Himiko's story begins! A huge thank you for the reviews, favs and follows. It really helped me push through this chapter. I literally changed the beginning of this chapter like 20 times lol but I'm pretty satisfied with how it turned out. You'll see I threw a few characters in here. I didn't want this turning into My OC Academia.

A forewarning, this is probably the darkest the story will get, or at least for a while. I'm really testing that T rating with this chapter. Please enjoy!

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Chapter One - A Girl's Value

"She's so scary up close."

"What a weirdo."

"Nee nee, Vampire-san. Is it true you killed somebody?"

"I can't believe I'm looking at a future villain!"

"Creepy."

The group of classmates surrounded Himiko as if she were a macabre art exhibit. The children had amassed during break and managed to corner her against the wall. While pranks, rumored whispers and crass remarks were a normal part of the pre-teen's routine, this was something else entirely. Panic grew within the girl. She sensed their restlessness as she refused to humor them.

It was the near-end of sixth grade for Himiko Toga. She was happily prepared to become an alumna and put these six difficult years behind her. Earlier in the week, their teacher handed out a mock final exam. The purpose, the instructor explained, was to give them a taste of Junior High. Himiko's perfect score, posted in bold across the bulletin board, stirred the classroom's attention. Several curious students took the opportunity to approach the girl. What started off as a casual conversation soon turned spiteful.

The bolder students moved in closer, invading her personal space. Himiko was flush against the wall. She shivered from the cold concrete.

"Don't get too close! She'll steal your life force!" An attendee humorously exclaimed.

"Grab her," Another one ordered.

Two female students snatched both her arms and pulled her forward, keeping her in place.

"Open her mouth!"

One of the girls happily obliged and forced her lips apart. Himiko nearly gasped at the contact. The simultaneous chatter and laugher throughout the group became unintelligible.

"Wow, look at those canines! I wonder what would happen if she bit you."

"No wonder she's called 'Vampire-san!'"

"I heard something crazy happens when she drinks blood."

"I've never seen her use her quirk, now that I think about it."

"School's almost over. Let's try it now before Sensei gets back!"

"Who wants to do it?"

"Not me."

"Me neither."

"No way! I don't want to die."

"Someone's gotta do it."

"Inasa will! Let me get him."

The audience impatiently waited for their unknowing volunteer. Himiko felt sweat cascade down the back of her neck and hastily searched the crowd for an opening. The blonde struggled against the talon-like grips of the girls and soon realized their activated quirks left her trapped. She continued her futile efforts until she eventually went limp from overexertion, 'Pathetic. I'm so weak and pathetic.'

"I am here and I sincerely apologize for the delay! I heard someone needs help?"

The boisterous classmate stepped forward when the audience cleared a path for him. The restrained blonde gazed up at the enthusiastic boy and frowned.

Inasa Yoarashi. There were two types of people in Himiko's world: bullies who were mean to your face and bullies who pretended to be nice. Inasa Yoarashi was the latter. She perceived him as a dim witted, passionate and immature kid. He was incredibly popular and everything Himiko wasn't. His whirlwind of a quirk was unprecedentedly strong. It was an esteemed quirk that appropriately belonged to an aspiring hero, while hers was shrouded in misery and villainhood. Her desire to have a quirk like his always left her feeling jealous and sick. Regardless of the boy's continual attempts at striking conversation throughout the years, Himiko kept the same distance she maintained with everyone in her class. Her experiences taught her well. Sooner or later, his ugliness would show. It was about time Inasa would launch his strike and contribute to the students' taunting.

The pre-teen who originally summoned Inasa pleaded, "We really, really, really need your help, Inasa-kun! Vampir- I mean, Toga-san wants to show us her really awesome quirk and we need someone to participate! We're hoping you can do it for us?"

"Toga Himiko-san?" Inasa's expression brightened, "With pleasure!" He faltered, "I mean, we're prohibited from using our quirks in school."

"Sensei said we could now that the mock exams are over," The student covered.

"In that case I'll gladly and earnestly help a fellow student!" His smile returned and focused on Himiko. The girl looked away.

"Piece of cake," One student whispered loud enough for Himiko to catch.

"Thank Endeavor for that," The second one chucked in reply.

"Great!" The student exclaimed, "Just point your finger at Toga-san and don't move a muscle. We'll handle the rest."

As instructed, Inasa exaggeratedly pointed his index finger in the girl's direction and froze in place. It would've been a comical sight had Himiko not noticed a schoolmate approach the boy with a pair of scissors. Her eyes widened once she concluded the intentions of her class. Her lethargy disappeared as her earlier panic increased tenfold.

She had to get out of this room and away from everyone - now. They were trying to humiliate her. They were going to cut his finger. They were going to make him bleed. She needed to hold her breath or she was going to-

"Ow!"

The familiar scent of iron hit her like a freight train. It was too late. Himiko fortuitously inhaled. A pleasant warmth she was unable to understand swelled in her abdomen and spread to her cheeks. A lightheaded, airy feeling made her dizzy and euphoric. Her developing heart hammered violently against her tiny chest. Rhyme and reason left her as the bead of red liquid grew in size and expelled from its warm-bodied enclosure. She delicately learned in closer to the small puncture, seeking purchase. Her breathing became labored at the breathtaking sight.

Himiko salivated. It was just a taste, right? Just a taste.

Just a taste.

"It's so nice, so pretty," An eerie smile coated her face.

She listened to Inasa swallow loudly. Realizing his lack of recoil, she cautiously moved closer. Himiko broke eye contact with the bloodied digit and hazily seeked his eyes for permission. His expression was serious and his cheeks were flushed, but in her stupor she couldn't read him.

"I just want a little bit. May I?" The girl licked her mouth.

Inasa gave an inch and Himiko took a foot. The ruby digit entered her mouth. She sucked and drank and hummed in contentment. It was so warm. She was warm. The similar yet unique liquid danced and melded with her own. It felt so nice to finally feel again. The sensation felt so real - so frustratingly perfect and wrong and right.

This was who she was and what she was meant to do.

"T-T-Toga Himiko-san." Inasa stuttered in his languor, "Th-the t-truth is, I- I have always-"

Registering the distant sound of the boy's voice, Himiko's vision cleared and reality made sense again. She shockingly pulled back from the boy and his finger, breaking the contact with a "pop" from her lips. Golden eyes circled the silent room of half-stunned and half-embarrassed students. Shame washed over her.

Himiko's quirk instantly activated. She felt her composition mold into something foreign. Her joints felt flexible and rubbery before they melted away. A greasy and gray substance surfaced, acting as a curtain before the final act to a stage play. She felt the fibers, skin, tissues, bone and muscle render their mission as the gray liquid dissipated to reveal a mirror image of the boy standing before her. Not a single detail was overlooked.

Thereafter, she fainted, taking the wisps of wind with her.

"No, no, no, no, NO!" Himiko yelled at the top of her lungs to no one.

Her bedroom was in disarray. Books, clothing and fluffy stuffed animals were haphazardly thrown throughout her space. A concoction of anger, shame and embarrassment flooded her growing body. The earlier events from today left her traumatized and manic. She ignored the protests of her sore throat and continued her obnoxious rampage.

Himiko could handle her burdens. She could handle the harsh writings on her desk, the soiling of her gym uniforms, the intentionally loosened screws in her desk chair, the crazy rumors and inappropriate questions. Today, they took it to an unexpected level and violated her inside and out. Their reactions to her quirk cut like glass and besieged her with the residue of a vivid nightmare. She wondered if she'd ever forget this day.

"Everyone is so stupid! Life is so unfair! I hate it. I hate everything!"

In the middle of her tantrum, Himiko paused and stared at her closet. Deep within resided her modest knife collection stowed in an ornate cherrywood box. She exhaled and retrieved it. Days like these were when she'd remove the container from storage and hold it close to her chest. Ever since she was a child, she found a strange interest in the bladed cutlery. They were a man-made creation with a rich history of violence and survival. Perhaps it was the sense of control. A wielder of such tools could tear skin and shed blood in a second if they so pleased. When she held one by its steel-coated handle, she felt powerful and astute; different from how she felt in society and around her classmates.

"I'm home!" The angelic voice of her mother called out.

Himiko jumped and scrambled to return the box to its secure spot. She stepped out of her bedroom and shut her door before her mother could find the mess.

"Welcome home!" She grinned.

"How was school? Did you do well on your mock exam?" Hitomi asked as she removed her oxfords.

"I got a perfect score."

Her mother beamed, "Really? Himiko, that's amazing! I don't know how I managed to have such an intelligent daughter. You have no idea how proud you make me."

"Thanks, Mommy."

Hitomi kissed her daughter on the forehead. Himiko almost cried.

Hitomi Toga was the brightest light in Himiko's bleak world. Her mother was her astounding advocate and caretaker. Every day, she witnessed her mother's tenacity to make ends meet and cherish her. She was a woman to genuinely admire. Mothers were heroes of their own caliber and Hitomi was the perfect mom.

Himiko didn't deserve her.

Hitomi went to prepare a loving and hearty meal in their tiny kitchen. In the meantime, Himiko retreated to her room to clean up the evidence of her episode. The pleasant aroma of her mother's home cooking suddenly made the pre-teen ill. They sat down for dinner. The girl fiddled the sticky rice with her chopsticks, not having much of an appetite. The television was on and broadcasted a repeat of All Might's historical debut. Himiko frowned and focused on her plate of food.

"Your birthday's tomorrow. Is there anything special you'd like to do?" Hitomi questioned.

"Nothing really."

"Are you sure?"

"Mhm."

"Okay, sweetie. I can't believe you're going to be thirteen. It feels like you were in diapers just yesterday. What happened to my baby?" The mother gushed.

Himiko hummed and continued playing with her food.

"Don't play with your food, please," Hitomi lightly scolded. Himiko forced the food in her mouth to appease her mother. They both fell into silence.

"The school might call," Himiko stated between bites.

"What for?" Hitomi tensed and set her chopsticks aside.

"I passed out and ended up at the nurses office."

"What? You passed out? Are you all right?" Her mother exasperated, "Why hasn't the school called me sooner?"

"It was just a little bit of anemia," Himiko lied.

"Little or not, I requested time and time again for them to call me if something happens to you. This is ridiculous. I'm calling the administrators right now. I'm so sick of their carelessness," Hitomi stood from her seat in the middle of their meal.

"Mommy, stop it! Let it go, I'm fine," Himiko protested. "It was only for a minute."

"You're not an afterthought, Himiko!"

"Mom, I said stop!" Himiko yelled desperately.

The blonde woman ignored her pleas and marched straight to their house phone. Himiko remained seated. She knew her mom's protectiveness was an unstoppable force. Before Hitomi could dial, the phone started to ring. Her mother jumped unexpectedly but immediately collected herself. It was evident she didn't recognize the number on caller ID.

"Hello, this is the Toga residence," She answered professionally.

Himiko sweat dropped.

Hitomi's expression lightened as she focused on her daughter, "Himiko? Yes, she's here. May I ask who's calling?"

Himiko's eyebrows scrunched. A phone call for her? That was certainly a first.

"Oh of course!" Hitomi covered the receiver with her hand, looked at her daughter and smiled with tight lips, "Himiko, a student from your class who would like to speak with you. Yoarashi Inasa? He seems like a nice boy."

Whatever remaining normalcy Himiko had left to her day combusted. Unsure how to react, the blonde girl stood from her seat and raced to her bedroom. She locked the door behind her.

Tears threatened their fall as the fresh memory set itself on replay. She knew the boy was calling to tease her. He'd call her a pervert and vampire otaku like the other students did. He'd say her quirk was predisposed to villainy. The place she felt the safest was invaded. There was nowhere she could go. She wrapped her arms around herself and sunk her knees into the floor, shaking.

"I'm sorry, she's not available to speak right now. Yes ... yes ... I'll let her know you called. Thank you, you as well. Goodbye."

Himiko was thankful her mother knew how to read a situation. But she wasn't off the hook just yet. Her mother bee lined to her bedroom.

Hitomi knocked on the door, "What was that about, sweetie?"

"N-nothing!" She cursed at her weak reply, "Go away!"

"Himiko, I'm sorry. I may not be the perfect mother, nor aware of what's always happening, but I'm on your side, okay? I'm here and I want to listen," Hitomi cried.

Himiko knew this tactic well. Her mother would play victim to make her daughter step forward and deny her claims. It was sneaky, but it was smart and it always worked. Himiko adored her mom, after all. Hitomi was a wonderful mother, and she knew the girl better than anyone else. Himiko wanted to argue, but she couldn't; she was just too tired.

The blonde pre-teen knew of her mother's awareness to the severe bullying she faced on a daily basis. Hitomi was heavily invested in her well-being. There were nights where she listened to her mother cry herself to sleep. In those vulnerable evenings, Himiko would want to disappear and finally ease her mother's worry.

"Mom, I'm sorry," Himiko inaudibly whispered. 'I'm meant to be a villain.'

Himiko put on her best facade and opened the door with a smile, "I'm sorry about that, Mommy! Yoarashi-kun is our class representative and wanted to see if I needed help with a project. I was just a little surprised that he called, but I'll talk to him tomorrow at school."

Hitomi searched her for falsehood, "If that's the truth, I'll accept it. If you're lying to me, I'll be very upset, Himiko. Come with me and let's finish dinner."

"I'm not hungry no more. I want to go to bed."

Hitomi sighed, "Okay. I'll draw your bath. It'll be ready in a few. Goodnight, sweetie. Mommy loves you, Himiko."

"I love you too, Mommy."

Later that night, Hitomi wept. Himiko listened through the thin walls of their shared apartment. In her solitude, the young girl was reduced to her thoughts. Her mother's light sobs became white nose in the background. If the students were the heroes, Himiko was the conceded villain. She was a nuisance to her mother, her peers and her classmates. Her quirk was evidently and inherently evil. Her intense reaction to Inasa's blood was proof. Her obsession with knives was proof. Her isolation to the world was proof.

'I'm meant to be a villain.'

A villain. What did villains do? She knew they were evil and had quirks like hers. Everyone linked her to this one word which controlled the essence of her entire life. Did villains have resolve? Did they just accept fate? Should she just get it over with?

'I'm meant to be a villain.'

Himiko got out of bed, turned on the ceiling light, and looked at herself in the mirror. Staring back was the face of a villain. A creepy-looking, vampiric child of morbid folklore. Wide, golden eyes with harsh lines of blood-shot deprivation surrounded them. Tangled webs of golden, shoulder-length hair made her skin look pale and clammy. She tried to smile but it only added to her frightening image.

This was who she was and what she was meant to do.

That's what she thought when she consumed Inasa's blood.

'I'm meant to be a villain.'

Himiko searched her wardrobe for the appropriate attire. Villains wore black, right? That's what she remembered in her manga. While she normally steered towards vibrant colors, she pulled out and set aside black leggings, a black shirt, black boots and a black hoodie. She took out her knife collection and grabbed hold onto her favorite piece: a plain-edge fixed blade she named Margaret - or Maggie for short. The girl unsheathed the instrument and eyed the foggy reflection that bounced back from the steel. She sheathed the piece and delicately placed it on top of her clothing.

Himiko's devise was simple. Her mom left for work before her in the morning. Once she left, she would gather some necessities and make haste towards the station. She would head southbound beyond Tokyo. She'd station herself in a city reputable for its beacon of villain activity. She had to blend in once her crimes were committed.

In her thoughts, Himiko paused. What would be her first crime?

She looked at the innocent placement of Maggie and grinned maniacally. It was so simple.

She'd commit murder.

The hardest part of her plan was finding a way to tell her mother that she was going to be okay. Even in her psychosis, it was the least she could do. In addition, Himiko didn't want her mother to call the police if she suspected a kidnapping.

Himiko started to write a lengthy letter on how much she loved her mother, that she promised she'd be all right and that her abandonment was best for the both of them. She accepted who she was and her mother will never have to worry again. In her ramblings, tears clouded her vision and she was unable to continue writing. She ripped the parchment and scratched her head, distressed.

Upon second guessing herself, she admonished that there was no turning back. She affirmed this when her swollen-eyed mother kissed her this morning. This was for the best; Himiko was all in.

Running out of time, the letter was nixed and she departed. Her only paper trail was a simple, apologetic note.

She breathed in the dewey air and concealed herself with her hoodie, tightly pulling at the drawstrings. She navigated her hometown and kept herself away from suspicious eyes. The journey to Uwara station took about twenty minutes, where she purchased a ticket and waited at station three for the Takasaki Line towards Odawara.

As she made her transfers, she giggled to herself. Here she was: a villain in the making, doing something as common as riding the bullet train. In mere hours, she'll have blood on her hands. It was unsettling and made her realize how anyone could do what she was about to do. She glanced around the train in paranoia.

Her transfers and travels took approximately two and a half hours. The salty and unfamiliar air of the town reminded her of this new chapter in her life. The city she selected was Musutafu. She remembered it as the city which fostered the prestigious U.A. High School. In her conundrums of choosing a locale, she figured where heroes resided, so did villains in the shadows.

Himiko traveled to a busy section of town and stationed herself in an alleyway. She played with the drawstrings of her hoodie as she contemplated her first victim. It had to be someone weak, as she had zero tact. She was uninclined to hurting children or the elderly, but she knew she'd eventually grow out of that. Once her hands were dirty, she'd be unofficially initiated into the underground world of villain hood.

Idly, the young girl surveyed the passerbys. Everyone seemed so invested in their boring, quotidian lives. Himiko was jealous and started to miss home.

Hours later into the afternoon, Himiko found her target. She was a chubby, air-headed woman - perhaps in her mid-to-late thirties. Her green hair was half-tied up in a simple pony tail, acting as an indicator to her boring, quotidian life. Grocery bags were in each hand and the middle aged woman looked at nothing in particular. Himiko's jealousy from earlier in the day returned.

The pre-teen followed the woman for a few blocks, waiting for an opening. She heard her victim hum a tune she didn't recognize. The opportunity finally presented itself as Himiko held her breath and grabbed the woman by her cardigan. She jostled her into a dark alleyway and her groceries went flying.

Himiko placed her palm over the woman's mouth and restrained her in a chokehold, "If you scream, I'll kill you. Nod if you understand."

The woman nodded vigorously and Himiko let go. She turned the woman to face her and pushed her against a brick wall in between two commercial dumpsters. The woman's head impacted the sun-dried clay and she nearly fainted. Himiko was shocked at her own strength.

Maggie suddenly felt heavy in her pocket. An imaginative bell tolled in her head and she knew it was now or never. Himiko removed the weapon and unsheathed it. Liberation coursed through her body. She inched closer and licked her lips.

"W-wait! You said you wouldn't kill me!" The woman protested. She held out a small, chubby hand as a measure to create some distance.

"I said that?" She giggled and sneered, "Well, you should know better than to trust a villain, you silly old lady."

The woman started to cry.

'Mommy, why are you crying?' Himiko shook her head at the memory.

"P-please s-s-spare me," The woman begged. She clumsily grabbed a frugal amount of yen from her pocket and waved the currency around, "T-t-take this instead, please. Please don't hurt me."

Himiko paused for a second, but continued her hunting prowess, "I don't want your smelly money."

The woman cried as her pleas fell on deaf ears, "I- I have a son." She stared directly into the girl's eyes, "I- I'm all h-he has. I beg of you. I don't want to leave him. He'll be all alone. P-please!"

'Mommy loves you, Himiko.'

'I love you too, Mommy.'

The spell was broken. Himiko blinked through tears and the weapon left her grasp. The sharp clang of metal against pavement startled the both of them.

Himiko's hands started to shake and she brought them up to her face. What was she about to do? What in the ever living fuck was she about to do? Her mind went into hysterical overdrive.

"Run away," Himiko mumbled through her mania.

The woman ran and Himiko screamed.

Himiko Toga was lost. Her earlier pursuit sent her to the outskirts of the city. After letting the mother go, Himiko wandered the town in a fog. At the end of the day, she couldn't do it. She couldn't meet the expectations of hero nor villain. She was physically and mentally lost. She felt compelled to hide herself deeper within her hoodie.

In her forlorn musings, she stumbled across a small park that reserved a quarter of the block. Tired, she planted herself on a swing and gently swayed with it. The darkness from a new moon was prominent and she was homesick.

She unexpectedly felt the presence of someone. The rusty creaking of a neighboring swing told her that they sat down beside her. They swung in tandem. A small part of her enjoyed the company.

"What are you doing here?" The voice of a boy finally asked. From what she gathered, he was about her age.

"Thinking," Himiko replied.

"Me too."

Himiko sniffled and suddenly found trust in the mysterious boy, "I did something terrible. I'm lost and afraid. I was told all my life that I was going to be something I didn't want to be."

"And what's that?"

"It's my quirk."

"That didn't answer my question."

"It has to do with my quirk. Everyone says I'm going to become a villain with my quirk. When I drink the blood of somebody, I transform into them."

The boy paused and hummed in thought, "Sounds like a pretty cool quirk if you ask me."

Himiko's eyes widened, unable to register his response, "W-what did you just say?"

"I think your quirk is cool. Ugh. Don't make me say it twice or it sounds weird," He answered.

"It's not a cool quirk," She replied. "It's evil."

"It's only evil if you want it to be."

Himiko stopped swinging. She blinked twice. All her life, by professionals and everyday people alike, she was brainwashed into thinking that her quirk would set the foundation for her future. She was forced into believing that all people were defined by their quirks. A path to villainy was her destiny and there was zero room for argument.

Truthfully, she always felt a disconnect to that fate. Today affirmed her preconceived notions. As she stood before that woman, knife in hand, she remembered her mother. That woman said she had a son. Himiko couldn't kill her and the reason was obvious. She was a person, just like she and her mother, with her own feelings, her own story and her own troubles. Himiko couldn't rob somebody of that. Just because life wasn't fair to her didn't mean she should make it unjust to others. Himiko wasn't that kind of person. She wasn't a villain.

And here was this random boy, swinging next to her, saying the total opposite of what the world expected from her. Her heart swelled.

"You really think that?" Himiko questioned.

"I don't think it. I know it."

Humans existed long before quirks. Quirks were just an extension of humanity. The only person who was in control of their quirk was themself. One could do good or bad with it, but the choice was ultimately theirs to make.

"What do you want to be when you grow up?" Himiko asked suddenly.

"A hero."

Their conversation ended with the boy giving directions to Shizuoka station. The walk wasn't as far as she thought and she was happy to learn that she'd make the last train back home.

As the boy and girl parted ways, Himiko turned around, "Hey!"

The boy stopped, turned around, and silently waited on her response. Himiko removed her hood.

"I think you'll make a fantastic hero!" Himiko smiled sincerely with arms spread wide.

The boy walked away and scratched his head, clearly embarrassed. Himiko giggled. She never got his name nor could she make out his features in the darkness, but she knew the boy would become an outstanding hero. He just saved her life, after all.

"Miko-chan!"

"Pretty Kayama-sama?"

Himiko was almost home and ridden with fatigue. The last person she expected to see stood before her, panting. When Himiko thought of how long she must've been searching, guilt washed over her.

"Happy Thirteenth Birthday, Miko-chan," Nemuri Kayama congratulated.

The sense of normalcy overwhelmed Himiko. She ran into Nemuri's arms and cried.

...

"How could you do this, Himiko? What were you thinking? I was worried sick. Do you know how horrible I would've felt if something happened to you? You're my responsibility, Himiko! You're all I have in this world! Why would you do this? Please! Please, just value yourself!"

Himiko hoped the residual pain of her mother's strike would never go away. She wanted to carry that stinging sensation as a constant reminder that somebody loved her. She was so young and naive.

Her mother collapsed in front of her. Himiko gasped. Nemuri caught her mid-fall.

"Your mother was worried sick," Nemuri simply stated, carrying the unconscious woman on her back. She held Himiko's hand and the teenager wondered how she was so strong.

"I know."

"We searched all night for you."

"I know."

"She couldn't contact the police."

"I know."

"I know you know."

"I'm sorry."

"Your penance is to tell me what happened. I'll spare your mother the details, but you're going to tell me everything, young lady," Nemuri ordered firmly. Himiko cowered, but agreed.

Nemuri tucked the unconscious Hitomi into her futon. She stepped into the living area and seated herself in front of Himiko. Himiko frowned. It felt like an interrogation. When she told Nemuri she wanted to go to bed, the woman shook her head and adamantly urged her to start talking. She said she wouldn't sleep until she was finished with her accounts. Nemuri truly had a sadistic side to her.

Nemuri disclosed that she was well aware of the girl's quirk. Himiko bit her lip, nodded and told her mother's friend everything, as promised. Nemuri never interrupted.

After finishing, Nemuri eyed the girl up and down, "You told your story. Now's the time to reflect. What did you learn?"

Himiko looked at Nemuri, "That I'm not a villain."

"Then what are you?"

"I am me. I am Toga Himiko."

"And what do you want, Toga Himiko?"

Tears swelled in her eyes. She looked down at her knees and squeezed her hands. It was such a heavy question. Her peers had always instructed her on what she should want. What she truly wanted never mattered. Then, it clicked.

"I want to live in a world where we see each other as people first and quirks second. I want to make sure those who're like me have the chance to do great things. I want the bullying to stop for myself and others. I want to show the world that I could've turned to villainhood, but I didn't, because while my quirk is my quirk, I am also me. And I'm the one who's in control of my quirk. I can do equally as good as I can do bad. I want to show them. I," Himiko took a breath, "I value myself. I want everyone to value themselves. That is what I want."

Nemuri clapped her hands together, "That sounds like the monologue of a hero."

"Huh?" Himiko blinked.

"You heard me. Now, let's go to bed. I have a lot of ideas that need to come to fruition," Nemuri winked.

Himiko didn't have to be told twice. The dragged herself to her bedroom and went under the thick covers. She thought for a moment and sleep easily took over.

"A hero, huh?"

A Girl's Value - End