"This is... problematic."
I let out a sigh as I watched the girl before me. She was skin and bones, rummaging through a trash can for scraps. She had messy blonde hair tied into two buns, sharp fangs, and piercing golden eyes.
Himiko Toga.
She had been abandoned by her own parents.
Her Quirk had manifested when she was four years old. Driven by the bloodlust—a side effect of her power—she began by drinking the blood of a dead sparrow she found on the road. From that day on, her parents treated her like a monster.
"Stop it this instant!!"
The first words she heard after her Quirk awakened were not words of comfort or concern, but cold reprimands and looks of pure loathing.
The child had cringed under that hatred, begging for forgiveness, but in her parents' eyes, she was already nothing more than a creature.
Stung by their gaze, she tried to suppress her instincts.
But when her parents learned the specific conditions and side effects of her Quirk from a doctor—that it required the consumption of blood—they discarded her without a second thought.
Irresponsible parents.
If a child is born with such a Quirk and such burdens, it is the parent's duty to teach them how to control and endure it. Instead, they acted as if they were dumping a stray dog, throwing their own flesh and blood away like a piece of worn-out trash because they couldn't be bothered to deal with the responsibility.
Himiko fell into despair.
They found it tedious to teach her restraint. They feared the liability if an accident occurred. They knew only how to yell, strike, and demand she suppress her nature. They weren't parents; they were cowards who threw away a life to avoid a future burden.
In the original story, Himiko pleaded with them, explaining that she had only drunk blood and hadn't hurt the bird or her friends. But the Toga parents didn't care that she hadn't caused harm; they were obsessed with the fact that she was "abnormal" and tried to force her to be "normal."
It was a futile effort. It was her nature, and she couldn't understand why drinking blood was inherently "evil." Eventually, her parents' verbal abuse—calling her a "thing" instead of a human—traumatized her into suppressing her instincts in the worst way possible. For ten years, she held it in, until the pressure finally exploded in middle school. She attacked a classmate she liked, leaving him severely injured as she drank his blood through a straw.
Simply put, Himiko loved blood, but she wasn't a born killer. Her environment denied her very nature from childhood, leaving her with no path to satiate her needs other than through violence. Only then did she become a murderer.
After the incident, her parents apologized to the media, claiming they had done their best but that their daughter was a "demon" destined for villainy. But in reality, they had done nothing but verbally abuse her and then, when she suppressed her behavior out of fear, naively believed a seven-year-old had "fixed" her psychological issues on her own. They left her rotting in that state for a decade.
If she had parents who understood her, or even a friend who occasionally let her have a little blood, she might have just been an eccentric high school girl. She wouldn't have become a serial killer.
Before her Quirk manifested, her parents had been kind and warm. To have them suddenly look at her with such disgust, to be hit, scolded, and finally abandoned... it was incomprehensible to a child.
She was utterly isolated.
She cursed her Quirk. She cursed herself. She fell into a deep pit of self-loathing, believing she was a monster that should never have been born. She isolated herself from the world as the cracks in her heart grew too deep to mend.
This was the information I knew about Himiko Toga. Seeing her now, dressed in rags and eating garbage, was heartbreaking.
"Eat this."
".........."
I held out a sandwich. She flinched for a moment, then snatched it from my hand with a primal intensity, shoving it into her mouth.
"Eat slowly... No one is going to take it from you."
I handed her a carton of milk to calm her down. She grabbed that too, gulping it down as if she hadn't eaten in days.
"Haah... Th-thank you... I haven't had a real meal in so long..."
Growl—!
Her stomach let out a thunderous roar, protesting that it was still empty and demanding more.
"Follow me."
Despite my appearance, Himiko followed. Whether it was because she didn't know how to doubt others anymore or because she had simply given up on life, I didn't know. Watching her walk silently behind me only made me pity her more.
"Whoa... Is this your house, sir?"
"It is."
Standing before the Tsugikuni estate, Himiko was wide-eyed with awe. The massive residence, which had housed a prestigious samurai lineage for centuries, was enough to strike anyone silent. Our family had produced bodyguards for Emperors, Shoguns, and Daimyos alike; the estate was appropriately grand and beautiful.
I led her inside and spoke to the servants.
"Bathe her and give her fine clothes. Then, prepare a meal. She is my guest; treat her with the utmost respect."
"Yes, Young Master."
The servants didn't question my orders. They led her toward the baths. Once they were gone, I went to my room to change, then prepared to seek out my father. I needed to discuss her future.
"Is... Is it really okay for me to eat all this?"
"Of course. We cannot serve substandard food to the Young Master's guest. Is something not to your liking?"
Himiko shook her head quickly and began to eat. The servant bowed and slid the screen door shut. Alone in the guest room, Himiko began to eat with a frightening desperation.
"It's so good..."
She muttered that she had never tasted anything so delicious in her life. She couldn't stop her chopsticks... and then the tears started falling.
The memory of her last proper meal was a blur. Since being kicked out and abandoned by her family, she had spent her days searching for scraps left by others. She had fought the cold in tattered rags and spent every night hiding from homeless men and villains who looked at her with predatory eyes. She moved from abandoned parks to filthy alleys, constantly on the run. The one time she had managed to pickpocket enough money for a cup of noodles, it had felt like a feast.
She was being worn down. She was exhausted. She had been on the verge of giving up on living entirely.
And then, Michikatsu had reached out his hand.
"Why... Why would someone like him be so kind to me?"
For a moment, she wondered if he wanted something from her body. But looking at a young master from such a wealthy family, the idea that he would want a filthy wanderer like her seemed like a ridiculous delusion.
After finishing every bite, she smoothed out the expensive yukata she had been given. Feeling the warmth of the room, she pinched her cheek, wondering if this was all a dream she was having in her final moments. It hurt.
"I am entering."
At the sound of the familiar voice, the screen door opened. Michikatsu, the man with the strange visage and six eyes, sat down across from her. He looked at her empty plates.
"If you are still hungry... you may have more."
"No... I'm fine. I've already taken too much..."
"I am giving this to you of my own volition... There is no need for you to feel burdened."
Himiko tried to decline, but Michikatsu insisted. Hesitantly, she mentioned she would like some more meat. Michikatsu immediately ordered the servants to bring another course.
"Um... What is your name?"
"Michikatsu Tsugikuni. Address me however you find comfortable."
"Okay... Tsugikuni-san... Why did you help me?"