Disclaimer: I do not own My Hero Academia. This story contains violence and dark themes. Viewer discretion is advised.

Monoma could play the villain.

He was perfectly fit for the role, so everyone told him. The annual play of Nabu Middle School needed a student to fulfill the role of the evil egomaniac warlock who stole the hero's powers to compensate for his shortcomings. Monoma's personality fit perfectly, along with his awfully wonderful Quirk: Copy! His devious Quirk let him steal the abilities of others for his own gain, his classmates gleefully deduced. Unfortunately, his classmates' astute observations were not wholly correct. His ability didn't allow him to remove anyone's Quirk; he could only mimic them if the Quirk even allowed him. He thought that was obvious with the name "Copy", but not everyone could be as intelligent as he was.

While he appreciated being guaranteed a spot in the play, he had auditioned for the role of the hero, the prince who continued to fight against evil to save his kingdom even without his powers. The "judges," the most popular students in his class, laughed off the idea.

"You're joking, right, Quirk Robber?" Jun had snickered, showing off his jagged.

"We already gave you the part of Zaemon. Just take it." Suki tutted as she twirled her glittery pen with her levitation.

"Don't be so harsh on poor Mono-kun," Tadashi chided with a sleek smile. "He has a difficult time understanding everyone's roles. I'm supposed to play the main hero, Yuji, and you," he pointed to Monoma with silver eyes sparkling like stars, "are supposed to play my evil counterpart. If that isn't your fancy, you would fit the role of my bumbling sidekick."

"Oh, that'd be too good!" Jun cackled, and the rest of the class joined in.

So, he was left with a choice, play the diabolical villain or the stupid sidekick that betrayed the hero to team up with the warlock. Wanting guidance, he had gone to his mother first to know what she thought was the better role for him.

"That's a stupid question. You should be focused on keeping your grades up and applying for upstanding high schools and hero programs, not this childish play." It wasn't a particularly helpful answer. However, the discussion reminded him to tell his mother that he aimed to get into U.A… He was not confident he would get accepted with his Quirk, but he knew his mother wouldn't accept any less. Next, he went to his father for his opinion.

"I don't give a damn. Just don't cause any trouble." Another unhelpful comment, but he heeded his father's warning to keep himself in check. It had been an entire month without him being written up in class or accused of a horrendous "prank." He needed to keep a clean streak until he graduated from the awful middle school. Lastly, he asked his big sister.

"Oh, Neito-bo, that's an easy answer. Be the villain. It's soooo much fun! You get to go wherever you want, live however you want, and cut whoever you want, especially those meanies at your school. Once you taste their blood once, you'll never get enough of it!" She had given her enthusiastic opinion with her lips twisted into a grin and a dribble of blood running down her chin.

Monoma decided to take the role of the villain with no objections from his classmates. He promptly got to work on memorizing his lines and making his costume. He was cutting the fabric for his costume robe in Class 3-B's classroom at his desk when he noticed the same student passing by the open door repeatedly. It was distracting and irritated him to the point he thought Tadashi had sent someone to mess up his progress in his villain costume. Thankfully, the student finally decided to stop pacing. Unfortunately, he stopped in the classroom doorway.

"Uh… hello?" The voice was weak and uncertain, digging underneath Monoma's skin. Monoma looked at the interrupting student with a mockery of a smile. The student had unkept pale lavender hair and dark bags underneath his vacant purple eyes, making him look like a hollow zombie. It wasn't anyone from his class, but he had seen the other boy lurking in the halls and sitting alone in the cafeteria. Monoma had rarely seen him speak, so he was surprised the student was bold enough to approach him, especially with his reputation, not that he showed that.

"Hello, classmate," Monoma greeted with exaggerated cheerfulness, smiling wide. "Are you lost? You've been pacing outside my class for what feels like hours."

"Oh, no, sorry about that," the student quickly apologized, keeping a steadier gaze with the floor than Monoma. "I don't know if you know me, but I'm Shinso Hitoshi. I'm from class 3-A."

"Well, I'm Monoma Neito, beloved student of Class 3-B! Thank you for introducing yourself, Shinso-kun. It was well worth my time." Monoma went back to cutting the thick fabric. Shinso didn't leave, biting his lip and digging his nails into his palms. "You want something from me," Monoma spoke up when Shinso wouldn't.

"No, well, yes, I mean… I've had issues with my Quirk." That made Monoma look up and redirect his gaze to Shinso, curious. "It's Brainwashing."

"So, you're the brainwasher I've heard about." Shinso cringed at Monoma's interjection but continued, sounding ashamed.

"Yes, I am. My Quirk's been a curse all my life. No matter where I go, there's always trouble. I thought transferring to this school would be different, but… People are so scared of what I can do, and I'm scared I'll accidentally hurt someone, too. So, I wanted to ask if you could…" Shinso took a long pause, and Monoma saw how deeply his mind spun in thought as something flickered in the purple orbs. Shinso took a deep breath and took a step inside the classroom. "I want you to take my quirk away." Monoma's grip tightened on the pair of scissors in his hand, and he fought the scowl that threatened to rip his smile away.

"… You want the Quirk Robber's assistance." He kept his tone even and sweet with a controlled, simple smile. If Shinso wanted a villain's help, Monoma could easily play the role. "I'm happy to serve. How does your quirk work?"

"It's a verbal trigger. If I talk to someone and they respond, I can control them. Like if I asked you a question and you answered."

"So, hypothetically speaking, you could have mind-controlled me throughout any part of our conversation?"

"Hypothetically," Shinso replied with an edge of irritation and hardening his gaze.

"Perfect. Come here, Shinso-kun," Monoma fully turned in his chair and beckoned the other student over. There was a fleeting second of hesitation before Shinso walked between the empty desks to reach Monoma.

"How do you activate your quirk?" Shinso asked, and Monoma continued to smile.

"I only need to touch you." The blonde reached out his hand for Shinso's face. "The softest touch will do." Watching Shinso's breath stutter from the leap of his heart and his usually blank eyes widen with anticipation for Monoma's touch excited a deep repressed gratification within him. No one ever let him touch them, including his parents. Only his sister gladly welcomed his touch with open arms, but she wasn't around much anymore. A genuine smile graced Monoma's face for the first time that day as his fingertips tapped Shinso's cheek. Immediately, Monoma felt his body tingle as he copied a new quirk, his instincts taking in the fresh information and begging him to exercise it. Monoma pulled his hand away, asking:

"So, how do you feel?" Shinso touched his cheek and then looked himself over. He shrugged.

"I don't feel any dif—" Shinso abruptly fell silent, and his body relaxed as his purple eyes blanched into a bleak white, his gaze drowning into a blank thousand-yard stare.

"I'm sorry to say you've been deceived, Shinso-kun," Monoma smirked as he rested his head in his palm. "There have been lies spread about my quirk, no doubt from that ignorant trio, and you were unfortunate enough to believe them." He put his hand to his chest. "My Quirk is Copy and true to its name. I can't take anyone's Quirk away. I only mimic them. But I am still willing to help rid you of your curse," He twirled the pair of scissors still clutched in his hand. "Stick out your tongue, Shinso-kun," he commanded, and Shinso obeyed, parting his lips and sticking out his tongue for Monoma to grab the end. Monoma felt the panic burst in Shinso's mind despite his emotionless expression.

"I'll cut out your cursed tongue. Without it, you are practically Quirkless, right?" Monoma brought the shining scissors to Shinso's exposed tongue, resting the slimy organ nicely between the blades. "It won't hurt forever." Slowly, he squeezed. The scissors gradually started to close and pierced the vulnerable flesh, drawing the flowing life essence that his sister was obsessed over and making Shinso's internal fear spike into horror as he saw his blood kiss the scissor's blade. "Are we scared now? Perhaps feeling a twinge of regret?" Monoma's smile fell to a contempt line, and his gaze turned dark. His silver eyes as sharp as the scissor's blades.

"Listen, Shinso, not everyone is as lucky as us to be born with gifts, no matter how twisted they seem. There's always a way to exploit them to our benefit, no matter how "cursed" or "useless" those pig-headed fools say they are. Think about that before you ask someone to castrate your Quirk." Monoma released Shinso's tongue along with his hold on his mind. Shinso fell backward onto the desk behind him, gasping like he had been deprived of air and covering his bleeding mouth as his purple eyes stared up at Monoma, horrified. Monoma opened his mouth, and Shinso scrambled off the floor to dash out of the classroom. Well, there went his month-long streak of not being written up. He deserved that for not wrangling his impulses, though he could imagine the praise his sister would give him.

He looked down at the scissors in his hand, at the blood staining them. Curiosity made him do a lot of stupid things, including bringing the scissors to his mouth and running his tongue up along the blades to sample Shinso's blood. He wrinkled his nose in distaste. It was too bitter.

To Monoma's amazement, he finished the school day without being apprehended by a teacher or calling his parents about his deplorable behavior. He never learned why Shinso kept the incident between them to himself; perhaps no one would have listened. He didn't dwell on it, though. He needed to put on a show, and put on a show, he did.

He hit his ques perfectly and showed off his deep crimson robe and golden crown bejeweled with his mother's old and expensive gems from her jewelry that put Tadashi's cardboard crown to shame. On stage, he drew the audience's attention to himself with his voice performance. He had spent hours in his bedroom practicing his dramatic movements. He also may have gone off script and "borrowed" Tadashi's Quirk, Starlight, to introduce sparks of fizzing light when attacking the heroes; the startled look of Tadashi's idiotic gang was worth it. At the end of the play, he bathed in the crowd's applause as he bowed, taking note of the spike in applause when he took the stage. He looked out into the sea of faces and fought off the pang of disappointment at the lack of his parents' presence; it made him grateful for not initially looking for them and pretending they were clapping along.

His disappointment didn't linger long, though, when his eyes landed on a teen girl dressed in a black high school uniform he had never seen before, with cheery red eyes, wavy salmon pink hair, and tall stature standing at the back of the auditorium. Though he had never seen her face, he definitely recognized the carnivorous grin splitting across her lips and the elated gleam in her eyes.

"You came, Himi-chan!" he exclaimed, running up to the teenager and hugging her, drinking in the sensation of a warm embrace as she hugged him back. He had reunited with his big sister on the outskirts of the school parking lot, alone from the crowd.

"I have a couple of admirers after me, but I shook 'em off just for your show," Himiko said, stroking Monoma's hair. "That was your best performance yet, Neito-bo! I knew you were born for that character. I totally bought it. I'm so proud of you."

"Thank you," He clung to the praise like a starving dog on a bone.

"If I haven't lost track of time, you're going to high school next year, right?"

"Yes."

"Perfect!" Himiko excitedly clapped her hands together. "I've been waiting so long to introduce you to a very dear friend of mine. He's helped me so much and wants to help you, too. He's so strong, like nothing you can imagine. He can do anything!" Monoma was taken aback. Whenever he got to meet with his sister, she was always vague about what she had been up to, not that Monoma wasn't keen enough to put the pieces together. He had never directly involved himself in her "business." He wasn't sure how to feel.

"Help me? With what?" Himiko's smile grew.

"You still want to use your Quirk, don't you? He'll help set you on the right path. He's been wanting to meet you for a long time."

"I don't know, Himi-chan. Okasan wants me to be home in an hour."

"Don't think about what Kasan wants. Think about what Monoma Neito wants!" She threw her hands into the air. "He wants to be a star! He wants to show off his Quirk! He wants to be loved by everybody! Let my friend give that to you." One only has so many chances in the world to be great and recognized for their greatness. He'd be stupid to pass it up, wouldn't he?

"… Alright, I'll follow you."

Monoma didn't know where Himiko brought him to. It was the part of the city his mother warned him to stay away from, and he could see why. The buildings were either run down or abandoned, and the streets were littered with shady characters, but Himiko scared off anyone who got too close with a wicked grin and flash of a knife. She led him inside a small, abandoned restaurant; from the faded sign, it used to be a ramen shop.

"I finally brought Neito-bo, Shadow Man!" Himiko announced as she entered the shop with a cautious Monoma following behind her. The inside was crawling with darkness, the only light source coming from a candle placed on one of the dust-covered tables. The lone man sitting at the table was seemingly comprised of dark purple smoke that melted into the inky black shade. His golden-slitted eyes glowed like burning stars in the night sky.

"Good evening, Monoma-kun," the man's deep voice resonated in Monoma's chest, and the boy froze in the doorway.

"Go on," Himiko nudged him forward, chuckling. "He's not gonna eat ya." Monoma took a shaky breath and sat across the table from the shadowy man.

"It's a pleasure to meet you," the mysterious man continued. "I'm glad you agreed to come today. You won't have any regrets."

"Himiko said you'd help me get what I want." Monoma found his voice.

"Me? No. I'm just a link in his chain." The main pulled out a phone from the front pocket of his chest and placed it in front of Monoma. An unknown contact was on the screen with the dial number in bright green. "He has a proposal for you."

"Who's he?" The shadow gestured to the phone as his answer. Monoma huffed but called the number and put the phone to his ear. It only took two rings before "he" answered the phone.

"Why hello, is this Neito finally calling?" the man spoke with a charming amicability that sunk its teeth into Monoma.

"Yes, this is him. Who are you?"

"A great man with a simple dream. I assume you are the same."

"I wouldn't say my dreams are simple, but I'm told you can make them come true."

"Of course, I can. I'm a man of miracles."

"Getting me into U.A. would be a miracle."

"And you say your dreams aren't simple," the man chucked, and Monoma creased his brow. "That's not an insult, dear Neito. There is a certain envious beauty about modest desires. Now, what isn't so simple is obtaining those dreams and seeing how hero society will view your Quirk. You must know what cruelty your Quirk has brought you, how unkind people have been to you because of it. Your classmates being a prime example."

"You know about my classmates?" He started to worry about how much about himself Himiko had told these people?

"Them and more. Your father could care less about your ambition, and your mother has no faith in your Quirk. Do you think the shunning and cruelty will stop if you ever get into U.A.?

"I…" He had heard so many good things about U.A. and how it cultivated many great heroes who were beacons of strength, justice, and peace. He hoped the esteemed hero academy wouldn't harbor the same cruel environment all his previous schools had with little proof. He was treated the worst at Nabu. Would it be worse at U.A.?

"You had hoped it wouldn't." the man spoke for him. "Hope is as powerful as it is weak. It's saved as many it has killed, and false heroes wield it like a blazing sword. They've corrupted the idea of the hero and left you at the bottom to rot while you cheer at their feet. You're smart enough not to fall for empty promises, so I propose an absolute guarantee…" The man paused, and Monoma anxiously awaited his following words.

"I will create a new world, and in that world, people with quirks like you will be absolutely loved and cherished by the masses. There will never be another curse spit upon your Quirk. Your sister won't have to hide anymore. Your worth will be truly recognized and adored. To achieve this, I am creating a league of handpicked individuals with amazing gifts and unshakable drive, and there, I see you as an important player on that team. What do you say, Neito?"

"… You're serious?"

"I breathe, not a lie. I will tell you that when joining this league, you'll be taking on the sour title of 'villain' until we set the world straight. However, that shouldn't be too different than how you are viewed now. Don't let that waver your ambition. I'll get you into U.A. You can bring me information about all the hero students' quirks and their teachers. Simple enough? I hold the key to your evolution. Are you willing to take it?" It was tempting to say yes, but a small part of him curled away from the idea like a raging blaze.

"… If I get into U.A. on my own, I'll be willing to help you."

Toga was happy, very happy. So happy, in fact, that she treated herself to an extra vile of the sweet and wonderful blood of that cute pink-haired baker she saw in a cake shop the other day as she worked on her creation. The warm, delicious lifeblood serenaded her tongue as she sewed the patchwork fabric together with pale blonde threads, never minding if she pricked her fingers on the needle; it was so exciting, the sudden tickles of pain. She heard the door open behind her.

"I told you Neito would agree, Kuro-kun," she said smugly, removing a clump of stuffing from the bag on her desk that soaked red from her bleeding fingertips.

"He's still uncertain," Kurogiri said. "The master was gracious enough to accept Monoma's condition for joining; however, there are limitations to his generosity."

"You don't have to get all fluffy with me. Say what you want."

"Monoma is now tied to the league. If he fails to get into U.A., the master won't let him go free."

"Hm, interesting," she hummed, flawlessly executing a cross-stitch. "You say that like I should be crying. This is gonna be great for little Neito either way. He'll get the push he's been wanting for all his life." She happily tied off the last thread before holding up her masterpiece like a happy mom, proudly lifting her baby. "He'll finally be free, just like me!"

"Do your best and don't fail, Neito. Our family needs this," Was the last thing Monoma's mother told him before he walked out his front door and headed for the U.A. campus. He felt… weirdly numb walking through the school's great open gates and took his first step inside. It was bigger than the pictures he'd seen could capture and held a bold presence that encouraged a challenge. One that he would take up. He spent the last months studying night and day about hero work and setting up a workout routine to build his stamina and agility. Himiko even shared a couple of her moves with him.

He kept to himself as he sat in the auditorium and waited anxiously for instructions for the physical exam. He expected the announcer to be a formal and well-mannered figure for such a prestigious school, not a boisterous DJ who energetically bounded around the stage. He didn't think U.A.'s environment would be so casual. One uptight individual interrupted Present Mic's speech for clarification and to chastise another attendee for his unruly hair; he would have fit perfectly in with Shiketsu's preppy style. Other than that, the speech went smoothly, and Monoma was headed off to his group's starting point for the physical exam.

He was prepared for the exam, not tailoring to his Quirk; he couldn't copy the abilities of inanimate objects, which, unfortunately, included mindless robots. He immediately began scrutinizing his fellow attendees for any giveaway on their Quirks and if they would help in the exam. A boy with eager sparks popping from his hands looked promising, but with his aggressive and reactive demeanor, Monoma doubted he'd be able to get close enough to copy his Quirk in time. He also looked vaguely familiar, but Monoma wouldn't take the energy to remember where he'd seen the other examinee.

A different boy talked about eating an iron-filled breakfast for the exam and proudly showed off his iron-covered fist to another student. It would have been easy to copy his Quirk with a pat on the shoulder and a "good luck," but it seemed his Quirk also relied on the owner's own strength to be effective with how much muscle mass he had, a trait Monoma lacked.

Lucky for Monoma, the student the Iron-boy was talking to showed his Quirk in return, pointing to the black lightning bolt in his blonde hair before sending electric sparks through his fingers. Monoma toned down his smirk before approaching the duo amicably with "You two have such fantastic quirks," and patted each of them on the shoulder, touching the skin the blonde's loose shirt collar exposed. He felt the excited tingle rush through him as if a current of electricity had just been pumped into him, ready to burst. "I wish you both the best of luck."

"Thanks, man! Right back at ya," the iron boy said with a smile full of sharp teeth.

"What's your quirk, dude?" the blonde boy asked. Monoma smirked.

"It's a surprise." He walked away and set an alarm on his watch.

Five minutes. That's how long Monoma had to destroy as many robots as possible with a quirk he had never used. No pressure. The bell rang, the gates opened, and Monoma lurched forward with the crowd of ambitious attendees to fight for a spot in the hero course. He diverged from the crowd, turning down the nearest street and coming face to face with one of the two-point robots. He dodged a swipe of its leg and swiftly slid underneath its tail to jump onto it, grabbing its mantle.

'Now's the time to prove yourself, Quirk!' He let golden electricity take life through his fingertips and into the robot's circuitry; it acted like a chaotic wildfire, attacking everything around him, the air fizzling and popping around the smoking and sparking robot as its circuits fried. As it collapsed to the ground destroyed, Monoma threw his head back and cackled with his whole chest, his bones thrumming and nerves on fire from the residual sparks of power. He leaped off the dead robot and ran head-on into another battle. All his precise plans and tedious preparations were tossed to the side in favor of ecstatic impulse and passionate strikes, reveling in his temporary power with every robot he brought down to its knees.

A painful ache pulsing in his head grew stronger every time he unleashed another volt of energy, and he found his reflexes dulling as his body grew numb. Despite it all, he fought for control. He only had so much time to show what he could do. He wasn't wasting it just because his body failed to listen to him, especially when three robots were closing in on him. He couldn't tell with his blurring vision if they were one-pointers or two-pointers. It didn't matter; he would destroy them either way.

'I'm not done yet!' He sloppily punched the cold steel of a robot's leg, and the roar of electricity he expected in applause remained silent, with no single spark in sight. His watch hadn't gone off, had it? He stumbled backward, narrowly dodging a claw swipe, and struggled to stay on his feet. A shadow descended upon him, and he knew he should have dodged, rolled, anything to move anyway. Still, his body betrayed him with uncoordinated stumbling as punishment for pushing it too far. "Well, this is going to hurt." It did hurt. But a lot less than he had imagined. And rather than hard steel, it was a warm mass that had collided with his side and knocked him to the ground.

It took him another dazing moment to realize it had been a person who pushed him out of the way of the attack when he felt them carry him underneath his armpits and hurriedly drag him into a shady alleyway. He was carefully laid down on his back as the person sat beside him, leaning against the wall, out of breath. He heard the action continue in the main street as other competitors stole what were supposed to be his points.

"I didn't think I'd see you here," Monoma's vision snapped into focus at the deep, jaded voice that spoke to him. He turned his head to reconnect with tired purple eyes and an unamused expression looking down at him, though the streak of blood running down his face from a slash above his brow was a new trait.

"Shinso-kun?" Monoma rasped, throat sore from all the cackling and screaming he'd done during battle. "You… wanna be…" A crooked smirk cracked his lips. "A hero? You… too?"

"Don't act so surprised." Shinso wiped away the blood getting into his eye, smearing it across his face. "You told me to exploit my Quirk to do whatever I want. And I want to be a hero." He looked back out into the street, where others continued to fight. "Not that it helped any here."

"… Why'd you… save me?"

"Isn't that a stupid question?" Shinso turned back to the downed blonde with a hardened expression, and Monoma saw something in the other's eyes he had never seen before, fortitude. "I told you I'm going to be a hero. Despite that stunt, you pulled in junior high, I wouldn't let that bot crush you. It was real shitty, what you did." His eyes softened. "But it snapped me out of the stupid delusion that I'm cursed. I'm not letting my Quirk go. It's going to save people. I'm going to save people. No matter what, I'm fighting to be a hero." Something burned in Monoma's chest, his smile faltering.

"But… you're like—" the final buzzer rang throughout the arena as the physical entry exam concluded. Shinso got up and called out for aid, directing a team of robots to Monoma's downed form before sitting back down to get his own wound patched up by mechanical hands. Monoma was loaded onto a stretcher and carted away to a med bay. He was on his feet thirty minutes later after the school nurse used her healing Quirk on him and asked what could have left him in such a state that just happened to be similar to another attendee's.

"Well, when you copy someone's quirk, you also get their drawbacks." He said with a tired smile, body aching and exhausted. She gave him a pitiful grin and handed him a lollipop before sending him on his way. He left the school without another word and headed straight home. On the train ride to his house, he looked down at his wrist and realized with mild amusement that his watch was broken, toasted from his electrical bursts. He made a note to ask his mother to buy him a new one later.

"I did my best, Okasan," was his mumbled reply to his mother's questioning about the exam, not having the energy to react to her skeptical glare. He trudged up to his bedroom and collapsed onto his bed. He was asleep a moment later.

Monoma spent the next week recovering from abusing that electricity quirk; he felt some iota of pity for the boy handling that double-edged sword of a quirk and kept his anxious mind busy by applying for other high schools, some hero courses and some not. The response letter from U.A. came too soon, and he hid it from the rest of the mail so he could view it himself. He stashed it inside his bedroom desk and returned to it only after dinner. He sat at his desk, staring at the circular projector, waiting to be started. This was it. His future was one click away, and he couldn't procrastinate any longer. 'Just get this over with.' Monoma pressed the play button with a heavy sigh, and the projector sprang to life.

The last thing he expected to see was the great grin of the Symbol of Peace greeting him. He heard rumors that All Might would teach at U.A. in the upcoming year. To think they were true.

"I am here to congratulate you, Monoma Nieto! You racked up 40 villain points from bashing those dastardly bots and earned 10 rescue points for acts of heroism. That means you passed! You gave an outstanding performance and even had a laugh that rivals my own, ha! I'm proud to say that U.A. will be your hero academy. Greatness awaits you, Monoma Nieto!" All Might gave his signature smirk and a thumbs up before the message ended, leaving Monoma staring dumbfounded.

"I… passed?" he numbly muttered and pressed the replay button, listening intently to every word All Might uttered. His mind wasn't playing tricks on him. The Symbol of Peace called him out by name to honor him into U.A. High. Was he deserving of such praise? Of course! "I'm amazing!" he cheered victoriously, snatching the projector off his desk and rushing downstairs to tell his parents. They were initially annoyed when he barged into their back, and their irritation promptly washed away when he played them All Might's message.

"You pulled it off," his father actually smiled, sounding proud of him for once.

"You really did it, Neito!" For the first time in years, his mother rushed over to him and hugged him. Monoma instantly hugged her back, tearing up at feeling his mother's warm embrace. She rattled off all the things they needed to do to prepare and how she had to tell all of her coworkers of his accomplishments. It had been too long since he had seen her, either of his parents, so happy and relieved. Monoma road his high, deservedly so for all his hard work, until the moment he stepped back into his bedroom.

The reality of the situation rammed him like a speeding train when he saw Himiko sitting on his bed, a finger to her lips to silence him. She wasn't disguised or impersonating anyone, her blonde hair messily tied into two buns and her golden eyes piercing.

"Himi-chan," he quietly gasped, and she waved her hands instead of clapping.

"I know I shouldn't be here, but I couldn't help but congratulate you in person, Neito-bo." She leaped up off the bed, grinning. "You're an official member of the League of Villains." She wrapped him in a tight embrace a moment later, her body trembling with barely contained joy. "I knew you could do it!"

"League of Villains?" he repeated, shocked.

"Oh, I wasn't supposed to say that," She giggled. "The boss man just said that's a suggestion for our group name, but I just love it so much. Get's right to the point."

"Wait… I need to be a real villain?" The man had said they would be seen as villains, not actually be them. He was already getting troubling thoughts about what he'd done to Shinso, and that was only a villainous act put on to scare the other boy and let out frustration. He wasn't sure if he could be the true villain and rip out Shinso's tongue with glee.

"A really real one. Exciting, right?"

"But—"

"Oh, I got you a present." She grabbed his hand and took him to the bed where the present sat, a big, wide white box tied with a red ribbon. "Go on. Open it." Monoma kept quiet and opened the box. Inside, sitting on top of mounds of red tissue paper, was a plush cat. It looked like a handmade patchwork of pale brown, red polka dots on a black background and red and black plaid. One of its ears was crooked, and it had golden button eyes and a black nose. Some odd details about it were the dark red specks staining it and the blonde-colored threads holding it together. It was much smaller than the big box it was placed in. He picked it up and immediately recognized the material of the threads as he felt his fingertips itching to copy the Quirk of the hair's owner: Transform.

"I put my blood, sweat, and tears into making him and a bit of my hair." She giggled as she twirled a blonde lock around her finger. "It's not only cute but functional. Not only can you copy my Quirk, but I added a pocket in the back in case you wanna store any goodies in him. You also get to name him whatever you want!"

"… Thank you. That's very thoughtful of you."

"That's not all," she pointed back to the box, and Monoma pulled away the tissue paper. His eyes widened, seeing a row of six vials laid next to a pair of throwing knives and a pair of IV-like tubes with a needle on their ends. One vial was already filled with deep red blood. "Tada! It's one of my blood-sucking kits. It'll help you with your mission. Look, I even gave you some of my blood to get you started. You know, just in case you ever need to be little ol' me. Isn't that fantastic?"

"I need their blood?!" he asked, aghast. "I thought I was only getting information on my classmates' quirks."

"You are. And to get information, you're gonna have to make a few people bleed." She waved off his concern. "It's so much easier being in places you shouldn't when wearing someone else's face."

"But I-I don't—"

"Remember how to use the kit? Don't worry, I'll give you a refresher." She pushed up the sleeve of her sweater to expose her arm, littered with scratches and scars. "First, you look for a vein; some are harder to find than others, but don't let that hold you back. There's mine," she pointed to the faint blue streak in her arm and grabbed the needled tube. "Then you put the needle in like so," she didn't hesitate to stick the thick needle into her arm, giggling when doing so. "Here's the fun part." She held out the end of the tube for Monoma.

"Take it," she urged as he stared at it, his mind still racing to catch up to his current situation, but he took it. "Now suck up the blood, like soda from a straw! Give it a try." He held back a frustrated groan before sucking on the end of the tube. The irritating strain on his cheeks was rewarded with the overwhelming coppery taste of blood, some spilling his lip and chin as he jerked away. "It's harvesting time." She grabbed an empty vial and held it out so he could connect it to the tube. Himiko watched with more interest than Monoma did as the vial filled with blood. "And finished!" She proudly held up the filled vial and put it next to the others. "There you go, I gave you an extra. And I can always give you more vials when you need 'em." She pulled out the needle in her arm, still left with a filled tube. She offered it to him. "You wanna finish it off?"

"No thanks, I couldn't down that much," he rejected, wiping the blood on his chin with his shirt collar.

"Suit yourself," her pupils blew out, and her face flushed. She downed the rest of the blood, not letting a drop spill past her lips.

"Hm, I taste so good," she hummed, licking her lips. "Don't forget to clean that out when you're done. Don't want too much blood mixing." She stood up, a proud air around her. "I have to head out too soon, I know. Don't do anything until Kuro-kun tells you to. He'll come find you." Monoma looked down at the plush cat in his lap, his hand curling into a fist. 'Is it too late to turn back?'

"Himiko, please listen." He flinched as warm hands cupped his cheeks, and Himiko pulled his face close to hers. Her golden gaze was as piercing as her knives.

"I'm listening," she spoke softly, her long nails lightly digging into his skin. 'I don't think I can do this.'

"Do you think I can do this?"

"Oh, Neito-bo," she cooed, "You can do this and more." She leaned in and placed a tender kiss on his temple, the tip of her fangs scratching the tender skin. "I love you so much, Neito-bo, I could die."

"I love you too, Himi-chan."

She slipped back out of the window and disappeared into the night. Monoma sat in silence, looking between the cause of vials and knives and Himiko's handmade plush.

"I'm supposed to play the main hero, Yuji, and you are supposed to play my evil counterpart."

"No matter what, I'm fighting to be a hero."

"Be the villain, it's soooo much fun!"

"Greatness awaits you, Monoma Nieto!"

"Why not both," he whispered to himself, stroking the cat's head. "I'll have to brush up on my hero, but I already have my villain mastered. I'll put on the performance of a lifetime. Everyone will be impressed then. Hm, playing both the righteous hero and sadistic villain," he fell back onto his bed, clutching the patchwork plush to his chest with a false smile. "How dramatic."

Thank you for reading!