MHA Holdiay series

(Plot twist "what if" after the war arc)

The salt-laced air carried the scent of seaweed and anticipation. For Himiko Toga, standing on the porch of her modest beach house, it was a cocktail of anxiety and hope. Years. Years since the war, years since the League of Villains had crumbled, years since she'd seen the faces that once filled her life with a twisted sort of joy.

She'd poured her heart, and surprisingly deep pockets earned from… let's just say alternative career choices, into throwing this party. Fairy lights twinkled like captured stars, strung between swaying palm trees. Tables groaned under the weight of food – not stolen grocery store fare this time, but gourmet skewers and vibrant salads. Music, a mix of upbeat J-Pop and melancholic indie tunes, drifted from the open windows.

She'd even cleaned the place! Mostly.

But the sun was beginning to dip below the horizon, painting the sky in hues of orange and violet, and her carefully constructed optimism was starting to fray. Maybe they wouldn't come. Maybe they couldn't forgive each other, let alone her. Maybe the bonds forged in chaos were too fragile to survive the dawn of peace - or whatever this uneasy truce was.

Just as she was about to succumb to despair and drown her sorrows in a pitcher of homemade sangria, a sleek black car pulled up to the curb.

Her breath hitched.

At precisely 6:00 PM, like some morbid, villainous Cinderella, they arrived.

First to emerge was Tomura Shigaraki. Gone was the crusty, infantile rage. He stood taller, his blue hair neatly styled, the remnants of the hands gone, replaced by… well-tailored black suit? He looked… good.

Next, Dabi unfolded from the passenger seat, his scarred skin seemingly more healed, the staples less prominent. He'd swapped his tattered coat for a leather jacket that screamed "expensive," and a pair of sunglasses that hid his piercing turquoise eyes. Toga almost didn't recognize him, but the familiar air of brooding menace gave him away.

Then came Twice, his split personality seemed more… integrated. He wore a brightly colored Hawaiian shirt and cargo shorts, looking almost normal. Mr. Compress followed, his signature mask replaced by a stylish pair of shades and a tailored linen suit. Kurogiri materialized from the shadows, not through some warp gate, but simply walking up the pathway, carrying a bottle of expensive sake. He seemed less like a sentient mist and more like a distinguished butler, his form more solid, almost… human.

Toga stood frozen, her jaw slack. They looked… incredible. Attractive, even. Cleaned up, sobered up, dare she say, happy?

"Toga," Shigaraki's voice was rough, but softer than she remembered. "Thanks for the invite."

The party started slow, a cautious dance of greetings and awkward small talk. Dabi leaned against a palm tree, nursing a beer and occasionally offering cryptic comments. Twice, surprisingly, became the life of the party, juggling pineapples and making terrible puns. Mr. Compress, with his newfound appreciation for the finer things in life, regaled anyone who would listen with tales of his wine-tasting escapades. Kurogiri, as always, was the quiet observer, ensuring everyone's glasses were full.

Toga, fueled by a cocktail of relief and adrenaline, flitted between them, laughing and making jokes. It felt… good. Normal, almost.

As the night deepened, the music swelled, and the laughter grew louder. They told stories, not of grand schemes and villainous victories, but of mundane moments – Shigaraki's surprisingly green thumb (he apparently had a passion for growing succulents), Dabi's newfound love for classic literature, Twice's disastrous attempt at pottery.

Then, just when Toga thought the night couldn't get any better, a limousine purred to a stop outside. The door opened, and All For One stepped out.

He looked… different. Older, weaker, perhaps. But the same chilling aura still clung to him. His face, once obscured by tubes and machinery, was now gaunt, but his one visible eye still held that terrifying glint of absolute power.

Silence descended upon the party. Even Twice fell silent.

All For One surveyed the scene, a flicker of something unreadable in his eye. Then, a slow, almost unsettlingly warm smile spread across his face.

"It seems you've all been doing well," he said, his voice surprisingly clear. He turned to Toga. "Thank you, Himiko, for bringing us together."

He didn't elaborate, didn't offer any grand pronouncements or villainous manifestos. He simply walked over to Kurogiri, accepted a glass of sake, and joined the party.

The tension in the air remained, a palpable weight. But as the night wore on, even All For One seemed to relax, drawn into the orbit of laughter and shared memories. He didn't try to reclaim his power, didn't try to manipulate them. He simply… existed.

Toga watched them all, her heart full to bursting. This wasn't a reunion of villains. It wasn't even a celebration of the past. It was something new, something fragile, but undeniably real. It was a chance, a possibility. A chance to redefine themselves, to find something new, something… better.

As the sun began to rise, painting the sky with the promise of a new day, Toga knew that their past would always be a part of them. But tonight, under the twinkling fairy lights and the salty breeze, they had found a flicker of hope in the darkness, a reminder that even villains, even after all they'd done, deserved a chance at redemption, a chance at… happiness. And maybe, just maybe, she had been the one to give it to them.