Chapter Text
Wonder Girl: Unusually talented or skilled girl
'...Watching through my fingers, watching through my fingers
Caught off guard by your favourite song
I'll be dancing at a funeral, dancing at a funeral...'
-Good Grief, Bastille
Snow. That was the first that thing hit (Y/n) as she opened her eyes. Her breaths steadied in the frigid air, puffs of pure white flowing to the dark, gray skies.
"Goddamn it!"
(Y/n) bolted upright, head spinning. Who was that?
"Fuck you and your shitty society of Heroes and Villains! Fuck you! Fuck you and your whole family!" A man kneeled over in the snow, digging his fists across ice and rocks with a howl. He sounded like a wounded, rabid dog. "You weren't supposed to come here, and because of you, now I'm stuck!" He threw himself into a tree with another howl. "I can't go back for another few years, you bitch!"
The man staggered through the ice and snow, sneakers squeaking. A knife gleamed between his fingertips under the falling snow. It was cold, so cold, yet (Y/n) wasn't sure if she could feel it or not.
The man lunged forward. "I'll kill you!" (Y/n) sloppily rolled over on her side just in time to see the knife lodge itself into a shattered patch of ice. She jumped to her feet as the man readjusted and swiped again.
"I'll kill you and your whole fucking family!" He stabbed at thin air. "You're gonna suffer!" He charged forward again. "It's your fault I'm here!"
All her fault? (Y/n)'s limbs felt like they would burst. She didn't know what this man was talking about when she was sure she would die. Maybe that man had a rebound on his Quirk, if that was the reason they both ended up in the middle of nowhere. Spots danced in her vision as she ducked and rolled out of the way. Fear coursed into her veins when her faze locked with the man's.
He was long gone, filled with an empty thirst that could never be quenched. (Y/n) heaved. "Stop it!" she cried. "I don't want to--!"
"Kill me?" the man demanded. He grinned and rove the gleaming knife into her abdomen. (Y/n)'s breath hitched, spots blaring in and out of her vision. Gods, she really was going to die here, wasn't she?
The man bared his ugly teeth and yanked the knife out with an evil grin. Red splattered against the pure snow. "Do it bitch!" he sneered. "Kill me! If you move, you're gonna pass out from blood loss and die anyway!"
(Y/n)'s fingers twitched. She tapped her palm and activated her Quirk. The wound healed as the man drove his knife back down.
Was this it? Kai and Hari weren't around to save (Y/n). She was alone in some unknown place in the middle of nowhere with no means of contact, no food, and no shelter. How foolish she was to think she could be strong in the face of adversary? Even if she survived, she'd die of frostbite and starvation.
"You're so quiet for someone suffering." The man stabbed (Y/n) in the arm, twisting his knife ever so slowly. "Come on, bitch!"
A scream left (Y/n)'s lips, running her throat raw and dry against the frigid air. She was forgetting how to breathe with the constricting of her throat. Everything burned, trailing up her body like fire.
Suck it up, (Y/n)!
The man stamped a foot into the wound on her shoulder, grinding his foot into the bloody mess of broken flesh and skin and bone.
Suck it up!
A strangled scream broke through (Y/n)'s lips. The world blurred in and out.
Come on, suck it up!
(Y/n) caught the man's ankle with her free hand, fingers twitching, itching.
"You can't do shit," he laughed. "Don't touch me with your bloody hands, you dirty bitch." Through the pain and through the world coated in yellow and orange spots, (Y/n) mustered the last of her strength. She looked up into those empty, maddened eyes with a dark glare. Golden eyes like the sun, yet colder than the Arctic. Fiercer than a lions yet more flaming than a wildfire.
The man shivered, fingers trembling around the knife. "What--what the fuck? You think you can scare me?" His voice rattled, teeth chattering. "All you're doing is wasting your energy!"
(Y/n) hauled herself to an elbow, grip tightening around his ankle. She heaved in deep breaths to slow the spread of exhaustion that pulled at her heavy limbs. This was not the end. She wouldn't let it be. "Maybe I am," she felt her expression harden, "but at least I know I'm sending you off to hell."
Even though (Y/n)'s voice broke, even though she was close to bleeding out in unbearable pain, the man before her shook and quivered. Pure, unadulterated fear flashed in his eyes. And before he could blink, his limbs burst from his torso one by one. He screamed and thrashed to no avail--the pain would not disappear, the pain would not stop.
The last thing the man saw were a pair of ice-cold eyes like liquid gold. They were passive, clinical, as if he were nothing more than a science experiment in a lab.
(Y/n) collapsed in the snow, blood and broken bits of flesh freezing along her skin in the frigid cold. She tapped a finger to her hand, activating her Quirk. The painful wounds healed to a dull throb, a sensation that tattooed itself into (Y/n)'s broken mind.
Where was Kai? Where was Oyaji? Hari? Trees blanketed in thick sheets of snow stretched out for as far as the eye could see. Blood and the warm limbs leaking it scattered across the stained landscape. If they saw her here, would they see her as a monster? A cruel murderer? Spots and darkness mockingly danced in (Y/n)'s vision, never truly fading and never truly there.
Chisaki (Y/n) had killed someone.
Chisaki (Y/n) had killed.
Someone.
Killed. Killed. Killed someone.
A crushing weight flattened the moment of silence. She tried hauling herself up, knees buckling like jelly. Away from the blood, away from the body, away from the evidence that she was no longer pure and true and honest like the heroes she saw on television. (Y/n) was dirty. Tainted like the snow beneath her feet. But wasn't she always?
The world faded again, blurring together until the snow and the sky meshed into one. The scent of blood lingered in the air, heavy like a blanket. She heaved shallowly. Once. Twice. Again, again, breathe, breathe, just breathe--
(Y/n)'s body gave out and she collapsed into an icy patch of snow. White puffs left her lips, quiet, frantic. The eyeball of that man lay only half a foot away in a pool of red. Its gaze was piercing. It lay unmoving, the blank stare meeting her wide golden eyes.
The world blurred once again, the eye blinking in and out of space. (Y/n) threw out a hand and tried to sit up, but she buckled and fell into a world of darkness.
---
It was silent. Too silent. The slow, steady exhale of breath made (Y/n) tense. This voice was not familiar, and this presence, but of a stranger. She kept her eyes sealed shut. It was the smart thing until she had grasped the gravity of her situation. Where was she? Kai was not in the vicinity, or else she would never hear the end of it from him.
Be careful, he would say. There are plenty of crazy people out there. If it weren't for Overhaul you would be...
Blah blah blah blah blah. But Kai was nowhere to be sensed. His presence was a mere wisp in the Universe, as if he had completely disappeared from the plane of existence. He should have been right beside her with a chiding shake of his head.
A sinking iciness settled into (Y/n)'s gut. She was completely alone. Her breath hitched, heart racing like the blood in her veins. Alone where?
Where?
She kept her eyes shut, focusing on her breaths instead. There was no time to panic again, she had to focus and get out of this before her enemy acted first.
A small chuckle broke (Y/n) from her spell of concentration. It was light, airy, with a teasing tone that made her want to punch something. "I know you're awake." came a silky voice. "You might as well open your eyes." The man sounded young, no older than his late teens or early twenties. Irritation spread to the very edges of (Y/n)'s mind. It was as if he viewed himself as a superior, someone considerably better than her. She stubbornly kept her eyes shut.
"Don't be like that, Wonder Girl." He sounded like he was smirking. "You've been asleep long enough."
There wasn't any point in pretending to sleep. (Y/n)'s eyes snapped open, and with as much strength as her noodle arms could muster, she shoved the man away. She harshly tumbled out of his hold, snow and ice skidding against her winter boots. "Who are you and where are we?"
The teenager blinked and placed a hand on his hip. Under his curious gaze, it looked like he felt bad about dropping (Y/n). She stood tall, hands held at the ready to activate her Quirk. A part of (Y/n) knew she couldn't outrun him.
Just look at those muscles. He was like those Roman sculptures, except much more solid, and very much real. She could never dream of beating such a super human. The navy blue tattoos covering his rounded face trailed down his torso and arms, only stopping at his fingertips were already off-putting as is.
Maybe if (Y/n) weren't high on the influx of adrenaline, she would have laughed. The guy looked like a basketball.
Somehow, he seemed to sense her slight amusement. "A moment ago, you looked ready to run for your life," he said. "What's so funny?" (Y/n) almost laughed. Almost. This whole predicament was simply ridiculous. She had just killed someone, now she was in the presence of some mutant? She heaved out a breath, puffs of white rising to the sky. "Why are you here?"
Moonlight broke through the thick gray clouds, reflecting its silvery beams upon the man's eyes. They were gorgeously coloured like persimmons, with thick pink lashes that perfectly framed his half-lidded eyes.
A grin rose to the boy's lips and it made (Y/n) feel like nothing more than a little girl playing dress up. "You should be thanking me," --the condescending tone didn't make her grateful-- "if I hadn't found you, you would still be in the snow, frost-bitten and dead." Fangs protruded from his lips, gleaming dangerously. "Did your family abandon you? Were they eaten perhaps?"
"I don't know what you're talking about." (Y/n) clenched her teeth. The farther the moon rose, the colder it got. Would she freeze before she ever got out of this forest? "You must have brought me here. Save me the energy and tell me, what is your Quirk?"
The teenager raised a brow. "'Quirk'?" he echoed with a dramatic raise of his brows. "I don't know what you're talking about." A sigh left his lips and (Y/n) wondered if it was out of irritation or pity. "It seems I picked up a mentally unstable child. I assume your family had been eaten and that your trauma--"
"Excuse me?" (Y/n) huffed incredulously. "I'm not the one wearing nothing but a vest and trousers in the dead of winter. How are you not dead from the cold?" That question sparked another smug smirk on the boy's lips. "So you don't know what I am?" It was painfully obvious he was playing with her. "Tell me," he said, "what happened before you came here?"
"Why should I tell you?"
The man let out a short sigh in false disappointment. Oh, the audacity--
"My name is Akaza and I am a demon who spared your life. Consider yourself blessed, as I don't eat women." The bluntness of his tone sent (Y/n) off kilter. His tone was true and honest, yet she found herself desperately denying his words.
A demon? He doesn't eat women? What was this, the Taisho Era? (Y/n) grew up with her Oyaji telling bedtime stories of the rumoured demons who once roamed the land. They ate for strength, for satisfaction, for their bloodthirsty needs to please the Demon King, Kibutsuji Muzan.
But those were rumours and tales from a book her Oyaji loved. She and Kai never believed them. Quirks didn't even exist until another century later anyway, so how could some random doctor so happen to create the demon race thousands of years before?
Akaza knitted his brows together, lips pulling into an odd look (Y/n) could almost call concerned. "Was that not enough information?" he inquired. "It won't matter since you clearly have no one to turn to. You're alone. Why is that?" (Y/n) stuffed her frigid fingers into her pockets.
Usually, the below-freezing temperatures offered comfort, and security to the fact that she wouldn't burn up in the intense heat of summer.
Today? Her bones practically shivered.
"I don't know where I am," she admitted. "And I have a feeling I'm far away from home. Are you going to kill me, 'demon'?"
Ah, so she was playing stupid, thought Akaza. The sceptical shine in the girl's eyes shone brightly in the moon's light. Akaza paused, releasing a breath into the chilly air. They glittered like liquid gold, precious gems only the luckiest stumbled upon.
Maybe there was something special aboit this girl. That was not the stare of a child, but a survivor who lived long enough to tell her tale. "You don't have a strong presence, yet you have the eyes of a warrior. And your skill, although unpolished, has caught my eye."
The awe in his voice forced (Y/n) to meet his gaze. "Oh yeah?" she sarcastically inquired. "I better after all I've been through." Akaza's curiosity shouldn't have spiked, but this girl? She was so mysterious, so intriguing that he just had to know who she was. Something in his heart pulled. "All you've been through? You're no older than ten or twelve, there isn't much to go through. What's your name?"
"None of your business, Akaza-san."
His brows raised. "'San'?" She sent him a sharp look and that only fueled his smugness by tenfold. His eyes brightened, darkening like the very night around them. "You have nowhere to go and no one to turn to. This forest is in the middle of nowhere."
Whatever the demon was suggesting, (Y/n) didn't like it. She took the offense and fell into the most useful stance she could think of. Akaza's eyes gleamed brightly, dangerously.
"You know martial arts, too?" He sounded giddy. "Your stance is not half-bad." (Y/n) blinked and suddenly, Akaza had appeared in front of her, less than a step or two away. She hadn't even seen him move.
Akaza knelt on one knee to meet her angry gaze. The Kanji for 'Upper Moon Three' lay carved into his eyes, and it was then that (Y/n) realised how deep she had dug her grave. It wasn't impossible someone sent her back in time. Quirks like that existed, but were kept under the tightest of wraps. The face of her Oyaji flashed in her mind and she thought back to the stories he used to read long ago.
"Those with Kanji engraved in their eyes are part of the Twelve Kizuki," he had said. (Y/n) looked up from her pillow with wide, curious eyes. "So they were the strongest demons?" Her old man nodded seriously. "Usually, the Hashira could defeat them, but most times, they fell in battle. It was uncommon to meet the Upper Moons, but when someone did, it never ended well."
It was possible, no matter how impossible it sounded. (Y/n) couldn't call this impossible when Quirks--abilities that defied the once concrete facts of science--existed. If flying heroes and invisibility grew from a mutation, then what were the odds of man-eating demons?
Akaza studied her expression carefully. "How long have you been learning for, Wonder Girl?" (Y/n) swallowed a lump in her throat with a heavy breath. "I was taught by my Oyaji's friend," --she had to calm her racing heart, she had to buy time-- "but by the looks of it, you're much better than me."
"Flattery gets you no where." Akaza said with a laugh. "What's with that face of yours? Didn't I tell you I wasn't going to eat you?"
Like (Y/n) could believe a man-eating demon (if that was what he truly was). She fought back the urge to scowl. He was toying with her, like she were a little doll for a young child. He was searching for the break in (Y/n)'s defenses, a bit of amusement for his long, gruesome life as a demon.
An uncomfortable lump formed in (Y/n)'s throat. She swallowed hard. Akaza's bright eyes met her own, searching for the unsaid. He took a step back and it was almost...respectful? Considerate?
"It's getting colder." he said. "If you stay out here any longer, you can get sick and die." Akaza turned towards the horizon, staring past the thick line of trees like a character from Star Wars. (Y/n) didn't follow his gaze. If she took her eyes off him, then he might really kill her.
'I don't eat women' my foot, she thought. If the stories were as true as Oyaji claimed, then she had to proceed with the utmost caution. For all she knew, Akaza was savouring the moment until he got his hands on her limbs. Where would he take her? What tormenting game would he play? Akaza's calculating gaze met (Y/n)'s and she stiffened. "Come on" he said. "I can hear your teeth chattering from the cold."
(Y/n) harshly pursed her lips together, an embarrassed frown tugging at the edges of her lips. What a prat. Her teeth were not chattering, he was just teasing her. She glared at Akaza and he laughed, those fangs of his gleaming in the moonlight.
(Y/n) hated the fact that she couldn't muster the courage to run. This demon ate people for his own satisfaction, his own unwavering will for strength, his own greed. He was a danger to society--and herself. Yet eEven if (Y/n) somehow found her way out of the forest, there probably wasn't a town or village for kilometers.
Staying out in the frigid winter meant certain death, and dying of frostbite didn't sound pleasant. If (Y/n) was going to find a way home, she needed to stay healthy, alive, and well. A breeze brushed up a gust of snow, sending a shiver down (Y/n)'s spine. She was helpless to the elements, so vulnerable under the demon's gaze.
Was this the path to salvation?
Or the journey to hell?
Akaza's lips curved into a satisfied smirk. "No need to look so scared," he said with a teasing laugh. "I'm not going to eat you." (Y/n) kept her gaze forward as they walked. No matter what Akaza said, she wouldn't bask in the false arms of security. Why would he refuse to eat women when they were said to be extra nutritious? It was like choosing an iceberg lettuce salad over a good four-course meal.
"If you say so, demon."
He merely grinned, this time much wider than before. "You know, you never told me your name, Wonder Girl." (Y/n)'s sharp pace slowed to a trudge. She heaved out a breath, watching as puffs of white curled from her lips. It was too late to turn back now. She was too deep in, too involved with the demon she only met forty minutes ago.
"Chisaki (Y/n)."
The way she said it made Akaza's brows raise curiously. '(Y/n)' had said her name with pride, as if it were one of the dearest things in her heart. "You're an interesting girl." He meant it, he really did. "Mind telling me what a 'Quirk' is?"
(Y/n) pulled her jacket closer, sealing off the frigid breezes with her fluffy collar. It wasn't wise to give a stranger information, especially when it would hint that she knew nothing. "It's none of your concern."
To know nothing was ignorance. To be ignorant was to be confused. And to be confused meant sure failure in logical thought, right? Right. (Y/n) heaved out a breath and watched the white tendrils disappear. It was the only thing to keep her nerves in check, to slow her racing heart.
The demon must have sensed her inner battle, because his lips drew into a playfully smug smirk. "You don't fear me," he noted. "But you don't feel safe either."
"A Quirk is an ability someone possesses." (Y/n) cut in, tone clipped and short. "You're a demon, so you have something similar--Blood Demon Arts. I wouldn't call it a Quirk though." Akaza scanned the side of her face, as if to search for the answers that would not come. There wasn't a single break in her cold facade honed to absolute perfection. Who was this girl? She didn't act like how Akaza assumed a human child would. There was no whining about the cold, no crying and shouting he had observed while on the hunt for his prey.
"I'm impressed by your ability to stay calm, especially after what you did earlier."
All that came with Chisaki (Y/n) was a chilling silence and the eyes of an old soul fighting to keep a stone-cold face. She tensed, and for a moment, her hands shook.
Akaza wanted to ask more, to unveil the mysterious girl, but knew that he would receive no answer. It was great, really. This was the most fun he's had in centuries.
The walk continued in an uncomfortable silence. Every few seconds, (Y/n)'s gaze flickered to Akaza's uneasily. He found himself staring forward to the horizon again. "What is it?" His silky voice was surprisingly gentle. "We're almost there if that's what you're wondering. Fifteen minutes." (Y/n) only nodded to herself in acknowledgement.
Great. Fifteen minutes until the march of death ended. What was she supposed to do when they got there? Run? Overhaul Akaza? He was faster than (Y/n) could ever be (one step and he could lop her head off). Demons were not to be messed with, especially Upper Moons. If she so much as moved, then she would be dead before she could even blink.
A part of (Y/n) cowered back in fear. She kept a straight face just as Oyaji had taught her so long ago, but how long would 'fake it till you make it' last? How long until she broke her facade of calm and lashed out in a last-ditch effort? She was a rabbit to the wolf. A seal to the shark. A prey for the hunter who stood right beside her and looked with pretty, gorgeous eyes.
(Y/n) fought up the urge to speak. She didn't like that last thought.
"What are you staring at me for?" Akaza blinked dumbly, like some dork caught spacing off in class. "You're really far away from home, aren't you?"
"I...I suppose so."
When the two arrived, all (Y/n) could do was gawk in awe. The house was rather...beautiful. It was a two floored family home big enough to house six people (or more). The architecture was traditional, and it was built as if to last a century.
Akaza's gaze flickered over to (Y/n)'s. Her cold facade had cracked, revealing a sparkle in her eyes that made him pause. It was curious how quickly her mood switched. One moment, she had been on edge, alert. Now, it was like time came to a pause in order for her to enjoy this one moment.
"Come on," came Akaza's smooth voice, "it's too cold outside for you." He slid open the front doors, but (Y/n) remained still, waiting. Watching. Would he bare his fangs and rear the ugly face of hunger? Or would he continue on with that smug smirk and those playful remarks?
Akaza let out a laugh. "Fine, I'll go in first. I promise, there's nothing to be scared of. I don't kill women, remember?" (Y/n) followed after him and closed the door. She kept an eye on his back as they ventured into the open space, lighting a few lanterns on the way. All windows had been sealed, but whether it was for blocking out the incoming sun or keeping what happened in here under wraps, (Y/n) had no clue.
Despite that, she politely removed her shoes and surveyed her surroundings. A low table in the living slash dining room, a kitchen, stairs to the wall that led to the second floor...
...everything was normal.
Save for the lack of life. This did not feel like a home. It was dark, plain, sapped of the uplifting energy the Shie Hassaikai possessed.
Akaza lit another lamp, those eyes (like persimmons) glowing against the faint flames. "Cold?" he inquired. The urge to put on a brave face and shake her head hit (Y/n). She frowned heavily, as if to tell Akaza to shove off. "What's it matter to you, demon?"
"Gods, you're so feisty. Didn't I tell you I'm not going to eat you?" A laugh rang from his throat again and he disappeared into the other room. (Y/n) awkwardly stared at the walls in wait, breathing as quietly as she could. It was too silent in the dead of the cold, winter night. She missed home already, wishing with all her heart that this was simply a bad dream.
Akaza reappeared with a surprisingly clean futon and a pillow. He laid it down on the cold floor and fluffed up the blankets. "I'll start a fire to heat up the room," he motioned for (Y/n) to rest, "you can sleep here." She only stared into his luminescent eyes. They were full like the moon, with an edge that sharpened the more she studied his marked face. "Why are you helping me?"
There was an iciness in (Y/n)'s tone that made Akaza blink curiously. He tilted his head to the side, raising a brow. For a kid, she was sharp. There were probably a million questions running through her head, yet the only one she cared to ask was why. Why. Why. Why.
"You interest me, that's all."
The answer wasn't that simple and (Y/n) knew. She opened her mouth to speak before shutting it with a short sigh. "Alright, keep your secrets then." Every fibre in her body burned to run. This was a demon. A man-eating danger to society. Yet when (Y/n) looked into those persimmon eyes, she sensed no malice. Akaza wasn't interested in eating her, much less hurting her.
Or so she hoped. But there wasn't a second option. Akaza was (Y/n)'s only chance at survival in this world. He had found her, and now, she would cling onto him in order to live another day. For Kai. For her Oyaji. For Eri. For Hari. There were people waiting back home and (Y/n) couldn't leave them. Slowly, she laid down in the futon, gaze cautiously meeting the intense eyes of Akaza.
"I'll be back," he announced. "The fire is burning, there's more wood in the other room to your right. The bathroom is down the hall."
(Y/n) watched him leave through half-lidded eyes. She had to stay awake, or at least half asleep in order to react to any sudden happenings. But she was exhausted. This was too much excitement for one day and her mind begged for a break. The front doors shut with a heavy gust of wind, then, it was lights out.
Dark. That was the only word (Y/n) could use to describe her surroundings. She wadded through something thick and warm and sticky, the scent of iron filling her nose. The darkness slowly lifted. A vast, barren land of dead trees and bodies littered the lands as far as the eye could see.
(Y/n) took a step forward. She froze.
The thick, warm liquid was blood. Clear as day, it dripped down from her hands and spilled into the lake in little ripples. (Y/n)'s breath hitched. She struggled through the blood, heaving in the iron-scented air.
It was like that day where the sky came crashing down and the world began to cave in. Blood leaked from (Y/n)'s palms in painfully slow droplets.
Drip. Drop.
The sound echoed like a gong. Clear. Loud.
Drip. Drop.
(Y/n) wadded through the bloody lake with frantic breaths. She had to get out of here. But where would she go? The land was barren, with nothing more than dead trees barely hanging on for life. The lake rippled, churning along until a whirlpool formed. (Y/n) ran, but her legs refused to move. She was rooted in place like those trees on the horizon.
No. No. No. (Y/n) wanted to cry for help, or scream and struggle, yet her voice had gone dry, throat was a desert. There was nothing to quench its thirst as she struggled with strangled gasps. The world fell into black, swallowing (Y/n) whole under the lake of blood.
Drip. Drop.
The smell of her old primary school hit (Y/n)'s nose, woody, sweaty. The brick beneath her back was cold, so freezing cold.
Drip. Drop.
"Sensei?"
A sickly grin rose to his lips, displaying a set of crooked teeth. "I'll be quick, promise."
Drip. Drop.
A hand crawled up her side and it was like maggots on her skin. A fearful fit of passionate terror overtook (Y/n)'s body. Her mind vanished, long gone to the subconscious need to survive, to live, to break free. Sensei suddenly screamed. His arm hit the ground with a gut-wretching slosh of warm, sticky blood.
Drip. Drop.
The final blow came in an array of spilled gore and crimson, Sensei's last cry finally silencing to nothing. He was insignificant, really.
Who could miss a wretched human being such as himself, anyway? He was worthless, a waste of space, and a danger to society. Yes, this was okay, right? It was okay since he tried to deal her a fate worse than death. It was revenge for--
"Imouto?"
She froze, glossy golden eyes widening.
Drip. Drop.
The teen striding over didn't have to know, he didn't have to know, not when she was...well...she was supposed to be a hero, right? The weight of her dirty deed made the sky fall upon her shoulders. Yes, a hero. How could a hero kill someone in cold blood? It was not right and most certainly not okay.
What was wrong with her?
The dripping stopped. (Y/n) couldn't breathe, the air filling her lungs burning. Blood dripped from her hands, hit the pavement in red rims. In the alleyway, a young girl appeared over the dead body. She flashed in and out like a video played on a scratched CD.
White hair. She flashed out. Red eyes. She flashed out. Terrified cries. The girl disappeared as if she had never been there in the first place.
(Y/n) blankly stared at the body. The events of only moments ago blurred together into one, as if her mind simply knew it was too much. The touch that made her skin craw, the scent of blood forever engraved in her mind, and the girl who was nothing more than an apparition.
Kai walked over to (Y/n) and pulled out a disposable wet napkin. "Was that you?" He sounded casually irritated, as if this were mere roadkill forgotten to the side of the freeway. "Here, you should wipe yourself down." When (Y/n) did not move, a frown fell upon Kai's face. He sent the body a grimace and took her hand in his. The sticky blood stained the napkin a rusty red.
"Did he do anything to you?"
Silence.
"The only one who could have killed him is you."
Silence.
"Let's go home, Oyaji is waiting."
Oyaji. Where was he? All (Y/n) wanted was to see him right now. Where was he when she needed him? Tears pricked the edges of her eyes as she numbly nodded. Guilt pressed against her heart, filled its depths with an iciness that left her sore and numb. She reached out a hand to Kai's, only to fall short. What was this hesitation, this stutter in her step?
It was silent. Too silent for the aftermath of a murder in the name of justice.
---
(Y/n) awoke with a start and bolted upright. She groggily observed her surroundings, searching for Kai, the car, and the scent of blood that had tainted her nose. She recalled the warm arms of her Oyaji, the angry talk between the Yakuza members about that so-called teacher, and the tension so thick it was suffocating.
From the corner of her eye, (Y/n) spotted a young man with pink hair, tattoos that kept making her think 'basketball', and a presence that sucked all the attention of a room. The amount of power Akaza possessed was immense. With just a single look, (Y/n) stilled. He knelt by her futon and she tensed. "Good evening, princess," he playfully said. "I was wondering when you'd finally wake up."
(Y/n) swallowed thickly. The touch of that man against her skin made everything itch and crawl like worms were on her skin. "H-how," (Y/n) cursed the weak crack in her voice, "how long have I been sleeping?" Akaza placed his cheek in his hand, that teasing smile of his faltering. "Did you have a nightmare?"
His tone could almost be considered mocking, but (Y/n) knew better. The way his brows knitted and the softness in his voice was different. Softer, almost. She pursed her lips tight with a silent shake of her head. "Why do you ask?" A sense of defeat leaked into her voice. Although her voice was as flat as she could keep it, Akaza was perceptive. Too perceptive.
"You look upset," he simply said. "Why?" Upset was an understatement, Akaza would place it as 'disturbed'. No one had come into the home save for him and (Y/n) (it wasn't like he was dumb enough to allow a random traveler to set foot on his territory) yet she looked like she was being held at gunpoint (and not because of him).
(Y/n) curled into the blankets, eyes downcast and sad. "It's stupid." she admitted. "And I don't think you'd understand. Why would you care anyway?"
"I want to know more about you." Akaza sounded so earnest. "Explain to me, what has you so bothered?"
The last bit of logic (Y/n) clung to fell from her arms. She was already living with a demon, what more could come besides death? A part of her begged to cling to the hope that home wasn't so impossible. But it was naive. Stupid. She already knew deep down that there was no home to turn to.
A frown pulled to the edges of (Y/n)'s lips. "A...a few years ago," she steadied her wavering voice, "my teacher tried to..."
The truth was there clear as day. What happened happened and the past could not be changed. (Y/n) swallowed hard.
"My teacher from school turned out to be a paedophile and a mass murderer. It's...stupid of me to think about it when it happened a long time ago." The warmth of the blankets offered no true comfort. They were nothing but lifeless pieces of fabric, nothing like the comforting arms of her Oyaji.
Akaza's expression was unreadable. He pursed his lips tightly, eyes all far away and distant as his expression shifted. Angry to questioning, questioning to worried, then worried to anger once again. He looked like he was thinking of someone. "There is nothing stupid about someone so disgusting," his voice lowered an octave, "did you kill him?"
A chill ran down (Y/n)'s spine. She didn't want to think about how Akaza would have handled the situation if he were in her shoes. "I did, but...I don't really remember how." That was a half truth and Akaza seemed to sense it.
The angry contortion of his face slowly eased. He sighed, as if to calm himself. "It's not stupid if something like that bothers you," he said. "I may be a demon, but that doesn't mean I don't understand what you're talking about. Unlike others of my kind, I understand honour and respect. What you did was hand him what he deserved."
Akaza thought of the annoying, overly sweet smile of his superior. It made his blood boil. "There's this demon I know who acts similarly to how you described that man. He isn't so explicit, but definitely someone to stay away from. Upper Moon Two, Douma is his name."
A darkness passed over Akaza's eyes. They seemed to glow eerily bright. "If I could, I would challenge him to another Blood Battle."
(Y/n) cautiously studied the side of his angry face. The lantern's light flickered across his pale skin like moonlight. "Why don't you challenge Douma?"
"I'm not strong enough." The contortion of his face fell into bitter despair. For a moment, (Y/n) wondered if that was regret leaking into his eyes. Akaza was worn, as if the thin ties wrapping him to reason begged to snap under the weight on his shoulders. (Y/n) slowly sat up. "What is it like being Upper Moon Three?"
Akaza's gaze flickered to (Y/n)'s. He stared for a while, wondering why she had suddenly forsaken her fear. Maybe he'd indulge in her genuine curiosity just this once. "I've been Upper Moon Three for centuries," he said. "There is nothing to it besides serving that man."
"Kibutsuji Muzan?"
"Yes," Akaza said with a slow nod. It was a wonder how (Y/n), a random nobody, knew His name. Judging by her movements, there was no way she was a demon slayer, much less a swordsman. But how else did she know that? Who exactly was this girl? Akaza shifted on the tatami mats, adjusting to sit his numb legs in a criss-cross. "What were you doing out there alone?" he inquired.
The question was innocent, good-natured even. But (Y/n) didn't want to recall. The scent of iron, the screech of a car, and the tears cascading down her face as Kai apologised over and over...
That wasn't something she wanted to remember. Then there was the man, the one who followed her to these lands. He tried to kill her. Why didn't he kill her? Because (Y/n) was quicker. Oh, gods, the memories came rushing back in a flash of faint colour. But they would not falter, they would not disappear.
A sickening churn in (Y/n)'s stomach made her want to hurl. It was suddenly like her first kill when she was only a tiny girl small enough for Kai to gather in his arms. That day, he had been so sick he could barely move. The alleyway they were forced to sleep in for the night didn't do him any good, and some group of no-name thugs came with knives and Quirks easily used for torture.
None of them had laid a hand on Kai that day because (Y/n) killed them. She killed them and she remembered wanting to crawl away and hide.
Today was different. (Y/n) wasn't a small child who didn't know her right from left. She had a conscious train of thought, a mind more advanced than her age, and a sense of reason. Where was that sense of reason? (Y/n) gripped the blankets into a fist. "I killed him." The words were like fish bones stuck in her throat. "I killed that man in the forest." A strange aura fell over the room. Warm, understanding, yet confused and almost...angry. (Y/n)'s shoulders tensed.
This aura wasn't hers, but Akaza's. He sat in front of her, still as an ice sculpture. "Why do you sound upset?" He was almost close enough for their foreheads to touch. "That man tried to kill you." (Y/n)'s stomach felt full yet empty at the same time. She swallowed hard. "You saw?"
"I was just passing when I heard screaming." he said, shuffling a step back. "I was curious. When I got there, I saw that man stab you."
Of course Akaza was a bystander, he was a demon with no business in the affairs of the fleeting beings called humans. The scent of blood must have attracted him. A part of (Y/n) had to admit she was thankful, because it it weren't for him, she would still be outside, likely frost-bitten and close to death. Yet...he was a demon. Surely he would finish her off before the morn.
The intensity of Akaza's persimmon eyes softened. "You're not a demon yet have powers. Is that what your 'Quirk' is?" (Y/n) frowned. She didn't like how nosy he was being. "Why are you asking me this?"
A small smirk that could have been called a smile rose to Akaza's lips as he shrugged casually. "I did see someone's limbs explode from the single touch of a human girl. Don't you think that's enough to pique one's interest?" Whether Akaza's interest was piqued or not didn't matter to (Y/n). She needed to know how long she had been here, where she was, and if getting home could be considered achievable. "That doesn't matter," her voice turned cold, "how long have I been asleep?"
"Four days." The shock flashing across (Y/n)'s face made Akaza laugh. He stood and motioned for her to follow him to the kitchen. "What's there to be concerned about, Wonder Girl? It's not like you have anywhere to go."
That isn't true.
(Y/n) had a family. A plan for the future. A dream and a hope and hopeless aspirations. Her tense silence made Akaza pause. The teasing smile slipped off his lips and he frowned a little. "Unless you do?" (Y/n) crawled out of bed and stretched her stiff limbs, eyes numb and sad. "It doesn't matter, does it?"
But it did. Kai's pleas echoed in the back of her mind like a broken record. Stay awake. Stay awake. Stay awake. His tears, the ones he always refused to show the world, had trailed down his face as he held (Y/n) close, promising that she would be okay. Kai had his Quirk, so why wouldn't it be? But then the world faded, and Kai's protective embrace disappeared.
He was gone. She was alone.
The ache in (Y/n)'s sore limbs numbed compared to the cold pangs in her heart. She half-expected to wake up in her cosy room. Kai would shout at her to hurry up and eat breakfast even though they weren't late for school, then their Oyaji would swing around and greet them with a pat on the head and a warm, loving smile. And then Hari would stop by later in the day, practically attached to Kai at the hip.
(Y/n) wanted to go home, she wanted to be with her family.
"Sorry," she politely muttered. "What did you say?" Akaza made his way to the kitchen, (Y/n) following distantly behind. "You should eat." He gently set a bowl of hot rice soup on the kotatsu table. An egg sat on top, where rolling steam fell over it. "I made this not too long ago. It was in a cookbook I found upstairs in one of the late tenant's rooms. A very simple recipe, although I can't tell if I made it correctly due to my lack of ability to stomach human food."
(Y/n) sat down and blankly stared at the bowl. The thought of eating made bile threaten to rise in her throat as she picked up the spoon. Akaza couldn't have poisoned it when it was easier to snap her neck, but that didn't mean there wasn't a risk. He sat across from her, persimmon eyes patient and calm as he waited. And waited. And waited.
Akaza raised his brows, tilting his head to the side. "Why aren't you eating? Do you not eat this type of food?" His question held a subtle innocence that snapped (Y/n)'s gaze to his. Was he being serious? That patient tone, the way he waited, there had to be something else behind it. If Kai were here, he would have scolded (Y/n) until she got tired of his voice and did what he wanted.
But Akaza? He was a demon with so much more patience. Consideration.
"I like zosui," (Y/n) said. "But I don't feel like eating."
"You have to, or else you will lose strength and get sick." Akaza reasoned. "Your food is getting cold." There weren't any alternative options and he sure as heck wasn't allowing (Y/n) to leave the table on an empty stomach. Despite that, he was everything gentle and oh, so patient.
(Y/n) said a quiet 'itadakimasu' and hesitantly took a bite. The rice soup was bland, with only the egg's runny yolk as a flavouring. But it was better that way. If it were robust, then (Y/n) was sure she would have thrown it all up. Akaza waited in silence as she ate. He observed the exhaustion reflecting on her sullen face and there was something about her that struck him as odd.
The fierce, ice cold eyes of gold he met only four days ago had melted, leaving only a hollowness that made Akaza puzzled. "What brought you into the forest? You were covered in blood." he noted. "I wiped down your face and hands the other day, but wasn't able to do much about your coat."
(Y/n) glared down at her coat with a scowl. She unzipped it and cast it into a corner of the room with a shake of her head. "I see. Thank you...I suppose." Akaza stared at the jacket with a raised brow. Was she afraid of blood? No, he smelled no fear, only anger and bitterness.
"It's dirty." (Y/n) vaguely explained. "I'll clean it later." She finished the soup and sharply set it down with a quiet 'thank you'. Akaza placed his elbow on the table and set his cheek in his hand. "I've never seen clothes or heard a dialect like yours. Where are you from?" (Y/n) adjusted the cuffs of her woolen sweater. Under Akaza's gaze, she felt small and dumb. His incredible intelligence was dizzying and he seemed to pick up on every little thought that ran through her mind.
Was she that easy to read?
"I'm not from here," (Y/n) bitterly said. "It's hard to explain." Akaza passively nodded, as if he could understand what made it so difficult to explain. The lack of trust, the lack of knowledge between them--that was the rift that separated two worlds. "You are bothered by the fact that you are far from home, so you'd rather not think about it? I see."
(Y/n) made an odd face. His calmness overshadowed the gratifying power he omitted, and that? It made (Y/n) want to trust him. Was that okay? Was any of this okay? Her nausea returned in the tense silence, and by the way Akaza watched her, she knew he could sense it.
The blood. The scent of iron. The tears. Oh, how could she be so selfish to forget? How could she block out the face of her dear, elder brother?
Kai. Was he okay? Knowing him, he blamed everything on himself. As the elder brother, he saw it as his responsibility. If (Y/n) could, she'd rip through space and time to get back home. For him. For her Oyaji who worried too much. For Eri-chan who was too young to even go to school. For Hari whom would be left alone.
"(Y/n)," Akaza suddenly said. "What will you do now that you're here? It is clear you have nowhere else to go, but you have yet to make a decision." She fiddled with her hands, gaze slowly meeting his. "Currently, I only have one option, and that's to stay here. Despite that, I'm sure you wouldn't choose that since I'm a human. You said this was the middle of nowhere, so even if I did leave, well..."
(Y/n) saw the dirty streets she and Kai slept on, the rats and mice that crawled and scurried by her feet, the sickness that would plague them every changing season. It was going to happen again. Oh, gods. Gods. The filth, the dirt. She didn't want to think, didn't want to relive the struggle of--
"I won't kick you out, Wonder Girl." Akaza said. "But if you're staying, I have a proposition." He smiled, persimmon eyes flashing in the flickering flames of the stove. "Train with me and I'll teach you what I know. Food and lodging provided, it's not a bad deal. I'm curious about you so I wouldn't mind seeing you grow into someone who can actually fight more than a single man. Demons, after all, don't have much to do in our free time."
He had to be joking. That wasn't just a not-so-bad deal, it was an absolute steal too good to be true. "What are you getting out of this?" (Y/n) stiffly inquired. "There is nothing to gain from housing a human besides your own entertainment."
Akaza's smile grew into a smirk. "That is true, but you are more than meets the eye. The fighting spirit you give off is faint, yet you have the eyes of a warrior. I saw you fight that man. He tried to kill you, so you only gave him back what he deserved despite not wanting to dirty your hands in the first place. It was a glorious battle to the death despite your struggle, and those last words--'At least I know I'm sending you off to hell'. That was beautiful!"
There was a dark glow in his eyes, a dark glint that made (Y/n)'s stomach lurch. "You're physically a weak human, but you interest me."
(Y/n) was stuck between a rock and a hard place. Akaza was a demon who spared her life and took her in, but the reason behind it was far from noble.
'You interest me' wasn't a good incentive. Once all interest faded, then what? Would he cast (Y/n) aside? Let her freeze in the woods overnight? A frown pulled at her lips and she sighed. "I don't have a choice regardless." As long as I survive. "We have a deal, demon." I'm associating with a murderer, but it's not like I'm any better than him. "When do we start?"
"Tonight."
Taisho Era Secrets!
-Akaza originally planned to dump (Y/n) by the roadside for someone to find, but then he thought better of it once she woke up.
-Akaza thinks (Y/n) has a lot of hidden potential. He wants her to harness it and become stronger (and maybe become a demon!).
-Akaza can't figure out why he can't abandon (Y/n). He wonders if it's because she reminds him of someone, but then that makes him angry and he abandons that thought to cool himself down.
-The reason why the futon (Y/n) slept in was so clean was because it was the one Akaza used.
-The abandoned house is actually Akaza's hideout during the day when he isn't a wandering nomad in search of strong demon slayers