Chapter Text
Himiko woke up with a yawn, uncurling from where she’d fallen asleep clutching her school bag. She blinked, staring at dark green walls that definitely would have caused her parents to freak out if they ever saw something like that in their house, so obviously she wasn’t at home. She yawned again, clumsily rubbing the sleep from her eyes, wondering why her limbs felt so heavy. She rolled off the mattress, dragging herself to her feet; she tried to stretch, putting her hands together and pulling them as far above her head as possible, rising on her tiptoes to get just a bit further, but she just succeeded in falling backwards onto the mattress. Her nose twitched, picking up the smell of blood, some part dried, some part faded like it had been washed away, but still stinking rotten, her nose wrinkled, wondering where that smell was coming from.
She didn’t have to wonder long, it just took one look at her school bag to tell her, with small brown stains where blood-soaked hands had carried it, who knows how long ago. That’s right, she wasn’t at home, not after what she’d done. She raised a hand up to her face, examining each of her fingers, seeing the way the faint stain of blood discoloured her skin, seeing the way it almost seemed to come to life and drip down her hand, it was mesmerizing.
There was a quiet knocking on the door, she nearly didn’t hear it, but it was enough to snap her out of her reverie. She wondered who it was, she didn’t think either of the two heroes were capable of walking up to the door without her noticing, not with their size, but who knows. Also, she was certain that she hadn’t locked the door when she went to sleep, so why bother knocking in the first place? The knock came again, a little louder, but still as quiet as a mouse.
“Hello?” Himiko called, wondering what was going on, she got up and opened the door. It took a few moments for her brain to recognize Kan without its costume, but once she did, she gave a hesitant smile.
“Hey kid, glad to see you’re up,” Kan gestured for her to follow it, “you slept the whole day you know? It’s nearly nine pm.”
Himiko frowned, she hadn’t meant to sleep that long, it was just going to be a little nap, Kan had said it would explain some stuff after she slept, and now she’d gone and made it have to wait until well into the night. Kan seemed to pick up on her irritation, and it didn’t seem too upset, “don’t fuss about it, you didn’t sleep last night, and with, well, everything, you looked like you really needed the rest.”
Well, she supposed that was true, even if it wasn’t really helping her feel any better about all of this. She followed it to the living room, immediately catching the attention of Desmo, who came trotting up, wagging her stubby tail. Himiko quickly set her school bag aside and knelt down to give Desmo some pets and head scritches, the dog didn’t seem to mind the blood on her hands, panting happily. Kan seemed to approve of this, quietly chuckling to itself before heading to the kitchen.
“Hey Ryo, Toga’s awake,” it called, and Inui poked his head out of one of the two rooms Himiko didn’t know about, a study maybe? Or the main bedroom?
“Oh, hi there,” Inui tilted his head in greeting, one ear turning towards Himiko while the other stayed locked on Kan.
She was just about to reply, when the smell of food hit her nose, and her stomach started growling, she immediately turned around to see that Kan had put a bowl of soup on the table. She stared at it for a moment, then, glanced at Kan, who just smiled, or, as much as one could smile with tusks like that.
“I know you didn’t have anything to eat since at least last night, considering you slept thorough breakfast, lunch and dinner. So we saved something in case you woke up before morning,” it explained, noticing that she was hesitant to eat.
Himiko was still reluctant, all the manners that had been taught to her said that you shouldn’t just take someone else’s food, but if it was offering, she supposed that didn’t matter anymore. She picked up the spoon, careful not to handle it too much, otherwise the blood staining her hands could stain it too. As she ate, it seemed her body finally caught up to just how hungry it was, she nearly burnt her tongue trying to gulp down the reheated soup. Eventually she forced herself to slow down, remembering her mother’s admonishments that eating too much on a hungry stomach can make you throw up, and she definitely didn’t want to waste Kan and Inui’s kindness.
Her ears also picked up the sounds of whispering, even if she couldn’t hear exactly what the adults were saying, she glanced at them from out of the corner of her eye, noting that Kan had a very worried look on its face. And, eventually, Inui muttered something back and nodded, whatever he said was clearly helpful as Kan visibly relaxed, huh, she wondered what that was all about.
When she finished eating, she realised that the only person left in the room was Inui, somehow, Kan had left without making enough noise for her to notice, where was it? Didn’t it say it was going to explain everything? Inui must have noticed her confusion because he sighed, “relax, it’s still around, I just convinced it to go to bed,” that, wasn’t really why she was concerned, but good to know she supposed.
“Um, so, how strict exactly is ‘strict supervision’ in my case?” She asked, taking a seat on the couch and observing Inui walk around.
Inui’s ear flicked, although what that meant, Himiko had no idea about, she didn’t know much about dogs, “well, it’s like house arrest, but, you know, you haven’t been convicted yet,” he was clearly trying to word this carefully, in a way that she’d understand.
“So I have to stay indoors, for the whole week?” She asked, to which Inui nodded, “oh, that’s,” she furrowed her brow, fiddling with the hem of her skirt, and stopping before it got stained from her hands, “does that mean you two have to stay at home too, since you’re supposed to be watching me?”
“Well, at least one of us has to be here to keep an eye on you, but that just means that if one of us leaves the other can’t go until whoever left comes back,” Inui explained, “most likely, that’s going to be me.”
Himiko hummed curiously, “you? Why?”
Inui chuckled, seemingly amused by her questions, “because Sekijiro has a class to teach, and I think Shouta would actually murder it if he had to deal with both hero course classes at once.”
“Class?” Himiko asked, and then, “wait, Kan and Aizawa work at the same place?”
“Oh, did Izuku not tell you?” Inui asked, genuinely surprised, “I thought they’d at least mention that most of our family works at UA.”
Himiko’s eyes widened, awestruck, “huh, really?” No wonder Izuku was so awesome, they’d probably been training for years! Maybe even at UA!
Inui huffed, seemingly used to this reaction, “maybe it’ll talk about its former students if you ask nicely enough.” He looked at Himiko, and she wondered why he seemed so curious, or if that expression was curiosity at all.
Finally, after a moment, he asked, “are you alright Toga?”
Himiko blinked, “um, yeah, why?”
Inui’s ear flicked again, “just wondering, you seem a little, spacey, didn’t know if that was normal for you.”
Himiko wasn’t sure what that meant, sure, she liked to daydream a lot, but she wasn’t sure if she’d been called ‘spacey’ since she was a kid, and she hadn’t noticed drifting off more than normal. Then again, she hadn’t noticed a lot of things today, even while she was awake. Oh. “Huh, I guess?”
Inui tilted his head, “well no-one’s going to blame you for that, not after the day you’ve had.”
Himiko frowned, she knew she should be super affected by, well, killing her own parents, but, every time she reached for something, anything, to feel about this, she came up empty handed. So really, that couldn’t be it, if her being spacey was because of what she’d done, she’d be able to tell, she’d feel scared, or sad, or any of the other thing that the lady who once came to her school to talk about mental health said were the reasons people got weird after traumatic incidents. “But,” she began, before remembering that this was very much something that she should feel horrible about, and saying that she didn’t would probably just add another reason why she was all messed up.
Inui stared at her for a moment, waiting for her to continue, “but?” He prompted, then, when seeing that Himiko had no intentions to respond, “it’s alright, nobody’s going to be mad, I won’t tell anyone, alright?’
Himiko stared at him, surprised at the sudden softness in his voice, “um, I,” she turned away, cheeks burning in shame, “I’m supposed to feel bad about what I did, right?” Inui hummed, asking her to continue. “Well, I, I don’t know, I don’t think I feel bad about it, but I should, so I must be feeling terrible, right?”
“I don’t know,” Inui shrugged, “there’s a lot of ways people can feel about stressful things, sometimes, that means feeling nothing at all.”
Himiko stared down at her lap, “but that’s going to go away soon, right, and then I’ll feel awful about it?’
“Not always,” Inui explained patiently, “sometimes it takes a few hours, sometimes weeks, and sometimes, it never goes away at all.”
“So, I might just, never feel anything about what I did?” She asked, wondering why that thought made her so upset. A tiny voice somewhere in her mind told her that it was because this meant that everyone in her family was right, and she was a cold-hearted monster.
“Or you might feel something tomorrow morning, there’s not really a way to tell.”
Himiko huffed, going quiet. She heard a quiet whine and Desmo jumped on the couch, putting her head in Himiko’s lap and looking at her like she knew something was wrong. Himiko smiled, petting Desmo, ‘what a smart doggie,’ she thought. Then, she pulled her hand away, staring at Desmo’s fur.
Inui leaned against the arm of the couch, looking curiously, “you know,” he said, “she’s not going to bite you, go ahead.”
“I don’t want to get her dirty,” Himiko muttered.
“Why would petting her get her dirty?” Inui asked.
Himiko frowned, “what do you mean ‘why?’ Look,” she showed him her hands, “they’re still stained.”
Inui’s eyes widened for a moment, and then they softened, “Toga,” he began, with a tone that sounded like he thought if he said something wrong he’d scare her, “your hands are perfectly clean, you washed all the blood away this morning, remember?”
Himiko shook her head, “but, but it’s there, I can see it!”
Inui moved closer, sitting on the couch next to her, “well, then maybe I can’t see it,” he held out his own hands, and Himiko reluctantly placed her hands in his. Inui carefully examined her hands, though she had a feeling he didn’t actually think the bloodstains were there. “Nope,” he said finally, “no blood that I can see.”
“But then, why?” Why could she still see her hands soaked red?
“It happens sometimes, our brains like to play tricks on us, especially when we’re stressed, and sometimes, our brains like to remember things without telling us they’re remembering.” He pulled his hands away, they were clean, as if he hadn’t just been holding her bloody hands, but, she’d seen it.
“Remembering?” Himiko examined her hands again, wondering if the crimson flowing down them wasn’t real after all. She frowned, flowing? Earlier it was just coating her hands. And, if she thought hard enough, it had just seemed like the faintest of stains when she woke up. Maybe Inui was right, and her mind was playing a trick on her.”
“Even if you don’t feel anything, that doesn’t mean what happened doesn’t still mean something to you, and your brain is reminding you of that,” he explained, “it’s so hung up on that memory that it’s doing its best to make you remember, even making you see, hear, smell, or feel things as if you were back in that moment.”
Himiko frowned, “but I don’t like that, how do I make it stop?” She asked, tears beginning to well in her eyes. Desmo whimpered and pushed her head against Himiko’s side.
“You, don’t,” Inui explained, “you can’t just force your brain to stop remembering, but you can learn to recognize it, and to ask for help when you think it’s happening.”
“Help? Why?”
“Because even if you can’t tell that your brain is doing something that’s hurting you, someone else can, and they can help you realise too,” Inui gestured at Himiko’s hands, and she looked, noticing that the blood seemed, less real than it had a moment ago, she couldn’t feel it anymore, and it was looking transparent and then, gone.
“Oh,” she said, staring at her pristine hands, “thank you,” she trailed off, unsure of what to do now.
Inui tilted his head, “if you think your brain’s tricking you like that again, let me or Seki know, alright?”
Himiko nodded silently, suddenly very glad she had someone like Inui around.