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The first time she sees her, it's in the middle of the night, and it happens so quickly that Tsuyu assumes it to be a trick of the light.
She's stumbling to her bathroom, eyes barely open, and too lazy to turn on the light. Once she's done doing her business, she heads to the sink to wash her hands, all her movements slow and sluggish. It's when she's shaking the excess water off her hands that she looks up into the mirror and sees—
Tsuyu's heart stops. A rush of panic fills her as her tongue flies out, slamming into the mirror. The hit isn't strong enough to break the mirror entirely, but it's enough to cause a large, wonky crack through its expanse, messing up her reflection.
She freezes when she realises what she just did, stepping back. Her tongue doesn't hurt, but the noise was loud enough that she must've awoken some people. She hopes not, though.
Tsuyu blinks again, eyes searching the mirror, but the phantom she thought she saw is gone.
It must be her drowsiness getting to her. Trying to shake the odd illusion from her mind, Tsuyu heads back to bed and tucks herself back in as fast as she can. Her heart calms the moment she's under the blankets, and everything's fine. Everything's normal.
Still, as she closes her eyes and tries to fall back asleep, Tsuyu finds that she can't erase the image of piercing gold eyes and a sharp, fanged smile staring at her through the mirror.
"Tsuyu-chan, you look tired," Mina comments the next day when the girls are all sitting in the common room, doing a puzzle piece together. "Didn't sleep well?"
Tsuyu looks up. The rest of the girls are giving her matching concerned looks. Mina's words aren't laced with anything negative, but it still makes Tsuyu feel a little defensive. "I'm fine," she answers, piecing another two puzzle pieces together. "I just—"
Just what? Had a nightmare? Tsuyu wishes it was just that.
"—slept late," is what she settles on. She doesn't like lying to her friends, but this situation she has isn't one that can be explained with words.
Just then, Tsuyu's eyes land on Ochako. The eyebags she's sporting are as dark as always, though that's become a common sight ever since the war ended. Everyone in the class hasn't been sleeping well, really, and oftentimes, Tsuyu will find at least one person down here in the common room in the middle of the night, drinking tea or just staring into space.
Ochako meets her gaze, curiosity in her eyes, and Tsuyu has to look away before she spills everything out. She doesn't like lying to her friends, and she's particularly bad at keeping secrets from Ochako. They share everything with each other.
(Except recently, Tsuyu feels like Ochako has been hiding something from her too. But she hasn't pushed yet. She believes Ochako will share whatever's bothering her when she's ready.)
"O-kay," Mina replies slowly. The concern in her eyes doesn't waver, but she doesn't call Tsuyu out for her fib either way.
The topic is dropped, and as they continue working on the puzzle together, Tsuyu pretends not to feel the thick tension between them all.
"Tsuyu-chan."
The voice is soft, barely even audible, but Tsuyu hears it. She's on the cusp of falling asleep when the voice whispers into her ear, leaving behind a puff of air. Her eyes fly open and she sits up with a strangled gasp, looking around.
There's no one there. Which makes sense, because Tsuyu obviously sleeps alone, but—
"Tsuyu-chan, I love you."
The hair on her skin stands. Tsuyu shoves the blanket off of her, letting it pool messily at the foot of her bed, and gets up. There's something wrong.
She slides on a fluffy pair of frog slippers—a Christmas gift from Tooru last year—and tugs open her door with more force than necessary. As Tsuyu makes her way down the elevator and towards the common room, her head whirls, trying to make sense of what she heard.
It must be her subconscious playing tricks on her. She knows that sickly sweet voice, but the owner of it has been dead for months now.
Yeah. Tsuyu has just been thinking about it for so long that it's slipped into her dreams. But it's not real. There's nothing to worry about.
When she finally makes it down, she spots someone already sitting in the common room. The lights aren't on except for a little lamp on one of the side tables.
Ochako turns her head, surprise coating her features when she sees Tsuyu. She's holding a mug, and a steaming pot of tea rests on the centre of the coffee table. A smile graces her tired features as she beckons Tsuyu over.
"Hi," Ochako greets when Tsuyu goes to sit beside her. "Tea?"
"Yes, please," Tsuyu murmurs, taking the offered mug. She brings it to her lips and the liquid scalds her tongue, but she pays it no mind. "Couldn't sleep?"
Ochako hums. It's not much of a response, but Tsuyu doesn't need more than that.
They sit in silence for a bit, leaning against each other. Normally, Tsuyu likes the quiet—it's a blessing after the endless chaos and noise that the war brought along.
But right now, the quiet is haunting. The mysterious voice echoes in her head over and over, and it's driving Tsuyu crazy.
"Tsuyu-chan," Ochako calls, and she nearly jumps out of her seat. "Can I tell you something?"
Oh, shit. Tsuyu sets the mug down, turning to face Ochako better. Okay. This isn't the time for Tsuyu to get caught up in her own head about things that aren't real. She'll put that aside and focus on whatever it is Ochako has to say.
"Of course," Tsuyu replies, keeping her tone even despite her racing heart. "What is it?"
Ochako isn't looking at her, but rather, her eyes are trained on her criss-crossed lap, where her hands are clasped together. Her hair is long enough to shield her face when it falls over her shoulder—she still hasn't cut it, despite saying that she wants to for a long while now.
"I dream of her a lot," Ochako whispers, like she was confessing a damning sin. "It keeps me up at night."
Tsuyu's lips part, but no sound leaves her throat.
"I dream about her last smile, or her last words to me, or her tears," Ochako lists. Her voice shakes, and Tsuyu reaches out to hold her hand. "Sometimes, I even dream about a world where she takes over my body and lives as me. I can't look in the mirror anymore without seeing her—"
Tsuyu tenses. Has Ochako been going through the same thing she has?
"—but even when I call for her, she's never there." Her breath hitches. "Tsuyu-chan, I find myself wishing she was alive, even after everything she's done. I don't know how to stop it."
Tsuyu doesn't know what to say, so she just makes a little hum of acknowledgement. She won't pretend to understand what Ochako is going through—their feelings for the same person are vastly different, and Tsuyu thinks that Ochako is kinder than her in that regard.
Ochako leans her head back on the couch, staring up at the ceiling, and Tsuyu takes a look at her again. The hollowness under her eyes and the way her gaze has become permanently downcast, even when she's smiling. Ochako isn't Ochako anymore, and it hurts Tsuyu's heart to see.
"Is it wrong," Ochako whispers, "to kind of miss her?"
"I don't think you miss her," Tsuyu bites out before she can stop herself. Ochako turns to her in surprise. "I… I think you're just grieving. You didn't like her in the first place, but you feel guilty for being alive in her place. That's why she's haunting your dreams."
"I-I don't know if it's that simple."
"You don't like her," Tsuyu repeats, with a little more conviction this time. She says it like she needs it to be true, and maybe, deep down inside of her, she does. "She was a villain, and she chose her own fate—to die as one. There was nothing you could've done to stop it."
Ochako's eyes well up with tears. Tsuyu panics briefly, wondering if she said the wrong thing, but then Ochako is wrapping her arms around Tsuyu's body, burying her tears into her shoulder. "Okay," she says, a little muffled, as Tsuyu circles her arms around her back. "Thank you, Tsuyu-chan."
"Of course," Tsuyu replies quietly. Her heart still feels uneasy, and she turns her head when she feels a pair of eyes on them, watching. But once again, no one is there. "Anytime, Ochako-chan."
"Tsuyu-chan, you're so cruel."
In the quiet of the night, laying on the couch with Ochako curled up next to her, Tsuyu keeps her eyes closed and pretends not to hear her.
It's hard to return to any semblance of normalcy when half of you have almost died and almost all are permanently scarred from battle, but Class A does their best to make it work anyway.
This evening, they're having hotpot among other foods for dinner, and warm laughter and chatter can be heard all throughout the dorm. Tsuyu sits in between Kaminari and Tokoyami, savouring some salty fishcakes and listening to Kaminari recount his shopping trip with Jirou, where they apparently almost got chased out of the mall. There's a soft glow in Tsuyu's heart as she remains with her friends, and she clings onto that little light almost desperately.
It's supposed to be a smoothsailing, peaceful night. It's everything Tsuyu needed to get rid of the queasy uneasiness she's been harbouring and building up, to remind her that what's most important is right here, in front of her—her friends, all safe and happy, acting like the dumb teenagers that they are. It's comforting to know that they can still laugh together this way and work towards their original goal of being heroes.
So when Tsuyu chances a glance at the corner of the room and sees her again, she almost drops her bowl in shock.
Again, she disappears as soon as she comes, barely giving Tsuyu more than a second to take a good look. It makes her feel like she's seeing things, but this isn't the first time, and the lights are all on.
She turns her head, no longer listening to Kaminari's story as she searches the room. The more she looks, the more she sees her—flashes of golden eyes and a terrifying smile, of blonde space buns and a glinting knife.
"Tsuyu-chan, what're you looking at?" Kaminari asks, snapping her out of her stupor. "Whoa. You look like you just saw a ghost."
Hah. Tsuyu would laugh at the absurdity of that statement if that wasn't exactly what she's going through.
She shakes her head, setting her bowl down and standing up. "I just remembered that I, um, left something in my room. I'll be right back."
"What is it?" Tokoyami asks, but Tsuyu ignores his question in favour of rushing out of the common room, towards the elevator, and riding up to the fifth floor.
By the time she makes it back into her dorm, she's panting like she just ran a marathon. She barges into her bathroom, towards the sink, and slams her hands on the countertop as she glares straight into the mirror she's yet to replace.
Her skin is pale and her fingers are shaking from where they dig into the marble. She hadn't bothered to turn the lights on when she came in, so everything is dark, and this moment feels particularly reminiscent of the first time she accidentally caught a glimpse of her.
Tsuyu grits her teeth. "I know you're there," she hisses, her heart pounding erratically in her chest. "Show yourself."
For a moment, nothing happens, and Tsuyu thinks she's really gone insane, to the point where she's making up visions in her head. But then a piercing giggle slices through her ears and she tenses, watching as a familiar face comes into view, grinning at her through the reflection of her broken mirror.
"Tsuyu-chan, you finally stopped pretending you can't see me!" she coos, hands rising up to her cheeks. "I'm so happy!"
Her voice rings loud and clear this time. Tsuyu's blood runs cold.
"Toga Himiko," she whispers. She doesn't think she can feel her hands anymore. "Why are you here?"
When Tsuyu takes a closer look, she sees that Toga isn't exactly here. Not in the corporeal sense, anyway. Toga Himiko stands behind her, with the same savage smile and sailor uniform she's always wearing, but her entire being flickers in and out of sight. Even the edges of her clothes are wispy, like she's coated in a translucent paint that lets Tsuyu see right through her.
"You're a ghost," she realises. "How?"
Tsuyu isn't one to believe in the supernatural. With the existence of Quirks, almost anything and everything can be attributed to someone's power going haywire, plus illusion-based Quirks are pretty common nowadays. Someone could easily be playing an elaborate prank on Tsuyu.
But she knows this isn't the case. Toga's ghost is standing behind her, as real as ghosts can get, and Tsuyu remains rooted to the spot, horrified.
"Don't look at me like that, Tsuyu-chan," Toga says, tilting her head. One of her space buns is falling loose, blonde strands trickling down her round cheeks. "It's not pretty. I don't like it."
"What are you doing here?" Tsuyu repeats, sharper this time.
It's been a slow process, but everyone is trying to move on from the war. They cry sometimes, and they can't sleep, but they're aiding in reparation efforts and aiming to start school again by next month. Tsuyu doesn't have time to play games with a villain defeated long ago.
"I don't know!" Toga answers, and it irks Tsuyu to no end. "I thought that when I died, I wouldn't return to this world anymore. I hoped that I'd be able to see Touya-kun, or Tomura-kun, or even Jin-kun! But instead…"
Toga doesn't walk closer, but Tsuyu stiffens up like she does anyway. She still doesn't dare turn around, only watching Toga through the mirror, as if that could somehow place more distance between them.
"I wandered around for months until I found this place," Toga tells her. She brings a finger up to twirl around a piece of her hair. "And I realised that you're the only one able to see me, Tsuyu-chan. Why do you suppose that is?"
"I told you not to call me that," Tsuyu mutters. "And I don't have an answer for you. Leave me alone."
"Oh, but you're the only one who I can talk to! It gets so lonely just watching everyone. Say, how is Ochako-chan? Or Izuku-kun? I've been watching them, but they never respond when I wave. It makes me feel so sad."
She takes a deep breath. She's not about to entertain a ghost's musings. Tsuyu doesn't know much about the supernatural, but she knows that acknowledging the spirits is her first mistake. She needs to put an end to this weird connection between them as soon as possible.
It also doesn't make sense to her that she's the only one able to see Toga. She expects this kind of thing to happen to Ochako—not that she'd wish this upon her, but Ochako and Toga shared a connection much deeper and more heartfelt than her and Toga. Instead, the one who wants nothing to do with this is stuck dealing with it.
"I don't know why your spirit hasn't moved on, Toga Himiko," Tsuyu says through stilted breaths, "but I want nothing to do with it. I know Ochako-chan saw more to you, but I didn't, and I won't ever forgive you for the pain you've caused her. I don't like you."
She lets go of the sink, making her way to the door and praying that Toga doesn't follow her. She already can't shake the feeling that there are always a pair of eyes watching her, but now that she knows it to be true, it makes everything so much worse.
Right before she leaves the bathroom, she hears Toga call, "Oh, but Tsuyu-chan, I love you."
Tsuyu tries her best to be reasonable and sensible at all times.
She doesn't know Toga's story, and if it's one thing the war has taught her, it's that villains and heroes are two sides of the same coin. She also knows Ochako, who may be kind-hearted, but not naive enough to trust and care for someone who isn't worth caring for.
So Tsuyu acknowledges that Toga isn't entirely the sadistic, blood-hungry monster she originally thought she was. But that doesn't mean that Tsuyu will shed tears and see her in an entirely different light either.
At the end of the day, Toga was a villain. She may have shown something more humane underneath at her demise, but her sacrifice for Ochako isn't that noble when Tsuyu remembers that she's the one who nearly killed her in the first place.
They're all things that Tsuyu has never mentioned to Ochako, though, because Ochako always looks so heartbroken at the mere thought of Toga and her death. It wouldn't be fair for Tsuyu to pile all her resentment for the former villain onto her, just because she has her spirit following her around now.
(Tsuyu wonders how many of their conversations Toga has overheard. Does she know that Ochako still dreams about her? Does it make her regret her sacrifice, if all it brought Ochako was a lifetime of torture?)
Either way, she can never understand Toga the way Ochako did. So—
"Why won't you tell Ochako-chan about me?" Toga asks, her ghost floating by the foot of Tsuyu's bed, staring at her with wide eyes and a pout. To some, it may look childish, but Tsuyu's heart leaps to her throat like she's being threatened instead. "I love Ochako-chan a lot. I know she misses me, and I want to talk to her."
"No," Tsuyu denies from where she's pressed against the headboard, her knees tucked to her chest, like she's trying to slice a chasm of distance between them. Like that would somehow get Toga to go away. "She's struggling enough as it is. Knowing that your spirit is still here, and that you didn't get to rest properly, will do her more hurt than good."
Toga hums. Tsuyu is exhausted, her eyelids feeling like a ton of bricks and fighting to stay open, but she can't sleep peacefully even if she wanted to. Not when Toga is here, disturbing her.
"Hm…" Toga smiles, lips stretched wide and thin. "You love Ochako-chan a lot too, don't you?"
A harsh breath leaves Tsuyu's mouth. Not for the first time, she wonders why she's the only one able to see and talk to Toga.
"Of course I care for her," Tsuyu bites out with a nasty glare. "She's my best friend."
Instead of taking her glare seriously, Toga squeals, clapping her hands. "She's my best friend too! I want to talk to her forever and ever and ever."
Suddenly, Toga crawls over, her hands reaching for Tsuyu's body. It's odd, watching Toga roll onto her bed, yet not a single indent appears on her mattress. When Toga's hand swipes at her ankles, she doesn't feel anything either, but it still makes her shriek into her palm, flinching violently.
Toga just coos at her reaction. She rolls onto her back, looking up at Tsuyu through her bangs with an inquisitive smile. "You're so protective of Ochako-chan, Tsuyu-chan. Do you love her too?"
Tsuyu frowns. "I already told you—"
"Do you love her like I do?" Toga clarifies, and she grins as Tsuyu's breath hitches. "Is that why you hate me so much?"
"I-I don't—"
Toga flips onto her stomach, propping her elbows up on the mattress and resting her chin on her hands. Tsuyu doesn't think ghosts can blush, but Toga's cheeks grow a shade darker, and a dreamy look fills her eyes. "She's just so cute, isn't she? It's okay, Tsuyu-chan! You're really cute as well. I'm sure Ochako-chan loves you just as much."
"I'm not jealous of you, if that's what you're insinuating," Tsuyu says, but her heart is thundering in her chest.
How dare Toga imply that they're the same? That whatever they feel for Ochako could be compared?
"That's not what I'm saying," Toga assures, though Tsuyu finds it hard to believe her. "I just can't help but notice… We both love Ochako-chan, and Ochako-chan loves the both of us. And I love you, Tsuyu-chan!"
She shudders. "You don't."
"I do, I do!"
She wonders how Toga can say things with such certainty, like her love is an inexplicable truth that they all have to accept. In a way, it's admirable, but the extent of Tsuyu's admiration stops when she remembers what Toga’s love looks like.
"But you don't love me back." Toga's voice drops from its usual cheerful, sweet tone, and Tsuyu tenses up even if she knows Toga can't physically hurt her. "Tsuyu-chan, why don't you love me? Am I weird? Am I scary?"
Tsuyu swallows down a lump in her throat. "Because you made Ochako-chan cry. That's all."
"Really?" Toga sits up, leaning back on her ankles. Her spirit wavers. "I don't think that's it. Tsuyu-chan, you're a liar."
Her blood turns to ice.
"Maybe that's why you're the only one who can see and hear me. You don't love me. I'm stuck here because my spirit won't rest in peace, right? It means we have some unfinished business." Toga breaks out into another smile, and it sends chills down Tsuyu's spine. "Ochako-chan was the only one who would accept my love. But you, Tsuyu-chan, you look at me the way everyone else did when I was alive."
Tsuyu grits her teeth. "So what?"
"Let me talk to Ochako-chan," Toga requests. Her voice is dead serious, drained of its dreamy quality. Tsuyu hates that she seems real like this.
"No," she snaps, the mere idea making dread pool in her stomach. "She won't be able to handle it. She's been moving on from you as best as she can, and I'm not about to ruin her progress."
"That's not fair," Toga murmurs. "But I guess I can't force you."
Just like that, Toga disappears. Tsuyu panics, looking around and wondering if she's going to jump out from the walls, a knife in her hand or blood dripping past her lips or something. But five minutes pass, and there's not a peep from the ghost that haunts her.
Despite being granted solitude again, Tsuyu barely gets any sleep that night either.
Tsuyu’s eyes snap open when someone knocks on her door, calling out, “Tsuyu-chan, are you in there?”
Tsuyu sits up, looking around blearily. She doesn’t know what time it is, but judging by the bright sunlight seeping in from her balcony, she’s been asleep way longer than she was supposed to. “Yeah?” she croaks.
The door opens, and in walks Ochako. She breaks out into a relieved smile when she sees Tsuyu, trotting over. “You don’t usually sleep in so late! I was worried. Lunch is almost ready, if you’d like to come join us.”
“Oh. Got it.”
Her voice must lack something, because Ochako frowns, dropping herself on the edge of Tsuyu’s bed. “Hey,” she says softly, “everything okay?”
“Just struggling to sleep recently,” Tsuyu replies. It’s not exactly a lie. “I didn’t mean to worry you.”
Ochako hums. Her fingers pinch the rumpled bedsheets a little, fiddling, before she says, “You know you can tell me anything, right?”
Her breath hitches.
“I know,” she promises, and the lie tastes like copper on her tongue. “I will.”
“Okay. Let’s go have lunch.” She holds her hand out, and Tsuyu takes it with a kind of guilt that eats her alive.
Tsuyu knows herself. She’ll spill eventually, when she can’t look at Ochako anymore without hearing Toga’s voice echoing in her head, or when she can’t bear the weight of her own secret. She’s always been weak when it comes to keeping things from her friends, but especially when it comes to Ochako.
Even now, she can hear Toga laughing at her. It’s not exactly mockery, but Toga asking her if she loves Ochako does feel like a redundant question just meant to taunt.
Another thing Tsuyu can’t get out of her head is the confidence in Toga’s voice when she claims that Ochako loves them both. Is that true? If so, what does that say about Tsuyu and Toga, and the impact they have on her?
Can it both be considered love, for Ochako to hold Tsuyu’s hand with such gentle affection, and for Ochako to wake up crying because she dreamed about Toga again?
It makes her unreasonably afraid of reaching for Ochako, too. Because if Toga’s love for her is real, then perhaps love isn’t as soft and sweet as Tsuyu once believed it to be.
From Tsuyu’s perspective, love is stored in the red of the bags they carry when they go grocery shopping together, and the red of the plastic beads used in their matching bracelets, and the red of her heart that skips a beat when she hears Ochako’s laugh. But in Toga’s eyes, love is held in the red-hot anger coating her voice when they scream at each other, and the red of a twisting, bloody knife, and the red of a transfusion that cannot be reversed—
If love is meant to hurt, then Tsuyu doesn’t know if she can let herself love Ochako any longer.
But these thoughts are all because Toga remains present in their world. Which is why Tsuyu needs her gone, once and for all, so she doesn’t have to think about the purity of her love and whether or not she deserves to nourish it.
When she and Ochako finally arrive at the common room, some of their classmates are already eating lunch. The other girls wave them over, and Tsuyu ignores the concern in their eyes as she grabs a bowl of rice, sitting down to eat.
For the next few days, Toga’s ghost doesn’t show up at all.
Tsuyu should appreciate it while she can. She goes about her daily life, playing games with their classmates in the common room, assisting in reparation efforts, and sleeping alone at night. Properly.
Unfortunately, not seeing Toga doesn’t grant her the peace she hoped it would. Instead, she feels more distressed than ever, constantly thinking about how Toga’s spirit likely still hasn’t been put at peace, and that she’s still out there somewhere. She tries to reason with herself that Toga’s emotions are not her responsibility to handle, but the excuse always falls flat.
Finally, when Tsuyu can’t bear the solitude anymore, she seeks Toga out herself.
She doesn’t really know where to begin. She’s already attempted calling Toga’s name out in the bathroom, but the ghost never responds. It’s like she’s disappeared completely.
Furthermore, Tsuyu has no idea what happened to Toga’s body after the war—whether she was found alive or dead, whether her corpse was given a proper burial or not, and so on and so forth. Ochako has never talked about it on her side of the story, but she mentioned that she woke up in a hospital, so Tsuyu guesses that she doesn’t know either. Not that she’d ask Ochako directly.
Finally, her desperation reaches a breaking point, and she turns to someone else.
She sets a meeting up with him via Tokoyami, who thankfully doesn’t ask too many questions, though he does ask if she’s doing alright. It’s a question she seems to be getting a lot of lately. With a dismissive nod, she waves his worries away, and she finds herself at a café on Saturday, waiting for—
“Froppy!” Hawks calls out to her as he arrives, a brown cane in one hand and wearing a black mask. Tsuyu heard that he’s still struggling with walking again. Something about his balance being thrown off ever since he lost his massive wings.
They go inside the café and grab a corner seat for privacy. Hawks drags over a large potted plant to hide them, granting them a little more privacy. He pays for Tsuyu’s matcha tea and gets a sweet latte for himself too.
“Sooo,” Hawks says after he takes a massive sip of his drink, “I never expected to be requested by one of U.A.'s students, much less through Tsukuyomi. How did you even get him to contact me? He likes pretending I don’t exist because he’s still mad about the time I ignored all his calls—”
“Hawks-san,” Tsuyu interrupts, feeling a little awkward. “I just have a question.”
“Oops, yeah, forgive me. What’s up?”
“Um.” She fiddles with the straw of her drink, glancing down. “I was wondering… After the war, what happened to Toga Himiko’s body?”
Silence hangs in the air, dreadful and unsettling. But Tsuyu bears through it with determination, and when she looks up, she sees an unreadable emotion in Hawks’s gaze.
Finally, he asks her back, “Why do you want to know?”
It’s not an outright denial yet, so she counts her blessings. She doesn’t necessarily need to lie about her intentions, but there are some truths she omits in favour of garnering more sympathy.
“I want to know if she has a grave, or some other place I can visit her at.”
“I didn’t know you two were close like that?”
“We weren’t,” she admits. “But she and Ochako-chan were. They weren’t exactly friends, but they helped each other a lot, even on opposing sides of the war. And as Ochako-chan’s best friend, I feel that it’s necessary I show respect to the girl who impacted her life so greatly, even if I don’t understand why myself.”
Hawks regards her with a long look. For a moment, Tsuyu fears her reasoning isn’t strong enough, but then he breaks out into a small smile.
“A hero and a villain with such a strong bond? Sounds difficult to believe, doesn’t it?” He huffs out a laugh, tilting his head up, as if reminiscing an old memory. “Alright, Froppy! I’ll help you out here!”
She brightens. “Really?”
“Yes, yes, no need to thank me. I know that those with bodies still intact were either buried or cremated, and dealt with according to their wills, inclusive of the villains.” His voice drops lower. “For Toga Himiko, she was too young to have one, and she has no family to contact. I’ll have to look through her records to see what they did with her body, for I wasn’t the president yet back then, but I’ll get back to you, okay?”
Tsuyu nods. A bit later, they exchange numbers, with Hawks promising to keep in touch. Then they finish their drinks and he drives her back to U.A. with no more questions asked, and Tsuyu returns to her room with a little spring in her step.
She’s going to find Toga, and she’s going to settle this odd thing between them once and for all. Nobody else needs to know—Tsuyu will handle this whole ghostly situation herself.
(And once that’s done, maybe she can return to loving Ochako again without hearing Toga taunting her in the back of her mind.)
Tsuyu is a few steps out of the door, her bag strap gripped in her hands and determination coursing through her veins, when a quiet voice calls out to her. “Tsuyu-chan?”
She freezes.
From behind her, Ochako stands in her fluffy pink pyjamas, a hand held onto the door of U.A.’s dorms. “Where are you going?”
Tsuyu grits her teeth. She and Hawks had agreed to meet at the train station, for it’s too suspicious and obvious if he pulls up to the front of the dorms. It’s late enough that Tsuyu doesn’t have a good excuse for going out either. She wasn’t supposed to get caught.
“I’m meeting a friend,” she replies stiffly, avoiding Ochako’s gaze.
“At this timing?” Ochako takes a step closer. “And dressed like that?”
She looks down at her clothes—a pair of dark blue jeans and a long-sleeved shirt, and a pair of boots that Momo got her for her birthday this year. Hawks didn’t tell her where exactly they’d be going, but he told her to dress warm. She supposes she doesn’t look very casual right now.
Tsuyu needs to leave. She’s going to be late.
“I’ll see you later,” she says, dodging Ochako’s questions. Turning on her heel, Tsuyu gets ready to book it the hell out of there, but then she hears footsteps following after her and she grits her teeth.
“It’s dangerous to go out alone. Especially when reparations aren’t finished yet,” Ochako says, hooking her arm with Tsuyu’s. Like she’s locking her there. “I’ll come with you.”
“I told you I’m meeting someone!”
“Who?” Ochako insists, and Tsuyu clamps her mouth shut.
“Fine,” she mutters after a while, heading to the exit of U.A.
The walk to the train station occurs in terse silence. Ochako won’t let go of Tsuyu’s arm, like she doesn’t trust her to not run off the moment she does, and Tsuyu remains busy trying to figure out a way to escape this.
What’s she going to do, once they meet Hawks? Will she tell Ochako that she’s going to visit Toga’s grave?
Even if Ochako doesn’t break down at the idea, it’s sure to raise questions. Ochako doesn’t know the extent of Tsuyu’s dislike for Toga, but she also knows that they’re not friends. If she asks, then Tsuyu will have to explain everything about seeing Toga’s ghost and reveal that she’s been lying for ages—
Damn it. Tsuyu hates keeping secrets.
Finally, they arrive outside the train station. Tsuyu spots the car that Hawks said he’d be in and approaches it with hesitant steps, still avoiding Ochako’s gaze. When the window rolls down, Hawks pokes his head out, and his eyebrows raise at the sight of the two of them.
“I didn’t know we had an extra guest,” he says, eyeing Ochako warily. He gives Tsuyu a questioning look, but she can’t find it in herself to reply.
“Hawks-san?” Ochako asks. “Tsuyu-chan is meeting you?”
“Yup. Private business and all. You walked her to the station, Uravity? That’s nice of you. But I’ll have to steal Froppy from now on.”
“Where are you going?” Ochako asks.
Hawks eyes Tsuyu again. She gives a minute shake of her head.
“Sorry, Uravity, but that’s classified.” He puts a finger to his lips. “Hero business.”
Ochako remains stubborn. “Tsuyu-chan isn’t a hero yet. She should be resting, just like the rest of us! What are you making her do?” And then, she narrows her eyes. “Does Aizawa-sensei know about this?”
Hawks smiles, crossing his fingers together. “Of course!” he lies. “Me and Eraser-kun are like this!”
“So it’ll be fine for me to call Aizawa-sensei and check with him?” Ochako challenges.
“Uh—”
“It’s fine,” Tsuyu interrupts, her head bowed low. Her voice shakes on the next line. “Ochako-chan can come.”
“…Are you sure?” Hawks asks.
She nods. Tsuyu hates keeping secrets, and she hates lying to her friends even more. If Ochako’s going to hate her for this, then so be it. She deserves it.
“I’ll explain in the car,” Tsuyu mumbles, tugging the door open. She glances back, where Ochako still looks confused, but more than that, her eyes are wide with concern.
Tsuyu doesn’t deserve her care.
“Come on,” she invites, shifting into the car. “I don’t want to stay out too late anyway.”
Ochako has been quiet since Tsuyu confessed everything to her.
How she is able to see Toga’s ghost, but no longer after they had a fight. How she’s been keeping it a secret since she doesn’t want to distress Ochako any further. Hawks is there too, but Tsuyu doesn’t catch any of his reactions, too busy looking at Ochako and wondering what she thinks of this whole situation.
Eventually, after a painstakingly long ride, they arrive at a cemetery. When they step out of the car, dewy air kissing their skin, Tsuyu notices Ochako shivering.
Right. She’s only in sleepwear.
“They’re arranged by date. Hers should be further inside,” Hawks says as he shuts the door.
Tsuyu looks at the endless rows of headstones, stretching on for miles. “Are these all victims of the war?”
An odd shadow crosses Hawks’s face. “Just the ones whose families we couldn’t contact.”
Something sick churns in Tsuyu’s stomach. She reaches out on instinct, grabbing Ochako’s hand, but she freezes when she realises what she just did.
Ochako just gives her hand a tight squeeze. For some reason, that doesn’t make her feel much better.
They walk through the cemetery, shoes crunching over dead leaves and wet soil. The pavement is cracking and barely visible under all the foliage—like no one’s cleaned this place for months.
Tsuyu glances at the headstones they go by, eyes catching onto names she doesn’t recognise and dates that feel like decades ago, but were only mere months. She knew there were many victims, hell, she’s seen it firsthand, but visualising it in this way is…
It makes her remember how small she is in this vast world.
“We’re here,” Hawks calls, stopping at one of the rows. He walks inwards, shoes squelching in the muddy grass, with Tsuyu and Ochako following after him nervously.
Everything about this place is eerie in general. Tsuyu feels like they’re trampling into an area they don’t belong—beating hearts and life in the realm of the dead.
Finally, they stop at a headstone. Tsuyu knows what they’re here for, logically, but actually seeing the name, reading the characters—
“I’ll be in the car,” Hawks says, tucking a hand into his pocket. His other hand rests on his cane. “Call me if you need anything.”
“Thank you,” Tsuyu says, realising that it’s a bit belated for gratitude now.
Hawks huffs, patting her head. “Don’t worry about it.”
And then he’s gone, leaving it as just the two of them.
Ochako kneels down first, dropping herself to eye level with the headstone’s carvings— Toga Himiko.
That’s it. There’s no loving daughter or beloved friend. Just the date of her death and her age, a measly 17.
She was only 17.
Ochako doesn’t say anything just yet. She reaches out, her fingers brushing over the words on the stone, and when she draws them back, they’re blackened with dirt.
“I would’ve brought flowers, had I known,” she murmurs. “Himiko-chan likes pretty things.”
Tsuyu kneels down next to her, resting a hand on her shoulder.
They’re silent for a bit after that. Ochako’s eyes flutter close, her breaths coming out shaky, and Tsuyu keeps her eyes trained straight ahead so she doesn’t have to look at her.
And then, as wispy as a cloud passing by, she sees her appear.
Toga rests her elbows on her own headstone, peering at them both with an impassive expression. Tsuyu stares back resolutely—not ignoring her, but looking her straight in the eye, as if to say, I see you.
Toga raises an eyebrow. Tsuyu waits for her to smile or cheer or do something simplistically childish, but it never comes.
She just stands there, as old as the day she died, her space buns falling apart.
“Tsuyu-chan,” Ochako says, snapping her out of her daze. She nearly jumps out of her skin. “I’m sorry you felt like you couldn’t tell me all this.”
Her heart drops to her stomach. “It’s not you, Ochako-chan. I’m sorry for keeping this from you.”
“But I know you did it to protect me.” Her eyes flutter open, warm brown irises framed by pretty lashes. Even when downcast, she’s effortlessly beautiful. Tsuyu struggles not to stare. “If I was stronger, maybe you would’ve felt like you could share this burden with me.”
“Well, I—” She falters. “It’s fine. I’ve told you now.”
Ochako hums. They change positions, such that she’s resting her head on Tsuyu’s shoulder.
She speaks up again after. “What’s it like talking to Himiko-chan?”
“E-Eh?”
“I haven’t gotten the chance to say everything I wanted to her. I was too confused, and too scared. If I had the chance to… well, not that I’m jealous of you or anything, Tsuyu-chan. I know you’ve been really tired from all this.”
Tsuyu makes eye contact with Toga again. Her head is cocked to the side, watching them, though she still paints the picture of disinterest.
“What would you have liked to say to her?” Tsuyu asks softly.
Ochako visibly hesitates. She glances over, her voice brimming with uncertainty. “I don’t think it’s anything you’d like to hear…”
“If it’s from you, Ochako-chan,” Tsuyu assures, “I’d listen for forever.”
Her eyes shine with unshed tears. “Okay,” she chokes out, turning back to the grave. “Himiko-chan, if you’re listening…”
And so she spills every word. Some parts, Tsuyu already knows, but there are other aspects to the story that she’s never been privy to until today. Ochako talks about a love undefined and nightmares she has, about her skin melting into Toga’s and blood spilling from the merge. She speaks of a future that’ll never come for the girl she’ll never see again, of resentment for a sacrifice unasked for.
She whispers about the regret she holds deep in her heart, not just for being unable to save Toga, but for ever meeting her in the first place.
“Sometimes I think that I would’ve been better off not knowing you,” she confesses to the grave, unaware of Toga’s ghost just above, listening. “Then I never would have tasted your kind of love, and I’ll never have to spend the rest of my life craving for it.”
It’s an unbearably cruel thing to say, to imply that you regret meeting someone. But Tsuyu thinks that if it’s one thing she’s learned from all this, it’s that love, in itself, is cruel.
“But I still miss you, Himiko-chan. I don’t think I’ll ever stop. I wish we had more time, and I could show you everything I like. We could go shopping, or train together, or spend time with all of my friends…” She lifts her head, grabbing onto Tsuyu’s arm once more. “And in turn, you could show me your beautiful smile once more and— and—”
Tsuyu flinches when something cold hits her hand. She glances up, where the skies are grey and heavy.
Soon after, a few more droplets come by. Tsuyu doesn’t mind the rain, but Ochako isn’t dressed for this weather. She wraps an arm around her, holding her close, as water continues to pelt them both.
“I guess I should wrap this up, huh?” Ochako laughs shakily. She sighs. “I wonder what Himiko-chan is doing now.”
Tsuyu takes a deep breath.
She once believed that Toga was an unredeemable monster, like a demon. One that no one could possibly love. Someone who couldn’t love in return either, despite what she was always claiming.
Because how can Toga love someone and still choose to hurt them?
But listening to Ochako talk about her, not as a villain, but simply as a seventeen-year-old girl…
“I think Himiko-chan would have liked that too,” she murmurs, looking straight at Himiko.
Her ghost has been wavering since the rain started, water falling through her and breaking her form. Something in her expression shifts, her shadowed eyes filling with something unmistakably, unbelievably, alive. Tsuyu isn't sure if ghosts can cry, or if it's just the rain playing tricks on her eyes, but—
Ochako gasps, and when Tsuyu turns to her, she's looking above the headstone, where Himiko rests. Horror seeps into her eyes, but at the same time, her shoulders slump, like a weight was lifted off.
"I see her," she whispers, like her throat is squeezing around her words of disbelief. "Himiko-chan, is that really..?"
"Ochako-chan," Himiko greets back, her voice watery. "Hi."
She smiles, her row of teeth all on display, and her eyes soften even more. Tsuyu's breath stutters at the rare sight, and she thinks that she gets what Ochako means now, about Himiko having the most lovely smile.
Rain continues to pour. Ochako presses a hand to her mouth, but it does nothing to restrain the sobs wracking her body. And Tsuyu has seen her cry many, many times since the war ended, but it doesn't get any less painful to hear. The grief washes over them—both of them—unrelenting in its strength.
"I'm sorry, Ochako-chan," Himiko says, resting her cheek on her arms. Her bangs fall over her eyes and Tsuyu gets the urge to reach out and brush them aside, even though she knows her hand will just run through. "Tsuyu-chan said you have nightmares about me. I didn't mean to make you sad."
"You didn't!" Ochako denies fiercely. Her cheeks are red and her clothes are soaked through, but next to Tsuyu, her body is incredibly warm. Like not even the aching cold can stop her passionate fire. "I'm sad, but it's not your fault! I just wish—"
Her voice cracks.
Himiko laughs, rueful. "It's okay, Ochako-chan. I'm just happy to get to talk to you again."
She trails off, her eyes sliding over to Tsuyu, who jumps under her gaze. Her expression grows impassive again, like she isn't sure what to show when Tsuyu is watching. Like she isn't sure what Tsuyu would be okay with.
But it's not like that anymore. Tsuyu thinks that if Ochako can love all of Himiko, every flaw and every shadow she carries, then…
"I'm sorry, Himiko-chan," she says.
Himiko's eyebrows fly up. Ochako flinches from next to her, but Tsuyu stays resolute.
"I wanted to forget," she admits, "about everything with the war. I wanted things to return to normal. But Ochako-chan was always crying, and when you showed up, it was like a reminder that nothing would ever be the same. I hated that, so I took it out on you."
She bows her head, eyes falling shut. Her hair is sticking to her skin uncomfortably, and it's hard to hear herself over the roaring thunder or pattering of rain against the grass. Still, every word she speaks rings loud and clear, in the way only an undeniable truth is able to.
"I didn't want to believe in your love because I didn't understand it. Or, rather, I didn't like it. I didn't like how it made Ochako-chan feel, or what it'd make you do." She reaches for Ochako again, hand in hand, taking in the familiar comfort. Her other hand feels terribly empty. "But that's not fair to you, and I see it now. I can't lie and say I understand you entirely, but I know now that your love is real. And I know Ochako-chan loves you just as hard."
Ochako squeezes her hand. It's the final push she needs to get these next words out.
"Himiko-chan," she says, looking up. Gold irises stare back at her, enchantingly light. "I know it's too late to say this, and it might not mean anything to you. But, if given the chance, if we had more time…"
"Tsuyu-chan," Himiko whispers, her voice watery. Tsuyu feels the way her heart squeezes painfully, like it's trying to break out of its cage and crawl its way to the ghost standing opposite her, and she doesn't shy away from it any longer.
The raw hurt, the endless grief—Tsuyu embraces it wholly.
"If we had more time," she declares, "I think I could have learned to love you, too."
Somebody sobs—Tsuyu doesn't know if it was her or Ochako, but it certainly wasn't Himiko. Himiko, who has the brightest smile on her face, looking like the sunshine peeking in through the clouds. In fact, the rain is starting to let up, the pouring fading into a light drizzle.
Indeed, sunlight begins to wash over them as the stormy clouds part ways. It lands on Himiko, bathing her in its golden glow, and Tsuyu sees the exact moment her ghost flickers.
"Wait," Ochako blurts, realising it too. "Himiko-chan, wait—"
"I'm sorry," Himiko laughs, standing up straighter. She reaches up, brushing her bangs aside. "I think I have to go."
Ochako sniffles again. Tsuyu takes a deep, shaking breath, and nods.
"Ochako-chan, Tsuyu-chan," Himiko says. She smiles, holding her hands to her chest. "I love you both so much."
"Yeah." Tsuyu's eyes burn. "We do, too."
It's the final thing Himiko needs to hear—words laced with acceptance. She doesn't need to be loved back. She just needs someone to understand, and Tsuyu wishes it didn't take her this long to give that to her.
When Himiko disappears, leaving it as just the two of them, Tsuyu hears Ochako cough. Her eyes are downcast and her hair is a mess. She reaches out to smooth it down for her, tucking her hair behind her ears, and Ochako finally looks up, her eyes shining with more unshed tears.
"Are you okay?" Tsuyu asks gently.
Ochako visibly swallows. "I am," she manages. She rubs her eyes, swiping away the tears. "Just the rain."
Tsuyu nods again. She leans forward, pressing a soft kiss to Ochako's forehead, and then hugs her close to her chest.
They're going to grieve for a long time. She's going to continue waking up in the middle of the night with something hollow in her chest, and she's going to continue finding Ochako in the common room, drinking tea and trying to keep the nightmares at bay.
It's the unavoidable price of love, she thinks.
But to remember and to be haunted—they're one in the same. And Tsuyu will keep Himiko in her memories for as long as she lives. It's the least she deserves.
"Tsuyu-chan," Ochako whispers. "Is it always going to hurt this bad?"
She hugs Ochako tighter. "Maybe," she admits. “But we’ll be okay.”
She says it like she needs to believe it. And Ochako buries her face in her neck like she does.
A few years later, when Ochako brings up the idea of a Quirk Counselling Initiative, Tsuyu is right by her side.