Warning: This chapter has scenes and mentioning of domestic violence and other trauma-related topics; reader discretion advised.

21

April fourth.

"Happy Birthday to me,"

Twelve years since that fateful night.

"Happy Biiiirthday to me,"

Eight since that fateful day.

"Happy Biiiiirthday dear Hyoushu,"

And only two since she knew for a fact that she was living in Hell.

"Happy Birthday to youuuuu!"

And she knew that she was the Devil.

"She's so small mommy, how am I going to play with her?"

A warm chuckle floated down to the long black curls and big grey eyes peering over the edge of the cradle. The child felt a gentle touch as her mother softly pet her head, watching the untamable frizz of her hair bounce back through the woman's fingertips.

"She'll grow fast, baby. You won't have to wait for long. Just be careful with her and love her and everything will work out."

"How do you know? What if she doesn't like me?"

"Well it worked with you." Those giant, bright eyes turned upwards with a gleaming smile. The kind mother kissed her daughter's forehead as though she was made of glass.

Akane looked back down at her baby sister, and copying the older woman, gently stroked the baby's forehead. "So soft…" she whispered. "She's so pretty, mommy. Was I that pretty when I was this little?"

The woman had to hold back a small laugh at the memory of the first moments with her first-born. "Oh, no, you were a funny looking little one." The child's faced scrunched up and frowned a little.

"That's mean, mama."

"Well you were! You had no hair until you were a little over 2 years old, and your face was so perfectly round, you looked like this," she puffed out her cheeks. Akane poked one and the woman immediately tickled her. After a blissful moment of laughter she quieted a little. "And you were so much smaller… so so tiny. They said you weren't going to make it past that first night. It was the scariest moment of my life. We thought we were going to lose you."

The girl placed her small hands on either side of her mother's face and looked very seriously into her eyes, "It's ok, mommy. I'm ok so there's no reason to be afraid."

A warm smile graced her lips and love filled her mom's eyes. Tucking a curl behind her daughter's ear, she replied, "No, there was no reason to be afraid. You've always been tough, little one. You've always been a fighter. And if anyone ever underestimates you it'll be their mistake, got it? You can do anything and get through whatever the world throws at you. My beautiful Hyoushu."

An incoherent voice echoed through the hallways of their home, making its way up the stairs and into the nursery. Akane's mother perked up and, with a smile and another kiss to her forehead, floated off to greet the man of the house. Finally home from work. "I'm coming, Yuji! How was work, darling?"

The child remained in the room, watching the baby curiously and gently stroking her head. "I don't remember anything when I was as little as you. But mama says you cry a lot more than me. I cry sometimes too. Sometimes I have nightmares and get scared, or when there was that earthquake last time." She tried to get even closer to the baby, but the bars of the cradle wouldn't allow it. "You don't have to cry though. You don't have to be scared. I'm your big sister, it's my job to always protect you. I won't ever let the bullies or the scary monsters in the dark hurt you. You're little, so you don't have to be brave. I can be brave for you. I promise I'll never let anything hurt you, Iris. I promise." Iris looked at her older sister with the lack of focus characteristic of one so young, but nontheless giggled when the older girl smiled and made a face at her.

The noise of the city had faded a few minutes ago. But she didn't know how long she had been walking, only the path. The path that she traveled year after year. The footsteps that were burned into her mind. The grass on the hill mocked her in its bright, lively happiness. But the slabs of granite were honest. They did not delude her of her destination. They did not sing bright songs nor did they dance in the wind. They only sat there. They were cold. And quiet. And unyielding.

The shadows they cast wavered and blurred as she turned her gaze to them. The stone's owners peered at her from the darkness. Faint silhouettes perched atop the headstones or stood before them, heads turning to follow her path in silence. Not that she would have been able to hear them over the screaming in her head anyway. The voices yelled at the tops of their lungs, drowning each other out to the point where she couldn't make out their words. They were only a deafening hum echoing through her skull.

Her head rang. It was all she noticed when she awoke, and the only thing she could notice for moments after. She was moving. But she couldn't hear anything over the ringing and her head hurt too much to open her eyes. She didn't know where she was. Where she was going. Why her head was so loud and why it felt like someone was digging into her back with a thousand hot blades. She didn't have the energy to scream. Akane could only trust the arms carrying her to her unknown destination.

Finally she was able to open her eyes. But who was holding her? Her sight was blurred and she couldn't focus on anything, but she was certain her father didn't have that tattoo on his neck before. It looked like… like… fire.

The noise in her head suddenly went completely silent, and she could hear the world around her with perfect clarity. And what she heard made her eyes widen in terror and she screamed at the top of her lungs.

The crackle. Snap. Popping of the fire consuming her vacation home. The crash of beams falling within. The sirens wailing in the distance. She watched the flames reach to the sky like the devil's pitchfork looming menacingly over a sea of damned souls.

"Hey, hey kid it's ok, you're safe, I got you out. It's gonna be alright." Her screams turned into incoherent sobs.

"M-mama- where's my mom?!" He didn't answer. He only set her down on some grass a ways away, near a group of neighbors. They watched in awestruck horror as the house crumbled.

"I'm gonna go back and look for her, kid. It's gonna be ok." The man spoke in particularly good English for the area of Japan they were in. He turned to the nearest person standing around. Doing nothing. He said something in a language she didn't fully understand. She recognized burn, and back, and watch. So that's what hurt so bad.

The woman snapped out of her stupor and nodded nervously, glancing at his tattoo and trying not to make eye contact. She shuffled a few steps closer to the child, but said and did nothing. Nothing at all. And for the first time in her short life, the girl was alone. Alone with no one to remind her that she was only a child. And that nightmares would only ever be in her dreams.

As Akane crossed the threshold into the family mausoleum the screaming silenced itself. They didn't want to be the ones to distract her from the pain. From the silence of standing in the only room where she could be with her family.

"Hey guys. It- it's that time of year again. I hope you guys have been doing well, wherever you are. I'm… still alive. So that's something." Her throat began to close up. So many years and she'd still never get used to it, to seeing her mother as a motionless word on a wall. To speaking to a sister she never got the chance to play with. To remembering a father that she saw crumble and change and die before her.

"It's something." She whispered, before speaking up again in the empty room. "I found Yata again. Or more like he found me. I guess I couldn't hide from him forever. I wish he could've met you guys, he would've loved you. I know it. Oh, and I got a job. A real one this time, not like on the streets or with Furutani. I finally left him and I… I'm a singer now. Just like I said I would be. Everything's… finally…" She wasn't able to finish her sentence as sobs overtook her and she fell to her knees before them. Mute judgement was the rhythm to a melody of tears.

A couple minutes passed and she was able to regain some composure. But she didn't stand. She placed a hand to the stone before her, and her forehead lightly rested against it. A soft warmth rested itself upon her hand, but when she looked there was no one there. Akane's head spun around the room, and she was on her feet in an instant, rubbing her hand. It almost… felt like…

"Mom?" Only silence. "Maybe I'm just crazier than I thought." She pulled a knife out of her back pocket. Newly sharpened and shining in the midday sun, light glinted off the blade. "Sorry guys."

She ran her hand over the side edge of the wall, counting ridges in the stone. Then she placed the blade against it and whittled in a tick beside 11 other tallys guarding her sister's name. "I wish we could've sung together, Iris." And then one by her mother, "I wish I could've made you proud, mom."

The girl stepped back and spun the knife in her hands, casting a darker gaze towards her third name of interest on the wall: Yuji Himura. "'Sup pops."

The heart monitor slowly beeped beside her. There was blood everywhere and she felt like a scarlet stain in this purified new world of white. But the blood could never be washed away by the tears leaking down her face. This was a place of plague. Of death. Of inescapable fate and grief and futures that would never be seen. This was a tomb and those within the reapers of souls. She wanted nothing more than to escape. To get out of there with him before they could add his name to their list. His memories to their collection. She had to get out of this hell and never return.

She sat there for hours. Staring at the blood on her hands, the blood that slowly seeped through the sheets and bloomed like a morbid flower upon her father's chest. She did not speak. Not when the nurse came in to check on her. Not when the doctors came to tell her everything would be alright.

They always said that. Why did people always tell her that? If everything really did end up alright they wouldn't be in this stupid room in the first place. They acted like she couldn't tell they were lying. But whenever they said it like that, so desperately trying to convince her, it was never true. No one ever said that if things were really 'alright'.

Her father was going to die today. He should have already. She had seen the life drain from his eyes as she pulled the knife out of his chest. She could have sworn he was dead already as she called the paramedics only an hour earlier. But maybe… maybe she was just glancing into the future.

Her father was going to die today. And she knew he would never forgive her for killing him.

She carved the 8th notch beside his name. "I wish you didn't still scare the shit out of me." She felt his disapproving gaze, "Sorry. Running low on creativity today. And it's not like I lied, calm down." The feeling faded and left a void inside her with a gravity that made her face fall like a rock.

"Dad, no! Please don't! I'm sorry I'm so so sorry I won't do it again!" A loud smack! silenced her words, replaced only with terrified sobs. The hand on her arm was unrelenting and she knew she would find a bruise there later. She didn't dare pull away though.

He dragged her towards a menacing doorway, gated by a heavy black door. She began to hyperventilate but still she did not pull away. "Please, no… Don't take me down there! I don't want to!"

He yanked her before him and pinned her against the door by the neck. He got in her face. "You should've thought about that before you earned it, brat." He released her throat and she coughed heavily. She would have collapsed had he not been holding her up by the arm.

The man dragged her down the stairs, tossing her down the last few steps. She landed harshly on the bare cement, and all she could do was lay there silently. It was all she had the strength to do. To sit there in throbbing pain and a small puddle of tears. She saw fresh blood on the ground, but she didn't know where it came from. "Please," she whispered. But he either didn't hear her or didn't care; there was no response.

He grabbed her arm again, in the same spot so the already forming bruise hurt even more. She yelped, but didn't have the strength to stand. He didn't even look back at her as he dragged her small body, more skeleton than anything, to a wall at the back of the basement. It was lit by only one flickering, yellow lightbulb in the center of the room.

Her father dropped her body at the wall and squatted in front of her. He yanked her head up by her hair and she whimpered pathetically. "You're going to sit here and think about what you did. Why you're here. Why you deserve this. Do you understand?" She nodded weakly, a tear leaking out of her eye. He saw it and rolled his eyes, dropping her so her head smacked against the ground. She saw stars for a moment.

She heard chains rattling and her sobs grew slightly louder as the panic overtook her. "Please… I'll sit here please don't."

"I've already told you, Hyoushu," he said her childhood nickname as a sickening insult. He lifted her head up by the hair again and she felt a trickle of blood run down the side of her face. The iron collar snapped shut around her neck and she cried and shook as she heard the key click the lock shut. There was no escape now. "A wildcat needs a muzzle." When her hair was released, the chain attached to the wall kept her from falling to the floor again and she choked on the metal ring for a moment. He shut the light off when he left.

She was 10 years old when she learned not to play catch with the neighbor's son.

She thought she saw something lunge at her from the shadows and jumped backwards out of the small room with blinding speed. A little too much blinding speed. She stumbled back a couple of steps and landed on her ass, still scrambling back a few feet and never taking her gaze from the shadows. "FUCK OFF!" She startled a nearby old lady, who proceeded to give her an irritated look from under copious amount of wrinkles. "Yeah, same goes to you ya old geezer," Akane mumbled under her breath while picking herself up. "Could I catch a break at least on my fucking birthday?! I mean come on this gravyard's creepy enough as is."

The girl dusted off her pants and took a deep breath to try to slow her heartbeat to a more human rate rather than that of a caffeine addicted hummingbird. When she decided that she was no longer at risk of passing out, she continued on. But not before pausing to look sadly into the darkness of her family's resting place.

"What does that mean, mama?"

"What does what mean, baby?"

"Hyoushu? You call me that all the time but I don't know what it means."

"Ah. That. That's from an old story your father told me when you were first born. I was so worried we would lose you, and he told me the story of Hyoushu and I knew you would be fine."

"What story?"

Her mother chuckled and put Iris back in her crib, taking her other daughter into her arms and curling up with her on her bed. She stroked her hair as she told the tale. "It's an old legend passed down for dozens of generations. Apparently I'm not supposed to know it, but it was all he could think of to reassure me. It goes like this.

"Once, a long time ago, there was a small village in the Highlands of Japan. It was a sacred place, few had ever been as it was far in the mountains and the jungles and only those pure of heart were allowed to stay. They lived in peace for hundreds of years.

"But it did not last forever. Barbarians, violent brutes who wanted only to steal the sacred magic that the village protected, soon appeared. The villagers were a peaceful people, and could do nothing but watch as day after day their homes were burned and their families were taken. The barbarians kept coming back because they could not find the magic. They didn't know it, but it only showed itself to the pure of heart, which none of them were.

"One day the King of the barbarians came to the High Priest of the village, and he said that if he wasn't given the magic by the end of the next day, he would send his soldiers to kill them all and throw their village down the mountain. But the High Priest could not give him the magic. It was not his to give.

"And so the eldest son of the High Priest went to the temple of the Leopard Gods, for they all knew the leopard was the most fearless and the strongest of all the creatures. He pleaded and begged for help, promising his eternal servitude to them if only they would help him save that which he loved. And they answered. They looked into his soul and saw purity. Devotion. They saw he had what it took despite his mortality and the fact that he was the weakest of his brothers. They knew he would keep his promise, and nothing would stop him. Not even death.

"They reached out of the heavens and touched his soul, embedding a small fraction of their spirit into him. He became a demigod with the stealth and strength and beauty of a leopard. Under one condition: for eternity his lineage would be tied to them, to do their bidding and in return they would grant his line their power. Every generation, one child would be chosen by their predecessor as a portal for the Spirit of the Leopard Gods.

"When the barbarians came the next day the High Priest did not greet them. Instead the eldest son stood at the entrance to the village. They laughed and ignored his glowing white aura, unable to be contained by his mortal form. They attacked him without listening to his warning, and they payed dearly.

"No matter how many times they struck him, he struck back, faster and stronger than they could keep up with. The arrows in his back did not slow him, the cuts to his arms and legs, the spears piercing his body did not weaken him nor his resolve. Even the Gods looked down in wonder, for he was still essentially mortal, and no mortal could have withstood such pain. But for every drop of his blood they spilled, he claimed one of their lives. They say that in the spring, when the trees bloomed, you could see which had drunk his blood because their blossoms glowed white, and those drinking from the barbarians bloomed dark and intensely red. They still do, for those who are lucky enough to find the village.

"When he returned he was covered in their blood, and his soul still shining seemed to reflect the deep color of it all. They looked upon him in awe and he was given the title 'Hyoushu'. The Crimson Leopard. And he forever was granted the power to protect what he loved."

"I don't understand, mommy. That was a long time ago, and that's just a story, why do you call me that? Do I hurt people?"

Her mother chuckled at the worry in the child's voice, "No, darling. I tell you that because the eldest son of the High Priest was your ancestor. You're in his bloodline. A bloodline of people with souls so powerful and pure that no mortal force could ever stop them. Souls so strong that they are mistakenly underestimated even by the Divine. You were born to fight evil, in your own way. The Crimson Leopard runs in your veins, and those Gods watch over you. At least they do according to the story."

"Oh… but what if they had chosen Iris? What if it was just luck that I'm ok?"

"It wasn't," she kissed the girl's forehead and whispered into her hair, "I know it."

"Nope, she's nowhere to be found. Guys- guys stop! I told you, I can't find her! …The bar… yeah I also checked the observatory… we used to go there when we were kids, thought she might've been hiding there… yeah alright I dunno what kinda luck they'll have though. Oh, hey- HEY! SHUT THE FUCK UP I'M TALKIN'! Did Michi show up yet?… alright imma see if she's with him… yeah I picked her up there when she was drunk once, Rikio knows the place… thanks, lemme know if you find her." Yata hung up the phone with the nerve-wracking clan and started off towards where he hoped Yuuto lived.

When he got to the right building he had to count to which floor the right room was on from the outside. When he entered the building he accidentally knocked on the wrong door a couple times. It was… awkward.

Eventually he got it right though, and Yuu opened the door and greeted Yata with a confused expression. "Yatagarasu?" Then his eyes widened a bit, he looked down either side of the hall with apparent paranoia and yanked the boy into his living room with surprising force. He was much taller than Yata, but too thin to have that kind of strength.

"Hey, what the-"

"Sorry about that. It would be risky in my line of work to be seen with a member of Homra at my house."

"Your line of work?" Yata raised an eyebrow.

Yuuto waved him off, "To what do I owe the pleasure? I'm not late, am I?! I was just about to leave I swear!"

"It's Akane." Misaki kept it short, not particularly enjoying Yuuto's company. He was wary of him and the secrets he and Akane kept. "We can't find her. You've been in contact with her for-" he cleared his throat as the guilt crept up his chest again, "For the last two years. I figured you might know where her more recent hangouts are, where she might be."

"Ah. Yes I thought something like this might happen. She hates her birthday, I was incredibly surprised to receive your invitation."

"Yeah, I know she does. It wasn't up to me."

"I see. Well I doubt she'd appreciate being bothered, but you might check the local cemetary."

"The cemetary?"

He nodded solemnly, "She spends every birthday there. With her family."

"Oh." They had a moment of almost awkward silence. It was more depressing than anything else though. "I didn't know that…" It hurt a bit. He had always wondered where she went, but she would never tell him. Did she really trust this Yuuto guy more than she had trusted him? Even before everything?

"Don't look like that, she didn't tell me because she wanted to. If it was up to her no one would know. She cares about you in particular more than anything, trust me." He would've denied it, but the statement gave him a weird feeling in his stomach and his mood was significantly lifted. "But I- I really don't think you should bother her. It's a very personal time for her I'm not sure how she would react to being interrupted. It's the only time all year she spends any time with them.

Yata shrugged, "I won't force her to leave. But I've gotta try. Maybe she needs a friend there and she just doesn't realize it.

They stood in silence for a moment longer before Yuuto spoke up again.

"By the way… you wouldn't mind leaving out the window, would you?"

It was like watching a memory. Nothing about her had changed in these last months. He could see it in the way she walked. He could see the power that he had worked so hard to drag out of her. He was happy to see she hadn't forgotten the training he had so graciously given her. The way she stepped, how she kept her head down but eyes always moving. He knew that he wouldn't have been able to hear her footsteps even if he had been standing right there beside her. That was why he had to make this so impersonal. He had done his job too well.

He released a long breath, a longing sigh, missing the feeling of her skin, the anger and fire in her eyes. Michael Furutani smiled as he gazed through the scope of his rifle across the street.

He'd have that skin on his wall so it would never leave him again.

The smile flickered away as static came through his radio. And then a voice. "Sir. We've got a problem. A member of Homra has been sited on scene, he's headed her way."

Michael's face contorted in fury and he snatched up the hand-held communicator to yell into it. "Why in the HELL is Homra here?!"

"We... we don't know sir. He's closing in on her location, we have to abort."

"SHIT!" he threw his chair across the room and it burst into a thousand splinters. The woman in the corner shrieked and whimpered in terror through the duct tape over her mouth. He rolled his eyes at her and picked the radio back up, fuming, "This is the only time we can be sure of her location for the next year. I don't care what it takes, find where she's been staying. And figure out what the fuck Homra has to do with the little wretch. She's mine, you hear?! FIND HER!"

"Y-yes sir, of course sir, I'll get my best men on it right away."

"No. Get everyone on it. I want to know everything about her!" He shut the device off so he wouldn't have to listen to the idiot's whining any longer. He looked through the scope once again and found the gang member he had been warned about. He looked like just a child. A weakling. But then that's what they all looked like. And Furutani knew better than to believe it. He couldn't risk them coming after him right now, especially not their King. He was one of the few people on the entirety of the planet that he held a healthy dose of fear towards.

He snarled at the unknowing boy, tempted to blow his head off. "If you take her from me," he whispered, "You'll wish this bullet had been for you." The man turned to the poor girl tied up and crying across the room from him. "If I can't have her, you'll have to do."

She futilely tried to scream as he approached.

A/N: Heyyyyyyyyy guys wassup. How's uh... how's quarantine dare I ask? Hope you're all doing alright I'm sorry for not posting this sooner so you guys had something to do :/

Shoutouts to Mirah Ashley for messaging me and scolding me to update lmao, you're a g!

I cut this chapter a little short due to the current circumstances but that means I already have the first half of the next planned out so it should come relatively soon! Especially since now I've gotten used to my new schedule and actually have a ton of time to work on DR.

I hope this chapter wasn't too much... normally I like to spread the dark stuff and flashbacks out both for you guys and because it's honestly pretty emotionally taxing for me to write, but I felt that it was necessary in this instance. There will be just a little more of that in the next one but then it should be a little lighter for a while. Either way I hope you guys liked getting a slightly clearer picture of Akane's past! Trust me there's so much more though I just figured you'd earned this much for being patient with my noncommittal ass lol

In the meantime, I love your comments and support they mean the world to me! Until next time... which is hopefully in the near future XP

-TFT, wondering if she might've should've taken it easy on her poor child... jk she can take it

PS Oneshot ideas? Asking for fren