Chapter Text
Taking a deep breath, Himiko fidgeted with a charm fastened on her belt. The acrylic keychain flickered in the light, making Utena’s rosy hair glow. Himiko smiled to herself – she’d been shocked about how Ochako had bought it for her at the cosplay convention considering how expensive merch is… but Ochako had said that no cost was too high for Himiko. She’s so perfect.
Practically swooning, Himiko almost crashed into Dad standing only a couple feet from her. The air in the bar crowded with mercenaries and criminals alike had gotten incredibly musty. Twice’s eyes twitched back and forth beneath a fabric mask he’d gotten from the broker working with the guy heralding the USJ attack.
Following her big brother’s gaze, Himiko’s eyes locked onto a guy with guns for fingertips. Clutching onto the knives in her pockets with determination, Himiko swung her braids over her shoulder and pressed her lips together. She mentally drew a diagram of the human body, recalling where the most efficient place to sever a finger was. She wasn’t taking any chances. Not when Ochako’s safety was at stake. Not when the girl who loved Himiko quirk and all was about to be ambushed by villains jetset on attacking students and teachers alike.
Gold eyes illuminated in the dark, Himiko surveyed her surroundings. Some pale guy in a hoodie kept scratching at his throat. This was supposed to be the leader, huh?
Tilting her head to the side, Himiko tried to picture the guy at the helm of an attack, but she just couldn’t see it. Then again, appearances had a habit of being deceiving. Plus, Himiko couldn’t deny that he had taste – the League of Villains had a ring to it and Himiko didn’t care that Dad thought it was a “f*cking stupid reference to a video game”.
Himiko tapped her chin. What was his name anyways? Shimuraki Tempura? No, that didn’t sound right. Shigmura Tomko? Nope, that wasn’t it either. Ah, he looked like a Shiggy that was probably close enough.
Smoke swirled a few feet away from Shiggy. As a misty bartender wiped down glasses at the counter, Himiko mused over how much his glowing yellow eyes resembled her own.
Licking her lips, Himiko wondered what it would be like to become him. Although, did Mist Man even have actual blood? Skipping across the hall, Himiko giggled to herself. There was only one way to find out.
Himiko hadn’t even made it two feet in the bartender’s direction when Dad grabbed her wrist, pulling her back. “Brat, this guy can literally turn you to dust.”
“And why should I be worried?” Himiko raised a brow. “Aren’t you perfectly capable of turning him to ashes?”
“Obviously. But I’m not really keen on getting burnt to a crisp.”
Darn, Dad’s flames would’ve looked really pretty and Himiko couldn’t help but wonder if Shiggy’s skin would’ve made funny crackling sounds because it was so dry. Alas, Himiko figured that it would have to remain a mystery for the time being. Then again, Dad’s fire would’ve made the bar a little warm. And it wasn’t like Himiko was keen on getting Dad sent to the ER. Especially since Dad being legally dead and all meant that the doctors would ask a lot of uncomfortable questions.
“Aww, your quirk drawback is such a bummer.”
Sighing, Dad ruffled Himiko’s hair. “Yeah it is, brat. Don’t do anything stupid out there.”
“I’ll be fine. After all, I’ve got you for help.”
As a portal of swirling smoke began to open at one end of the bar and Shiggy ushered villains toward the entrance, Himiko directly finger guns toward Twice.
“Big brother do your thing.”
Fumbling with his measuring tape, Himiko imagined Twice going bright red with embarrassment since she couldn’t see his face beneath his spandex suit. That broker Dad had gotten in contact with on short notice had really outdone himself. There was no way Twice would feel like he was about to split right down the middle with such a tight outfit holding him together.
Seconds after Twice held the measuring tape against Dad’s feet, an exact replica of a scarred man in a trenchcoat formed. Crossing his arms, Dad side-eyed his double. “Creepy bastard.”
“Like you’re one to talk, ugly,” Dad’s double snorted.
“Oh please, you’re just a cheap knockoff of the real deal.”
“Doesn’t make you any less of a disappointment to your old man.”
Sparks flashed in Dad’s eyes as he let a blue flame flicker on his palm. Grinning maniacally the double copied the gesture. Eyes going wide, Himiko stepped between the two of them in the knick of time.
“Save the fighting for fighting for the USJ, drug dealers or literally anyone other than yourself.” Himiko flashed a wide-toothed smile that would make Dad agree not necessarily to her every whim but at least a couple of them. “Okie dokie?”
“Fine,” Dad grumbled, closing his palm and extinguishing the flame with the double following suit. Rolling up the sleeve of his trenchcoat, Dad held out his wrist toward Himiko.
Himiko clapped her hands together as she zeroed in on Dad’s skin, making sure she didn’t accidentally get her fangs stuck in the staples. “Yummy! I’ve been dying to drink your blood, Dad.”
“Yeah, yeah. Hurry up already.”
“Tehehe. You really do care about me.”
Sinking her teeth into Dad’s flesh, Himiko reveled in the iron taste of blood melting on her tongue. She could taste undercurrents of charcoal and cigarettes as her face warped into Dad’s jawline. Throbbing ran under Himiko’s skin as staples stretched across her face. Spinning around in an exact copy of Dad’s coat, Himiko grinned wide enough to nearly pop a staple. Where her bio parents had hounded her for massacring a sparrow, Dad had given her the one thing she’d never expected.
A chance to become one of the people she loved.
Dad rolled his eyes as he nudged Himiko and his double toward the swirling entrance of the misty portal – but Himiko didn’t miss Dad’s ghost of a smile.
Stepping out through the other end of the portal, Himiko found herself staring at the ceiling. A dome seemed to stretch on infinitely. A fountain bubbled a handful of meters away from Himiko. A makeshift city stood tall in the distance. Himiko eyed the boat swimming across a gigantic pool of water and let out a whistle. UA sure was something else. Ochako was really living it up, huh?
With a crowd of villains in front of her Himiko tried to get a glimpse of the students in the distance to no avail. If only Dad’s body were a little bit taller, then maybe she’d have had a chance at taking a look at Ochako’s hero costume. She’d heard that it was pink – just like Ochako’s adorable rosy cheeks.
Instead of getting to marvel over how cute Ochako was, Himiko was stuck listening to Shiggy giving some boring speech. Bla, bla, bla destroy everything. Bla, bla, bla killing All Might. Himiko wished that he’d get on with it already so she could do something fun like stab someone.
Then, Shiggy said some keywords that made Himiko light up. Cupping a hand around her mouth, Himiko leaned in toward Dad and giggled,
“Ooh does he want to take down hero society? That’s totes cute! Vigitalism, stabbing, etcetera is more my cup of tea but I see the vision. Do you think he’s a big fan of Mr. Stainy too?”
As if on cue, Shiggy flashed his head around toward Himiko. “The f*ck?!”
While Shiggy reached out to retaliate, Dad stepped in front of Himiko and stared daggers at Shiggy. Spotting the smoke rising from Dad’s seams, Shiggy grumbled and faced the students again to continue his half-baked villain monologue.
“Brat, talk any louder like that and you’ll blow your cover,” Dad hissed.
“Whoopsie.”
Dad let out an aggrieved sigh. “I don’t f*cking say whoopsie.”
The staples in Himiko’s face pulled taunt as she flashed a grin in Dad’s direction when the scent of nitroglycerin filled the air. Dad gawked at some redhead and blonde kid torpedoing toward the wall of villains when smoke swirled around the hired fights, swallowing them whole.
Himiko’s stomach somersault as the mist faded and her head hit the gravel as she tumbled onto a dark room that reeked of moldy concrete. A staple had snagged on a large slab of rubble protruding out of the ground.
“Darn it,” Himiko cursed.
Wait, darn it wasn’t the kind of thing Dad would say – pressing her lips together that had warped into Dad’s singed ones Himiko decided to at least try to be a little more in character.
“God f*cking dammit!” Himiko screamed from the top of her lungs as she shook out the rubble from Dad’s cheaply dyed hair. Squinting through a dark hallway, Himiko wished that she’d retained at least a little of her night vision post-transformation – but oh well, can’t have it all.
Heavy footsteps sounded as the scent of nitroglycerin filled the air again. Reaching for her knives on instinct, Himiko barely sidestepped the burst of fire and smoke hurled in her direction. Seconds later the support beam that had been behind her crumbled. Close one. Himiko’s chest beat so loudly she could hear the blood rushing to her ears. If only Dad had a bit of heat resistance, then maybe Himiko wouldn’t have needed to worry so much. But she doubted heat resistance would’ve done much against the force of the blast.
Deep red eyes shone through the dark, as Blasty snarled at Himiko as a red-haired kid took a step in front of Blasty, mimicking a shield.
Staring at the redhead with skin turned into some material akin to stone, Hiimiko frowned as she pictured her blades potentially shattering on impact.
Gritting her teeth, Himiko slid her knives back into her trench coat pockets. Ochako’s classmates knew enough about Himiko… and possibly even her quirk… that the butterfly knives would’ve been a dead giveaway. Plus, what if she cut up Blasty and it turned out his blood was super pretty! Himiko couldn’t risk being distracted by Ochako’s beauty in the slightest.
Another explosion cascaded toward Himiko and she sidestepped it with the grace of a cat. She winched at how Dad’s scarred skin tugged at even the slightest motion. No wonder, Dad loved co*ke so much. Sure, Himiko knew that being old came with some pain – and being twenty-something was pretty ancient in Himiko’s humble opinion – but she was pretty sure that simply breathing wasn’t supposed to go hand in hand with an agonizing pressure.
Tapping her chin as she ducked beneath the red-haired boy’s fist, Himiko decided that she’d go track down a drug kingpin so she could get Dad a nice gift for Father’s Day. Too bad Dad refused to tell Himiko when his birthday was, depriving her of a perfectly good excuse to get more co*ke.
“Why aren’t you using your quirk, you bastard?! Think I’m too f*cking weak?!!!” Blasty screamed.
Holding up her hands innocently, Himiko tried to imitate Dad’s nonchalant drawl. “No, it’s just hurting kids is totally lame or whatever.”
Pops echoed on Blasty’s palms. “Oh so you’re looking down on me because I’m just a kid?! Is that it?!!! Well, screw you!!!”
Sprinting behind a collapsed wall as rubble burst around her and the red-haired kid swung a fist in her direction, Himiko gasped, “Wow. You sure give Da – I mean my temper a run for its money.”
“Di– Eat sh*t!” Blasty screamed. “I can’t f*cking believe I took advice from a villain. Half-decent advice – but from a f*cking villain?!!”
Scratching her head, Himiko stared back at Blasty. Blasty knew Dad? Had Dad made other friends while Himiko wasn’t looking? Coughing up dust as she raced away from the path explosions, Himiko grinned in satisfaction. Good for him – Dad could really use someone on the same wavelength in terms of his abrasive personality.
Winding down a hallway, Himiko tried to keep her footsteps light enough that Blasty couldn’t hear her. At least, she spotted a cavity in a wall – a perfect hiding spot to catch her breath for a minute. Instead, she spotted a lithe scarred figure curled up in the opening. The lack of white roots peeking out from black dye served as a dead giveaway that Himiko wasn’t the original.
Himiko waved at the double. “Hey, Dad 2.0. Mind doing me a solid?”
“Hell no. I’m not taking the fall with Blasty for you.”
Batting Dad’s surprisingly long eyelashes, Himiko clasped her hands and pouted at the double pleadingly. “But puh-lease. Don’t you love me? I know you’re just a double and all but you’ve still got to love your own kid, right?”
Dad’s shoulders slumped over slightly like they always did when he relented to Himiko. Pretty much a perfect copy. “f*cking fine.”
Giving the double a brief hug, Himiko raced over to a crumbling windowsill and started scaling the wall outside it. Arms held wide open Dad’s double stepped into the hallway. Biting down on her lip, Himiko averted her gaze because who wanted to see their dad turn into a pile of muck?
Explosions echoed as Blasty sped toward the hallway followed by his companion. Mere moments later a loud squelch sounded.
“What the f*ck?!!”
“Bakubro… I don’t think that was really him.”
“Yeah, seems like some cheapass knockoff,” Blasty hissed. “I’m going to give the real deal a piece of my mind the next time I see that asshole.”
Himiko snickered as she dug her nails into the crevices of the wall and made a slow descent. Dad sure had picked out an interesting kid to associate with. But onwards to more important priorities. Namely finding where Ochako was.
