"Ooh, are you gonna jump?" Himiko felt a mad blush spread across her cheeks, and her eyes locked with the boy balancing on the edge. "Can I watch?'

The boy's clear green eyes were wide with fear and shock, like an emerald on the verge of shattering, and he seemed to be shaking from adrenaline. Himiko was shaking too, ever so slightly; she couldn't keep her hands still at all, twitching and fiddling with her cardigan sleeves. How could she even try and restrain herself? This was the first time she'd seen someone want to jump off a building! It was exciting!

"Wha- what?" The boy took a moment to sputter out a response, his mouth hanging open and his chest heaving. Himiko giggled. The boy was so easy to shock. What should she call him? She knew! Mr. Mossy! After all, his hair looked like a big wadded up ball of moss, blackish-green and tangled.

"I want to watch!" Himiko smiled enthusiastically, a puppy that had found an injured bird to play with. "Can I?"

Mr. Mossy stared at her in abject horror, clinging to the guardrail and seemingly unsure what to say. Looking into his eyes, she could tell the wheels in his head were spinning at a million miles an hour, but had absolutely no traction at all. He was staring at her, too! Oh, be still, faint heart.

"Don't.. Don't you want to stop me?"

"Hm? Me?" She cocked her head, and pointed at herself in a way she had seen idol girls do, before cracking a sharp, toothy smile. "Why would I want to stop you? It's so trendy nowadays!"

This did nothing to relax Mr. Mossy, who only seemed more confused. He looked at her, then over the edge, and then back at her. Himiko slammed the door shut, and half-ran, half skipped to the guardrail, skidding to a stop and closing the distance between them.

"So, tell me, tell me," She leaned over the guardrail, whispering in the energetic hush-hush manner of someone who just stumbled upon a piece of particularly juicy gossip. "Why do you wanna jump?"

Mr. Mossy leaned back, stumbling to keep his balance and keep their faces more than a few inches apart. His fingers clawed at the metal guardrail's smooth surface, hands trembling and knuckles white. They were so far up too, it made Himiko's stomach churn just by looking down. It didn't matter who they were, if someone fell from here, they'd be a grease stain once they got to the bottom. She could imagine it; a slip, a scream, cut short by a sickening wet crunch several stories below. Looking at Mr. Mossy, she could almost see it already, his limbs twisted into unnatural angles like the dolls of her childhood, bones poking out of his soft, pale skin… All it would take was a single, gentle push...

She felt hot despite the chilly dusk air, her catlike eyes looking over every part of him as she imagined him, gnarled and broken on the cement below.

"I-" His voice cracked, and his mouth snapped shut. He was silent, refusing to meet her prying eyes. "W-why would you even care?"

"It's no good when people hide that they're hurt, you know." Her head shifted to the to the side, but he averted his eyes again, too ashamed to look at her. She wanted to see Mr. Mossy's eyes, his face. They were always the best part; if she couldn't see his face, if she couldn't see what was going on behind those bashful eyes, what was the point?

His lips quivered, and she could see the nervous glances he cast towards her. A gust of wind ruffled their hair, and the sound of traffic from the other side of the city could almost fill the deafening silence.

"Someone told me to jump off a building." Mr. Mossy mumbled, a whisper on the wind that Himiko could just barely make out. "So… I took their advice."

She watched him for a few moments, cocking her head and leaning just a tad bit close. She could hear his breathing, feel his hot breath as it mingled with the chilly night air. Her smile fell apart, replaced by a disappointed scowl. He was a horrible liar. Why did all the boys with cute faces lie? They always acted like that, nervous and dishonest.

"Lying isn't cute at all." Her voice was flat and blunt, like an aluminum baseball bat. She reached out and grabbed his jaw, dragging her long sharp nails across his face, and yanked his head towards her. Mr. Mossy jerked his head back and forth, trying to shake free, but her hand was a steel vice, locking it in place.

Even in the dim light, she could easily make out his freckled face. Trembling jaw, heavy breathing, all things she had seen many times. After so many people, things like that just blended together. But the eyes, oh, those eyes. Seeing them made her feel all tingly and hot. She stared into them, licking her lips.

Every person she met had different eyes. Some were angry, narrow and rage-filled with a fire trapped behind their pupils. Others were scared, wide and watery as the person begged her to stop. They were all beautiful, because eyes were special. Himiko had heard people say they were the window into a person's soul, and she wanted to learn everything about her friends.

Mr. Mossy's eyes were the fearful type. They were large and round, almost childish. But she paused, her hungry smile briefly flickering. The terror was there. It was there, no doubt. But it was… empty. Like the sun on an overcast day. It was there, but sad and grey, hidden behind layers and layers of clouds.

She couldn't push him off like this. How could she? It would be disappointing. Himiko couldn't see his soul through the clouds in his eyes. She dragged his face closer, digging her nails into his cheeks. There was a mousy whimper, but Mr. Mossy didn't resist.

What was with him? Everyone else resisted, fighting tooth and nail to the end. But he had just given up. Her heart was telling her to just push him; it would feel good, it promised her. She would feel all nice and fuzzy, it cooed. But something deep in her gut twisted and squirmed, telling her not to. Those clouds in his eyes, they were thunderclouds. And they looked familiar.

"... Who hurt you?" Himiko's voice was soft, a feather gently blown by the breeze. She didn't really know why she was asking the question, not really. Was she expecting an answer? He had already lied to her. He was obviously afraid off her. He was just like the others.

There were a few moments when nothing happened, the boy seeming trapped in his own mind. He didn't make a sound, just shivering miserably in the cold. But Himiko watched the tears form in his eyes, the gemstones cracking. She felt the sobs rack his body, only growing in intensity, and heard the broken chokes as he struggled to force air into his lungs. Even if his mouth refused to be honest, his tears didn't have a choice. She had tugged at the string, and now the entire cloth was unraveling before her eyes. She felt like she was watching a city-flattening hurricane meet a lifeless desert. She couldn't smile about it, but it was undeniably… beautiful.

"Every-" Mr. Mossy sucked in a shaky breath, "Everyone!" Fat tears poured from his puffy, bloodshot eyes. "Why is the world so unfair? If you have a powerful quirk, you can become anything! But what can I do?" He puked the words out, each one falling out of his mouth without any restraint or filter. "Everyone else seems so special, b-but the only thing special about me is that I'm not special! That no one cares! That I shouldn't have been born!"

Himiko felt so odd not wearing a smile. It was as though her brain sent the message to her face, and her muscles had to send a message back for confirmation. They were confused; after all, she only really frowned when she was annoyed, and she most certainly wasn't now. She was ecstatic. But she was feeling something else too.

The scowl on her face felt unnatural, the way her mouth hung open with unspoken words. So did the was the way her heart squeezed. The way her breathing sped up. The way her throat tightened. It wasn't out of excitement. Her body felt hot, but it wasn't in a good way. Not in a way that made her want to cut him up.

She leaned her forehead against his, and felt his breath catch. "The world hurts, doesn't it?" Her voice was low and gentle, but not soft.

"...S-so much…"

"And your hero never saved you?"

The boy only sobbed harder, giving Himiko the answer she needed. She stared at him silently, her toxic yellow eyes cold, but sympathetic. Intelligent, but not heartless. Heroes always talked about helping people, but they were never there for those who needed saving. Never. Her grip loosened, and she let go of him, stepped away from the guardrail. She stumbled back a few steps in an almost carefree manner, but her sharp eyes never strayed from those clouded emeralds

The instant Himiko stepped back, Mr. Mossy was glued to the guardrail, clinging for dear life. Himiko held back a giggle, thinking about that phrasing. He was twitchy, glancing over his shoulder to check for any monster that might jump up at him from fourteen stories below, and just watching him, Himiko felt a slim smile crawl onto her face. He was just a tangled up ball of anxiety, who seemed to jump at every shifting shadow, but Himiko liked him. They were the same, she could feel it. She felt like she had just found an exhilarating novel, and she couldn't wait to tear it open and engorge herself on each and every last word.

"Hey," Her fingers traced the edges of the knife in her pocket, it's sheathed blade teasing her. "What's your name?"

He stared at her, far past the point of even trying to understand her. It was obvious that he wasn't able to think straight anymore; she could see it in his eyes, the way they were unable to focus on anything for more than a few brief moments.

"... M-midoriya. Midoriya Izuku."

Her grin wided, and she could feel the blush returning. "I'm Toga Himiko, great to meet ya! Do you wanna be friends?"

He opened his mouth to respond, then closed it, before opening it again. "Why do you want to be friends with me?" His eyes were firmly planted on the concrete underneath Himiko's feet. He was such a cloudy person, always looking at anything but her. Was he always like this? Or was this just the real him, the one he always hid underneath thick blankets of lies? Oh, how she wanted to know!

"Do I have to have a reason? I like making friends!" She caught him by the arms, and forcefully pulled him over the guardrail. "Let's chat!"

)ooOoo(

Izuku's mind was covered by a thick haze. His throat was on fire, and his eyes felt like they had been stung by wasps. His limbs felt heavy, and the last few shards of logic in his mind that were still functioning told him it was probably because he had just spent several minutes hanging off the edge of a building. The last few of which, however, were by sheer willpower alone, as his muscles were far past the breaking point.

Not that the message was getting across; his mind's central command was in absolute chaos, flooding and on fire at the same time. Sensory command had long since stopped functioning, with the combined sensations of hanging several stories above the ground and being this close with a girl causing the entire system to overheat. The emotional maintenance team had gone AWOL, tearing apart the entire system of emotional safeguards piece by piece, which resulted in all of his feeling mixing together in a confusing mess that melted through all of the logical processing systems. And the captain hadn't been seen since that girl opened the door to the roof, having decided to jump ship before everything went to hell.

So, when the girl reached over and dragged him over the guardrail and over to the center of the roof, picking him up with only slightly more effort than that required to carry a cat, he was far past the point of questioning. He was in a state of chaotic calm, too far past the point of no return to even differentiate between the mundane and the insane. Was this what shock felt like? This was probably what shock felt like. He should write down what it felt like, for future reference. Heroes dealt with shock a lot, so he'd have to know how to handle it.

Oh wait. No he wouldn't, would he? That's why he was up here, after all. Right. For someone who spent so much time writing notes, he really was forgetful. He knew that thought should have hurt more than it did, but it felt like he no longer had the coordination to feel anything more than a dull ache in his heart and an overbearing sense of anxiety everywhere else.

He felt a set of small hands directing him to sit down on the cool concrete, and the small, flickering spotlight of clarity that was his focus reoriented itself towards the world outside his head. There was that girl. Tanaka, he thinks? Toga? Or Tahashi, maybe? Izuku hoped he was remembering correctly. It would be rude to call her the wrong name, especially after she just told him. He bit his lip, and squinted, trying to focus enough to remember, but it was useless.

She gracelessly propped him up against a large powerbox, and then plopped down in front of him, a smile on her face. A big, toothy smile. A too wide, too sharp smile that gave him the distinct feeling of being a rabbit cornered by a wolf. Izuku could feel his breathing catch as he stared at her canines, pearly daggers that seemed to demand his attention.

"So, Midoriya!" Izuku flinched at her voice, which shredded the thin silence. "What grade are you in?"

"Uh… N-ninth." What was this girl talking about? The logical part of him knew that you're supposed to call the police or something in this situation. But she just… wasn't. Izuku tore his gaze away from her teeth. "I go to Aldera Junior High." He stumbled for a moment, his brain forgetting what conversation was. The eyes. Look at the eyes. That's what you're supposed to do when talking to someone. Eyes were safe. "What, um, what about you? Your grade?"

Bad choice. Eyes were not safe. Not at all. The pupils were narrow and slit-like, while the iris were the color of sickly, rotten flesh. Rotten flesh? Why was that the first comparison to come to mind? He'd never even seen any. But he couldn't think of anything else to compare it to. His mind was blank, and, looking into those eyes, he couldn't even blink, let alone look away.

"Oh, I'm supposed to be in ninth grade too! Though I'm probably younger than you. I have a late birthday!" Her eyes never left Izuku, as though she was completely captivated. It unnerved him; he wasn't often the center of attention, but he had the feeling that even if he usually was, this girl would still terrify him. It felt like she was slicing open his skin with her gaze. "Do you have any plans for after middle school? Or was it just to take a step off the fourteenth flour?" Her giggle was far too bubble to fit her words.

"Well, uh, high school, probably…" He should lie. He didn't need to tell her. He knew she'd ask what his quirk was, and then he'd have explain he didn't have one, and then… he didn't want to get laughed at by her. Not by anyone, not right now, not ever again. It was already too much. It was only when he finished muttering the sentence he realized that his mouth was faster than his mind. "I'm, well... I'm hoping that I can get into U.A."

"Really?" She cocked her head, and pressed her lips into an intrigued grin, almost replacing the sickly blush on her face with cute curiosity. Almost. "So you want to become a hero?"

"Yeah, I guess…" He forced a weak smile, so fake that a blind man could probably tell. It quickly devolved into a hollow, self-pitying grin, though, his eyes wandering towards the ground beneath the girl's feet. The ground was always a safe place to look, he'd found, even with people like Kacchan. "... Not that it's very realistic."

"Why's that? Do you think you're a too much of a coward?"

He flinched slightly, not surprised, but still hurt. Of course she'd jump to that. She found him tying the metaphorical noose, after all, and what was more cowardly than that? His mouth scrunched into a scowl, already ashamed of the words to leave his mouth. "... I'm quirkless…" He mumbled, pointlessly hoping that she might just ignore it. Maybe, if he was lucky, she would just leave him alone. Or grin nervously, and try to sidestep the topic. Those were usually the best responses he got. But he could already hear her high pitched, off-kilter voice laughing at him in his mind.

"Why's that important?"

"W-what?" He wasn't sure if it was due to the absurdity of the statement, or that his mind was still in disrepair from his deliberate near-death experience, but it took Izuku a moment to compute what was said. His eyes shot towards her, equal parts confused and distrustful. Was she just teasing him? Or was she building up to a punchline? If she just wanted to turn him into a joke, she could just start laughing, and not have to rub it in. "Of course it's important!"

She paused for a moment, frowning, and rested her head in her hands. "But that can't be the most important part. I have a quirk, but I still can't be a hero." Izuku felt her eyes scour his body, as though looking for some hint, some clue, before returning to his face. "Do you really, really want to become a hero?"

"Of course!" He could hear the desperation in his voice, the silent scream of someone refusing to let go of their dream. But, along with it, he could hear the tired resignation. The side of him that was dry and cracked, the oasis that gave up in its fight against the desert heat. Of course he wanted to become a hero, just like how a fish may dream of flying. That's all it was. A dream. So why was Toga, or Tanaka, or whoever this was pretending it was even worth thinking about? He'd never have the ability, he'd never be strong enough.

"Then I don't think you need a quirk!" She gave a wide smile.

Izuku stared at her like she had three heads. Of course he needed a quirk. There had never been a hero without a quirk, and those that tried always were too weak. They just got in the way of the actual heros. His classmates and teachers had told him so. Kacchan told him so. All Might himself had told him he was better just joining the police. Even his Mom…

Even his Mom, with her reluctant little smiles, had been telling him for years it was a pointless dream. She had never wanted to say it out loud, but looking back, he had been foolish not to hear it. Everyone else had put two and two together, but he had refused to.

"How am I supposed to help anyone?." Izuku curled himself into a ball, shrinking under the blond girl's gaze. "A slime villain attacked me yesterday. He was just a robber, not even a real villain. But I couldn't beat him. I was useless. I was less than useless."

"Well, duh." Toga rolled her eyes, as though dealing with a particularly stupid child. Not that he'd deny being one. "You're just a teenager. Do you think heroes are born able to save people?"

"Well, no, but-"

"So what do they do?"

"They train, obviously-"

"Have you trained at all?"

"I've studied how all the heroes fight-"

"But have you trained your body?"

Izuku opened his mouth to retort, but paused. "N-no." He chewed on his lip, and averted his eyes. He had never trained. He'd had P.E. class, sure, but actual training? He'd never even played a sport. He looked like a twig, just all skin and bones.

He could feel her watching him, and he shifted, unable to feel comfortable on the cold concrete. The sun had long since dipped below the horizon, leaving the sky doused in hues of blue and purple and the city awash in electric whites and yellows. The air had become chilly enough that he could see his shaky breath, and he resisted a shiver. It might be warm during the day, but it was still spring, and Izuku had never dealt with the cold well.

His eyes flickered towards the ledge he had been standing at, then towards the girl. Her hair was uneven and messy, tied into two barely controlled buns; thick layers of eyeshadow made her look like she hadn't slept in weeks, and seemingly the only part of her face that wasn't concealed by poorly applied makeup was the hot, uncomfortable blush that wrestled her smile for control of her cheeks. Everything about her screamed that he shouldn't be near her.

But…

She had pulled him away from the edge. Her smile was… odd, yes, he'll put it that way. But it was genuine. It wasn't cruel, it wasn't the sort that was about to laugh at him. It wasn't fake, or the nervous sort of someone who wanted to be anywhere but this conversation. It wasn't like how his teacher smiled when Izuku wrote 'U.A.' on his career plan. It wasn't like how his classmates smiled when someone made a joke about him. It wasn't like how the All Might posters smiled, a crude imitation of the real thing.

It was a smile that was actually happy to be talking to him.

He frowned, the sort that spoke of caution but not despair, and looked up at her. "But… how can I train? I only have ten months, and… and I don't even know where to start."

She looked surprised, like she had just seen a kitten roar. She made a hmm, and rapted her fingers against her cheeks, thinking. Her mouth twisted into a small grin, and then a sharp grimace, before returning to what Izuku could only describe as her signature smile.

"How about you train with me, then?"

A/N: Good evenin' all. I do hope this chapter didn't take too long to write, though it was a tad difficult to crawl out of my particular slice of Hell long enough to transcribe and publish this. I do hope you enjoyed the chapter!

Ok, first and foremost, I wanted to give a shout out to menenc2ooo. He's been a real big help, and I can't thank 'em enough. He's called me out on a lot of things that would've looked terrible, so if you want to thank anyone for this chapter's quality, thank my beta-reader.

So, I'm gonna lay this out straight: Toga is one of the most difficult characters I've ever had to write dialogue for. I won't claim to be anything other than an amatur at writing dialogue, and put on top of that the fact that Toga is quite literally mentally ill, and this becomes a tricky situation. So, feel free to make comments or suggestions on her dialogue, or really, any part of my writing. It can only make me better!

With only the worst of intentions,

Imp the Nefarious

MedicusAestus: A fellow comrade! This is another Toga fic indeed. And, on the matter of Toga teaching Izuku the art of villainy, well… If I just tell you the plot, you don't have any reason to come back, do you?

Sewrtyuiop: I appreciate the vote of confidence! And, I tell ya, few things are as entertaining or interesting as seeing a "good guy" corrupt and fall from grace. I hope you enjoy the coming storm.

Lark: Looking back, yeah, I'd agree. A single day is a tad bit fast to decide to die. Something to keep in mind for the future, I suppose? I hope this chapter lived up to your expectations!