A new life [BNHA]

Chapter 5: comfort !

"Himiko, sweetie. I want to help you but I need you to talk to me, okay?" Nemuri started to stay, leaning backwards in her chair as she studied the girl sitting on the couch on the other side of her office. She was the counselor for female students- and villains now too, apparently.

The blonde's eyes were red and puffy from crying, and she still had fresh tears streaming down her face. A silent cryer, it seemed. She swayed back in fourth in such a way that made her look truly miserable.

Nemuri felt awful for this young girl. So beautiful, and youthful! She could've had such a life. But she went down the wrong road, and apparently uwabami is her sister? Odd.

She needed more elaboration to actually help, but it had already been a week since the news reporter and Himiko wasn't doing anything but crying. No progress on her reformation yet. Though, it's not like the other villains were doing much better.

"Hmm..." the dark haired female adjusted her glasses as she stared off, going into a deep thought. Then she snapped back a minute later, a content smirk on her face. "Have any crushes, Himiko? Oh! Tell me you so. Surely, a girl just as stunning and gorgeous as you should have a crush!" She gushed, hands shooting up into the air excitedly.

The teen perked up a bit at the topic change, with the small tilt of her head. For a split second, it seemed like her mood lifted, the edges of her mouth threatening to curve upwards. Toga loved this topic. "I— had a crush on this boy— ... sooo cute. Pretty, fluffy hair. Bleeds a lot-" she grimaced with the last sentence, as if ashamed by her words. "But ... I .. like a girl, now. She's so strong, and pretty, and independent, and-" another grimace.

Midnight didn't know Himiko well, but it was really easy to tell that she was a rather confident individual on a normal occasion. This ... ? That demeanor of hers? That ain't it.

"Yeah? You know there's nothing wrong with liking girls, right? And I understand your blood lust. Truly! It's admirable!" She smirked. "And normal for certain quirks.
Nothing to be ashamed of."

Himiko hung her head down and stayed dead silent. She barely moved to breath.
Nemuri knew she hit a nerve. "Talk to me," she whispered with a gentle, motherly tone. The hero wasn't usually this serious, but it was a special occasion. She wanted to make this mistreated child cheer up.

Truly.

She wanted to see a smile.

But the girl didn't smile.

However, her soft, pink lips parted, as she started to speak. Thank god. Nemuri didn't even hear her talk yet, but she knew she was glad.

"I- my... parents thought I was a bad kid. I ate .. animals and hurt people- but .. but .. they tried to fix me. They took me to special schools, taught me manners. So, I ... faked it to make it ..? I acted normal." Her voice was shaky. "... Bami supported me. She was always so sweet, and helped when they made me upset- but .. I ... scared her friends one night. She called me creepy. And a monster. And then..." more tears streamed down her face. "And then eighth grade graduation, I killed a guy because he smelt nice and I was... upset. And- and- I ran away. I had to. I'd get caught. I- Never meant- I just - I tried to get better - I just want to.. to. ..." she panted, and then let out a loud sob, holding her head in her hands.

"I just wanna be normal, damnit!"

Nemuri got up from her chair. She walked over to Himiko quietly and cupped her cheeks in her heads, lifting her head up so that they could make contact. The hero smiled warmly, eyes closed.

"Normal is boring. You're fine the way you are."

The child's lip quivered. She reached over quickly and wrapped her arms around Nemuri's neck, giving her a hug.

-

It was twelve AM, and dabi found himself staring his reflection down in the mirror. He stayed in hizashi yamada's dorm in the school, but he was an awful caretaker, and fell asleep. So the villain had access to whatever he wanted.

He could escape if he wanted. But ... there's no point. The whole league is here. Everyone knows his dirty little secret. There's no fucking point.

Dabi leaned his head forward and examined those crimson roots of his, that were increasing by the day. He had to get it redyed, but wasn't sure if anyone one how to do that kind of thing. Someone else in the league used to help him with hair dying, but she ... passed away.

Fuck you, overhaul.

Dabi remembered Magne's gently fingers brush through his hair, as she ranted motherly complaints and nagging, all while applying the dark dye onto that nasty red stemming from his head. He missed her presence. Her warm hugs that felt like suffocation, but in the best way.

Her motherly face and cheery attitude. The sass. Everything about Magne.

Everyone missed big sis mag, but it was hitting dabi hard at the moment. He wished she could dye his hair again- he wished he had gone to the overhaul meeting with the rest of the league.

Maybe he could protect her, and she'd still be alive.

She really was a big sister to everyone.

The ravenette's face was wet and he didn't even notice the tears starting. The medication he was on MUST have been making him emotional. Dabi slammed his head against the countertop, clutching the hard edge as he stared down into the sink, watching the teardrops fall onto the marble.

"Come back, sis. C'mon. We ... ain't gonna do this without you. Shig- shigaraki... you fucking two. Just-" he lifted a fist and slammed it angrily into the glass mirror, shattering it. He didn't blind the loud sound or the glass splintering into his skin.

He wanted his family back. "Damnit- damnit- you two... get back here. Quit-" his voice broke pathetically, "... quit playin' dead, yeah?"

The bathroom door swung open, a blonde in the doorway, his long hair falling loosely on his shoulders. No need for hairspray in the middle of the night. He wore a yellow T-shirt and purple sweatpants, — what an awful fashion sense.

He frowned, hand still on the door knob. "Dabi- what are you doin', kiddo? Come on. We'll clean up the glass later, but give me your fist. "

Dabi turned towards him, gazing down at the tile on the bathroom floor. "I miss them. "

Hizashi put a hand on his shoulder. "Yeah, kid, I know you do."

-

As Tomura's injuries were tended to, he fell into a coma. His heart rate was stabilized, but he was hooked up to a machine regardless, due to frequent outbursts of panic he'd get.

Recovery girl wasn't sure whether he'd wake up or not. But Eraserhead spent every second with him that he could. He was either teaching that crazy class of his, or he was at the villain's side, gently clutching the edge of the soft fleece blanket thrown over him.

He never said anything, only sitting there with his head turned down to the ground. No words could convey the correct feelings, anyway. The situation was too complicated.

But Eraserhead felt too guilty to just let the kid rest here alone.

The young man's shaggy baby blue hair was shoved messily to one side of his head, making his pale face visible. His scarred eyes closed peacefully, and that mouth that usually formed into a wide smile reduced to a sad frown.

He looked less villainous, and more like a child, Aizawa noted, lifting his gaze up to examine the boy once again. He watched his chest rise and fall every few seconds, and heard his light breathing.

Eraserhead shouldn't get involved with every problem child he comes across, but he had no choice. There was so much pain in that boy's head, and despite the fact that Shigaraki had been responsible for an ass ton of PTSD (usj), he wanted to help.

Shouta reached a hand forward and gently caressed the side of Tomura's cheek, feeling the warmth on his fingertips. It was abnormally hot, probably due to a fever.

To his surprise, the boy winced violently after a moment, then turning his head to snuggle up into Aizawa's hand. The man let out a breath he didn't know he was holding. It's possible he felt responsible for this child, almost. A sense of paternity.

Why does he have to have a soft spot for edgy children?