They stood on a string tree branch, one hand on the trunk supporting them as they stared into the distance. Well, you couldn't really say "they" anymore. "They" was actually one person.

She was a fusion of the Malachite Twins. The girls had become one and named their shared body Miltianie. At first it had been hard on the both of them, as two people controlling one body was serious work, but eventually they got used to it.

Miltianie had the same mint green eyes, straight black hair and face as the Twins separately, but there were a few differences. She wore her hair in a bun with two locks framing her face, a red and white dress similarly styled to Miltiades's, black gloves, and boots striped in white and red.

Melanie, do you think this is why we kept going back there?

Yeah, maybe one was all they could handle.

The Twins had been in foster homes for as long as they could remember. Every couple or family that had applied for them had had the same thought: twins weren't difficult to raise or take care of. Every experience had been the same for them.

First, the twins would arrive at their doorstep. The parents would be shocked at how identical they were. This had always happened. For the first ten or so houses, the Malachites would try to make things easy on the family: they were polite, smiled often and didn't cause much trouble. That seemed to freak them out, so they stopped acting like princesses and more like the children they had been. They were known as the Twin Devils after that. Every time they were sent back, it had been because they simply couldn't handle having twins.

Well, there was the Xiong family, Mel.

I know that. They were the only ones who could handle twins.

The Xiong family was Ruka, Kyoko and Hei: two mores and their son. Hei, nicknamed Junior, was 7 years older than Melanie and Miltia, meaning he was sixteen when the girls first arrived. They had gotten along well enough and his mothers adored them, commenting on how pretty they were and dismissing their mischievousness. Ruka and Kyoko had treated the Malachite Twins like their own daughters and not parenting experiments like a handful of couples had. The Xiongs had helped them for years and when Junior opened his club, they eagerly became his bodyguards although they were underage, being 14 at the time. They still remembered how they selected their weapons for the job.

"How about these?" Miltia had held up her fist with knives between her fingers. "They look effective!"

"Yeah, sure, whatever. Bladed high-heels are way better." Melanie had smirked. "I have strong legs, too."

"What are you going on about?" Ruka had asked, poking her head in the kitchen.

"We need to protect Junior at his club!" They had exclaimed in unison.

The twins were glad they'd decided to become his bodyguards, although one of their biggest regrets stemmed from it.

Damn that blonde girl.

We never got back at her, either.

She had trashed the club Junior had worked so hard to open. She'd waltzed in like she owned the place, got past all the security, and blew up their second home. What baffled them the most was when she sauntered away like it didn't matter.

They'd heard she'd gone to Beacon to become a Huntress. What self-respecting Huntress would destroy a building with innocents and leave the injured to get help for themselves? Sure, they'd run away as soon as the fight had started, but there had been a few that didn't make it, hiding in corners and killed from the blasts. Didn't Beacon know of the incident and as a result were supposed to reject her? That was clearly criminal activity, after all.

Melanie and Miltia wanted desperately to get back at her, to make her feel the pain they and Junior had felt. They never had the chance to do it without too many people around.

They blamed themselves for what happened because they didn't protect Junior or the club or the people in it. That was their biggest regret. They'd been forgiven, but they didn't forgive themselves.

Miltianie tilted her head up, staring solemnly at the starry sky, frowning. She clenched her fist against the tree.

They weren't there to protect him anymore.