TW: graphic depiction of violence

Possible spoilers if you aren't caught up in the manga!

A/N (06/29/2019): Hi, all! This is a revised version of my story that I posted over a year ago. I hope you enjoy it :)


"When they take me down the corridor
They secure my wrist with ties
I'll be tracing the outline
Of your body next to mine
I've done terrible things
Cold and careless lies
You can watch behind the glass as I
Pass through serpentine

Please don't remember me
Please don't remember me
Please don't remember me for my crimes"

- Marissa Nadler, 'For My Crimes'


Two figures overlooked the district of Hosu from the roof of a warehouse. The sun had barely set, and Japan's underworld was slowly coming to life. The two Hero Killers siblings stood in comfortable silence; only the gentle wind and their matching scarfs disturbed the quiet.

"Chizue... do you like the view of the city?" Akaguro Chizome, the eldest Hero Killer, asked in a casual tone. He looked over his shoulder but remained where he crouched on the ledge. The Lady Killer didn't falter. Instead, she met his intense gaze head-on.

Lady Killer, her most popular nickname the news outlet called her. But she was a hero killer, the same as himself. Hero Killer: Tarnish, the younger sister of Stain. The most deadly villain-siblings in Japan.

"It will be," she paused to think of an acceptable answer he would take, "exceptionally nice once we discard the trash that can't be recycled, Chizome."

Coldness laced her otherwise smooth and gentle voice. Chizome stood abruptly, chuckling at her response as he cracked his neck and rolled his shoulders.

"Eager, I see. Come on then. Let's have some fun." Even with his distinct hunch, he was still taller than his little sister of only 6 '00". Without hesitation or another word, he leapt off the tall building.

Chizue watched from above as he disappeared into the dark alleys, just as eager to get the night started. She ran a delicate hand through her mess of long black hair. She felt a rush of energy course through her lithe body.

'Are you that excited?'

A woman's voice sprung from the back of her mind. This was a regular occurrence, the voice teasing and toying with her sweetly. Chizue held back her eye roll and a sigh. Ever since she abandoned her vigilante persona as Nouvelle Vie and took up the name Tarnish, this voice has plagued her mind. It was her own subconscious, wasn't it? It didn't matter, she supposed since she accepted the nuisance like a friend long ago. A scintillating, sarcastic old friend that would never leave her.

"Perhaps," she answered back in a small voice, the volume hardly loud enough to pass as a whisper.

'Better watch it! Or you'll end up like your psychopath brother.'

The Lady Killer bit back her anger; it wasn't normal for the voice to be so snappy and judgemental.

'It's not normal to talk to yourself as much as you do, either,' the voice sassed playfully.

"Maybe I am going crazy," Chizue sighed irritably, walking up to the ledge.

'I wouldn't be surprised. You're already halfway there!' But Chizue decided to ignore the voice for now.

The Lady Killer took a deep breath, letting the chill of the air filled her lungs, and the push the fog back from her mind. She slipped on her signature half-face mask with care - her muzzle that not only anonymized her with far more efficiency than the bandages that decorated Chizome's disfigured face, but dehumanized her as well.

Aside from her mask, she wore a reinforced combat outfit similar to her brother; not styled for personal comfort or convenience, but one designed for efficiency. They even had matching scarves and headbands, the crimson shade no longer vibrant like when she first wore it. It kept her long wild hair from getting in her face and obscuring her vision.

"Nobody fears the height; you all just fear the fall. Go to the edge sometimes and prove your body wrong." She could hear a younger boy's voice repeat the words in her head as the words left her mouth, her racing heart calming down immediately.

Two unadorned gauntlets hung off her belt, one on each side of her hip and ready for use. She flexed her fingers, calling on her limbs to be agile and flexible before she began her night. In a flash, she slid her hands the openings and snapped them off her body. The scraping of razor-sharp metal clinked together as she got used to their weight, closing her fists and opening them again.

"You land, but you crash standing." She closed her eyes and stepped off the ledge.


"Sell me the girl."

Those were the words that triggered the usually calm and collected woman into a raging killing machine.

Chizue tried to regulate her breathing by taking in deep breaths of the old still air. Adrenaline was still running through her system, and the sweet metallic scent of blood around her did nothing to soothe her senses.

She looked to each of the eight dead bodies that lay strewn across the warehouse floor. Different degrees of injuries, each laying in a pool of their still-warm blood. Chizue could feel the pull to the liquid, practically tasting it on her lips but she refrained from ingesting any. No, these gangsters weren't worth the effort of her quirk.

Whimpers and light sobs finally reached her ears now that she was coming down from the high. Chizue glanced found a couple of small cages that housed two girls in filthy hospital-like gowns. Their hair was matted and stank to high heaven. It's like they haven't showered in weeks. They were pretty, she noted, despite the filth and puffy red eyes. They clung to each other as much as they could through the bars.

Chizue had intruded in the middle of what she thought was a drug deal.

No, these pieces of shit were trafficking humans.

'Little girls,' the voice hissed. 'For their bodies. Their quirks. To be pretty little servants. Who knows what use they could serve! And you let one bastard get away. A fucking piece of Yakuza scum.'

A strangled noise escaped one of the supposedly dead men as he tried to crawl away from the Lady Killer. He managed to get a few feet away until a knife was lodged deep into his back. He collapsed with a painful scream.

A metal click cut through his cries. The man looked over his shoulder and caught a glimpse of the shiny metal that the crazed lady killer was known for, letting out a pathetic yell as he turned over. She was stalking slowly towards him with a hook in hand.

"Is that a fucking butcher's hook!?"

"Shut your damn mouth already," a deep and booming voice commanded. Chizome emerged from the shadows, bringing along a surreal and menacing aura only the siblings could give. He walked up behind his sister, who started swinging her hook in lame circles.

"I didn't think we'd run into each other until later," she complained in a hushed tone. She didn't spare her brother a glance. Instead, she held her focus on the injured gangster in front of her.

'I was hoping, at least.'

"I only did a little scooping, baby sister. It looks like you had some fun, though," he mused loudly. A single glance at the bloodshed told him enough. "But get this over and done with so we can leave," he spat, clearly irritated as he crossed his arms.

The gangster cried out, visibly shaking, which made Chizue sigh in annoyance. She glanced at the area, and her trained eyes noticed a low metal beam right above him.

In an instant, she launched herself from her standing point, and the gangster yelped in fear. He slammed his eyes shut and tensed his body. He thought he was dead until he realized that the killer slide on the floor, just a little past himself. Relief flooded his mind until he opened his eyes. The gangster felt a deep, sharp pain out of nowhere. He looked down to see the hook going clear through his shoulder, like a fish in a pond. The two caged girls cried out in horror.

She yanked on the chain for good measure, and the man let out a painful howl with each tug. Satisfied with her catch, she leapt up high into the air, propelling herself backward right over the beam. When Chizue landed back on the ground, she began to pull on the chain until the heavy gangster dangled just a few feet off the ground.

"Brother?" The question was asked with child-like innocence, by a woman who could kill someone a dozen ways and make it look like an accident.

He practically swaggered over to her with a prideful grin, stealing the chain from her hand. He watched as she took her mask off, meaning only one thing: she was royally pissed off. He licked his lips with his long tongue, tasting the blood already.

The furious noirette bounded to the hanged man. "Tell me who that man was, the one with the plague mask," she demanded.

"I'm not telling you anything, bitch," the gangster spat out. Impressive, considering the amount of pain he should be in.

Chizue cocked her head. 'The nerve of this guy,' her mind hissed. In a quick feat, she dashed forward and slashed his gut open. And he screamed, screamed so loud as blood, and fatty meat began seeping out the wound.

With his free, unharmed hand he tried covering the open gash and holding it close so he wouldn't lose anything else. As he whimpered, a tightness formed in his chest. With excruciating effort, he then moved his injured arm to grab at his chest. It felt like something was constricting his core, his left arm and jaw going numb almost immediately. Was he having a heart attack, out of nowhere? A thick layer of sweat covered his entire body, and his breath was becoming shallow. The gangster couldn't focus on anything, his mind in a daze from the onslaught of events. That was until a hand grabbed onto his pierced shoulder and shook him.

"A name. Now!" she countered, the edge in her voice much clearer, "or this will get much, much worse." She had activated her quirk and had started to slowly stop the blood flow to his heart. The more she concentrated, the more the sclera of her eyes became crimson red.

"Wh-.. what the hell kind of q-quirk is t-that?" **The gangster slurred out. He noticed it: noirette had blood on her lips. "What kind of monster a-are you?"

"Her quirk is called Puppet Master. You should consider it an honor to witness it, let alone be killed by it," Chizome boasted with twisted pride. He named her quirk personally when they discovered what exactly she could do at the age of 8. A late bloomer, he used to tease but was so proud of her abilities. Chizue was such an accomplished killer, such a compelling villain. She flourished under his training and brought a wicked smile to his face.

Chizue let the hold on his heart go and allowed the blood to flow normally again. As she did, the furious noirette took grabbed the gangster by the collar of his shirt and plunged a metal claw deep into his belly wound, twisting her wrist. She wanted a name, and she wanted it now. Before his body ultimately succumbs to his injuries.

"Give. Me. A. Name." A snarl was now on her lips and showed off her teeth, still coated in blood.

"Ahh, fuck! I-I don't know his name! He's with EPD, but I don't know his name!" He was desperate now, fat tears following down his cheeks, mucus down his lips.

"What the hell is EPD, and why would they want these girls?!" she countered, the edge in her voice much more apparent.

"I'm not sure.. he wanted them for their quirks, I think. But that's all I know, I swear! Now please, let me go!" he begged pitifully. The man's body shook so severely that the chain was visibly shaking with him. He only had so much time left before he died from shock.

There was a slight pause before she asked in a hollow voice, "and why would I do that?"

"Do it, Chizue. Make him a victim," Chizome's voice dripped out. His broad smile split his face like a crazed hyena, licking his lips as he did so.

"You two are fucking evil bastards," the gangster cried out. "You won't get away with this!"

"No one has caught us before," Chizue said in a harsh whisper. "No one misses yesterday's trash anyway."

"We'll kill y-"

Before he could finish his threat, Chizue swiped in an upwards motion, her razor-sharp fingers slicing into his neck and face. Her sudden attack caused blood to sputter out like a small waterfall, showering her in a vibrant red. A gut-wrenching gurgle came from the gangster as he tried covering the deep wounds with his meaty hands. Chizue watched unfazed as the gangster became weaker with blood loss; his arms finally fell to his side as he stilled in death.

She couldn't ignore the copper smell anymore and glance down at her wet, sticky outfit. The black fabric now clung to her body. Even her mask became unbearable to wear as it was also soaked in blood. She yanked it off, and violently shook off any excess blood - there was no way she would go anywhere without it on.

Chizome's hysterical laughter filled the empty warehouse as he let go of the chain, allowing the fresh corpse to fall to the ground with a hollow thud. It echoed around her, almost like a taunt. Though she didn't meet his gaze, he saw the small pout that played on her delicate features.

"Oh look, you do have emotions."

Chizue pointedly ignored his teasing and headed towards the girls in the cages. They were visibly shaking but still held their heads high as she made her way. She knelt in front of the cage door and grabbed a couple of lockpicks from one of her pockets.

'Too easy,' the voice said as she opened the first lock.

Chizue shuffled over to the other cage, and as she picked the second lock, she asked in a gentle voice: "Do you know the name of the organization that kidnapped you?"

Another small click and the second lock was off.

"I-I don't know. But I heard them mention a man called Chiro Nox-"

"-I think I heard it from over here!"

Chizue snapped her head in the direction of the voice, then to her brother. A scowl settled on his face and he nodded over to a window.

She looked back at the girls and smiled sadly. She wasn't going to solve this mystery overnight, and this intrusion just made it that much harder. Chizue stood and walked away without another word. She slipped her mask back on and grabbed the chain to her hook, violently yanking it out of the dead body.

Chizome shattered the glass and waited on his sister to slip out first. The hero killers slipped away from justice yet again, leaving only a bloody trail of dead bodies in their wake.


"You let them go."

Chizue steadied her gaze on the rising sun. A statement, not a question. "It would have wasted time and energy. Would you have killed them?" she asked indifferently.

"Nah, it would've been unnecessary bloodshed. Those women were innocent. You did well getting rid of those gangsters. The world's better off without 'em," Chizome answered back matter-of-factly.

But they were interrupted. A swirling noise alerted them of a possible tracker, so they readied themselves. The siblings mirrored each other's movements - they grabbed their sword off their back and expertly swung it behind them, blind.

The amorphous silhouette of a tall man in a suit to appear out of thin air, caught by mild surprise at being held by sword-point immediately after manifesting. He wore a primed whited button-up shirt, an intricate vest, slacks, and dress shoes to match. The thing that stood out was the metal brace he wore around his neck.

If it weren't for the outfit, Chizue wouldn't have been able to see an outline of his body out of her peripheral. It gave off a black smog that covered his head, hands, any part that exposed skin would have shown. Then there were his piercing yellow eyes.

"Good morning. Allow me to introduce myself. I am Kurogiri. My sensei has requested both of your presence," the Black Mist said. He was articulate with his smooth, deep voice.

"You know, I don't give a shit who you are or what your 'sensei' wants. What I want to know is how the hell you found us," Chizome spat out like venom, making sharp, jagged movements as he faced the intruder.

"My sensei is.. very good at tracking down who he wants to find," Kurogiri simply replied, with a wave of his hand.

"Clearly. Not even the police of Pro Heroes can track us, her brother mumbled back.

'If his 'sensei' is as good as he seems at tracking, then we are in trouble. We haven't been in Hosu for a full night... and this guy - he must have a teleportation or speed quirk if he was able to catch us off guard. If they're here to hunt us, there is no way we could outrun them.' Chizue's mind ran frantically. But her sword remained poised at the Black Mist's throat.

"An invitation, huh? From someone who was able to find my sister and me in an entertainment district that we haven't even been in for more than 8 hours. Do we even have a choice at this point?" Chizome sneered, plainly irritated.

"You misunderstand. This is purely an invitation... but I feel that this is an opportunity that will greatly interest you. We are working on a project that has similar goals to your own. The choice is yours," the Black Mist said eloquently, gesturing that all the cards were on the table.

Underneath her face mask, Chizue frowned deeply. But her wild hair hid the twitch of annoyance in her eyebrow. She never took her eyes off the Black Mist, and she knew he was stared right back at her. She couldn't put her finger on it, but his eyes expressed curiosity more than anything.

Chizome was either unaware of the staredown or simply didn't care. He took a moment before answering the man again." I suppose you piqued my interest. Give me a week to think about it,"

She swore under her breath.


Before the siblings made their way back to the sleazy hole-in-the-wall hotel they currently stayed at, Chizome led them to the outskirts of the district. To an abandoned office building.

Chizue stared at the ground as she followed him down dusty corridors and up rusted staircases. It was quiet; no sounds came from crickets or other nighttime animals. Just the wind slipping in through broken windows, and their light-footed march.

Chizome stopped at a closed door and waited for Chizue to pick lock it. He growled with frustration at her futile attempt to gain entry, and Chizue quickly shuffled away. He planted one foot on the ground, grasped the door frame, and thrust his heel in a powerful front kick. The door broke into pieces as it flew off its hinges, and dust puffed out from the frame which started to separate from the wall.

"Look at all this fucking room goin' to waste. It's a damn shame." Chizome yelled as he stepped over the broken pieces of door. Chizue mirrored his steps, wincing as he spoke. The concrete walls bounced his voice all around her, and against the quiet, it was deafening.

"They consider this a bad part of town," she answered back in a more hushed voice. It must have been the wrong answer, though. Chizome flung around wildly and launched a knife in her direction.

Chizue had barely managed to dodge the attack, sidestepping just in time. She watched as the knife flew past her. With a hollow thud, the knife was embedded into the wall to the hilt.

She didn't have much time to counter when she turned back to face her brother. He had crossed the room within a second. Chizome had drawn his worn katana and aimed a slanting cut at her throat. Chizue had her quick reflexes to thank for keeping her head on her shoulders, and the person responsible for making her steady gauntlets that caught the sword before it made contact with her skin.

"Are you mad?" she hissed, straining under his strength.

"I remember Mom used to worry to her friends that it was something she did to get such serious kids." Chizome pulled his blade down and away, scraping the sharp metal against her claws. Her brows knitted together at the comment, but she didn't question him any further. She knew better than to question anything he said or did.

"Before you came along, I was a lone cub. I fell in love with language, and I tried to tell the grown-ups about the storm clouds, the weather in my head. I guess I hadn't heard the word for melancholy yet." Chizome jumped back and landed in a crouch, resting an arm on his knee. He began to toss his katana up in the air, his eyes following the movement of the blades with mild interest. Each toss went higher and higher until it reached a few feet in the air.

"Then you came in 8 years behind. We thought you couldn't talk, but it turned out you were just shy. Mom said it was serious, dad said you'd be fine," Chizome continued. There was a softness in his voice that only the power of reminiscence could achieve. It made her chest feel fuzzy,

When Chizome's katana finally reached high enough to nearly touch the ceiling, he moved so fast she could hardly see him grab one of the knives from his side holder.

'Typical!' the voice laughed hysterically.

Chizue's body flew into a backward bend. She used her hands to catch and balance herself off the floor. Time seemed to move slowly as she watched the second knife fly above her. She drew her legs into her chest, creating enough force to push herself off the ground with her hands; a perfect kip-up. When she landed on her feet, quick as a cricket, she charged at Chizome with her sword drawn. Their swords clashed in a mighty shing! Chziue managed to knock back her brother a few feet.

"You were so tender; we thought something was wrong with you. So patient, we thought that you were deaf. You were so solemn, so tiny, but so ancient. Ma took you to see doctors; you scared her half to death." Chizome smiled at the thought while he struck again, beating his sword against hers. That was always a tactic he used since her gauntlets didn't allow her to firmly grasp the hilt like she should. He was all about taking advantage of a situation, especially when fighting.

'Chizome is clever. He knows all my best moves. But I know his,' Chizue told herself before launching at him again.

The siblings were in full out battle with each other. Seconds seemed like hours as they danced around each other, dealing blows as fast as they could. It appeared they were evenly matched until Chizue fumbled an attack due to exhaustion.

Chizome caught the fumble immediately and took advantage of her fatigue by knocking a sword out of her grip with a sweeping kick. Both hero killers lunged forward in the moment after. Chizue managed to graze his cheek deep enough to bleed, while Chizome nicked her side with a sword. It was a battle of speed as they both went in for the blood.

And then both siblings forcefully fell to the floor with ill grace and loud grunts.

Bloodcurdle had the shortest time frame with Type O, and Puppet Master with Type B. So the siblings were bound to the floor right next to each other for the next minute.

The pair stared at each other in amusement. Chizue's frown soon became a soft smile. A giggle escaped her lips, and it quickly transformed into full-on laughter. Chizome couldn't even contain his smirk. It had been a long time since they had fun like that, and the world hadn't heard her laugh in quite some time.

But he finished his thought, cutting her joy short.

"When the car crashed, and I waited for the heroes to come... I prayed over your body. I asked God to take the damage out on me. Ten years later and he still hasn't gotten that memo. But you came to and took my hand, and held my eyes. And me and you... we had a long walk home and decided not to cry."

"When we were young, and I slept in your bed... if I kept quiet I could hear all the voices in your head," Chizue admitted in a small voice. Her separation anxiety, on top of the grief the shared, brought the siblings closer than ever. For better, or for worse.

"I don't pretend I don't remember how unusual we were," he told her. It was them against the world. Japan's last hope for the revival of true heroes laid in their hands, and they had to do whatever it took to ensure it became a reality. Even if it killed them.

"The little mystic and their handler," he said in a sing-song voice. He groaned as he forced his body to move, rolling on to his side. When Chizue caught his gaze, she saw a fire burning behind those matching silver pupils.

"We have too much to do and not enough time. Nobody deserves to endure what we were forced to. Now get up. I won't let someone get the jump on us again," he instructed with finality, the edge clear in his voice.

"What will we do about the Black Mist, and his sensei?"

"We either destroy them from the inside out or attack them at the first meeting. Either way, we attack."


A/N: If any of you are fans of Dessa.. know that her works have heavily inspired Tarnish, and her relationship with Stain. I used her lyrics from Children's Work to flesh out their relationship and past.

In this story, I will reference a lot of songs and shows and movies with quotes and all. Little Easter eggs, if you will, that really show what I'm into.

So, I hope you guys enjoyed what you read so far. I know my writing style is... different, but I hope it doesn't pit you off either. This is going to be an interesting journey for our girl here.

Thanks for reading, yall! xoxo