>Frown. Frown. C'mon, c'mon keep frowning!

It’d been so easy. UA’s security really is pathetic; even with the League’s increased and blatant presence in their affairs, UA couldn’t possibly protect every student. They’d tried, sure. Toga’s first choice of targets had been infuriatingly out of reach, and no amount of pleading and whining had convinced Shigaraki to let her slink closer to little Tsuyu or Uraraka. He hadn’t cared about their budding friendship or how cute she’d look, clad in their mock-skin and with their blood on her lips - only about what was prudent. Only that she not get caught.

The small-fry first-year that had stumbled into Toga’s trap isn’t nearly as charming, but she’d served her purpose well enough. High little shrieks and skin that parted smoothly beneath the kiss of Toga’s knife had been delightful, but her face had been nothing short of horrendous. What had her Quirk been, super zit growth?

Still, maybe looking extra pathetic had helped. No one had shot her a curious look when Toga had flounced onto school property, and her target hadn’t initially even bothered giving her a second glance.

Bakugou Katsuki. The one that got away.

From Shigaraki, at least. His personality’s unpleasant, really; personally, Toga would have rather had quivering little Deku nailed to her bedroom wall if they were picking ideal captures. Bakugou’s what Shigaraki wants though – at least his image.

If the real Bakugou won’t join them now, then a reputation in tatters might do the trick. Who can say no when their face is plastered all over the Most Wanted signs?

Uh-oh. A smile coming up.

Toga covers her face with one hand, screwing up her eyes as if to scowl; she peeks at her reflection in the nearby window, and Bakugou’s scrunched up face stares back at her.

No good. Just looks like he’s constipated.

Honestly, Bakugou’s blood had been even easier to get than the small-fry’s. For a genius, he’s so easy to manipulate in the right conditions. As they’d learned – painfully - any perceived slight against his ego always spelled disaster when you were trying to get him to cooperate.

So, naturally, going the other route had been the perfect plan. Wait for classes to end. Stuff her bookbag deep in a rosebush, wait for him to stomp by. Put on her best damsel face and plead for assistance, get predictably told to fuck off. Mention loudly in mock falsetto that he didn’t look like a capable type anyway.

It’d almost been pathetic how quickly it worked.

 He’d left his blood scattered all over the thorns and hadn’t even stopped to thoroughly snarl at her, just stomping away from her now slightly charred bag while rubbing his scratched arms. The drops were collected quickly into her assortment of jars; only once she’d slipped behind the nearest building and shed her clothes did she finally allow herself a small taste.

It had felt invigorating at first, the idea of wearing the skin of someone so prized by both factions; but the novelty has quickly worn off. She hadn’t put much thought into it before, but being Bakugou will be trickier than most. Unlike her first disguise, Bakugou comes with a noteable persona. A mean, grouchy persona that finds annoyance in everything and everyone, and definitely doesn't walk the grounds with a big, gleeful grin on his face.

This isn’t going to be nearly as much fun as she’d hoped.

Toga also isn’t certain of what sort of crime to do first. Shigaraki had left it open, malleable to whatever fit the circumstances so long as Bakugou couldn’t have an alibi for it. She’s been pacing back and forth for a few minutes now, scowling until her cheeks hurt– but nothing’s really sticking. From their routine observations Bakugou will be at the dorms for a few hours now, holed in his room. In the time they have she needs to do something that can’t be easily placed, something she can capture with her camera for upload that could have been taken at any time of day – but what? Graffiti is nothing. Killing will have a time of death, an explosion’s too noticeable. Maybe just a light maiming-?

“Oi, Bakugou!”

Toga lifts her head to see a boy in a UA seat waving and jogging straight for her isolated position.

A light maiming it is.

As the boy comes into clearer view, the scowl on Toga’s face deepens in genuine disdain. It’s the Crimson Riot fanboy; he’d been one of the ones who’d snatched Bakugou from under their noses. More importantly, he’s the holder of an absolutely detestable quirk. What good will he be as a victim if her knife breaks upon his body?

“Hey,” the boy pants, slowing to a halt. Toga gives him a cold once-over, but he doesn’t seem bothered. “You ran off after class. I was trying to talk to you, y’know.”

At least being rude to this one will be easy. “I was busy…” Crap. What is this kid’s name? Toga quickly racks her brain. Maybe an insult will do? “Faggot.”

The boy double-takes, face going slightly slack in disbelief. Uh-oh. Maybe she overshot it. “Fa- Bakugou?”

“I’m kidding,” Toga replies, feigning indifference. “What do you want?”

He doesn’t look convinced; if anything, the kid’s frown deepens. He looks troubled, and there’s a hesitant pause before he speaks again. “I just wanted to apologize for last night. You don’t have to go that far, you know.”

Oh?

“What about last night?” Toga asks with a scoff. “Say it clearly.”

The kid glances around them; he checks over Toga’s shoulder, then behind himself before dropping his voice to a whisper. “Look, I…” Sharp teeth chew on the side of his lips. “I got the wrong idea. I’ll admit it. That’s my fault, not yours. If you don’t want to be touched by me, I won’t touch you. I didn’t mean for you to storm out.”

Oh? Oh, oh, oh? Toga fights down a tingle of curious delight. Touching? There was touching going on? “Why did you touch me? Say it,” she says, dropping her voice into a commanding tone. “I want to hear it from you plainly.”

“I- look, if you don’t want it, you don’t want it,” the boy snaps, frustration visible as his body tenses. “Don’t make me-”

“I didn’t say I didn’t want it.”

Toga’s reply shocks him into silence and oh, keeping a smile smothered has never been this difficult. It’s delicious, watching his face go from confused to curious – and there, a tiny spark of hope, glinting in his eyes.

An idea is forming.

“You surprised me,” Toga continues, adding a shrug for effect. “So I left. If you want to explain, you have my attention. So just say it.”

“I like you,” the boy blurts out; Toga hides her sharp inhale of glee by pursing her lips. “A lot. I like you, Bakugou. I thought you liked me too, a little. That’s why-”

“You want to do stuff to me?” The tremble in Toga’s voice seems to work; no doubt her captive audience thinks she’s nervous instead of seconds away from losing her grip on the façade. “Perverted stuff?”

“Wh-” the boy sputters, flushing as red as his hair. “Bakugou!”

“Because I want you to.” Toga allows herself a smirk. “If you like me, then prove it. Show me.”

“I-! You!” The kid’s losing it; Toga reaches forward, grabbing him by the collar and pulling him close.

“No backtracking. Here, now. Show me how you want me…” Crap. Still don’t know his name. “Idiot.” That’ll do. “You’re a man, aren’t you? So do me like a man does.”

Somehow, that seems to do the trick. The kid’s hesitation seems to melt away; his fingers are still trembling as he reaches up and grasps Bakugou’s chin, but there’s a fire in his eyes and a bold look of determination there that wasn’t before.

“If you want this,” he warns. “I won’t back down.”

Toga slips a hand behind her, fingers fishing in her back pocket. Her hand encloses around her phone, tracing its outline reverently.  “Then why are you still talking?”

He surges forward instantly, pressing up against her with repugnant desperation. He’s a bad kisser, but she pays it no mind; his eyes are closed as he smushes his mouth against hers, but her eyes are lowered, watching as her fingers nimbly slide open the camera function. The bright-red record button winks back at her; she presses it, then angles the screen towards the pathetic little boy practically dry-humping her into the wall. She can see Bakugou’s face staring back at her through the kisses; as the camera zooms and focuses, Toga finally allows her honest expression break on his face.

Honestly, Bakugou should relax more often.

He looks beautiful when he smiles.