Hidden away in the halls of a once proud manor, a young girl sobbed.

She didn't know why. She loved traditional dancing. She was going to be trained by the best of the best. She'd finally get away from the dirtbags and losers and weaklings who made her life hell.

So... Why was she crying so hard? Why did her gut feel like it was tearing open, spilling a horrible emptiness across her chest? Why did her lungs heave and choke and and hiccup as she curled tightly into herself, trying to find a position that hurt just a little less?

However bad it hurt, she kept her crying quiet. Grandma hated listening to crying.

One of her hands shot out, caving to a deep... need inside, reaching for the servant's call button over on the other side of the room. The tiny tween looked at her hand, confused for a moment. Then it became clear.

She was hungry. Some candy would make her feel better.

Lithe but strong legs gathered shakily beneath her, like a toddler trying to gather the courage to stand for the first. The air itself seemed heavier, and the ancient wooden walls creaked and groaned in the pale moonlight. Shadows danced outdoors, and far away, an owl hooted.

With a start, she fell back down to her futon, overcome by the urge to get under the covers, to hide, to get away from the monsters that were coming to get her. Her teeth and arms shivered hard, and for a moment she almost called out for her daddy, like a child.

Almost.

Hiyoko Saionji had just turned 13. She was a big girl now. She didn't need to go running to her parents anymore.

With the newfound strength blooming inside, the youngest of the Saionji family found the strength to stand again and step onto the icy wooden slats that made up her ancestral home.

She made it all the way to the door of her bedroom before she stopped.

No. He wouldn't wouldn't like being woken up so late. Not that Hiyoko cared about what the servant thought, but if she didn't have a good reason for waking him up, he'd complain to Grandma.

Grandma wouldn't be happy. She couldn't make Grandma upset.

Defeated, Hiyoko turned to go back to her cold, empty futon. But... she couldn't.

Her arms wrapped around her in a futile attempt to keep warm, but it didn't help. Something deep inside of her refused to go back. It rattled and groaned and ached and needed.

Whatever was clawing it's way through her chest made her want to scream!

What was she supposed to do?!

Defeated and empty, she slid down to the floor, gazing up at a celing that seemed to be a million miles away.

Her mind drifted to the future, of the grand glorious life planned out for her. Of the empty, lonely stage, with the scorching lights shining down, bathing her in a harsh, bright, inescapable fame. Below her, thousands watched with cold, silent, dissecting eyes.

One wrong move and she was finished.

One wrong move and they would tear her apart.

In her minds eye, she fell. A thousand hands reached up. Tearing her dress, ripping her hair, digging into her arms. She screamed for help, but Grandma Ayuka watched, impassive. She watched her granddaughter be torn to shreds. She never even blinked.

Then, the bedroom door burst open. An authoritive shout echoed throughout the room.

"Hiyoko! What's wrong?!"

Hiyoko fell forward, a startled cry escaping her lips.

"Daddy!"

Her shout was high pitched, but not alarmed. Not anymore.

Big strong arms reached down and pulled her back up, bringing Hiyoko eye to eye with a man twice her size. He was crouched down to be at her level, big chocolate eyes glowing with concern.

"Baby, I heard you scream. What's wrong?! Are you hurt? Did someone scare you? Did you have a nightmare?"

"I'm... I don't know... I..."

Hiyoko finally let herself cry, huge shuddering gasps wracking her frame as she let the pain inside out. In a heartbeat, her father had gathered her up and tucked into his chest, a big warm sponge to take her pain away. He gently massaged her back, a solid support that held her safe as he whispered sweet nothings in her ear.

Neither knew how long they stayed like that, but eventually, the sobs subsided. The daughter found herself nuzzling into her father, like he was a thousand soft teddy bears. He said nothing more for a time, simply wrapping himself around her, a little cocoon of love and protection.

Hiyoko would burn any photos of this moment if they existed for fear of someone seeing them, but she also wished she could stay there forever.

Eventually though, it had to end, and her father broke the comfortable silence between them.

"Is it because of tomorrow?"

The young dancer flinched as if he had struck her.

He hesitated.

"You... you know, it's not going to be so bad..."

"But it is!"

Hiyoko cried out, throwing her hands out.

"Grandma's taking me away! We'll never see each other again! She hates you!"

He let out a dark chuckle.

"Well, no arguments there. Me and the old coot have been at each other's throat since I first met your mother. I wouldn't be surprised if she never wanted to see me again."

A warm hand covered her mouth, soothing the bubbling panic.

"Doesn't mean I never get to see you again though."

Hiyoko looked up at him with her head tilted to the side. An unasked question plain on her face. Hardly daring to hope.

"Grandma can't pick who goes to your performances. She can't dictate who gets to get into the front row, up close where they can see the dancers eye to eye. And I swear, no matter what it takes, I will be at every one of your performances!"

Hiyoko's eyes fell, her expression as downcast as the dying blossom tree out back.

"But... that's not enough. We won't get to stay up late watching horror films... Or build a sand castle for my birthday!... Or!...

Hiyoko was cut off. The arms wrapping around her squeezed the very breath from her lungs.

"I know... God baby, I know..." his voice was choked, as if he could barely force words from his throat.

Hiyoko chanced a look up. Her father's eyes were locked on a picture of her on the nightstand, face scrunched up in vain attempt to keep the wetness of his eyes inside. His chin was clenched hard, and see could see his straining tendons as he tried not to cry.

The tiny dancer wriggled out one of her arms out and wrapped it around his. She held on like they were dangling off the edge of Mt. Fuji, one slip from falling into an infinite black abyss. He held on just as tightly.

Another silence passed, with the two sharing their strength as best they could.

Her father tentatively broke the silence again.

"...would you prefer that I never tried to see you at all?"

"NO! Nonononono! I need you daddy!"

This time Hiyoko cried with the distress of a baby bird watching her parents leave. Never to return.

"I need you too sweetie... But..."

His voice trailed off. Something he wanted, something he needed to say. But whatever it was, died in his throat.

Hiyoko sniffed. Her chest was getting all tight again.

"Why?...Why does Grandma have to take me away?..."

Izo Saionji, father of the future Ultimate Traditional Dancer, looked down at his daughter in agony.

He knew the dancer's lifestyle was taking an enormous toll on her. He knew that she might break and shatter under the enormous weight of her fame and the family history. He knew she was alone. Without a friend in the world, aside from him, to help her.

Something deep inside urged him. Take her. Take her and run away be done with this whole horrific lifestyle.

He knew he could do it. He'd done it before. Living on the lamb was something that would not trouble him. He could teach Hiyoko.

She was such a smart girl. Bright and quick and strong. She could do it. Live with him in another life, under another name. Build something else for themselves.

But... was that really best for her?

Hiyoko loved all things Japanese. She wanted to protect, to preserve, to grow the Traditional Dancing she loved so much. That was why she struggled through all of Ayuka's training. The stares of the boys in the audience who only cared about her body. The endless training that prevented her from ever making any real friends.

Hiyoko was so strong...

She could remake herself to live in safety and ease with him...

Or she could struggle to become the best in the field that demanded much, but she loved.

...

With a heavy heart, Izo made his decision.

"Because it's what it will take to become the Ultimate Traditional Dancer."

Hiyoko was so surprised she stopped crying. In all of her years, she'd never even considered the possibility of getting into Hope's Peak High School. It just seemed...So impossible. For others. The elite. Not her.

"What?"

He looked at her with an unreadable expression, then it cleared into a knowing smile.

"You haven't seen him? The man in the fedora? He's been watching your performances. He's a scout for the best school in the entire world."

Hiyoko looked down, remembering... Yes. There had been a man there. A man with a funny little notebook, that had the insignia of the famous school.

"You?... You really think I can get in?..."

His smile grew brighter.

"Of course! You're the best dancer around by far! Even grandma Ayuka will soon be out of things to teach you!"

A small smile grew on Hiyoko's face. She did love the looks of jealous the other dancers shot her, even if they tried to poison her later.

"Hope's Peak..."

Plans were already forming. Those who graduated from Hope's Peak were set for life. Everyone knew that, even the lowest dumb plebeian.

If she could graduate... she could take daddy with her. Get away from Grandma forever. Live happily with him and an army of servantsto see to her every need.

She looked up, smiling for the first time that night.

"That's right! I'm the best! I'm gonna get into Hope's Peak and rule Japan!"

Izo chuckled. Not quite the reaction he was hoping for, but it would have to do.

"That's right. What did I tell you? It won't be for forever."

He squeezed her one last time, the last hug they would share for a very long time.

"Even if I'm not physically there, I'll always be with you Hiyoko."

She finally allowed herself to believe him. Hope blossomed in her heart. She could do this.

Years later, Hiyoko would watch the video of Junko Enoshima torturing her father to death over and over again.

Each time sent her into a squealing mad laughter of Despair.

It never failed.