MHA: Thorny Path of a Pro-Hero

I left the field in turmoil.

Aizawa had played me, there was no trip as a reward, but I had exposed my abilities significantly. Just got carried away, I guess.

And considering the upcoming meeting with the principal, there’s a chance they might have already figured me out during the exam.

What next? If things continue like this, my attempt at playing spy won’t even make it to the Unforeseen Simulation Joint, because there’s a rat in U.A., and I haven’t identified them yet!

If I don’t last that long, the villains might find out my real quirk, and then…

Damn.

I had no idea what to do right now.

On one hand, it made sense to head back to class quickly, check tomorrow’s schedule, and then sort out the dormitory situation. I hadn’t moved in yet, still living in a neighboring town an hour and a half away, and hadn’t seen the need to arrive a few days early, so I was still living out of a suitcase. Many of my classmates were in the same situation.

On the other hand, it wouldn’t hurt to exchange a few words with Kiyotaka Shinya. At least to try. A strong ally wouldn’t hurt, and while I had already established some contact with Midoriya and had a rough idea of how to interact with Bakugo and Todoroki, this guy… was still a mystery.

And lastly, my biggest headache at the moment was…

A cheerful, sweet girl approached me.

“Hi, I’m Toga! Toga Himiko! Finally, this boring stuff is over! I didn’t like it! And I’ve wanted to be friends with you, Niren-kun, for the longest time! Let’s talk! Let’s be friends! Let’s get closer!”

My biggest headache at the moment was the yandere who had taken an interest in me. And who had chosen this moment to make her move and get closer.

My brain, with imaginary click, shifted into combat mode, quickly calculating my next steps.

What is a “yandere”?

It’s a common anime character trope—girls who are a bit unhinged. Obsessed with love for someone else. Maniacs.

What could this mean in real life?

Maybe obsessive-compulsive disorder. Or schizophrenia. But most likely—bipolar affective disorder. Also known as manic-depressive psychosis.

What are the symptoms of mania?

Heightened excitability, an inappropriately positive mood, rapid speech... excessive talking... a strange flush… a crazy gleam in their eyes…

Does Toga have all that? Yes.

Himiko was nodding her head cheerfully from side to side, smiling and staring at me.

Motor excitement—also present.

Is she dangerous?

“Yes, let’s talk. I wanted to talk to you as well.”

Yes, she is definitely dangerous.

The girl suddenly grabbed my jacket sleeve—moving surprisingly fast, clearly trained, though I noticed she wasn’t armed and that this particular movement wasn’t a threat—she spun me around and forcefully pulled me somewhere.

I didn’t resist.

I didn’t need witnesses for this conversation.

I planned to speak with her honestly.

Manic phases of bipolar disorder are also characterized by sudden, dangerous mood swings. Combine that with her combat capabilities, and if we don’t reach an understanding, she might hurt someone. I could defend myself, but protecting others would be harder.

Better to take her somewhere isolated.

Himiko glanced back at me, her wide smile stretching even further. Her eyes gleamed like those of a drug addict. Or a student who stayed up all night playing video games, which, in some ways, is the same thing.

I think I know what she wants.

The question is, should I give her what she thinks she wants?

The answer has multiple layers.

First of all, her being in U.A. weakens the villains. At least not those I’ll face in the USJ… or maybe them? I don’t remember. It doesn’t matter.

So, at least for that reason, I should keep her here.

Or neutralize her.

Next. Is she useful?

She is.

In the future, when she can copy other people’s quirks, she’ll become a formidable enemy. An ally?

But even now, she’s strong—fast, agile, flexible. Trained to move properly, with a solid foundation that rivals my own.

Where did she learn it? How did she even pass the entrance exam? U.A. didn’t conduct psychological evaluations—relying instead on school psychologists. A mistake. Toga is unstable. But she’s a brilliant actress, surely convincing everyone at school of her sweetness and innocence.

But her quirk gives her no combat advantages, and she couldn’t freely use it on other students due to the risk of disqualification. So she passed purely on her skills? That’s not important right now.

Her quirk is useful for espionage and sabotage.

Her value increases even more considering U.A.’s excellent hero resources and funding.

And I’m the only one who currently knows what she’s capable of.

And she’s already attached to me—fixated, just like yanderes fixate on protagonists in anime.

And she’s easily influenced—the labile psyche of a lonely teenager. The fact that she got into U.A. proves that.

“So, in theory, I can control her,” I concluded.

Then came a second, belated thought: “Wait, wasn’t I trying to be a hero?”

But it was too late to think like that.

Toga led me away from the main building, past the gym where we had taken the grip strength test. We walked along a neatly paved path, past manicured trees, and reached the edge of a wall...

Before we lost sight of the classmates returning to the massive H-shaped building, I caught a few glances—some surprised, some indifferent, one concerned. Setsuna, who had witnessed my earlier encounter with Himiko and had time to analyze it, watched tensely, her eyes flicking between me and Toga.

I gave her the universal “okay” sign with my fingers. “Don’t worry, I’m in control of the situation.”

I wish I actually felt that way.

We rounded the corner of the gym, and Toga looked around, choosing a direction. She seemed to be searching for a quiet spot. I gently unhooked her hand from my sleeve, indicating that I’d walk on my own.

U.A.’s grounds were filled with greenery, well-kept trees, lawns, and flowerbeds. The sports field where we had just been was surrounded by a park. I expected her to take me there, but instead, she led me to a small gymnastic area surrounded by climbing walls on three sides.

Still, a fairly public place.

Maybe I’m underestimating her?

I brushed against a bush, feeling a slight sting. There was no one around, just silence, with only the distant sound of commands being shouted in the background. Here, we were alone.

We walked past the first climbing wall, entering a “box” filled with various obstacles. Toga suddenly turned to face me fully.

She froze in a strange pose—hunched, arms limp at her sides, knees slightly inward. She licked her lips, staring at my hand. I followed her gaze with a surprise and saw a small scratch, with a bead of blood forming where I had brushed against the bush.

I slowly wiped the blood away, watching her.

She muttered to herself:

“...not enough. Not enough blood…”

I’ll have to pick up some garlic on the way home.

“My name is Niren Shoda. What did you want to talk about?”

The girl blinked and then grinned again.

“Yes! Yes! You’re just like me!”

“Meani—”

“Living is hard!” she exclaimed, clenching her fists against her chest. “I want to make the world simpler and easier! So I can live honestly and openly! That’s what you were talking about when we first met at school, right? ‘Make the world bend to your will!’ I remembered!”

I’d wondered why she acted so brazenly in our first class when she could have easily played the role of a sweet, obedient girl.

It’s because she doesn’t want to hide anymore. Well, I guess that stone would have started rolling anyway—it’s just that I pushed it in a different direction.

Or was it the same?

“Yes, I said something like that.”

“People make everything complicated,” Toga pouted. In the U.A. uniform and with her twin buns, she somehow looked perfectly normal. For now. “You can’t be yourself, you can’t be honest… even though everyone is hunting for something—friends, a partner, a job, a group… people will do anything for that, even crush others’ hopes. But they pretend they don’t!”

I nodded silently. It wasn’t that I agreed completely, but in this conversation, I needed to be on her side.

“They say they value honesty and sincerity!” She suddenly darkened. “But when I tell people honestly what I want, they don’t accept me! They said I was ‘sick’... that I needed to be ‘cured.’ But all I wanted was to share what I found beautiful! Why do their opinions matter, but mine don’t?”

Her voice dropped, and she tilted her head:

“Tell me, do you think I’m sick?”

I paused before shaking my head.

And yes, that was an honest answer. I believe her twisted psyche is a direct result of her quirk. In that case, her psychosis is her normal, optimal state… according to the quirk. Or maybe, the omnipotent entity that grants us these quirks has its own agenda.

“But I don’t want to hide anymore! I don’t want to be ‘cured’! I am who I am. Why should I have to hide? I was ready to drop the mask back then, the one I wore for so long, and finally become who I wanted to be... and then I met you. Now I like you! I want us to be friends!”

Her face was flushed, trembling slightly. Her eyes were fixed on me. If she had a tail, it would’ve been swishing back and forth.

“I like you, Niren-kun! I can feel it—you’ll soon be covered in blood from head to toe! You’re just like me, aren’t you? You’re pretending! I want to be friends with you. I want to know everything about you! I want to talk with you… and…”

Her animal-like intuition was giving me chills. My voice was hoarse as I asked:

“And something else?”

She swayed from side to side, intertwining her fingers:

“I want to be you. I want to cut you. I want to drink all your blood… first to see it cover your body and the ground around you,” Toga dreamily closed her eyes, hugging herself. “And then drink it all, down to the last drop!”

I carefully reminded her:

“If you drink all my blood, I’ll die, won’t I?”

Toga bared her teeth. Now she looked insane—insane enough that I could believe this schoolgirl had killed people with the same grin.

“You won’t die, because I’ll become you!”

That didn’t land. Let’s try again:

“But you wanted to be friends with me, didn’t you, Toga?”

“Yes… the best-best of friends!” she jumped like a cheerleader, bending her knees and spreading her arms wide.

“But friends don’t do things like that, Toga,” I said, hoping for the best but preparing for the worst. I removed my jacket and carefully hung it on a nearby climbing hook, left only in my sleeveless shirt.

“Why not?” She tapped her finger against her lips, as if deep in thought. “You’re my good friend. Aren’t you friends with me, Niren-kun?”

“Because you’re not considering what others want. What if I don’t want to bleed out?”

“You just haven’t tried it yet,” Himiko answered with certainty.

I suddenly heard voices beyond the wall—turning my head toward the sound and momentarily breaking eye contact.

The moment Toga pulled out a knife—not just any blade, but, as I later learned, a Hattori Ultra combat boot knife, issued to Japanese special forces—I missed.

She lunged at me like lightning. One moment, she was there—then...

I barely dodged her wide overhead slash.

Barely didn’t count.

Did you think I predicted the strike by analyzing her stance, the direction of the wind, or “Mars shining bright tonight”? Or that I saw it reflected in the knife blade, or something else far-fetched?

Of course not. I just put a marker on her hand when we were walking here.

Though I seemed to avoid the flashing blade, I still felt a searing pain in my shoulder. Blood dripped onto the ground. A quick glance revealed that she had slashed through my uniform sleeve, my epidermis, dermis, and even into the muscle.

Damn, I knew she was dangerous. But this dangerous…

Damn it, how did that happen? I was sure—

Wait. A step-in with a simultaneous thrust, followed by an upward strike, I’ve seen this before…

Toga jumped back, rolling her eyes in ecstasy, licking the blood off her blade.

Meanwhile, I was trying to figure out why her movements seemed so familiar. I had never formally studied knife combat; I’d only seen a few demonstrations from experts, particularly my first master at the dojo where I trained in my early years—Toga-sensei, who, among other things, taught knife combat and hand-to-hand techniques to military officers under contract.

“To-ga”… that’s a surname… and he was blonde…

“A-ha!” The realization hit like a supernova.

Oh, these aren’t “similar” movements—they’re the exact same strikes!

Toga-sensei had mentioned having a “problematic daughter”...

“Oh my god… I could’ve met her back then… maybe even saved her from her quirk and loneliness…”

I heard my voice from afar:

“That’s not a very nice thing to do.”

At this moment, Toga didn’t respond. Because it wasn’t Toga. Now, standing before me, was my pirate copy, with the last vestiges of the quirk’s pseudopodia disappearing from her skin.

"I" smiled in a very unsettling way, and with a scream of, “Niren-kun, I’m so happy! So happy! Your blood is so delicious!” she lunged at me, slashing the air with her knife.

Watching myself—especially like this—from the outside was incredibly creepy. The resemblance to a cheap pirate knockoff was only enhanced by the fact that Himiko’s quirk not only transformed her body but also her clothing. I noticed how her uniform “melted” into mine, like molten wax.

We circled each other, Toga craving more of my blood, while I wasn’t exactly eager to share it.

I tried to appeal to her reasoning—she was attacking a classmate with a knife on the very first day…

But she wasn’t listening. Himiko acted like a wild animal, lunging at me repeatedly for more blood, leaving me a bit at a loss.

“Toga, you…”

“I don’t want to change, I don’t want to hide, I don’t want to suppress myself!” Her voice was high-pitched, irritated, and childlike, as if she were a little kid covering her ears to avoid hearing their parents’ scolding.

The absurdity of the situation was only heightened by the fact that it was my voice—her quirk had even copied that.

Too bad Yui and Setsuna weren’t here; they would’ve had an unforgettable existential crisis...

I narrowly dodged a sharp jab, as if from a rapier. Toga’s knife skills were exceptional.

Thoughts of knocking her out as quickly as possible started to swirl in my head. I wasn’t made of steel—what if she seriously hurt me? Should I activate a marker on her arm when she gets close, trip her, and pin her down? Force her to listen?

Yeah, brilliant plan.

But first… if she’s acting like an animal…

I needed a leash.

I accelerated and went on the offensive, grabbing her knife hand and locking it in place. Toga struggled—no doubt skilled at breaking out of holds—but I’d already gotten what I needed.

With her knife hand secured, I cut my own palm.

I winced. It wasn’t pleasant, but I could bear it.

Jumping back, I thrust my bloodied hand toward Toga, who tilted her head in surprise, and I curtly said:

“Drink. Lick it off.”

Toga froze, hesitating—her script had clearly broken. She replied, uncertainly:

“Huh? Huuuh? But I’m not an animal…”

“Yes, you are an animal,” I shot back, “if you can’t control your desires. I never asked you to suppress them, but you’re like a little kid who wants candy but refuses to use the bathroom. Where’s this childishness coming from?”

“But I like Niren… I really, really want to be him!”

“Well, Niren doesn’t like you like this! Control yourself, you’re a rational being!”

“No, no, no, no, no, I want it NOW!” Toga exploded, no longer smiling. “I want MORE! Blood, blood, blood, drink, drink…”

I began pulling my hand away, but she leaped forward...

A large, soft, slightly pink fluffy cloud suddenly appeared between us.

Toga jumped back, and we both turned to the side with matching irritation.

Turns out, we had an audience.

The voices I’d heard earlier belonged to another class of upper-year students, likely here for a lesson. They had frozen upon seeing us, but not all of them: a cute girl with soft pink hair stepped forward and created the fluffy cloud between us.

“Are you okay?” she asked me calmly.

“Yeah, totally fine,” I muttered darkly. Great.

How was I going to get Toga out of this? What was I supposed to say? And if a teacher saw this? Attacking a classmate with a knife, even in this world where the definition of normal was stretched beyond belief, was too much. If they put her under surveillance or did a proper interview… a psych evaluation? They’d expel her on the spot…

Toga moved around the cloud—naturally, I saw her maneuver and shook my head in warning—but it seemed she had completely lost her grasp on what was acceptable and what wasn’t. She nearly reached me, raising the blade when...

With a loud “WHOOSH”, something white flew past me, and the “dark Niren” figure was suddenly entangled in white ribbons, arms and legs bound. I turned once again.

Aizawa. His eyes glowing, hair standing on end, with his tail raised high like a flagpole (kidding)—yep, he was using his quirk.

“What’s going on here?” he asked, sticking to the classics.

“Training,” I answered curtly, praying to every god that they’d just leave us alone and give me a chance to connect with her. If we lost such a valuable asset, I’d tear my hair out in frustration!

“No, no, no…” Himiko started muttering again, struggling against Aizawa’s bindings.

And then…

To be honest, I’m not sure how I realized what was about to happen before anyone else. Maybe I remembered something from the anime. Or maybe I just processed the information faster.

Either way, here’s what happened.

Picture this: you have one Toga Himiko, tied up because she poses a danger to other students. Toga’s quirk is currently giving her someone else’s appearance, transforming her and her clothes. You have a whole class of upper-year students—twenty of them—watching. Sometimes, all it takes to ruin someone’s life is an audience. And you have one Aizawa’s quirk, which cancels out others’ quirks.

Toga’s disguise—the appearance of me—melted off her in chunks of gray doe, leaving her not only unmasked but entirely without clothing.

With her arms and legs tied, unable to cover herself.

Under the eyes of over twenty people.

A moment of stunned silence. Then a sob broke through.

Oh, crap.

I shot past Aizawa at Iida-level speed, making him recoil, and threw my jacket over Toga, covering her naked body with the blue fabric. Only at that moment did Aizawa remove his ribbons, forcing me to hold the jacket in place, effectively hugging the sexy psycho who had just tried to stab and eat me.

Absolutely perfect.

Heroes, huh. Just standing there, watching...

Like any ordinary girl, Toga stood there, blushing furiously, softly whimpering, trying to both wrap herself in the too-small jacket and wipe away her tears.

After a quick scan of my surroundings, I chose the best exit and led her away, skirting the group of shocked students.

“Do you always plan your actions this well?” I shot at Aizawa sarcastically as I passed.

I swear by all gods and demons, he actually looked a bit embarrassed.

Illustrations:

Where they went: the red arrow shows the path, and the blue arrow marks the approximate location (behind the gym and surrounded by trees).

Actually, Toga isn’t a yandere; she’s a typical harem series character who just really needs the protagonist.

Yes, she can cry too.

The girl with soft pink hair and the cloud quirk (more details in chapter twelve-something). At some point, my readers and I debated whether her hair color is closer to romantic sakura or not-so-romantic raw chicken.

The class of that pink-haired girl at U.A.

Finally, the canon moment that inspired this chapter: Toga explaining her quirk and confirming that it transforms her clothes along with her, leaving her without them after the transformation ends.

Why include this screenshot? To demonstrate that before she completely lost her marbles in canon (around Twice's death, maybe), she was still capable of feeling human embarrassment.

Author's Note:

This chapter was a nightmare to write. I wracked my brain trying to figure out where they should go, who they should meet, and how. I rewatched clips of Himiko https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=WIgSjC44IPI and reread her wiki https://myheroacademia.fandom.com/wiki/Himiko_Toga because she’s not your typical yandere, and writing her accurately was exhausting. I ended up working all night, occasionally dozing off, and I don’t even want to know how much sleep I actually got. Anyway, sending good vibes and tomatoes your way! (Why tomatoes?)