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Few things in the world are quite as unpleasant as Musutafu alleyways, in the opinion of Toga Himiko. She doesn’t know what it is about this city in particular, but all of the back alleys are cold, dark, and smelly. One would think that during the reconstruction efforts there would have been a change in how they’re constructed, something to keep them from being at least one of the cold, dark, and smelly traits, but no, they’re just the same as they’ve always been. They’re a terrible place to be, and right now she can’t remember what it was that had brought her here in the first place. She had once designed her life in such a way that she would seek to destroy the things that she hates, and though much has changed since then, she would still do something to destroy Musutafu alleyways if she could. They’re an awful place to pass through, an awful place to find oneself in for more than a moment or two, an awful place to have to spend the night if one has nowhere else to go.
And honestly an awful place to die.
She’s been dead once before, has Toga Himiko. Not for very long, but dead nonetheless, bled out into the veins of the girl she loved. Her memory is hazy about what had happened after she’d laid down next to Uraraka Ochako, fully prepared to give her life, but she knows something had gotten her off that battlefield and into the arms of safety. Anything after that is fuzzy as well; it’s really hard to think while bleeding out, as she well knows. This time though, it’s not for any grand reason, not to save anyone’s life or prove to the world that she would live as she wished. No, it had been over her wallet. Someone with a Quirk to mask their presence - even from her - had gotten the drop on her as she’d ducked away from a Hero patrol, nervous despite her disguise, and clubbed her over the back of the head. Trying to fight them off had only gotten her broken bones and a black eye, the blow to the skull keeping her off her game, and once they’d taken what they wanted - alongside her wallet - they’d left her on the cold, dark, smelly ground, wheezing around the broken rib poking her in the lung. She’d managed to sit herself up against a wall, refusing to die on her back again, but she knows she’s done for. All she can hope for, for the first time in her life, is a Hero to stumble across her and bring her to safety.
She thinks about transforming again, using a Quirk to bring herself to safety, but she only has one vial of blood left. It’s a special one; she’s been saving it for a long time. Even as she starved slowly, she refused to drink it and take the edge off. Because this was the last of the blood from the boy she loved. It’s taken everything she has to keep it safe, to keep it from going bad, but Jin’s final gift to her, the little box it’s stored in, had done its job. And even now, in her dying moments, she hesitates. It might save her, but it might also make her death even more awful. But at least she’d die as someone she loves. She makes her choice, raises her hand slowly to the pocket in her scarf, glad the mugger hadn’t bothered to search her after finding her wallet, and feels her fingers brush up against the box. And then she hears a voice at the other end of the alley. It’s soft, light, happier than it has any right to be, and it makes Toga angry for a moment.
“Yes, I’ll be back soon. No. No, I’m literally at the base of the mountain right now, I’m a block away from the cafe. Go to sleep then and I’ll see you in the morning. Well then tell her that I love her very much and it’s really not a big deal if we celebrate New Years on New Year’s Day rather than New Year’s Eve. If Denki hadn’t spilled her apple cider this wouldn’t be a problem so tell her she can guilt trip him about it; she has my full permission to give him the sad eyes. Okay. Love you too. Bye.”
Her resentment fades. Whoever they are, they have someone they love, love enough to go out on New Year’s Eve to buy a bottle of apple cider just because someone else had spilled their last. She wishes, as she dies, that someone had loved her that much. As she feels herself starting to slip away, something deep within her wells up: a desire not to have it end like this. Not here, not now. She wants so badly to live. Her hands won’t move anymore, but her lips and tongue will, and she musters the very last of her strength.
“Help me.”
It’s weak. It’s quiet. No normal person would be able to hear it. Sitting in a puddle of her own Quirk offcasts, her disguise failing, she sighs a wet, bloody sigh. She had tried, at least. Nobody in heaven or hell would be able to tell her that she had given up, at the last. She had made that effort, even if it failed. She may not be able to die as someone she loves, but she’ll at least die as herself. As the cutest girl in the whole world.
Footsteps.
Closer and closer they draw, beating hastily against the pavement. Someone’s kneeling by her, hands on her body, searching for a wound to put pressure on, scrambling for a pulse. It’s no use, of course; her bleeding is all internal, and unless they have some kind of miracle Quirk, she’s going to die in front of them. She blinks, painfully and slowly, trying to get the tears from her eyes so she can look at the person trying so hard to save her. She wants that. She wants to know the face of that kindness before she dies, so she can go knowing that there is some good in the world after all, that in this world someone really is willing to reach out their hand and help a stranger. She catches a flash of green. It’s a familiar colour, one that warms her heart. It’s his colour. She blinks more, and sees bright green eyes staring deep into her soul. She knows those eyes. She would know them anywhere. There’s something different about the face they’re set in, the curve of the cheek dusted with familiar freckles, but the eyes could never lie, not to her. She hears that voice again, the one from the phone call. Of course. It makes perfect sense now. Of anyone in the whole wide world, this person would love someone enough to go out on New Year’s Eve to buy a bottle of apple cider just because someone else had spilled their last. She’s glad she gets to die in their company this time.
“Hey, stay with me, okay? Hey, come on, keep those eyes open, look at me damn it! Dont you dare, don’t you fucking dare die on me! Toga Himiko-chan, open your eyes right now, you’re going to make Ochako cry again!”
Oh.
Ochako had cried. That makes sense. During their final fight, the girl hadn’t been able to stop crying. Even as she bled from a stab wound Toga had put there herself, she’d cried, trying to tell Toga not to save her life. She remembers it vividly. Wheezing in agony, she pries her eyes open.
“Good, that’s good. I’m going to give you something, a needle in your leg; it’s an experimental emergency medicine but it doesn’t work if someone’s already dead; it won’t fix anything but it’ll keep you alive long enough to receive some kind of treatment - at least that’s the hope, it’s not like it’s easy to test it on humans and really I shouldn’t even be carrying it right now but this is exactly the kind of situation I picked it up for and oh yeah it’s going to hurt really badly sorry about that in advance; I don’t know how much that’s going to matter to you right now but I figured I’d let you know at least I don’t even know how well you can hear me right now, I-”
“Mutt…er…ing.”
It’s cute. One of the cutest traits. A passion for knowing things, for thinking about things, manifest in an inability to keep those thoughts inside. She feels a needle poke into her thigh, but no pain. Or, no pain that overwhelms the pain she already feels. Something courses through her veins, fiery and bright, but it doesn’t burn. She hears the voice again, feels fingers wiping some of the blood from her lips.
“Tsu-chan, I’m going to send you some coordinates, you need to wake up Granny Chiyo and bring her out here, it’s an emergency. No, I can’t just take them to the hospital. Can you just trust me please? And whatever you do, don’t tell Ochako, she’s going to have a panic attack. Just, run cover for me, okay? … Yeah. Yeah, it’s her.”
She can feel herself awake, alive, but her focus and her presence slips away, and she loses track of the world around her. Time marches on without her, and eventually she hears a new voice, though she can’t make out what it’s saying anymore. It seems to be arguing with the first voice. That’s no good; nobody should argue with that voice. She feels something press against her cheek, and suddenly she can move again. She uses this newly restored ability to turn to the side and noisily, painfully vomit a mix of blood and bile. She’s being held up by gentle, steady hands, which move her to a flat surface of some kind. It’s soft. She can hear the second voice a little better now, but she so badly wants to sleep.
“-can’t do much else for her; she’ll live, but she’s got a long road to recovery. Malnutrition is the bane of my Quirk - she’ll have to heal up the normal way. You’re lucky I like you, but I will have to tell Nedzu about this, and your brown-eyed beauty will find out a lot sooner than later! Get that restraint buckled down tight; if she falls off there’ll be hell to pay, deary. Tsuyu-san, grab that little box there, keep it safe. Eri-chan is going to have words for you, Midoriya, and you’re going to deserve every one of them. Alright kids, away we go.”
“I’m more worried about how hard Ochako-chan is going to slap me after this. I’ll deserve that too, but I don’t want her to see Toga until we can get her cleaned up. We’ll get everyone together, break the news to her as gently as we can. Himiko-chan.”
That last is directed at her. She looks up into those beautiful green eyes and does her best to smile.
“Welcome back.”