The words still echo in Toga’s mind, a relentless storm: “It’s not normal! Don’t you want to live a decent life?” “No, she’s rotten to the core!” “I’ve given birth to a child that’s not human!”

She doesn’t understand it. Why is it that other people can live freely, doing what they love, but when she does, they look at her like she’s a monster? Why is it so wrong for her to feel the way she does?

Maybe she really is a monster, someone who loves blood. She could kill you right now—it would be easy. But here you are, holding out your hand as if you’re offering her your blood willingly. It makes no sense. You’re a hero. You should be trying to stop her, not… this. Maybe it’s because, deep down, you’re just like her. Maybe, under all the titles, you’re both just teenagers, caught up in something you never asked for.

Toga’s eyes are wide, her lips trembling as she stares at you. “Do you think I’m cute?” she asks, her voice fragile, the tears already welling up. It’s a question that digs deeper than she realizes, cutting to the core of her loneliness, her need to understand why she’s the way she is.

She wants to know—if someone like you could see her as anything but a monster. Even though you both are tired from the fight and even falling down together, maybe it doesn't matter anymore.