My house always smelled of hot peppers and hairspray. It was an aggressive smell, like everything else in the Bakugou residence.
I walked through the front door, kicked off my shoes, and went straight to the living room.
"You're late, brat!" my mother yelled from the kitchen. The sound of a knife hitting the cutting board was rhythmic and violent.
"Shut up, Old Hag!" I yelled back, without real hostility. It was our standard greeting. "I need to talk to the Old Man and you! Now!"
There was a pause in the chopping. Mitsuki Bakugou poked her head out the kitchen door. She had the same sharp look as me, but with more laugh lines around her eyes.
"What did you do?" she asked, narrowing her eyes. "If you got expelled for blowing up a desk again, I'm not going to apologize."
"Sit down. It's serious."
Something in my tone, perhaps the lack of the usual teenage irritation, made Masaru put down his newspaper and Mitsuki wipe her hands on her apron. They sat on the sofa.
I remained standing, arms crossed. I wasn't going to ask for permission. I was going to present an executive report.
"I met a girl," I said.
Mitsuki and Masaru exchanged a look. Masaru smiled softly. Mitsuki arched an eyebrow mockingly.
"Wow, finally. I thought your only love was your own biceps."
"She's not a girlfriend, hag. She's a clinical case." My voice hardened. "She has a hematophagous transformation Quirk. She needs to ingest blood to function. Her parents are 'normalcy' fanatics who are starving her and repressing her biology. She is two steps away from a psychotic break or becoming a villain."
The atmosphere in the room changed instantly. The mockery vanished from Mitsuki's face, replaced by a stony seriousness. Masaru leaned forward.
"They're starving her?" my father asked, frowning. "Literally?"
"Her brain demands blood. They give her vegetables and tell her she's a monster for being thirsty." I clenched my fists. "I've been stabilizing her with chicken livers and supplements, but she can't keep living in that house. She needs to see that there are adults who aren't afraid of her."
I looked my mother straight in the eye.
"I'm bringing her to dinner tomorrow. I need you to make that curry of yours. The extra spicy one with lots of red meat. And I need you not to treat her like she's made of glass or like she's a murderer."
Mitsuki held my gaze for three seconds. Then, she snorted and crossed her arms.
"You think a girl with fangs scares me? I raised you, you little time bomb." She got up from the sofa. "Bring her at seven. And tell her if she doesn't finish her plate, she'll have to deal with me."
I smiled. I knew I could count on her maternal aggression.
"Understood."
(...)
At 6:55 PM the next day, Toga was standing in front of my door.
She was wearing her impeccable school uniform. Her hair was perfectly combed. Her hands were clasped in front, and a porcelain smile was plastered on her face. She was trembling imperceptibly.
"Katsuki-kun... are you sure?" she whispered. "My parents say I shouldn't eat with normal people... my diet is... unpleasant to watch."
"This isn't a house of normal people, Toga." I opened the door. "And drop that fake smile. You don't need it here."
We entered.
"THEY'RE HERE!" Mitsuki's scream made Toga jump half a meter.
My mother came out into the hallway, drying her hands. She looked Toga up and down. Toga shrank back, waiting for judgment. Waiting for the look of disgust.
"You're a noodle!" Mitsuki bellowed, walking over and pinching Toga's cheek (gently, surprisingly). "Katsuki said you're thirteen? You look ten. Masaru, set the table! This girl needs protein now!"
Toga blinked, confused.
"Uh... I... sorry for being skinny..."
"Don't apologize, get in here!" Mitsuki gently pushed her toward the table. "Dinner is ready!"
Dinner was chaos. Masaru tried to ask politely about school, Mitsuki yelled at Masaru not to overwhelm the guest, and I yelled at Mitsuki to lower her voice.
Toga sat in silence, a gigantic plate of curry in front of her. She looked at my family as if we were aliens. In her house, dinner was silent. In her house, no one touched or shouted with affection.
"Aren't you going to eat?" Mitsuki asked, noticing Toga hadn't touched her spoon. "Don't you like spicy food? I put extra meat in, like Katsuki said."
Toga clenched her hands in her lap.
"It's just that..." Her voice trembled. "My Quirk... sometimes... when I see rare meat... I get... weird. My eyes change. And my teeth..."
She lowered her head, ashamed.
"I don't want to scare you."
Silence fell over the table. Masaru put down his chopsticks. I was about to speak, to explain it scientifically, but my mother beat me to it.
Mitsuki let out a loud laugh.
"Scare us?" She pointed to herself. "Kid, my sweat is glycerin. I have to use special creams not to look ten years older. My son sweats explosives and has the temper of a rabid badger. My husband sweats combustible acid." Mitsuki leaned over the table, with a fierce but warm smile. "In this house, weird biology is the norm. If you grow fangs, use them to chew the meat. Now eat. It's getting cold."
Toga looked up. Her yellow eyes filled with tears.
"I'm... I'm not a monster?"
"You're a hungry teenager," Masaru said softly, pouring her a glass of water. "And in this house, no one goes hungry."
Toga looked at the plate. Then she looked at me. I nodded slightly.
She took the spoon. Took the first bite. Her eyes dilated (the effect of the iron and blood in the undercooked meat), her pupils became vertical, and a small smile of ecstasy crossed her face. It was a "predatory" expression.
In her house, her father would have slapped her.
Here, Mitsuki just nodded in satisfaction.
"See, told you she'd like it. Katsuki, pass her more rice!"
Toga started eating. And as she ate, she started crying. Big tears fell into the curry, but she didn't stop eating. She cried and chewed, releasing years of repression in every bite.
No one said anything. No one told her to stop crying. Mitsuki simply gave her a slap on the back that almost disassembled her, and Masaru left a box of tissues next to her without comment.
When she finished, Toga had a red face, swollen eyes, and a full stomach.
"Thank you..." she sobbed. "Thank you for the meal."
Mitsuki smiled, a smile that was identical to mine when I win a fight.
"Come back whenever you want, Himiko-chan. And next time, bring your laundry. That uniform smells like you snuck out the window."
Toga laughed through her sobs.
"Yes... yes, ma'am."
I leaned back in my chair, observing the scene.
Mission accomplished. Dynamite Diplomacy had been a total success. Toga Himiko had just found her first safe place in the world. And I... well, I guess I had a vampire little sister now.
Izuku was going to lose his mind.