… And Justice For All

Prelude: Burn it to the Ground

Here's an attempt at a Claymore fanfic. I don't know if anyone else has tried this particular idea before, but I don't think so. The premise is this: Clare still vows to avenge Teresa by killing Priscilla, but she also chooses to follow her "mother's" wishes by remaining a human. Therefore, we have one smokin' hot badass HUMAN woman trying to kill another lady with as much power as an Abyssal One, and eventually bring down the Organization. And yes, until I can think of a better title, I'm ripping off Metallica. Also, if you have a complaint about something, I'd be more than happy to hear it in a review, SO LONG AS YOU'RE REASONABLE ABOUT SAYING IT.

Also, pairing will probably be Clare/OC and OC/Miria (two different OCs, not one hooking up with both of them), or else Clare/OC/Miria (yes, that means I'm willing to take a stab at a multi-pairing…this time… and which IS the one OC hooking up with both Miria and Clare). This is non-negotiable. End of that particular discussion before it even gets off the ground. Don't ask why. Because to be honest, I don't know either. All I do know is that I have issues with Raki, while Father Vincent, Sid, and Galk aren't cool OR important enough to get the female protagonist, and I'll be damned before I hook her up with Isley, Rigaldo, some dude out of the Organization. And Riful (so cute, and yet so terrifying when brought to anger!) knows where I live, so I'm not pairing Clare with Dauf, either – not that anyone even bordering on sane should consider that…

Speaking of which, I'm making a very, very slight crossover. And by that, I mean that one of my OCs is basically a Claymore version of a character from something else. It's your job to guess who and from what, but I've already decided. First one of you to guess his identity correctly, though, will get a special mention.

Approximately ten years ago…

A young Clare sat sobbing in the middle of a wasteland that couldn't quite be called a desert in good conscience. She clutched closely the disembodied head of the one person who had, beyond the shadow of a doubt, been as important to Clare as air to breathe – scratch that, even more important than oxygen.

Teresa of the Faint Smile.

Just moments ago, another Claymore named Priscilla had Awakened before killing Teresa, the woman whom Clare had viewed as a sister, a mother, and perhaps even a Goddess all rolled into one beautiful package.

To Clare, Teresa hadn't just been like food, water, or oxygen – something that she needed to live… No, Teresa had been more like the sun, the symbol of life itself, bringer of light and happiness into a world of sorrow and hate.

And now, because of Priscilla, that light was gone, permanently. Never again would Teresa give that faint smile for which she was so well known. Teresa wouldn't ever be able to cry, to scream, to provide safety or comfort, to laugh, or get that mischievous glint in her eyes when she was teasing her, yet Clare was too dense to realize it was just a joke.

All of it was gone, and it was never coming back.

To be honest, Clare's first impulse had been to look for someone from the Organization and demand to be made a Claymore, but she instantly quelled that idea before it could be given even the slightest chance to take hold: if it hadn't been for the Organization, Teresa would still be alive, and Clare wouldn't be having this problem right now.

"It's all their fault. Priscilla killed her, but it's their fault for hunting us down in the first place. I'll be damned a thousand times before I go to their doorstep, begging for help."

And more importantly than that, Teresa's last words to Clare took priority over everything else: "I want you to live as a human, Clare. That is the greatest gift I can give you."

Clare didn't understand why that was so, but she refused to question Teresa's judgment. She would follow her mother/sister/goddess's final wishes, and remain a human for the rest of her life, if at all possible.

Even so, however, Clare was still determined to get revenge.

"Teresa, I promise that I won't let them get away with this. I'll stay a human like you wanted me to, but I can't forgive them for taking you away from me. If it's the last thing I do, I'll kill Priscilla and bring the Organization to its knees and make them beg for the mercy they denied us, I swear it."

As she said these words, Clare walked over to Teresa's massive sword, picked up what she could, and gave herself a small cut on the palm, sealing her oath with blood.

Meanwhile, at Organization HQ…

Rubel, a somewhat high-ranked figure in the Organization, suddenly paused in his rounds, feeling an involuntary shudder down his spine. He somehow got the feeling that he'd either missed an excellent recruiting opportunity, his days were numbered, or both.

In either case, surely he had nothing to worry about, since all of the Claymores were under extreme supervision, and the only recent troublemaker, Teresa of the Faint Smile, was dead. Rubel had half considered attempting to suggest leniency on the Number 1, but had thought better of it, since if it had been ignored, it would've set a bad precedent for the lower-ranked warriors. No, it was better to make sure that they were all treated fairly and exactly the same – no matter how terribly so.

Three weeks later…

Clare knew that Claymores were a whole order of magnitudes more powerful than humans, and that Awakened Beings in general (nevermind freaks like Priscilla) were more powerful than Claymores on an individual basis.

But without going to the Organization in order to become a Claymore, Clare had initially not known how to get the kind of power that she needed to carry out her vengeance while still remaining human. She knew that, for an obvious start, she needed to gain some physical strength, until she could hold Teresa's Claymore with one hand. Then, she'd almost certainly need someone to teach her how to use it. But then, Clare thought, why should she restrict herself to swords? If Clare could learn how to use, and eventually master a number of different weapons – including her own body, for instance – then she'd have the advantage most times, since she could change weapons in the middle of a fight, catching her opponent off guard.

As a result, she'd taken to wandering through various towns and villages, looking for a specific idea to get her started. Not that she wasn't making any effort of her own – far from it: Clare had, for lack of any better ideas, begun doing push-ups and the like to increase her strength, and also running laps around a small section of forest with Teresa's Claymore strapped to her back. Okay, it was really more like limping/crawling laps, considering her physical strength (or to be honest, lack thereof), and also her small stature.

In order to avoid attracting undue attention, Clare hid the Claymore in a safe place (read: in a high place, so perilously perched that Clare repeatedly risked her life to get it up there, not to mention getting it back down…), and put Teresa's head with it as a guardian.

Clare was currently, as she often did, essentially touring the town, looking for someone who appeared to be strong enough to teach her what she needed to know, would be WILLING to do so, and wouldn't betray her to the Organization or to Yoma.

However, Clare wasn't able to sustain herself on willpower alone – she needed to eat, so in order to afford food, she offered to do odd jobs from time to time while in town. Since she'd just been paid for helping a widow sell her dead husband's things, Clare went to a local tavern to get some lunch. Little did she know, however, that her search for power might at last yield fruit.

The tavern/inn was nearly empty when Clare arrived to get some food, but considering the time of day, that was to be expected: after all, the majority of people would still be working, if they had a job.

Naturally, though, the pleasant silence had to be destroyed all too soon. There was someone new sitting at the counter, drinking hard liquor. He was clad entirely in black, like someone from the Organization, except that his jacket was in tatters, and his unruly black hair fell over his eyes in such as way that glasses weren't needed to hide eye color. For some odd reason, though, Clare knew that there was more to this man then met the eye, but she couldn't place it. He wasn't the problem, though – the man just sat at the counter, minding his own business.

Looking around, Clare noticed that there happened to be a couple of Claymores in the bar as well, presumably because they had either a mission in town, or were on the way to somewhere else.

Just as Clare made this observation, that's when the Yoma burst through the wall – evidently, humans weren't the only people to get their meals in this establishment. There were two of them, the first (and coincidentally, ugliest) of whom noticed the stranger at the bar, and dashed at him at speeds almost beyond the range of the human eye.

However, just as it seemed that the man was going to be killed, he kicked away from the counter and wheeled around to face his assailant, quickly deflecting the Yoma's claw strike with his arm – not blocking it, but rather pushing it out of the way.

Then, he grabbed onto the counter for support with his right hand, and lashed out at the Yoma's stomach with a devastating kick using his left leg.

Seeing his partner getting humiliated by a mere human, the second Yoma extended his claws into spears which he thrust at the peculiar fighter, although he simply picked up the first Yoma by the head and used it for a meat-shield before ducking out of the way.

Then, he seemed to fade into the background for a moment, before he reappeared directly in front of the second Yoma and let him have a swift right hook, which was powerful enough to not only knock the demon to the ground, but the fist actually went through the Yoma's face, such was the impact force. Then, before it could get back up, the man in black stepped on the Yoma's larynx, crushing it. It had all happened so fast that the Claymores were only halfway out of their seats, and every human in the room was paralyzed from awe and terror.

As the suffocating Yoma's struggling began to subside, the man turned to the bartender and said, "Get me another round."

Snapping out of his shock, said barkeep quickly went about doing as his customer bade him, the Claymores sat back down, and Clare, seeing an opportunity, began walking in his direction.

"Excuse me, mister, but would you be willing to help me with something?"

Seeing that it was a little girl who spoke to him, the stranger replied, "Depends on what that something is."

Clare answered, "Please, mister, I need you to train me so that I can avenge someone who was close to me."

Taking another huge gulp of alcohol, the man in black returned, "First off, in the even that I do consent to this insanity of yours, what's in it for me? And secondly, again, in the event that I agree to train you, what will you do after you've gotten your vengeance, if you're not killed in pursuit of it first? I'm waiting for an answer, small fry."

Clare paused for a moment – she honestly hadn't thought about what she'd do after the fact, nor did could she come up with a satisfactory reason for him to help her.

The man sighed a bit as he said, "That's what I thought. You're so caught up in hatred at the person or thing that killed your loved one that you can't see past it; you're rendered blind by your lust for revenge. Whoever you're trying to avenge, kid, nothing's going to change. Even if you kill the person who killed your loved one, it won't change a thing. They're dead, and they'll never be coming back. And since it was probably a Yoma that you're wanting to kill, go talk to the Claymores on the other side of the room – their Organization can make you one of them, and then you can go off killing as many Yoma as you like, and get paid for it, too. Another round, barkeep."

Clare responded, "That idea had already occurred to me, mister, but no matter what, I won't become a Claymore, even though I have to kill a Voracious Eater!"

At that declaration, all three of the Claymores' heads instantly snapped in Clare's direction, all attention on her. What kind of girl that age ever even considered becoming a Claymore by choice, and then decided not to while vowing to kill an Awakened Being?

Even the man in black paused suddenly, shot glass stopping in the air mid-way to his mouth. Then, he slowly set down his latest drink and asked, "Let me get this straight: you want to kill a creature the likes of which even most Claymores dare not fight alone, but also you plan to do it while staying as a human. Do you think that's even possible, girl?"

Clare genuinely smiled a little as she said, "I know it is, mister. If you can kill those two Yoma in less than a minute with your bare hands, and without breaking a sweat, then I'm pretty sure I can kill a Voracious Eater, if you'll teach me how to fight. And after I kill Priscilla and avenge Teresa, I'll probably hunt down more of those Yoma and Voracious freaks, so that other people don't have to go through what I am right now."

At this new revelation, two of the three Claymores had fainted outright from disbelief, while their leader, (who happened to be in the single-digits, and thus wasn't affected as badly) simply shook her head in doubt, muttering 'you don't know if that guy's human, though…'

The stranger, who was by this point beginning to become less and less of one, asked, "Okay then, it looks like you've got a plan in case of success, but you still haven't answered a crucial question: what's in it for me?"

Clare, who believed she was beginning to figure out how her prospective teacher's mind worked, replied with a straight face: "I think you're going to help me, mister. Because if I succeed, then the whole world will know that it was with help from your skills and your tutoring that I was able to kill the world's most powerful monster in history."

Draining his glass once more, the man in black took his first real look at Clare. She was probably eight or nine, though he couldn't be sure, with bright green eyes and soft brown hair. But it wasn't just her physical features that drew his attention; he saw a bonfire in her eyes, an undying flame of determination and passion that couldn't ever be extinguished.

The Yoma-killing wanderer turned away from Clare and towards the wall, and after another few minutes, he said, "Another round, barkeep."

Feeling dejected, Clare was about to turn around and start looking again, when he continued: "And get the kid a drink too, while you're at it. Non-alcoholic. If I'm going to be teaching her anything, then I'm not going to let her start killing off brain cells."

Clare nearly started crying in happiness: finally, someone was going to teach her how to fight monsters that were much stronger than she was. At last, she was finally on the road to avenging Teresa!

Smirking a little at the young girl's tears, though, he drank another few shots before adding, "Having said that, though, understand now that my methods are harsh, and I'll sometimes have you working on five or more different things at the same time. On at least one occasion, you'll probably think of how happy you'll be to attend my funeral. I haven't taken many people under my wing, kid. This is your last chance to back out: do you have what it takes to learn what I can teach?"

Clare blinked away her tears, and thought long and hard for a few moments about the question. She wasn't necessarily certain what he thought it took, but while on the run with Teresa, she'd once heard an old man mention that "grit counts more than steel."

And so, summoning all of her courage and determination, she stared into her new teacher's cobalt eyes and nodded.

The man was silent for a few seconds, before he began looking into his glass and said, "That look in your eyes… you'll do well."

Now then, even though I'll be writing the next chapter, I can't publish it – or at least with his name, until at least one of you loyal reviewers can correctly guess his identity and origin. Not to be completely unfair, though, I'll give you some hints.

1) He's from a category that for which I've written one chapter, but it hasn't gotten any reviews yet (since I checked a few minutes ago).

2) He's neither the central protagonist nor the main villain, although he is an antagonist for a short story arc.

3) His appearance in this fanfic and his appearance in his home universe are NOT exactly the same (although similar), so don't fall into that trap.

4) He fights with a sword.

5) The first letter of his last name is the same as the second letter of his first name.

6) While he's going to seem very OOC when you first think about it, I think that this version is one of the plausible outcomes in his home universe, given a couple of years or so.