“Toga Himiko.” I called her name, my voice hoarse and weak, but trying to remain calm.
Her cat-like eyes widened, their gaze fixed on me with curiosity, like a child observing a butterfly pinned to a board.
“Oh?
You dare call my name in this situation?” She tilted her head, a mischievous smile playing on her lips.
“Interesting.
What are you thinking, cutie pie?
Want to say your last words?”
Now, I had only one thing left to use: the truth.
Not the truth about the future, not the truth about the plot.
But the truth about myself.
“I love you,” I said in a low voice, with all the sweetness I could muster.
The atmosphere in the room seemed to freeze.
Toga stopped moving the knife.
Her cat-like eyes widened, a fleeting look of astonishment crossing them.
Then she laughed – a clear, sweet laugh, but one full of mockery.
“Love me?” she repeated, as if the word were strange.
“You just tied me up, locked me in a dark room, gave me blood and alcohol to drink, and now you say you love me?
Are you insane?”
“Yes,” I answered, without hesitation.
“I didn’t deny it.”
Toga raised an eyebrow.
The knife now moved slightly away from my left eye, and her gaze had changed.
It was no longer the simple look of a predator, but the curiosity of someone who had found a…strange prey.
“I love you,” I repeated.
“That’s why I tied you up.
That’s why I kept you in my apartment.
That’s why I did all of that.
I wanted to keep you all to myself.”
The words came out of my mouth, and I honestly didn’t know if I was telling the truth anymore.
It didn’t matter, whether it was true or not didn’t matter anymore.
What mattered was whether she believed it or not.
“That sounds romantic,” Toga giggled.
“But you know what?
I once loved someone.
And I stabbed him to death.
Would you want me to do the same to you?”
“Stop bluffing.
My brother hasn’t dead yet, and I don’t want to die either,” I said honestly.
“But if you kill me, do it as a lover, not as an enemy.”
Toga frowned.
This wasn’t the reaction she expected.
She was used to fear, used to resistance.
But this acceptance, this calmness, made her feel utterly bewildered.
“You’re truly insane,” she said, but her tone had lost its threat.
Now it sounded more like a comment than an accusation.
“Maybe,” I agreed.
“But do you know why I’m crazy?”
I slowly reached my still-functioning right hand for the phone on the bedside table.
Toga didn’t stop me, perhaps out of curiosity, or perhaps because she knew I was too weak to do anything dangerous.
I opened the recording app, found a file I’d recorded long ago: a recording I’d kept during moments of weakness as a reminder of my loneliness.
“Listen,” I said, pressing play.
The recording began.
A middle-aged woman’s voice, full of indifference, came from the phone’s speaker:
“Ryuga-kun, we have heard about the incident.
Are you alright?
We’ve been working abroad for too long to visit you.
Your younger brother is still in shock, so I have to stay here to take care of him.
Take care of yourself; Japan might be better for you.
Oh, I’ll send you some money, enough to cover the hospital bills, but you’ll have to manage the rest yourself…”
The voice continued, but I didn’t need to hear any more.
I hung up and looked straight into Toga’s eyes.
“See?” I asked, my voice beginning to tremble shamefully.
“I hate being abandoned too.
I know what it feels like to be left behind.”
Memories of my past life, of those long, lonely days in that dark room, flooded back like a tsunami.
I tried to bury those memories, but they were always there, waiting for a moment of weakness to surface and keep me awake every night.
“I left you alone in my apartment for a few days without letting you know,” I continued.
“I’m sorry for that.
If I hadn’t been like this, perhaps we could have talked in the way we both wanted.”
Toga looked at me.
Her eyes were no longer cold.
Something else had appeared there, a wavering, a precariousness.
…
Inside Toga Himiko’s mind, chaos was brewing, threatening to erupt.
She had come here with a single goal: revenge on the bastard who had kidnapped her, humiliated her, tied her up and imprisoned her, and then tried to manipulate her.
He had worn Saito’s clothes – the first man she loved, the first man whose blood she drank, and the man he called “little brother” – to strike at her weak point.
He had made her feel like an animal trapped in a cage.
All she wanted was to put the knife to his throat and feel his blood flow through her fingers.
But now…
now she wasn’t so sure anymore.
She had killed many people.
She had seen fear in their eyes, heard their pleas.
But no one, or rather, not a single person, had ever told her they loved her.
Not when she was threatening them.
Not with a knife to their throats.
This man, he was truly insane.
But she realized one thing: his madness was no different from her own.
Throughout her life, she had been called a monster.
Her family, society, everyone feared and abhorred her because of her bloodthirsty nature, influenced by her Quirk.
They said she was sick, deviant, cursed.
They tried to fix her, suppress her, force her to become normal.
But this bastard, it was clear he wasn’t trying to fix her.
He wasn’t trying to change her.
He imprisoned her, bound her, but he also gave her blood to drink, said things she’d never heard before.
He accepted her for who she was.
He even “loved” her.
She hated him.
She truly hated him.
But at the same time, a part of her wanted to believe him.
Because if he was telling the truth, it meant there was someone in this world who wasn’t afraid of her.
A twisted monster willing to accept the other twisted monster inside her.
Toga bit her lip.
The knife was still in her hand, but it felt heavier than anything she had ever held.
In that moment, he saw the hesitation in her eyes.
And he knew what he needed to do.
“I can prove it,” Ryuga said, his voice more even.
Toga tilted her head.
“Prove what?”
“That my feelings for you are serious.”
With that, he moved his intact right hand up, gripping her thumb tightly and biting down hard.
His teeth gnashed into her flesh until she could feel the warm metallic taste of blood in her mouth.
The sharp pain made him wince, but he didn’t give up.
He gritted his teeth harder, tearing at the flesh, letting blood trickle from his finger.
Then, without a word, Ryuga brought his bleeding finger to Himiko’s mouth.
Toga’s eyes widened.
Her breathing quickened.
They were now only an arm’s length apart.
The pungent smell of blood assaulted her nostrils, a summoning of her most primal instincts.
She had never seen this before.
He hadn’t just given her blood to manipulate her; now, not only was he unafraid of death, he was offering it – his life and his blood – to her as a proposal in the dimly lit hospital room.
“This?” Toga whispered, her voice trembling slightly.
“You…
you really intend to trust me?”
Ryuga didn’t answer.
Instead, he just looked at her, letting the blood from his thumb drip down, drop by drop.
The silence gradually lasted a few seconds, then a few dozen seconds, and finally two full minutes.
Then, like a subdued beast, Toga lowered her head slightly.
Not to attack, not to threaten.
She slowly brought her lips closer to his finger and began to lick.
She sucked, licked, moaned, and greedily but not wastefully, as if his blood were her only source of life.
He clearly felt the warmth, softness, and wetness from her mouth.
Everything, from the two pairs of sharp fangs, the stinging sensation from his bitten finger as Himiko gently sucked the blood flowing from his bite, to the satisfaction and the strange expression clearly visible on her face, was etched into his memory in this fateful moment.
Pleasure?
Excitement?
Or the joy of a child receiving a new toy?
Ryuga didn’t know.
And he didn’t care, because his concern at that moment was Himiko savoring him like a fine drink to be savored little by little.
He knew he had fallen for her, for her crazy yet captivating nature, for her innocent yet extremely dangerous childlike innocence.
And he fully understood that his plan to manipulate Himiko had now succeeded brilliantly, but also failed miserably, as he could no longer deceive his own heart.
But at least this time, he hoped he would lose…
…
When she stopped, her lips were stained blood, and she smirked, a slightly maniacal smile.
“It’s so delicious~,” she said, her voice becoming sweeter and gentler.
“The taste of your blood…
the taste of loneliness and wildness.
You really aren’t normal.”
I nodded, breathing a sigh of relief.
“I never said I was normal.”
Toga giggled, and this time, the smile seemed…more genuine.
“You’re truly insane,” she whispered, but there was admiration in her voice.
“Perhaps…even crazier than me.”
I rolled my eyes.
“Maybe.
But at least I haven’t licked or sucked someone while naked.
Not yet.”
Toga laughed loudly, and in that instant, the knife finally left my throat.
She set it down, then sat up straight on top of me, still completely naked, with blood splattered on her lips.
But the atmosphere had changed.
It was no longer a deadly threat; it had become something strange and bizarre.
“I’m Toga Himiko,” she said, a wide grin spreading across her face.
“And I…
I think I’m starting to like you.”
I smiled weakly.
“Onodera Ryuga.
Nice to meet you.”
Toga laughed loudly, her face flushing red, a laugh that was both childish and insane.
And so we started talking, like two equal lovers, without any coercion between us anymore.
Everything, from small everyday stories to how our first murders happened, was discussed like casual conversations between a couple in love.
And to be honest, besides her craziness, she was very open-minded, even swearing sometimes.
I’d never felt so comfortable talking to anyone…
It made me happy.
Very happy.
Because at least I wasn’t truly alone in this world of capes, supes and glory.
Was this love?
I didn’t know.
But at this moment, it felt real.
We both implicitly agreed not to talk about each other’s pasts, simply because neither of us had truly moved on from them.
But there was one thing we did do together.
Sleep.
Or rather, lie in bed together.
She, perhaps feeling safe lying next to me, slept soundly and deeply afterward.
As for me?
No.
I couldn’t sleep at all.
On this single-person bed, sharing space was incredibly difficult.
And it was infinitely harder lying next to a naked girl, even hugging her.
It’s true that I transmigrated here, so my actual age is older than these teenagers, but it’s only a difference between 16 and 21.
I’m still just a young man, so that “difficult” matter really gave me a headache.
That soft feeling, the faint scent of blood and wildflowers, and the soft breathing in this empty hospital room, it was truly the most horrific form of torture…
…
I don’t know when I dozed off, but by the time I woke up, it was already late afternoon.
My whole body felt inexplicably weak, and my lower lip stung as if it were torn.
Himiko must have left long ago.
The fact that I’m still alive means she’ll come here again.
Naked.
And maybe do something even crazier than yesterday.
My right thumb is bandaged with a small bandage, and there’s a bloodstain that looks like a clear lip mark on it.
Needless to say, someone put it on.
Oh, and the diaper.
The nurse probably changed it this morning while I was still fast asleep in bed this morning.
Even the blanket was pulled up to my hips to cover what needed covering and to keep my stomach warm.
How thoughtful.
But why does the blanket smell so strange?
Never mind.
It’s probably just the laundry detergent…