Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

“All human beings are born free
and equal in dignity and rights.”

Or so the law said.

Some were lesser humans, and some weren't considered human at all. Himiko belonged to the second category. It wasn't by choice, and if it was a choice, it wasn't hers. She was a monster. Inhumane, abject. These weren't the words she would use to describe herself, but they were the ones others attributed to her anyways. A box she didn't quite feel like she fit in, but still tightened around her chest like a vice.

Not everyone was free, not everyone was equal, but sometimes, she liked to pretend. When she chased after Izuku in the forest and the wind hit her face, it was easy to close her eyes and imagine she could run forever, outside the boundaries of the sanctuary. When she spent time with the other outcasts, and they laughed in chorus, it felt like they weren't shunned from society, like they belonged to this dysfunctional family of misfits.

Some didn't have a real family — a biological one — but most had parted ways with theirs, whether willingly or forcibly. Himiko didn't have a family; well she had one, once. In the dark, she couldn't make out their faces anymore; like round puzzle pieces, some parts were clear, but they couldn't quite assemble, leaving a huge gap never to be filled. That felt like an eternity ago. Before they left her out there to die. Her memories of that night were blurry, but she remembered bits and pieces here and there, when the thunder struck and the rain froze her to the bone. She heard the loud buzzing in her ear masking her mother's screaming fit. Her head throbbed when she tried to focus on the words shouted at her.
Sometimes she wondered how they were doing without their only daughter. Good, she assumed. Terrible, a mean voice in the back of her mind hoped. They didn't deserve to live happily ever after; they didn't deserve to forget, to live a life without her when her own world had stopped spinning. It was hard to imagine a life in which she had stayed, though. There was no point in wondering, anyway.

Himiko didn't like wearing skirts. It was hard to move swiftly in them, but at least they were easy to sew. Today's skirt wasn't her craft, though. She had stolen it from a lady's gigantic walk-in closet, along with other garments for her peers. It was fine; the woman wouldn't ever notice it was gone. How crazy was it, that some people owned priceless outfits they would never wear, while others considered themselves lucky to find usable rags?

The skirt was long — too long, even, but there was no time to shorten it — silky and navy blue. It wasn't her favorite color; she was more fond of pastel shades of pink and yellow, but it was event-appropriate, a traditional wear for funerals. Maybe it was pointless to put in this particular effort when Tenko had never been one for traditions, but she felt like she owed it to him. He didn't have a happy life; born an outcast and shunned from his house at a young age, the universe had no intention of sparing him. The least they could do was make sure he joined the other side in dignity.

Hard to ensure that, when they didn't even have a body to mourn.

The sanctuary — usually bustling — was eerily quiet. Their community was no stranger to death, as most people came from troubled backgrounds, but it had been a while. Sometimes, it was easier to forget, to pretend they weren't hunted down for sport, than to face the harsh reality of their existence.

"Cold-blooded murder," their informant had said. "I wasn't able to discreetly retrieve his body in time."

So they stood in front of a makeshift empty casket, with only a piece of paper in it. The paper was slightly stained, but showed a perfectly calligraphied name and a shaky portrait. Tenko always teased Izuku for doodling and scribbling information all day in his notebooks. Ironically enough, his skills were all they had now to properly honor him. He never joined in on group pictures.

Tenko wasn't the most joyful person, but he was as loved as any member of the community was. Grumpy, but touching in his own way. He had joined their group when they were still small, and he was too. Over the years, he'd grown into an important member, one you could rely on, one that represented them all.

As a friend of his took the floor and gave his eulogy, Izuku snuffled. He always hated funerals. Himiko didn't mind them much — after all, she knew Death all too well — but she felt furious. All of them were forced to live away from civilization, scared of ending up at the stake. They owned nothing. All they had was each other, and some selfish prick from the city even took that away from them, in typical capital fashion: rob the plebs while the elite thrived.

She licked at her fangs angrily, a nervous tic she couldn't help when anxious. Silence in the ranks, yet the tension was palpable. They were all thinking the same thing: soon enough, their time would come. A time of freedom; a time where they took back what was theirs.

Inhale. Exhale. Inhale.
A round of applause erupted under the big top as the candle was blown out. Someone behind Ochako ruffled her dirty hair before bending over the table to scoop the candle off the layer of white frosting. Berries and vanilla, a flavor she had always loved. It reminded her of afternoons spent berry-picking with her parents. 'A fun family activity' as they called it; now that she was older, she could recognize it for what it was: scavenging for food they weren't able to afford. A small nip at her cheek with the dirty candle drove her out of her thoughts.

"Cheer up, Uraraka! Today is your special day!"
"I didn't have time to find you a proper gift, but I hope you'll like it!" her best friend exclaimed from the other side of the table, tossing a wrapped box her way.
It was a pink bracelet, clearly handmade. She smiled at the green-haired girl and put it on her wrist.

Ochako didn't like being the center of attention, especially when it came to pointless stuff like this. After all, what changed? It was an important turn in her life, sure, but that didn't mean there had to be a whole ceremony in her honor. Her novitiate robe felt heavy around her, heavier than it ever had been before, or maybe that sinking-stone feeling in her stomach found its source elsewhere, in a place she couldn't quite identify.

Soon enough, the cake was eaten, all gifts were given, and people scattered. Unable to ease the knot in her stomach, she found herself sitting in front of the huge bonfire, lost in thought. One of her classmates, Bakugo, joined her. They weren't exactly close, not that the boy would ever admit to being close to anyone, but they both recognized the other as a fierce adversary. It was all that mattered in this field, after all.
"What does it feel like?"
"I am a changed woman," she replied with irony, making a show of rolling her eyes.
"Don't be such an ass," he slapped her shoulder. "It's your first, right? It gotta mean something."

She only shrugged, empty gaze straying towards the dancing flames, lifeless eyes staring right back at her.
"How could it mean something? I didn't even know his name."
The blonde frowned. He almost looked cute, like that, with scrunched eyebrows and confused eyes. His red robe made his ruby eyes stand out more, cheeks rose-tinted by the warmth of the bonfire hitting his face.

"Its name doesn't matter. What matters is that it's gonna end up here," he grabbed the crimson cord surrounding her neck and pulled, bringing her closer until they were only a few inches apart. Way shorter than him, her gaze immediately met his neck, where a similar decoration encircled him. His own lace was bedecked with three large and dark glass beads.

Tradition wanted the ashes of cremated monsters to be turned into onyx-colored pearls and collected by the hunters. Novitiates wore them around their necks as a token of victory. Victory over a monster's existence. In a week, she would get to wear her first-ever pearl and proudly display it across her chest. Nineteen more to go, and she would graduate, finally becoming a full-fledged hunter, as she had always dreamed she one day would be.

Swallowing felt like sandpaper scratching her oesophagus, as she brought her own hand to her lace, imagining what it would feel like complete, with twenty beads. With nineteen lifeless pairs of eyes to add to her count. Despite the warmth of the bonfire, a chill raised the hair on her arms. The weight of the empty cord already resembled a noose, tight around her neck.

Chapter Text

Drip. Drop. Drip. Drop.
Soft rain outside the cabin fell on the puddles of melted snow. Spring had begun a while ago, but the sun had yet to show its rays. No thunder outside, only the faint chinking of droplets drowning on the ground.

All this rain is starting to get on my nerves, Himiko thought.
At least, the mountain they lived on was elevated enough that there was almost no flood risk. They were precarious enough as they were. The cabin was cold, though, humidity making its way into the wooden walls and freezing their feet. Only the golden flames dancing in the makeshift hearth could shake the tremor off their limbs.

"I know it's a lot to ask, but you are the only one capable of reaching them safely."
Himiko nodded in understanding. She was a creature of the night, after all; it only made sense they tasked her with this.
This? Infiltrating the Hunter Academy, finding Tenko's murderer and taking the hostage back with her, with the aim of using their leverage to negotiate new legislation in their favor with the capital.

It wasn't the first time they tried to pull something like this. Himiko already knew how it would end. The Academy would most likely pretend to put up a fight for a while before giving up on its student. They had so many others, she didn't see why they would bother with this one. The Hunter Academy was known for its ruthless, 'survival of the fittest' training methods. Realistically, that student would probably end up dead, once they served — or failed to serve — their purpose. It was cruel, but at least dead people couldn't talk.

"I'll do it," she declared. What other choice did she have? Even though she had no faith in their plan, it wasn't her role to crush the embers of rebellion they were trying to ignite. She had long given up on changing the world. People like her would forever be bound to the shadows. Revolt happened in numbers, and they definitely did not have this advantage.

"We're not asking you to put yourself in danger, of course."
'We' referred to the only people in the sanctuary who still held hope for the future. A trio of misfits: one shunned for the unappealing scales covering his skin, a man full of rage who willingly joined them after burning his house to ashes, and a former Hunter who had recognized the evil of her actions and chose to leave her old life behind.
"If you find her on the first try, it's perfect, but if not, you can try again later."
"Her?"

It didn't even cross her mind that Tenko's murderer could have been a girl. Maybe it was wrong of her to assume something like that.
"Yeah. We don't know much about her. That's why we don't expect you to come back with her on the first night. The only thing we do know, though, is that Tenko was the Novitiate's first kill. That means, only one bead around her neck. That should make it easier to find her."

Himiko nodded, taking in the information. Alright. She could do this.
"When do I start?"
"Tonight?"
She acquiesced, mentally preparing herself. It wasn't her first time spying on the Academy, but this one felt different. She couldn't explain it, though. It was as subtle as a tingle on the tip of her fingers; a bitter taste on her tongue, swallowed away by the lingering aroma of iron.

The sun was already starting to disappear behind the coral skyline. Himiko headed back to the cabin she used to share with Tenko. It felt eerily quiet, now. She quickly washed up and changed clothes in the same silence she had been living in for about a week now. She didn't have that many clothes; most of them were stolen or scraps sewn together. The ones she opted for tonight were dark skin-tight pants and a thick black sweater covering every inch of skin, from her bony wrists to her marred throat.

If she wanted to blend with the shadows, she had to play her part thoroughly. It was almost natural for her, after all this time, to travel through the darkness. Where she was once taken with nausea and hammering migraines, she now only felt a minor headache on the busiest nights.

The sanctuary was strangely noisy for a hidden place. They were far enough away from the capital to let loose from time to time. Confined to their estranged bubble, it was easy to forget this wasn't a simple rustic village, but a refuge. It didn't look like one, at first glance. After all, almost nothing differentiated demons from other people. What separated those who belonged and those who didn't? The line was thin.

As isolated as they were, they were still able to subsist by trading with other villages, though quite far away, and making do with their own tools. Their makeshift community was anything but legal, and as such, they couldn't function like others, sometimes adopting unethical methods to survive. The surrounding woods gave them enough resources to build small cabins, find food, and — mostly — clear water. Of course, Himiko's getaways were a crucial asset to their survival.

People greeted her as she crossed the village, a small smile on their faces, recognizing her dark gear. They probably imagined she was about to rob a bourgeois' pantry again. Too bad for them, tonight's loot wouldn't be theirs.

"Himiko!" a familiar voice called out.
She turned around to face her green-haired friend, pouting. She already knew what he would say. Izuku had those big, shiny eyes, green like the moss under their feet, that put his every feeling on display.

"I heard you're going on a pretty big mission tonight."
She shrugged, expecting it. He was younger than her by a few years, and yet acted like a mother hen.
"'I've done it before."
"No, you haven't," he frowned. "This one is way more dangerous, you know that. There's a difference between stealing canned food and kidnapping someone!"

Himiko rolled her eyes, and before Izuku could open his mouth to protest, she declared:
"You're not coming with me."
"Why not?!" he asked, brows furrowed and mouth dropping in a disappointed grimace. "You're well aware I can fight, even if I lack magic."
"You know it's not about that." She grabbed his shoulders and looked him in the eyes. "I can't bring you with me, because if we get separated, you won't have a way to come back. I can always shadow-travel back to safety, but you?" she let out a nervous laugh. "You'd be stuck there. Who knows what they'd do to you?"

It was a rhetorical question. Himiko knew all too well what people in the city were capable of. She'd experienced their cruelty firsthand, and Izuku had too, to some extent.

Izuku was a walking contradiction. He always tried to dissuade his friends from venturing outside the community, but was often the first one to raise his hand when a willing participant was needed to go out on an excursion. Apparently, danger only mattered when he wasn't the one at risk.

"This is non-negotiable. Besides, I'll be more discreet on my own."
Her best friend grumbled a few more words of discontent before looking down at his well-worn shoes, cheeks red with embarrassment.
"Sorry. You know how I am."
"A worrier, yes."

He nodded, and Himiko immediately noticed his suspiciously glistening eyes. Letting out a tired smile, she opened her arms and he understood the message right away, throwing himself into a hug. They weren't always like this. At first, Himiko had a hard time letting people be so close to her, but the verdet had somehow managed to carve a way into her shell, and couldn't seem to dislodge himself from it. Not that she wanted him to.

This proximity had become an anchor for them both. Growing up isolated, they quickly learned that their people were all they had, and the two had taken a liking to each other over time. They had nothing in common; just two city kids who ended up in the same rogue village. Life fucked them over and they ended up here, alone but not quite.

As the moon loomed over them, Himiko extricated herself from Izuku's embrace and headed towards the highest cabin on the mountainside, where her outcast friends awaited her. She knocked on the wooden door and let herself in without waiting for an answer.

Dabi, a fallen aristocrat with hair and skin as pale as snow, save for the charred scars he bore, turned to her, a manic smirk teasing the corner of his mouth. They all felt antsy, reinvigorated at this newfound hope. Maybe they could avenge their friend. Maybe they would get a chance at life again.

She didn't have to say anything; they could see it clearly on her face. I'm ready, her expression read.

"Good luck."
An ironic greeting for those who had been unlucky their whole lives.
"If someone sees you and you have no other choice, take them out, but we have to keep quiet about this."
She nodded, understanding.
"If anything goes wrong, I can just come back immediately."

They trusted her with this. They knew that, unlike a certain friend of hers, she wouldn't put herself in unnecessary danger. Survival first.
"That's what I wanted to hear. Now, don't forget to bring the target back alive."
Himiko grinned, swiping her tongue over her flashing white fangs.
"No promises," she giggled, knowing damn well she would carry out their plan to the letter. "I'll be on my way, then."

She headed back towards the forest, where her cabin lay beneath a giant oak tree, the place she had called home for almost a decade, a somber spot hidden under a mass of branches and organic foil sticking out from everywhere. At night, it was pitch black. No moonlight could filter through the thick leaves.

Anyone else would probably trip over their own feet if they dared to venture into the forest, but it was no problem for Himiko. She was born from a pit of darkness, night felt like home, if home didn't designate a place.

She knew this spot like the back of her hand. After walking through the foliage behind her house, she dove headfirst into the shadows.

Even as experienced as she was, she still felt that weird, wet sensation, as though someone had poured a bucket of cold water over her head. Her entire being was frozen to the bone, the tip of her fingers feeling stiff, as she ventured in pure darkness. She skimmed through the entire network of shadows at her disposal; hidden alcove on a cliffside, wine cellar — she filed this one in a corner of her mind for later — tiny closet in a community center, ah! There it was.

The shadow realm was a strange thing. It wasn't out of this world, but it wasn't ordinary either; more like two realms of existence that were distinct, and yet overlapped. She could remove herself from her flesh cell and grow into any shape she wished; taking a peek from a door's interstice, sticking her ear in the dark space between someone's shirt and their skin when she wanted to be nosy… An infinity of possibilities, and the one she would choose for tonight was… this!

The Hunter Academy wasn't too hard to find. Entering wasn't a problem; getting out unnoticed would be.

She emerged from where she was spying under the bed, almost knocking her head on the mattress while regaining her physical form. The person above her hummed a low song. The robe hung on the door displayed a white stripe around the neckline; a male uniform. Himiko rolled her eyes and fell back into the darkness, trying to find her way into another room. She had forgotten how much teenagers liked to stay awake into the dead of night, kept busy by futilities. Sleeping preys made her job easier.

She tried other rooms before finally reaching the girls' dormitories. After listening to her first target's calm breathing, she got out of the closet she was currently hiding in and approached the sleeping form. It was a girl with fire-red hair, sharp teeth, and sharp nails. One bead around her neck. One life she had taken for herself.

Himiko suppressed her gag, thinking about the charred remains stuck in the glass bead, and noted down the room number. Time to find out who else fit the criteria.
She quietly slipped into the next room. Three beads. Again. Ten beads, she almost retched. Again. One bead, write the number down. Again.

It was getting tiring to witness all those savages sleeping peacefully; around their necks, the ashes of people who would never wake again.

This room was the last one. She had already jotted down a few numbers to keep watch on. She would have to follow them closely over the next few days and try to find out if they were the one she was looking for. That would come later, though. Even if she had gotten better at shadow-traveling, doing it so insistently was starting to get to her, and her breath was getting short.

The room had a weird smell, suspiciously too sweet, like someone had sprayed expensive perfume all over and rolled themselves in essential oils. Himiko approached the bed, where the sleeping girl lay. She rested on her side, knee raised and one hand tucked under her pillow. Her relaxed face and peaceful breathing almost made her look harmless.

Himiko approached her slowly, careful not to let the floorboards creak under her weight. It would be a shame to get caught before checking the last girl's necklace. She dipped a finger under her collar, grabbing the string without so much as grazing the brunette's skin. It came out of her sleeping robe bare. No beads. Wrong person.

Himiko let out a relieved sigh; the first step of her mission was over. So late at night, it would practically be impossible to find out which one of the one-beaded girls had murdered Tenko. She'd come back later to finish the job.

She let go of the string necklace, and the sleeping girl rolled over to her back, exposing her plump cheeks and rosy cheeks. That same god-awful fragrance assaulted Himiko's nostrils and throat, and she coughed, realizing her mistake too late.

The Novitiate blinked, rapidly processing what was happening above her.

"If anything goes wrong, I can just come back immediately," her own voice resonated over her ringing ears.
She felt exhausted to her bones, like every one of her limbs was dragging her down, feet glued to the floor.
Come on… Just a tiny bit more energy…

In an instant, the Witch bolted out of her bed, lunging towards her. Himiko's survival instincts took over, and she turned around, falling headfirst into the shadows.

Her panicked travel didn't lead her straight into her own home, but right in the center of the town square, where she promptly dropped to her knees, exhausted. Her loud breathing and the ringing in her ears drowned every sound around her, as she coughed, gasping for air.

Suddenly, something cold and sharp grazed her throat over her turtleneck, and her body reacted before her mind would, jolting back and knocking on a pair of legs. She rolled over, avoiding the knife, and stood up abruptly, meeting her assailant's eyes. They were big, brown, and laced with a kind of fury she'd had often encountered before. Betrayal, panic, hatred, all mixed in a single gaze.

The girl must have followed her while she was shadow-traveling, panic clouding her judgement and preventing her from noticing it. The Novitiate spun her weapon in her hand before throwing herself in Himiko's direction, poised for attack.

"Who are you, Monster?!" she shouted, her voice full of venom. "What were you doing in my room?!"
Her screams pierced the nighttime silence. Himiko didn't answer, focusing on fixing her mistake and getting the girl away from the town square, where most of the villagers lived. She would never forgive herself for putting them in danger.

The outcast ducked as the whistle of the blade resonated, swooshing through the air. She heard a door slam and Izuku's worried cry, calling her name.

Without a second thought, he went back inside his cabin and got out, pistol in hand, ready to intervene.
"If someone sees you and you have no other choice, take them out," Dabi's voice resonated in the back of her mind.
There wasn't time to hesitate. No one would get hurt tonight. Not because of her.

Acting on instinct, she tackled the nameless girl on the ground, putting most of her bodyweight on her legs, pinning her down. One hand brought the Witch's wrists together while the other grabbed her chin. Fangs bared, Himiko leaned forward, ready to rip her throat out.

"Himiko!" the brunette called desperately, eyes wide open in panic.
Upon hearing this word, she froze. Fog in her eyes and lead in her limbs, she sucked in a sharp breath, suddenly unable to move. She could hear Izuku's footsteps in the puddles of rainwater rapidly approaching.

The Witch escaped her hold and grabbed Himiko by the back of her neck, before pulling hard, bringing them closer until they touched. The sting of a harsh bite at her bottom lip made Himiko gasp; it had been a long time since she had felt a burn like this. Loudly searching for air, fingers shaking, aching for an anchor, Himiko missed the familiar click-click or a loading weapon as the Witch licked the blood gushing out of her lip, eyes wide, full of an emotion she couldn't quite place.

After what felt like an hour of suffering, the brown-eyed girl pulled Himiko's limp body in front of her, shielding herself from the raised weapon in their direction.
"Go on, shoot! If I die, she dies with me!" she shouted at Izuku.

Himiko wiggled her fingers, her mobility finally coming back to her, mind still fuzzy. She raised her head, meeting the Hunter's smug gaze. The entire bottom half of her face was painted in a vibrant shade of red. Something had changed, but she couldn't say what.

The commotion had brought dozens of people outside, witnessing the scene, all clueless as to how to act. In the blurry ocean of faces, she could barely make out the shaken faces of her friends.
"You're lying!" Izuku shouted as he took another step towards them.
"Am I?" she said before pushing Himiko flat on the ground. "I bound our souls together! Watch this."

She grabbed her abandoned knife, running it against her own skin, flesh parting like the Red Sea. Himiko let out a sharp cry, tugging her own unblemished forearm against her side protectively. Izuku lowered his pistol.
"Stop that!" he asked, voice shaking.

The Hunter let go of the knife, a wobbly smile making its way on her face.

She'd won.

Chapter Text

Ironically enough, Himiko hated the dark. Well, that wasn't completely true; she hated lying in the darkness, in those fuzzy moments when she wasn't asleep and yet not awake either. In the twilight, the fog surrounding her mind confused her. It picked elements from her memory, from different times of her life, and mixed them all together, deceiving her senses. She knew it wasn't real. Rationally, she did. But it didn't feel like it.

In the summer, the warmth of her blanket reminded her of her grandma's house, where she used to sleep every Wednesday, the phantom noise of a pendulum resonating in the quiet of her room. In the winter, when the fire died in the night and she woke up frozen to the bone, it sometimes took her a while to realize she wasn't six feet underground, a storm raging outside and slimy worms tickling her toes.

Even worse, when Tenko woke up before her and went about his day, the quiet bustling of his stuff being moved around the cabin reminded her of home; of the way her parents would both wake up so much earlier than her, ready to start their day at dawn. She could hear her mom whistling and could smell the faint aroma of coffee in the air. Himiko had never liked coffee, but her dad did, and that was enough for that smell to bring her comfort.

These were the hardest nights. She felt more at peace than she had ever been, before coming back to her senses, confronted with the harsh truth that this wasn't her reality anymore.

Quiet breathing resonated in the air. Quieter than usual.

Oh, right, Tenko was dead. There was an impostor in his bed.

Memories from last night came rushing back to her, and she winced. It wasn't unusual for her to come back empty-handed, but getting the wrong cargo was a first.

Ochako — that was the girl's name — had tied their lives together, like threads intertwining until they formed a sturdy, woven fabric; one that couldn't be torn apart easily.

With her newly-gained leverage, the Witch hadn't even fought. She didn't squirm when they tied her hands behind her back. She knew whatever treatment they had in store for her wouldn't be too painful, so as not to harm their little monster-friend.

They had dragged her to Izuku's cabin, a tiny wooden house he didn't share with anyone, in the center of the village, where they interrogated her. They asked for her name — Ochako —, her age — twenty-one —, her killcount — to which she just held up her blank necklace. She kept quiet when questioned about her powers.

As the Outcasts realized nothing more would come out of her mouth, they cut short the interview and sent both girls back to Himiko's cabin. It was the furthest from the village, one where the Witch couldn't harm the rest of them.

Himiko was making her way back to her house, dragging the tied-up Witch behind her. She could feel dozens of eyes following her, every villager peeking their head out of their house to watch them.
You let the fox into the henhouse, they said. Don't mess things up again.

A few hours later, they were sitting on her cold floor, waiting for their food to cook, eyeing Ochako suspiciously.

"So you're a vampire, right?" The Novitiate enquired with a nonchalant tone.

Himiko was no fool, and she knew it wasn't an innocent question. Next to her, Izuku poured stew into three bowls; one to share with the captive girl. Her hands were still tied behind her back, and she stared at them with defiance in her eyes. The boy approached Ochako hesitantly, feeding her a spoonful of stew. He had always been the most altruistic of the two.

"Why do you ask?"
"You should be dead," she ignored her question.
Himiko swallowed, fists clenching. She didn't want to give a monster like her the time of day.

"Sorry, that sounded mean," the Novitiate continued after swallowing. "Your kind specifically, vampires, you truly are a fascinating anomaly. Traditionally, we burn corpses — of any kind — to make sure the dead don't ever come back. But you evidently did, so that means you weren't cremated. Who buried you? Your family? Your parents? Did they expect you to come back? I guess not, since you ended up here. Or are they dead? Were you simply never buried? Did nobody look for you?"

Himiko ground her teeth together in an uncomfortable squeak, fangs elongating.
"What did you just say?!"
"Whoa, I touched a nerve, it seems. My apologies, Vampire," Ochako smiled. "I tend to ramble in uncomfortable situations."

Izuku brought another spoonful of stew to her mouth, thinking aloud:
"You're trying to get a rise out of her. Is that what they teach you in that fancy school of yours? 'Make the monsters angry and they'll be careless enough to reveal their weaknesses'?"

Ochako's smile fell to form a flat line, lips pinched, eyebrows furrowed. Her gaze strayed to the window. There was nothing to see, except for trees, but she squinted her eyes like it would indicate where their secret lair was located.

"You won't leave this house today", Izuku warned. "Not until we know you're not going to kill the first innocent villager on sight."
"I mean… Maybe she won't have the guts to do so," Himiko mocked, grabbing the Witch's bare necklace.
Ochako pulled back abruptly, like the Outcast's skin could burn hers.
"I will gut you without an ounce of remorse," she threatened.

Himiko's ears twitched, picking up faint beats, louder and faster than usual. She grinned. The Novitiate could pretend to be a feral killer all she wanted; her frantic heart rate betrayed her. The blonde got up and put on a warm fur coat, readying herself to leave the house.

"Sure thing, honey. I bet you will gut me."

True to their word, Izuku and Himiko didn't let Ochako out of the cabin for the first two days, until they came to an agreement. No killing, no harming, no fighting, nothing. The Witch, tired of being stuck and tied up in the same place, quickly agreed to their terms.

They all knew she was just buying herself more time; playing the role of an obedient hostage, gaining their trust, waiting for the right moment to slice their throats and make an escape. They wouldn't fall for that ploy. Instead, Izuku even hoped they could show her how harmless the Outcasts were and bring the Witch to their side.

Futile, Himiko thought.

There was no point in using logic with a brainwashed killing machine. This whole thing was useless, and she was starting to think she shouldn't even have accepted this plan to begin with. It would've saved her a lot of trouble.

"Where are we going?" the brunette asked.
Himiko didn't answer. Complete silence, save for their footsteps on the mud path and the faint clinking of the Witch's chains, encircling her ankles.

Only her wrists were restrained at first, but after she tried to run away during the night, harsher measures were taken.

"I'm going back to my house", Izuku stated.
After all, he couldn't simply put his life on hold and wait for Ochako to join their side. He had matters to attend to. Himiko did too, but she was the one tasked with surveying the Novitiate. Because of their Life Bond, Himiko couldn't harm the Witch, but the opposite was true as well.

"You're going to stay with me today", the blonde commanded. "You do anything weird and I send you back to the cabin."
Ochako tried to cross her arms against her chest, but was quickly stopped by her iron shackles. She rolled her eyes, not bothering to answer. They both knew she wouldn't try to escape so soon, still monitored.

The silence seemed to make her uncomfortable, though, as she asked after a few minutes:
"So what's the plan, Vampire? Are we going to bleed innocents to satisfy your gargantuan hunger?"
She was staring at Himiko's lips, behind which were hidden long and shiny fangs.
"Very funny."

People stared at them curiously as they made their way through the village. Ochako seemed to appreciate the visit, taking in her surroundings like she was mentally writing everything down. There were at least forty cabins; rudimentary squares built with wooden planks and terracotta tiles. Everything seemed damp, huge puddles of water covered the cobblestone path, framed with wooden lampposts. For a secluded community, they sure seemed well-organized.

"We're not totally helpless", Himiko spoke, as if reading her thoughts. "Everyone here contributes, and the surrounding villages are also a huge support. We need that if we want to live peacefully. As peacefully as your people allow us, that is."

She stopped in front of a bigger cabin; probably a building, by their standards.
"We have children and teenagers here. Not many, and we definitely can't give them proper schooling, but we try."
"And you teach here?"
"I told you, it's not a school. The younger ones learn how to read and write, and then we learn what we can about survival until we're old enough to contribute in turn."
"We? You were one of them?"

The vampire shrugged and opened the front door.
"I've been here for a while. Now, get moving."
She paused before looking back for a quick moment.
"And for the record, I never drink human blood."

When Himiko mentioned survival training, Ochako had envisioned something more… intense. Something resembling their training, back at the academy. Weapon-wielding or combat training.

"And this one?" Himiko asked, pointing at a picture.
The Vampire sat next to a blue-haired girl, who couldn't be more than twelve years old. She was holding a wrinkled book with a brown leather cover.
"Hmm… a fox?", the girl answered, uncertain.
"That's it! Very good, Eri."

While Himiko was reviewing different forest animal prints with the girl, the other kids silently read. There were only five of them; all the older teens had already left school — well, not school, whatever they called it.

That Eri girl looked frail, but she was an Unraveler; one of the most dangerous kinds of monsters there were. Ochako eyed the children suspiciously. Rationally, she could take them out. She should take them out. As young as they were, they represented a threat to national security and needed to be eliminated.

Images flashed; her first and only kill. Blood everywhere, on her hands, in her eyes, in her mouth.

She gasped before getting up abruptly and walking towards the front door, followed closely by Himiko's suspicious gaze.

"I will gut you without an ounce of remorse."

She stumbled out of the building, a violent cough creeping up her throat.
"It's fine", she mumbled to herself, almost out of breath. "Everything is fine."
She grabbed her necklace, feeling the way the smooth threads of wool glided against her fingers. Had she stayed in the Academy, had she never been taken away, the blank lace would've been bedecked with an onyx-black dark pearl. An undeniable proof of her achievement; a reminder of the day she had eliminated that Unraveler.

She was here, now, trying to navigate this new world full of monsters.

A pink bracelet ornating her wrist caught her eye, a reminder of her friends back at the Academy. The Witch clenched her fists. She would come back to them, sooner or later, no matter the price.