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Himiko knew she was a monster. Where was the use in trying to change that and fix it? Where was the use in loving her, a murderer who didn't even regret anything? She didn't deserve that. She was heading out on that battlefield to annihilate every single hero, every oppressor, every last pain they'd made her feel. She wasn't going out to call for a ceasefire. She was giving no mercy, and she didn't want any either.
~~~
Jail was cold and harsh. There was no way to drink blood. No way to express anything. Just bleak isolation. Damn Ochaco for making her feel things and helping her, keeping them both alive. How did Ochaco get Toga to turn herself in in the first place? Dammit, she just wanted to be free.
Suddenly, a guard unlocked her cell, holding something in his hand. Did thinking about freedom grant it? Maybe she'd get to- That thought was cut off by cold metal being put over her mouth and buckled behind her head. A muzzle. Great. It's not like she wasn't used to it, but it still stung. Handcuffs locked on her wrists so she couldn't unbuckle it. What was even going on?
"You have a visitor. You're lucky that anyone wants to talk to a monster like you." He growls, leaving the cage and letting her visitor enter. Her brown-haired, brown-eyed, pink themed visitor. Ochaco.
"Hey! Take that thing off her mouth!" Ochaco demands. It touches Toga, sure, but it's probably just a ploy to gain trust. The guard still won't change anything and Ochaco, smart as she is, would know that.
"It's for your protection, Mrs.Uraraka." He says before leaving. Ochaco rolls her eyes, like that does anything. Still, it gets Himiko more comfortable with her a bit despite the fact this is probably part of a plot to locate and destroy the remnants of the league.
"What do you want?" Himiko asks, hoping the answer means it's something worth listening to.
"I want to understand you." Ochaco responds. Toga was prepared for really any answer, but this one truly shocks her. Never before has someone wanted to understand the monster that escaped from under the bed and roams in broad daylight. No one should want to! It's how you'd wind up dead! Just look at this muzzle! Does she have that little self preservation she'd hang around a predator, waiting to be eaten?
"There's nothing to understand, Ochaco. I'm a murderer. I kill people for fun. I enjoy it! Then I suck every last drop of their blood like you soak up sunshine. There's nothing in me that you want to see and hang around." Toga argues, tears starting to well. She doesn't even know why. She knows that she's twisted and sick, and doesn't regret it. So why are tears falling down her face?
"Toga, is that really what you think? I'm sure you're more than your crimes and sins. If we were only our bad parts, you'd be right. But we're not. We're every side of us, and I refuse to believe there's anyone that doesn't have a good side in them." Ochaco insists.
"That may be true for heroes. You want to save people and restore things. We wanna tear it apart and build something new. But I'm not like the other villains. They have reasons and motives. I was just born enjoying blood and suffering. I wanted to make a world where people can enjoy that." Toga fights, trying to prove to Ochaco how dangerous she is before she hurts her.
"The fact your admitting stuff and trying to keep my safe by keeping you away is proof you regret how you used to be." Ochaco points out. How stupid this logic is.
"I'm unforgivable, Ochaco. Don't keep looking for something to redeem me or you'll be disappointed in what you see. Regret won't bring their souls back or erase the hurt their families felt." Toga whispers, trying not to sob. Ochaco just responds with gentle looks and soft hands wiping away tears.
"You are not just the people you've murdered. I can't excuse what you've done. But I can say this:you are more than that." Ochaco murmurs, hugging Toga who is muzzled and crying.
Toga has evolved. Regular meetings and pep talks from Ochaco have built her into someone that can be loved, but also feel love. Healthily now. She has risen above her crimes while not forgetting them. She has not forgotten her demons-and never will. She works to do justice that can never be given to those they hurt. Every day will be spent making their lives count, no matter what it takes.
~~~
The day she was freed stands as the best day of her entire life. It wasn't just shackles off her wrists and sunlight on her skin for the first time in months- it was knowing she was trusted to function. Well, there was mandatory therapy and a bracelet she had to wear that tracked her and could knock her out if needed. But for the first time, she'd be nourished.
When she arrived at her new there was one box and some basic furniture. The box contained blood donations she could use labeled with pictures of who they were. She guessed that it was so she would know who she was transforming into, as well as giving her blood so she wouldn't kill people for theirs anymore. She gently closed up the box and set it in the fridge. She walked around to survey the apartment. The walls were white and the floor was creaky. The furniture consisted of a couch missing a leg that had been replaced with a stack of old books and a creaky bed frame that held a thin foam mattress. It was covered in a red sheet, which she appreciated. Whoever thought of this had her in mind. When Toga opened the linen closet, she found a scritchy, thick blanket and thin pillow set on top of the washer and dryer. She set them on the bed, ecstatic about having comfortable possessions. When she went through the kitchen, she found a spoon, some cans of soup, and a saucepan. They didn't wanna give her anything that would upset her stomach after prison, she presumed, as well as no utensils that could be used in murdering innocents. Still, it made her happy they stocked some food here. That they thought of her. An idea struck her, and she picked up her new flip phone (they didn't want her to have internet access in these vulnerable stages of recovery) and dialed Ochaco's number.
5 minutes later, there was a knock at the door. Toga sprinted to the door and yanked it open, Ochaco tackling her in a hug.
"I'm so proud of you! You finally got your own place! Did you know I also live in this building? I'm in the apartment below you!" Ochaco rattled off, her face beaming with excitement.
"Thanks! I can't believe I did! I didn't know that, no! That's awesome!" Toga responded, equally rapid-fire in her speech.
"Do you want some help livening up this place?" Ochaco asked, a smirk clear on her face.
5 hours later, the kitchen was bubblegum pink, bedroom a burgundy red, and the main living area was a light cream-yellow. There was paint all over their faces and clothes, a smear of burgundy on Toga's left knee matching a blob in pink on Ochaco's shirt. It was a perfect first day of freedom. She was free from prison, but also her past and all her mistakes. She could grow knowing that doing inexcusable things didn't mean love was off the board entirely.
~~~
Toga's routine was simple. Wake up, get comfortably and protectively dressed in her new costume, and beat up villains. On Saturdays, she'd go pick up a couple of vials of blood taken from donors or villains she captured and add those to their little loops in her new belt. She'd trace her thumb over the picture, memorizing the person's face and thanking them for the blood. Later, Ochaco would come over with notes to teach Toga about UA's hero classes, but end up hanging out with Toga instead. They'd order pizza or watch rom-coms or maybe just stare at the blank white ceiling while talking about life. They were starting to get closer, more physically affectionate and close in a way only best friends could be. Patches in Toga's soul were beginning to be filled slowly but steadily. On Sundays, Toga would look over the notes Ochaco had left from classes to learn new skills. She wasn't allowed to enroll necessarily, but nothing stopped her from learning and improving. Then she'd head to therapy in the afternoon to work through things and learn to manage her quirk. It was far more than she deserved.
~~~
Toga's breath came in short gasps, and the world seemed to tilt like a carnival ride. Except she was crumpled on her bedroom floor, where the world should definitely be still. It was like she was sinking in water that only existed to her and it was filling her lungs, stealing oxygen and all reason that came with it. How long had she been drowning? How much longer would she last? Surely not much more, for a fire was burning through her lungs and up to her throat and making her feel dried out. Despite drowning, she needed water.. At this point, she could see the faces of those she killed swimming in front of her. There was no denying that she was a killer. No change of a new life could refute that and no amount of love could forgive it. She deserved nothing, nothing! Maybe she should just-
Ochaco's face appeared in their ranks, and Toga had the horrible thought she'd killed her too, cutting off the lost one who loved her. She reached out a hand to grab her, pull her back to this life, but she felt warm, very real skin.
"That's it." Ochaco's caring voice affirmed as Toga calmed down with the touch, her face cocked to the side in concern. The faces faded slowly, the water draining.
"Water" Toga managed to croak out. Ochaco ran out of the door. The slam of a cabinet door shutting. The hiss of running water. A cold glass was placed into her hand and she quickly downed it, grateful for the life it restored.
"What was going on?" Ochaco asked. That was all it took to spill out her soul and grief for all the sins she'd committed and the lives she'd taken. It was unfair she'd done nothing but take and take and continue without consequence. Ochaco talked her down, staying with her. That's all she needed. Toga couldn't help but think that if she got love earlier maybe... maybe it would've turned out different.
~~~
Toga was now 26. She could afford her own new furniture, replacing that broken couch. She could drive herself to therapy. She'd gone from beating up villains to mentoring them in how to turn around from what she'd once been doing. Most of them were just problematic, slightly destructive children, no casualties on their hands. It healed something shattered inside to know that future hers were being stopped before they really began. She taught the kids how to be their real selves while loving everyone around them, teaching them how to prevent harm to others. She was mighty proud of that. But the thing she was proudest of? She'd made a memorial to every one of her victims. All 36 of them. Each person's full name, birthday, date of death, a list of their family members and a little bit about the person was placed on a red splatter on the ground in a circle. Even the worst people she'd killed, like Curious, got one. A fountain of red was in the middle. She'd never forget. Ever. She'd keep their memories alive because she was the one who made them ghosts. It in no way made up for their losses. But it did honor them and keep her accountable.
Oh, another important thing about her life! Ochaco had moved into her apartment, along with a dog they named Sammy. They were roommates now, as they operated a joint program where Ochaco captured villains and Toga rehabilitated them. Plus rent was cheaper when they both paid. It just made sense to live together. Ochaco wasn't just helping Toga either. It turns out, because of all the lack of money in Ochaco's life, she'd developed horrible eating routines. She wouldn't eat to save money, although now it was just a sick habit she couldn't break. Then she'd get so hungry she'd eat and eat and then yak it up later because her stomach couldn't handle it all. Toga gently encouraged her to seek help consistently for years, and eventually she finally did. Now Ochaco ate a nutritious 3 meals a day. And while Toga's brain would still conjure up the faces of her victims, drown her in an endless sea and burn her throat with constricted breaths, Ochaco knew how to gently soothe her out of it with a cool glass of water and some soft touch. They'd learned to lean on each other, and to embrace the tougher parts of life. As it turns out, love is never off the table, and best friends can mean the world.
So, dear reader, any time you think you are unredeemable or the worst in the world, the demons shouting in your head call you a monster, tell you you don't deserve happiness and healthiness, come back to this fic. I want you to know that no matter how unexcusable an action is, you can be loved.