(Toga is 24 and Jin is 26)
The fluorescent lights of the DNA testing lab hummed, a monotonous drone that echoed the exhaustion thrumming through my veins. It had been weeks since Anna was born, weeks of sleepless nights, mountains of laundry, and the constant, low-grade anxiety that gnawed at me. Y/N's empty side of the bed was a stark reminder of his absence, a gaping hole in our little family. A "world-wide mission," he'd called it. A hero's duty. I'd understood, of course, but understanding didn't make the loneliness any easier to bear.
Hiku, bless his little heart, was a whirlwind of chaotic energy and unwavering love. At six, he was already showing signs of his quirk – tiny, crimson threads dancing around a scraped knee, knitting the skin back together. My own blood manipulation felt like a distant memory, a relic from a life I was desperately trying to bury.
Working as a DNA tester was… ironic, I supposed. Years ago, I craved blood for the thrill, the power. Now, I craved it for the paycheck. It was a clean, if unfulfilling, job, and it allowed me to provide for my children. But juggling the demands of motherhood with a demanding schedule was pushing me to my limit. I missed the thrill of the League, the camaraderie, even the madness. But I banished the thought as quickly as it came. That life was over. This was my penance, my redemption.
One particularly draining Tuesday, as I was hunched over a particularly stubborn blood sample, a familiar voice startled me.
"Well, well, well… look what the cat dragged in!"
I looked up, my heart leaping into my throat. Standing in the doorway, grinning nervously, was Twice. His mask was different, sleeker, maybe a little less… chaotic than I remembered.
"Jin?" I breathed, my voice barely a whisper.
He shuffled his feet, his usual bravado faltering. "Himiko? Wow, you… you look… different. Good different, of course! But also… tired."
"It's been a while," I said, trying to steady my voice. "What brings you here?"
He held up a small, sealed container. "Need some testing done. New alloy I'm working with. But… seeing you here… it's… unexpected. Are you… happy?"
The word hung in the air, heavy with unspoken questions. Happy? Was I happy? I looked around my small, cluttered office, at the baby monitor perched precariously on a stack of files, at the framed picture of Hiku smiling innocently.
"I'm trying," I said, the truth ringing hollow even to my own ears.
Twice's expression softened. "I… I heard about Y/N. Tough break. He always was a glory hound, even if he didn't think so himself." He paused, then added, "Listen, Himiko, if you need anything… anything at all… just let me know. We… we look out for each other, right?"
The "we" hung in the air, a ghostly echo of our past.
Over the next few weeks, Twice became a lifeline. He'd come by after work, his arms laden with groceries, his voice a constant, comforting presence. He was working at a weapon design company now, he explained, designing support gear for heroes. The irony wasn't lost on me, but I was too grateful to care. He'd spend hours entertaining Hiku with silly stories and outlandish gadgets, while I finally got a chance to sleep, or just… breathe.
He was surprisingly good with Anna. He'd hold her gently, his large hands surprisingly delicate, murmuring soft nonsense in his split-personality voice. Sometimes he'd look at me, a flicker of something unreadable in his eyes.
One evening, after putting Anna down for the night, we were sitting in the living room, the only light coming from the flickering television screen. Hiku was asleep upstairs, dreaming of superheroes and villains, oblivious to the complex emotions swirling in the room below.
"You know," Twice said softly, "You're doing a great job, Himiko. Really. You're a good mom."
The words hit me like a punch to the gut. Tears welled in my eyes, and I couldn't stop them from spilling down my cheeks.
"I… I don't know what I'm doing, Jin," I choked out. "I'm scared. I'm so scared."
He reached out, his hand hovering hesitantly before finally resting on mine. His touch was warm, comforting.
"It's okay to be scared," he said, his voice low and soothing. "You're not alone, Himiko. You're not alone anymore."
We sat in silence for a long moment, the unspoken words hanging heavy in the air. Then, slowly, hesitantly, he leaned in. I met his gaze, my heart pounding in my chest. It had been so long since I'd felt… anything besides exhaustion and fear. This felt different.
His lips were soft, tentative at first, then growing bolder. I closed my eyes and let myself melt into the kiss, a wave of conflicting emotions washing over me – guilt, longing, hope. It felt… good. Too good.
We broke apart, breathless. The silence stretched, thick and heavy.
"I…" Twice started, but I cut him off.
"Don't," I said, my voice trembling. "Don't say anything."
He nodded, understanding flickering in his eyes. He stood up, his shoulders slumped slightly.
"I should go," he said quietly.
"Okay," I whispered.
He paused at the door, then turned back. "Himiko… I care about you. A lot. But… I understand if this is too much. Just… don't shut me out. Please."
And then he was gone.
I stood there for a long time, staring at the empty doorway. I knew what was happening. I was falling for him. Again? It was the only possible way to describe it. After all those years, the betrayal, the chaos, Jin had given me a glimmer of hope, a reason to believe that maybe, just maybe, I could have a normal life.
Now what?
Later that week, another problem arrived. Hiku had been sent home from school. He said he was feeling sick, but the school nurse told me he had passed out during recess. I rushed him to the hospital and ran a series of tests.
The doctor came into the room with a grim face. "Mrs. Toga, Hiku has been diagnosed with a rare blood disorder. It's making his quirk unstable."
"What does that mean?" I asked.
"His blood is deteriorating rapidly. He needs transfusions constantly, but there is no long term solution. Without a blood transplant, he..." The doctor trailed off.
My world started to spin. A blood transplant? Where would I even begin? The process, the donors, the cost... it was all too overwhelming. My quirk was useless here, and my lack of connections to anyone outside of Jin made me feel helpless.
Suddenly, I heard a voice in my head that I hadn't heard in years. It was the voice of the League, the voice of chaos and destruction, the voice that whispered promises of power and control.
We can help you, Himiko. You know we can. All you have to do is ask.
I pushed the voice away, disgusted. I wouldn't go back to that life. I couldn't. But as I looked at my son sleeping peacefully in his hospital bed, a seed of doubt began to grow. What else could I do?
I picked up my phone, my hand shaking. I scrolled through my contacts until I found the number I had been avoiding for years. I took a deep breath and pressed call.
As the phone rang, I closed my eyes and prayed. Prayed for a miracle, prayed for a way out, prayed for the strength to do what was right, even if it meant sacrificing everything. The old Toga might have relished the irony of my situation, but the new me, the mother, was terrified of all the choices awaiting me.