BNHA: I am Reiji Toga

The sizzle of the fish in the pan competed with the faint murmur of filtered water dripping into the kettle. The smell of cooking rice permeated the kitchen like a silent routine Reiji had adopted out of habit… or necessity. Everything seemed in order. Everything seemed calm. And yet, his mind wasn't.

With his apron tied over his dark T-shirt and his uniform pants still loosely fitted, Reiji kept his gaze lowered, focused on the precise cut of the knife through the pickled radishes. He wasn't thinking about anything, a new luxury since his exposure rest period… Or so Hawks had told him afterward.

Footsteps on the stairs pulled him out of that forced calm.

When he turned around, Himiko was already coming down.

Her still-damp blonde hair fell over her shoulders as she dabbed it with a white towel. She was wearing her U.A. uniform, but there was something else about her. The navy blue jacket gently outlined her silhouette, and the red bow at her neck seemed to shine even more brightly on her pale skin, almost translucent in the morning light. Her thighs peeked out from under her skirt with a firmness that spoke of weeks of real exercise. Her back was erect, her gait calm, her golden eyes alight with a new glow.

Himiko Toga was beautiful.

Not in a vulgar or affected way. It was that beauty that grew in silence, that manifested itself with maturity, with determination, and with the recent training that was beginning to show. With each year, it became more evident.

Reiji returned his gaze to the pan without saying anything. The salmon was already cooked to perfection.

"Smells good," Himiko said, dropping the towel over the back of a chair. She sat down with precise, comfortable, and familiar movements.

"It's ready," he replied, serving the dishes with almost mechanical efficiency.

"Are you going to join me at the festival this year?"

"Yes."

"Really?"

"I promised," he said, finally looking at her.

She nodded, but didn't seem entirely satisfied with the answer.

"I trained hard this time. More than last year. Even with you. I never thought you'd agree."

"You said you wanted to stand out."

"I want to," she stated with a hint of pride. "The first year's festival was... boring. I didn't do my best. I was feeling confused. But this... this one's going to be different."

"Just because of the festival?"

She hesitated for a split second. She noticed. Then she smiled.

"Of course... Besides, this year everyone will be staring at me because of you. I've been relegated to being the sister of the boy who saved a life from the clutches of a villain. I want them to see me and recognize me for who I am."

Reiji held her gaze for a few seconds.

He was lying. Not completely. But enough. Clearly, that wasn't the only reason. If it were up to her, anything that connected him would make her extremely happy... Even now when I mention how they knew her!

However... he didn't judge her.

"Then prepare for everyone to stare," he said simply with a small smile.

She lowered her gaze, barely blushing. Then she changed the subject naturally.

"How are you? Is everything okay at your high school?"

"Calmer than before," he replied, washing the utensils. "I guess that's good."

"As long as no one gets their claws on you," she said softly, as if she were saying it to herself.

Reiji didn't hear very well, but preferred to leave it at that.

He walked her to the door. Himiko adjusted her backpack and looked at him before crossing the threshold.

"I'm going to give it my all, Reiji. This time for real."

"I know."

She smiled. That smile he knew well: it wasn't a happy smile. It was a silent declaration of something he couldn't say out loud.

And she left.

Reiji went back inside. His high school was much closer, so he'd be out a few minutes later. This was his routine... his new routine.

***

The bell rang like every morning, without emotion, announcing the start of classes at Musutafu. For most, time had moved on. Seasons changed, assignments piled up, and the routine repeated itself. But for Reiji, the calendar seemed stuck in a single moment: that day, more than a month ago, when he was unveiled.

And even though the world moved on, the rumors refused to die.

"Did you see how he moved? Not even the heroes dared to come near..."

"It was weeks ago, but I still see him in my head. That look..."

"He looks cuter every day. Or is it just me?"

The voices lowered their pitch as he passed. Some pretended not to see him; others stared at him brazenly. It didn't matter. For Reiji, the hallway was a walkway he hadn't asked for.

He walked forward with a firm step, backpack slung over his shoulder, his expression neutral. As if he didn't hear anything. As if the constant murmur didn't touch him. But every word filtered through. Every glance weighed heavily.

He wore his uniform with millimetric carelessness: his jacket open, his shirt tucked in, but with the collar barely loose. His hair, a mix of pale blonde and light brown, was slightly tousled, and his orange eyes, dull but alert, as if measuring the temperature of everything around him.

He had changed. Not just on the inside. His face had become more refined. His body, hardened by training. His aura, if such a thing existed, had grown denser.

When he arrived at the classroom, he wasn't the first to enter, but he was the first to be noticed. Several glances averted their gaze. Some out of respect. Others out of fear. Many, out of pure curiosity.

A classmate, who hadn't spoken to him before, approached him.

"Reiji... are you coming with us for lunch today?"

He looked at her without hostility, but with the calm of someone who already knew the answer.

"I prefer to eat alone. Sorry, Hirioka," he said, remembering the girl's name; she was in his class. Just because they'd never spoken didn't mean he knew her.

The girl nodded, somewhat nervously, and left with a smile at the small detail he knew existed, even though she'd turned him down.

He sat by the window. Always the same chair. Always the same gesture: arms crossed, staring into the distance. As if looking for something outside the classroom. Or someone.

Shinso arrived shortly after, his classic headphones dangling from his neck and a face that didn't interest him at all. Without saying a word, he plopped down in the chair next to Reiji.

A few seconds passed before the purple-haired man spoke:

"It's incredible how a month can go by so quickly."

"Quickly?"

"Yeah, maybe you were exhausted after the incident, and it seemed like a long time to you. But to them, it was yesterday. And as long as you don't do something bigger, that will be your legacy."

Reiji gave a short laugh. Neither sarcastic nor genuine. Just tired.

"I don't want to leave a legacy."

"Then you should have let that boy die," he blurted out, though it wasn't as if he was condoning that comment.

"I can't do that."

"And that's why you're caught between two worlds. You're not a hero. But you're not a simple student either."

"And why are you so philosophical?"

Shinso stared straight ahead, as if the answer were written on the blackboard.

"I don't know, I just watched the news again about what happened that day and the thoughts flowed."

The conversation stopped when the teacher entered. But their gazes didn't. They remained fixed on Reiji as if they expected him to get up and fly out the window. Or to unleash an unexpected Quirk in the middle of class.

An absurd expectation... but constant.

Shinso murmured, almost without moving his lips:

"Are you going to the festival?"

"Yes." This year I'll be there."

"For Himiko?"

Reiji didn't answer. He just looked at his notebook. Then, he said in a very low voice:

"Yes, I promised her this time."

Shinso leaned back in his seat, as if he didn't want to admit he understood. But he did.

And silently, like two loose pieces on a larger board, they both prepared for what was to come.

***

The afternoon had stretched out peacefully. Reiji walked down one of Musutafu's less-traveled streets, his backpack slung over his shoulder and his shirt collar slightly unbuttoned in the heat. Training with Shinso had been productive, if exhausting. He was thinking about what to cook that evening when he noticed a figure across the street.

A woman.

Tall, elegant. Long, pale hair, parted to the left side. Her gait was relaxed, almost floating, and her expression... curious.

"Are you Reiji Toga?" she asked in a soft voice, suffused with an almost playful tone.

Reiji stopped dead in his tracks. He frowned slightly. His instincts kicked in immediately, as they always did when something didn't add up.

"Who's asking?" he replied in a neutral, firm tone.

She smiled. Her full lips curved with a strangely charming grace. Her eyes, black sclera, irises shining like lanterns in shadows, studied him with clinical attention.

"Chitose Kizuki. Freelance journalist. I work for Shinka Publishing. You may not know her; we're not in the mainstream scene... for now."

She gave a small bow, informal but precise. She had a notebook under her arm, though she didn't take it out.

"And what do you want from me?"

"An interview," she said bluntly, as if it were the most natural thing in the world.

Reiji looked away for a moment, visibly uncomfortable. There were no cameras, microphones, or other people in sight. But it all seemed too... clean.

"I don't give interviews," she replied in a dry, almost cutting tone.

"And yet, you never fail to attract attention," she murmured with an ambiguous smile. "A student with no track record, with an unknown Quirk, involved in a large-scale public event... and wanting nothing in return. That, Reiji, is more interesting than any poster boy."

"As I said, I'm not interested."

"Sometimes, interest isn't sought, it's sown," she replied softly. "And sooner or later, it sprouts. Like things that don't fit in small pots do."

Reiji raised an eyebrow. Chitose took a step closer and pulled out a business card. White, unadorned, just her name and a contact number.

"Sometimes the system leaves out those who could most change it. I like talking to people who don't quite fit. They often have stories no one dares to tell."

She offered it to him, but when he didn't take it, she simply slipped it into the outer pocket of her backpack with the precision of someone who has done it many times before.

"I don't expect you to call me. But if one day you decide your story deserves to be heard... you'll know where to find me."

She turned calmly, but before walking away, she glanced over her shoulder. Her gaze shone with a deeper tone.

"There are those who believe the world should revolve around imposed rules. Others of us believe the world should revolve freely... even if we have to break a few things to achieve that goal."

Reiji watched her silently. He didn't respond. She smiled once more and disappeared into the crowd, as if she'd never been there.

A slight chill ran down his spine. He didn't know who she was or what she stood for; he'd probably forgotten... And that gave him a very bad feeling.

***

The sun was already setting when Reiji arrived at the backyard of the old building where Mei Hatsume had set up her improvised portable workshop. It wasn't U.A., but the place had all the same charm: tools scattered on the floor, disassembled drone parts, and a dozen magnifying glasses hanging from a line like clothes.

"You're just in time!" Mei exclaimed without looking up from her workbench. "I was about to accidentally set everything on fire. Again."

Reiji raised an eyebrow, now accustomed to the chaos that surrounded Mei like a personal electromagnetic field.

"Don't worry. It wouldn't be the first time..."

"That's it! That's why I love you... well, I love working with you. Don't give me that look, it was just an expression," she said, turning to him with an oil-stained, toothy smile. "You're my favorite guinea pig, you know that?"

Reiji approached slowly. The smell of burnt metal and fresh welding wafted through the air. She wore a pair of mechanics' overalls tied around her waist, revealing a stained, tight-fitting white T-shirt that left little to the imagination. Sweat plastered pink strands to her forehead, and her intense, focused eyes seemed more alive than ever.

"What do you want me to try now?"

"This baby!" she shouted excitedly as she pulled out a small device.

Mei approached with a device that looked like a thick bracelet, made of opaque metal, with exposed wires and a small translucent battery attached to the side.

"This baby is a side-thrust thruster. Version 5. I designed it to provide thrust for short distances, ideal for urban combat or quick evasion. But it still overheats. I need to know how it reacts in real motion, with someone to hold it if something goes wrong."

"You want me to put it on and run?" Reiji asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Yes! Well, walk first. I want to measure your temperature with the sensors. But if you catch fire, let me know before you regenerate, okay? I want to record the whole process."

He quickly adjusted it, without asking permission. His fingers touched Reiji's skin without hesitation, with the familiarity of someone who treats a body as part of their laboratory. Reiji said nothing, though he felt the contact. Mei was focused, her face pressed against the device, her eyes strangely focused.

"You never stop inventing, don't you?" he murmured, more like a thought out loud.

"Of course not! Ever since I saw you in that technical test, something clicked in my head," he said, without looking up. "I don't know if it was the explosion, your regeneration, or your serious face... but it gave me a crazy idea and I had to build it. Now I can't stop."

"So I'm a walking creative spark?"

"Don't exaggerate. But you're tough, weird, and you don't ask annoying questions. A perfect subject! And you don't explode... too much."

Reiji let out a dry laugh.

"So far."

"So far!" she repeated enthusiastically.

He finished adjusting the last few locks and gently patted the metal.

"Don't use it on the street, just for temperature testing. If it doesn't melt, we'll test it in real motion tomorrow."

"Understood. Do you want me to return it afterward?"

"Yes, but don't wash it! I want to see the residue from use. Oh, and if there's an electric shock, don't scream, it ruins the audio."

"You're a clinical case."

"I already knew that!"

Mei stepped back with a grease-stained smile.

Despite him being practically a test subject for Mei's experiments, she did care about him, and the devices weren't powerful enough to cause major damage. This reminded Reiji of his past life, and the stark contrast in their behavior...

Being an experiment in the right kind of person was... Comforting, even fun.

Before leaving, he looked over his shoulder at her.

"See you at the festival."

"Record everything! Especially if your sister breaks something."

Reiji didn't reply. But this time, his smile lasted longer than usual.