinning wildly out of control, and then Himiko was following after her, jumping onto her leg and tugging her back to earth, using their dual momentum to clear several heads and finally spotting the giant zero-pointer from the exam it looked like Todoroki had downed, several iced-over bits of metal scattered over the ground.

Himiko let out an impressed whistle, and then jumped when a loud explosion rocketed out, then several more times as the other zero-pointers standing in a line in front of them all went crashing down as well.

Himiko whipped her head around, and then let a large grin spread out across her face as she spotted Momo standing next to a large cannon, side glimmering faintly as her gym uniform was half-haphazardly tossed open.

“That’s my sister!” Himiko cheered, before flinging Ochako forwards once again and using the other girl’s weightless body to climb her way over the robots.

They climbed up the side of the green metal effortlessly, Ochako looking closer and closer to puking the further they climbed, before Himiko finally tossed her one last time — using her as a sort of makeshift parachute to take advantage of the height gained by going on top of the robots instead of around.

“WHEEEEEEEE!!!!!!” Himiko grinned, clutching to Ochako’s leg as Ochako scrabbled for a grasp on Himiko — hair, jacket, shoulder, whatever.

“Himiko I’m gonna barf,” she announced, and Himiko hummed.

“Just ‘til the ground, Chako,” she promised, Ochako’s grip on her only tightening.

Himiko was already moving as soon as her feet touched the ground, sprinting past everyone else as she attempted to maneuver Ochako just that last little bit, swapping their positions from before and tucking Ochako up against her back.

“I’ll carry you!” she promised, and Ochako let out a relieved sigh, placing her finger pads together and making Himiko stumble a little bit with the sudden weight.

Okay, so no more sprinting, she noted, the panting of Ochako’s hot breath against her ear doing way too many things to her stomach, even as she tried to ignore them.

…Sssso, it turned out Himiko’s plan to get them to the front was having some… drawbacks.

Ochako was actually really heavy, and lugging her around like this — without the help of Zero Gravity — was actually starting to weigh on Himiko more than she’d like to admit.

But she couldn’t exactly leave her, so Himiko was forced to a halt along with all the others as they got to the next obstacle: a giant freaking pit.

Himiko stared at the few pieces of ground still left over from whatever monster had decided to hollow out the earth in this spot, only a few thin wires acting as the connection points between each pillar of dirt.

“…Chako?” Himiko questioned softly. “Now would be a… really great time for you to miraculously recover.”

“Just give me a few more seconds,” Ochako grumbled, thankfully sounding like it would only take her a little longer to be able to stand on her own once again.

But not soon enough, as one of the other girls in their group leaped ahead of the others — quite literally, as Asui used her frog Quirk to jump into the middle of one of the wires, climbing across the rest of the way pretty quickly.

“She’s fast,” Mina commented, and Himiko jerked her head around, not having realized she had come to a stop beside her bright pink classmate.

“Yeah…” Himiko’s hands tightened on Ochako’s legs, trying not to give in to the wave of jealousy washing over her.

Thankfully, a distraction came very quickly in the way of one of the other competitors behind them letting out a impish chuckle.

“Yes. Finally,” declared a girl with thick pink hair and red goggles over her eyes. “This is my chance to show off what I can do. My support items are gonna steal the spotlight from these wannabe heroes.”

Himiko stared at the other girl as she cackled to herself, sounding more like she was trying to be a villain than a hero — though, it didn’t sound as if she were going to UA for the hero course, either.

“EVERYONE!!!!!” the girl suddenly declared, voice surprisingly loud. “Observe what my brilliant gadgets can do. Wire arrows and… hover soles!”

“You’re in support,” Himiko realized, and Mina pointed at all the gadgets littering the unknown girl’s body.

“Hey! How come you got to bring all that stuff?” she questioned.

“Students in the hero course get all kinds of combat training for their Quirks,” the girl explained, placing her hands on her metal-lined hips. “In order to keep things fair and give us a fighting chance, we’re allowed to bring whatever gadgets and costumes we want into the games, so long as we developed them ourselves,” suddenly, pink-haired girl threw out both of her arms, a grappling hook-looking thing shooting out from the belt around her waist. “So sit back and enjoy the show!”