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Toga has been spending quite a bit of time in the Class 1-A dorms recently.
Fumikage doesn’t know much about her, really—just that she is a second year student who was accepted into the support course after failing the practical portion of the hero course entrance exam last year, and that she imprinted on Uraraka after meeting her during the sports festival. Hence, her inclination to show up in their dorm common room as if she belongs there. Fumikage initially believed she must be bitter she did not make it into the hero course, but she does not seem to hold any resentment towards the students of Class 1-A.
In fact, she is strikingly…friendly. To everyone.
Truly, Fumikage does not understand her. And yet, he finds himself intrigued by her behavior. Call it morbid curiosity, or a brewing obsession, but he has begun going out of his way to be present in the common room whenever he knows Toga is around. He much prefers the darkness and solitude of his own room, but the pull of Toga’s presence is impossible to resist.
Today, she bounces into the dorm building with a wide grin splitting her face, her sharp teeth on display. There is no one around apart from Fumikage, because Yaoyorozu is hosting a study group in the Class 1-B dorms, so he is not entirely sure why she chose to stop by. Surely Uraraka informed her of where she would be…?
“Hiya!” Toga greets, waving. Her smile does not falter at their lack of company, and Fumikage averts his gaze from her face, lest the luminosity of her expression render him blind. He observes out of the corner of his eye as she skips over, coming to a stop on the other side of the counter from where he is standing. She rests her elbows on the surface of it.
Fumikage can feel her eyes boring into him, as if burning two holes straight through his flesh and into his soul. He pointedly ignores both the sensation and the pleasant thrum in his veins at the thought of being the sole target of Toga’s focus.
“Uraraka-san is with Yaoyorozu-san in the Class B dorms,” Fumikage informs her. “I fear most of my classmates have abandoned this place for the evening.”
Toga hums. “Ochako-chan mentioned that, yeah. But I’m curious! Why didn’t you go with them? Are you secretly some sort of super genius?”
“I prefer to study on my own. That is all.”
“Oooh, so you really are the mysterious brooding loner type!” Toga claps her hands together. “I thought the girls were exaggerating.”
Fumikage shoots her a sideways glance. “The girls talk about me?” he asks, aiming to keep his tone neutral. He does not hold any feelings of the romantic sort towards any of his classmates—girls or otherwise—but he would like to know if he should be wary of being the victim of an infatuation. He would prefer to end any wayward fantasies before they can grow legs and lead to a heartbreak.
Toga giggles. “Only when I ask them.”
That is, perhaps, the worst response she could have given.
If it had been anyone else speaking his name when he is not around, he might have been saddled with the unfortunate task of rejecting a classmate, but ultimately, he is certain it would have blown over in due time. After all, they are hero students; they can conquer any adversity thrown their way, including unrequited feelings.
It’s different with Toga, however.
When she confesses that she is the one who brings him up in conversation, his heartbeat picks up and his neck grows warm. He is certain if he did not have an avian head, his cheeks would be visibly flushed. He is lucky Dark Shadow has not elected to emerge and announce the fluster which he is feeling herself—though perhaps she is floundering in the presence of Toga as well.
Is that a strange thing for Fumikage to hope for?
“Soooo…” Toga’s voice draws him out of his thoughts. “Whatcha doin’?”
Fumikage finally looks at her head-on, then, bewildered by the question. Hesitantly, he replies, “I am making dinner.”
“Can I help?”
He blinks. Can Toga help him…make food? Fumikage may not know much about her, but he is aware her quirk requires consumption of blood to activate, and he has overheard mutterings that the taste is something she rather enjoys. To permit her to interact with food he intends to eat seems as if it may be a dangerous decision, but—
She is gazing at him with such eagerness and—dare he say—adoration, that he finds her impossible to turn down.
“Alright,” he relents.
“Yippee!!” She jumps up, throwing her arms in the air. “Oh, this is so exciting!” She darts around the counter and immediately sidles up to him, gleaming golden eyes fixating on his face. Her smile raises goosebumps across his flesh. He wishes he could be its eternal victim.
Focus, he chides himself. He came down to the common room for food, with the intention of fixing a quick meal before he resumed studying. Although, now that Toga has joined him and requested to assist his cooking, he is inclined to make something a bit more complex than the cup noodles he likely would have microwaved if she had not shown up. He is not as fond of this sort of thing as Bakugou and Satou, but he can certainly hold his own well enough to not make a complete and utter fool of himself in front of Toga. So long as he chooses a simple recipe.
“What’re we making?”
“Um.” Fumikage takes a step away from Toga, because she is startlingly close and the warmth of her body is causing him to sweat. “I have not yet perused our store of ingredients.”
“Oh!” Toga spins around. “Alright, we can decide together then!”
Fumikage grimaces as she heads for the fridge. “Ah, Toga-kun—”
“You can call me Himiko, you know.” She swings the door open and peers inside.
“Himiko—” he falters at the likely need for a different honorific, “—chan? Do not mess with anything labelled as belonging to Bakugou-kun. I would prefer to avoid unleashing his wrath on either of us.”
She clicks her tongue in dismay. “Fine, whatever. Oh! Do you have rice? We could make onigiri! I kind of already ate before coming here, so I’m not, like, suuuuper hungry. And it’s so fun to make! I love shaping them.”
Onigiri would be relatively easy, and Fumikage would be quite surprised if they didn’t have rice with how particular Iida and Bakugou are about groceries.
“Very well,” he agrees. “Onigiri it is.”
Himiko cheers as she lets the fridge door fall shut. For a moment, Fumikage is entranced watching her. He knows he should not stare—he does not have time to mess around this evening, and he does not wish for Himiko to discover his strange obsession with her—but he simply cannot tear his gaze away. Bakugou calls her a vampire, and he has heard whispers of other students on campus declaring her to be scary and villain-like, but to Fumikage, those are the very things that enchant him so.
He has seen the sinister glint in her eyes, and has heard the malicious undertone threaded through her words, but he has always been drawn to the darkness. Perhaps it was inevitable that he would fall for the shadows within Himiko just as much as the sunny exterior she presents to the world.
“You’re so down bad,” Dark shadow snickers in his ear.
Fumikage starts, physically pushing her down. “Shut up,” he hisses, as she continues laughing at his misfortune like the traitor she is.
“Something the matter?” Himiko asks, tilting her head.
“No,” Fumikage grits out. Finally, Dark Shadow retreats, though not without great effort to suppress her on Fumikage’s part. He will have to be careful not to let his guard down again, lest she determine it will be funny to expose everything he feels for Himiko and consequently ruin his life.
Himiko squints, like she doesn’t quite believe him, but after a moment, she simply shrugs and turns away. “Okay. Let’s make the rice! Also, what fillings should we use? I like meat, but veggies are fine too if you’re vegetarian— Wait. Do you have a restricted diet? ‘Cause of the bird thing? Sorry if that’s insensitive or something but I think quirk-related dietary guidelines are sooooo interesting! I mean, like, obviously my quirk is related to eating, in a way. And I find it crazy that not everyone enjoys the taste of blood! To me, it’s the most delicious thing in the whole wide world, and drinking someone’s blood is a way for me to be close to them. It’s just, like, a normal thing for my body to crave, I guess? Recovery Girl makes me take iron supplements to curb the cravings but, like, it only sort-of works ‘cause it’s not born from an iron deficiency. At least, not completely— Anyway! What about you?”
By the time Toga’s rambling has come to a stop, Fumikage has retrieved the rice cooker, the rice itself, and begun washing the rice. He would like to say her deliberation about blood consumption lessened his interest in her.
Alas, unlike the majority of society, Fumikage finds dark topics such as blood-drinking quite intriguing. He hung onto every word she said, to the point where he forgot her initial question was directed towards his own diet.
“My digestive system is that of a typical human,” he replies. “I count myself lucky that I have teeth as well. Otherwise, I suppose I would be relegated to swallowing my food whole. I suppose my tastes preferences may be generally similar to that of a raven or crow, but I am not an especially picky eater.”
“I see…” Himiko muses. She looks him over, as if she is trying to read his thoughts. “Ravens are omnivores, and they just kind of eat whatever they can find when in the wild. So that makes sense… They don’t eat fish, but they’re not marine birds, so they probably can’t, like, catch fish to eat.” She huffs. “This is impossible! I can’t guess your favorite filling at all!”
Fumikage chuckles. With the rice now thoroughly rinsed, he moves on to adding both it and water to the rice cooker. “It is not a typical choice, but rather one my parents have made at home.”
“Oooh, so you eat weird things too?!” She appears at his side, a container of shredded chicken left over from the girls’ cooking a few nights prior in her hands. “Should I mix this with mayo or something? I’m sure Ochako-chan won’t mind if we use it! Also, my favorite favorite onigiri filling is blood. Is yours some type of bug?”
Fumikage stills. “What?”
“Birds eat bugs a lot,” Himiko explains. “And you said it’s something your parents made for you. Not something you can find at the store. And you didn’t tell me specifics. I’m sure a lot of other people would get weirded out about eating bugs, but I don’t really think it’s fair to judge people for what they like to eat. So!” She pokes his shoulder. “Am I right?”
It is uncomfortable, to be read so easily by someone. Himiko’s thought process is sound, but most would not be willing to engage in such thorough analysis of another individual, held back by their own internal biases of how a human ‘should’ behave. Himiko is not scared to entertain unconventional ideas when they are the most likely conclusion to draw, and thus, she has managed to read Fumikage like an open book.
It’s humbling, to say the least. He had presumed himself to be an enigma of sorts.
“You are,” he admits with a sigh. “My mother has a bird mutation quirk, so she often feeds me her favorite foods.” It is not so much the flavor of grasshoppers that Fumikage enjoys above all else so much as it is having something to share with his mother. However, he does not intend to share that with anyone, for any reason short of his life being on the line.
“Can I try it some time?”
“You do not have to humor me,” Fumikage replies dryly.
“I’m not!” Himiko insists. “I like to try all of my friends’ favorite foods—I think it says a lot about a person! I’d let you try some of my blood in return, but people usually don’t like that idea.” She pouts.
Fumikage must turn away before he agrees to her whims just for the sake of seeing her smile return. He is beginning to regret choosing the rice cooker over the stove, if only because now that the rice is cooking, there is nothing for either of them to do apart from stare at one another and discuss their atypical food enjoyment. It is not a bad topic, but it is a dangerous one for Fumikage and his yearning heart which longs to do anything to make Himiko happy.
“Perhaps sometime, I could gather the necessary ingredients,” he acquiesces, resolutely ignoring the part where she offered up her blood for him to taste. He fears if he dwells on that for too long, he might never recover. Or, worse, he will lose his fragile hold on Dark Shadow and she will insist blood-drinking is a suitable after-school activity for the two of them to engage in.
“YES!” Himiko cheers. “You’re so awesome, Fumikage!”
He does not have time to process hearing his given name from Himiko’s lips before she lunges forward, wrapping her arms around him in a hug tight enough to steal the oxygen right out of his lungs. She is so warm, and as she buries her face in his shoulder, Fumikage feels himself relaxing into her touch. He is not one to seek out physical affection, but he does not mind this so much, even if it is causing his heart to race and his feathers to ruffle.
In the lapse of his brainpower that comes alongside Himiko’s hug, Dark Shadow breaks free from the metaphorical cage Fumikage had trapped her in, bursting out into the space beside him, and coos at the sight.
“You two are so cute!” she exclaims, ignoring Fumikage’s silent pleas for her to behave herself.
Himiko pulls back, but instead of the confusion Fumikage expects to find in her expression, she starts giggling. She rises onto her toes, reaching for Dark Shadow and patting her head. “You think so?”
Dark Shadow preens under the affection. Fumikage can only stand by in abject horror as she says, “Did you know Fumikage has a maaaassive crush on you? It’s getting a little embarrassing to watch!”
“Silence!” he hisses, though the damage has already been done. He despairs, unsure how to proceed with his heart laid bare for Himiko to pick at.
She is not looking at him, though—instead, she leans in closer to Dark Shadow. “Would you like to know a secret?”
“Yes!”
Himiko stage-whispers: “I have a crush on Fumikage too!”
All of Fumikage’s thoughts screech to a halt. It is as if he is a bird whose wings locked up mid-flight and all he can do now is watch in terror as the ground approaches. In the back of his mind, he registers Dark Shadow’s laughter and teasing as the wind rushing through his ears. Himiko’s voice joins the mix as well, but he is unable to discern any distinct words until she gently taps a finger against his beak.
“Helloooo, earth to Fumikage? I didn’t mean to break you!” She giggles, and the glimmer in her eyes acts as a soft place for Fumikage to land.
“I did not break,” he insists, though it was a close thing. Before Dark Shadow can call him out on that, though, he clears his throat and continues speaking. “I apologize for my quirk’s insolence—”
“Hey!”
“I don’t mind,” Himiko assures him. “She was just trying to help! And I think you needed it, ‘cause you wouldn’t have confessed yourself, would you?”
Fumikage falters.
“That’s what I thought!” Dark Shadow declares, haughty as ever. She pats Fumikage on the head. “I’ll leave you to it.”
With that, she disappears, leaving Fumikage standing alone in the chaos she bestowed upon him. Himiko remains in place, smiling softly at him. Fumikage does not know what to do with this—he had never entertained the possibility that she may return his feelings. How could he expect the midnight sky to attract the attention of the noon sun?
(Then again, does Himiko not have darkness of her own? Perhaps their shadows were fated to find one another across space and time.)
“Soooo…” Himiko clasps her hands together and rocks forward on the balls of her feet. “Does that mean this can be a date?”
“You are content with our first date being in the dorm common room?” Fumikage questions.
Himiko shrugs. “Why not? We’re already here, and I don’t wanna wait!”
“Very well,” Fumikage agrees. “But I wish to court you properly in the future.”
Himiko beams. “I look forward to it!”
And then, she closes the distance between them and kisses the tip of Fumikage’s beak. It is a quick thing—over just as soon as it’s begun—and though Fumikage can feel nothing but a light sense of pressure from it, warmth spreads through him at the gesture.
He fears Himiko may be the death of him, but if she is, it will truly be a beautiful way to die.