I had requested sick leave.
Not for one or two days, but for a full four days during the week when the Class 1-A kids were frantically choosing Hero offices for their internships.
The reason I submitted to the school?
“Need time to adjust psychologically after the shock of the U.S.J.
incident.” It sounded reasonable, legitimate, and with the record of someone who always kept to himself in the corner of the classroom like me, Aizawa-sensei didn’t even bother questioning it further.
He only sent a short email: “Rest.
Don’t forget to submit your internship preference list to my email before Friday night.”
Perfect.
That meant I had four completely free days.
But rest?
That concept no longer existed in my dictionary right now.
I stayed home to conduct a mad experiment on my own body.
The goal was crystal clear: Force my matter-manipulation Quirk to reach the level of automatically synthesizing and granting immunity to Potassium Cyanide – KCN.
I wasn’t crazy enough to swallow pure poison.
The testing process was carried out with the most meticulous calculations a former chemistry student could devise.
20 milligrams.
That was the dose of KCN carefully measured on an electronic precision scale and sprinkled onto self-inflicted open wounds every 24 hours.
The mechanism was simple: Introduce the toxin into the bloodstream at my personal LD25 dosage to trigger the body’s defensive response, while continuously forcing my brain to use the Quirk to alter the molecular structure of the poison the moment it threatened to destroy cells.
Of course, I didn’t want to die pointlessly.
Several doses of Hydroxocobalamin – the specific cyanide antidote – were always loaded in syringes placed within immediate reach in case I accidentally lost control of my Quirk and began showing signs of respiratory failure.
Painful?
Yes.
Nauseous?
Constantly.
Wasteful?
Yeah, stuff bought through middlemen was never cheap.
But I had no time to complain.
There was only one variable that gave me a headache: Toga Himiko.
“Absolutely no biting me.
No licking.
No drinking even a single drop of my blood this entire week.
Understood?”
That was the order I issued on Monday morning.
Himiko puffed out her cheeks, sulked and rolled around on the bed, even clawed at my back with her nails in protest.
But I did not yield.
My blood right now was no different from a glass of lethal cocktail.
I could use my Quirk to neutralize it inside my own body, but if that girl drank it, her internal organs would rot within minutes.
“Be a good girl, Himiko.
I’m preparing to deal with the freaks coming next.
I don’t have time to clean up your corpse.”
…
Thursday afternoon.
The pale orange sunset light slanted through the gaps in the curtains, signaling another day about to end.
My body had begun to adapt to the cycle of absorbing, metabolizing, and expelling KCN from the bloodstream.
The throbbing pain in my bone marrow had decreased significantly.
I was sitting on the sofa, recording heart rate and blood oxygen levels when…
Ding-dong.
The doorbell rang clearly, shattering the silence of the apartment.
I frowned.
Who would come at this hour?
A delivery person?
I hadn’t ordered food.
Utility bill collector?
It wasn’t the day yet.
Ding-dong.
Ding-dong.
“Onodera-kun!
Are you home?”
A deep, enthusiastic, rule-abiding voice echoed through the door.
I slammed my notebook shut.
Fucking.
Ida Tenya.
And if he was here, then definitely…
“Onodera-san, we came to visit you!” Midoriya Izuku’s hesitant voice rang out.
“We brought fruit too!” Uraraka Ochako chimed in.
My pupils contracted.
The troublesome trio of Class 1-A.
Why the hell had they shown up at my place at this hour?!
Right I had been absent the entire week of internship selection.
Their “heroes who meddle in everything” nature would never leave it alone.
“Ryuu-kun~ Who’s outside?”
Himiko poked her head out from the kitchen, still holding a fruit-peeling knife, her voice sweet but already leaking killing intent.
“Go into the bedroom.
Lock the door.
Do not make a single sound until I call you.
Immediately!” I hissed, my mouth shape sharp and cold.
Himiko blinked, seeming to recognize the seriousness in my attitude.
She pouted, obediently put the knife away, and slipped straight into the bedroom.
Click.
The sound of the lock engaging.
I took a deep breath and scanned the living room.
Hydroxocobalamin syringe?
Already hidden under the sofa.
KCN notes?
Shoved into a cabinet gap.
Wound on my arm?
Wrapped in long-sleeved gauze.
Everything seemed perfect.
I exhaled in relief and walked over to turn the doorknob.
“Hello…”
I had just opened the door, putting on a fake exhausted expression, when three familiar faces hit my eyes.
Ida stood ramrod straight like a soldier, Izuku carried a basket of oranges, and Uraraka smiled brightly.
“Sorry for disturbing you while you’re resting, Onodera-kun!” Ida bowed at a perfect 90 degrees.
“As class representative, I couldn’t help worrying when you were absent all week!”
“I… I saw you weren’t coming to school and got worried you were seriously ill, so I invited everyone…” Izuku scratched his head, eyes full of genuine concern.
“Come in.
People will stare if you stand in the hallway.”
I clicked my tongue and stepped aside to let them in.
The three of them entered my cramped apartment.
“Your place is really tidy!” Uraraka looked around while taking off her shoes at the entrance.
“We bought…”
Uraraka’s sentence suddenly died in her throat.
She froze.
Her large round eyes blinked as she stared down at the floor.
Sensing the unusual silence, Izuku and Ida followed her gaze.
And then both boys also turned to stone.
Right there on the shoe rack.
Sitting prominently next to my sneakers was a pair of dark brown schoolgirl ballet flats – small, cute, with a bit of long-dried dirt still clinging to them.
Shit…
But that was only the beginning.
When Uraraka looked up, what slammed into her eyes—and the two boys’—was a mini drying rack placed in the sunniest corner of the living room.
On that rack… a schoolgirl sailor uniform was fluttering.
A loose beige cardigan sweater.
And right in the center, swaying gently with the air conditioner breeze, was a set of white women’s underwear.
Completely ordinary.
Completely basic.
Yet its destructive power against these three sixteen-year-old budding heroes was equivalent to a nuclear bomb.
Fuck me.
The entire room sank into a deathly silence.
My heart, which had just spent four days valiantly resisting cyanide, was now screaming to stop beating out of pure humiliation.
“Onodera… san…?” Izuku was the first to speak.
His voice trembled, face red as a ripe tomato, finger pointing at the drying rack.
“Th-This…”
“I CAN’T BELIEVE THIS!”
Ida Tenya suddenly shouted, both hands chopping the air rapidly like a short-circuiting machine.
“Onodera-kun!
Do you… do you have a cross-dressing hobby?!
And women’s underwear at that?!
This is completely unacceptable behavior for a male U.A.
student!!”
“Onodera-kun… please don’t tell us you stole someone’s underwear…?”
“That would be even worse, Uraraka-san!” Izuku clutched his head in panic.
“Stealing underwear is a crime!
Onodera-san, don’t tell me you were suspended because you got caught red-handed?!”
I stood frozen in place.
My jaw slightly dropped.
Thousands of scenarios raced through my head at light speed.
Say it belonged to a younger sister?
No, my U.A.
records clearly stated I was the eldest, and Saito and my beloved family had gone abroad long ago.
Say I found it?
Sounded like complete bullshit.
Say I liked cross-dressing?
I’d rather commit suicide with KCN.
Fine.
Whatever happens, happens.
I stepped forward, casually reached out, took the women’s underwear off the rack, folded it neatly, and put it into the laundry basket.
“Don’t jump to wild conclusions.” My voice dropped, cold yet mixed with the exhaustion of someone carrying too many secrets.
“I’m not cross-dressing.
And I’m not a pervert who steals underwear or anything.”
“Then… then those clothes…?” Izuku stammered.
I turned around and looked straight into their eyes.
“They belong to my girlfriend.
We’re living together.”
“…”
Silence.
An endless silence.
If a pin had dropped on the floor at that moment, it would have sounded like a thunderclap.
Izuku’s mouth hung open.
Ida stood frozen mid-chop.
Uraraka’s eyes widened, the hands covering her face slowly lowering.
“GIRLFRIEND?!!!”
All three shouted in unison, the volume nearly shattering the window glass.
“L-L-Living together?!
At sixteen?!” Ida stammered, glasses sliding down his nose.
“Illegal!
This behavior violates the pure customs of adolescents!
Onodera-kun, you…”
“Shut up and listen to me, Ida.” I snapped lightly, my gaze turning sharp enough to make him close his mouth immediately.
I walked to the sofa, plopped down, and clasped my hands under my chin.
I let the atmosphere settle a little, putting on the expression of someone backed into a corner and forced to reveal his darkest secret.
“She’s… in my bedroom.” I glanced toward the closed door.
“Your girlfriend… is here?” Uraraka swallowed, her voice tiny.
“Can we… say hello to her?”
“Don’t.” I cut in immediately.
“She doesn’t like meeting strangers.
There are… some very complicated reasons for this.”
I looked up at Izuku and sighed.
“Do you know why I’ve been so gloomy lately?
Why I voluntarily withdrew from the Sports Festival?
The U.S.J.
incident… it haunted me more than I expected.
There were nights when I just wanted to end myself to escape those nightmares.”
As expected, Izuku’s eyes immediately softened, replaced by empathy and pity.
“She was the only one who pulled me back.” I continued, my voice slightly hoarse.
“She left home because of family conflicts.
We happened to meet that night.
Two broken, lonely people who found each other in this rotten city.
She agreed to move in here and even… helped me ‘delay’ those self-harm thoughts.”
“Delay…?” Uraraka asked innocently.
I was silent for a second.
Then I slowly used one finger to pull down my collar just enough to reveal a vivid red hickey peeking out from under a bandage.
“In… hard-to-explain ways.” I said, expression unchanged.
“It made me realize I was still important to her.
Even if that method… was a bit unstable.”
Uraraka’s face exploded into a tomato.
She covered both cheeks with her hands, steam hissing from the top of her head as she took three steps back.
Izuku collapsed onto the floor, hands covering his face as he muttered: “Adult stuff… adult stuff… Onodera-san has done adult stuff…”
Ida’s face was red to the ears, but as class representative he still tried to hold himself together: “I-I… I understand.
But even so, having relations before the age of majority…”
“Ida.” I interrupted and looked straight at him.
“I know it’s hard to accept that I’m… more liberal than a typical U.A.
student.
But it was the only way both of us could heal each other…”
Ida fell silent.
He bit his lip and lowered his eyes.
“I’m telling you this because I don’t want you to think of me as a sick pervert.
But…” I clasped my hands together as if pleading – a gesture I rarely made.
“Please.
Keep this secret.
If everything comes out, they’ll send her to a reformatory, or worse, back home to be tormented again.
I don’t want her to suffer because of me.
I’m begging you.”
Friendship, pity, and inherent goodness.
The three vital points of Izuku’s group.
Izuku immediately stood up, expression extremely resolute.
“I understand, Onodera-san.
We won’t tell anyone!
Absolutely not!
The fact that you’re struggling with psychological trauma… we’ll respect the way you’re overcoming it.”
“R-Right!” Uraraka nodded rapidly, though her face was still flushed.
“We promise to keep it secret!
You just… um… keep doing your best!”
Ida sighed, pushing up his glasses.
“Even though I don’t fully agree, as a friend, I will remain silent.
However, you must promise not to do anything that crosses the line again!”
“I promise.” I nodded with an extremely “sincere” expression.
They left the basket of fruit, awkwardly gave a few more words of advice, then quickly withdrew, probably because the atmosphere was far too “adult” for their mindset.
The moment the door closed, I slumped onto the sofa.
Fucking hell, acting is more tiring than the KCN experiment.
Click.
The bedroom door opened.
Himiko stepped out wearing only one of my shirts, giggling.
“Well well~ ‘Girlfriend,’ huh~” She pounced and hugged my neck from behind.
“Ryuu-kun is so good at making excuses.
And ‘doing adult things to delay suicide’ too.
Anyone who heard that would be moved to tears~”
“Shut up.” I snapped, rubbing my twitching temple.
“If you were tidier, I wouldn’t have had to throw away my dignity like that.”
“But you already admitted I’m your girlfriend!” Himiko planted a loud kiss on my cheek, eyes sparkling.
“Yeah, fine.
You’re my small but troublesome girlfriend.”
I peeled Himiko’s arms off and walked to the cabinet, taking out a small bottle of solution.
It was time to check the results of these four days of hell.
I made a small cut on my fingertip and sprinkled another LD25 dose of pure KCN on it.
One second.
Two seconds.
No burning sensation.
No chest tightness.
By activating the Quirk the instant the toxin entered, my blood had automatically restructured, absorbed, and neutralized the KCN—and could even enrich and concentrate the toxin in my blood if I wanted.
I had succeeded.
I had become a living biological weapon capable of producing, neutralizing, and temporarily immunizing against cyanide.
I bandaged my finger and turned to look at Himiko, who was sitting on the sofa swinging her legs.
“Himiko.
Come here.”
She obediently jumped down and walked over to stand in front of me.
“This weekend I’m going for an internship in Hosu City.
And you’ll have to do something for me.”
“Boring.” Himiko pouted.
“You’re going to leave me home alone for a whole week?
I’ll go crazy.
I want to go with you!”
“That’s exactly what I intend for you to do.” I placed both hands on her shoulders, my tone becoming absolutely serious.
“Tomorrow, you’ll drink some of my stored blood from the fridge to transform into me.
You’ll go to Hosu City one day ahead of me, use the name Onodera Ryuga to rent a closed room at a cheap inn with poor security—the worse the better.”
Himiko’s eyes blinked as she began to understand.
“You want me to be bait?
Or a decoy?”
“Both.
When I arrive in Hosu, we’ll have a safe base outside school surveillance.
I have some plans that need to be carried out in that city.”
Himiko wrinkled her nose.
She crossed her arms and looked dissatisfied.
“Hell nah.
Having to transform into you, having to rent a room, having to hole up in some rundown inn and be away from you for a whole day… Danger aside, I hate being away from you.
What do I get in return?”
She stood on tiptoe, pressed her face close to mine, her golden eyes flashing with cunning and hunger.
I already knew she would demand something.
With Toga Himiko, every order was meaningless without a reward.
And I knew exactly which reward would make her obediently submit.
I leaned down, breathing against her ear, and whispered in the deepest, most hoarse voice.
“If you do well… Throughout the entire week in Hosu, every time I return to the inn…” I paused for a beat, feeling Himiko’s excited shiver.
“…you can do anything you want to me.
Any.
Thing.”
Himiko’s breath suddenly caught.
Her pupils dilated to the maximum.
“Anything?” she repeated, voice trembling with extreme excitement.
“Tie you up?
Bite you?
Drain your blood until you pass out?”
“Yep.” I looked straight into her eyes and coldly sealed the deal, even though I knew exactly what that meant.
Himiko bit her lower lip hard, both cheeks flushed crimson.
Her initial hesitation was completely crushed by frenzied desire.
She threw her arms around me, nails digging into the back of my shirt.
“Fine then!” she hissed through her teeth, giggling like a madwoman.
“Prepare yourself, Ryuu-kun~ The week in Hosu is going to be the sweetest hell of your life!”