WARNING! Be advised that this chapter contains mentions of rape, suicide, and murder which may be distressing to some readers.
It's 1:24 in the morning.
She should be in bed, sleeping.
But she isn't.
1:25 AM, the clock now read.
She glowered at the offending device, huffing as she crossed her arms. Her eyes fluttered close.
The next time they opened, the clock read 1:30.
"Let's get this over with," she sighed, fingers spread as she stretched them outward. "Awaken."
A wooden doll, previously lying prone by the digital clock, began to quiver as though it has a life of its own. In a way, it has. She decided to call it Yumerei.
Golden strings curled and coiled around the doll's body like pythons preparing to devour prey. It was a faceless thing, basic, but nonetheless crucial. It is, after all, the instrument that will allow her to make a killing overnight. The marionette began to walk in place, the glass surface of her coffee table allowing it a smooth undisturbed pace.
The other end of her strings interlaced themselves with slender fingers, ready for her to take charge. To take control.
And take control she did.
Just right across the street from where she is– an abandoned structure soon to be torn down– a man stepped out of a nightclub, incognisant of the spell he is about to be placed under. Kabuki-chō, a Tokyo red-light district also often referred to as the "Sleepless Town", remains true to its epithet. It is, indeed, sleepless as the infamous neighbourhood, still brimming with life and nefariousness, paid no heed to Father Time. The clubs and restaurants bathed both the locals and tourists in their neon lights, hoping to entice customers should their street hawkers or promoters fail.
On any other day, she might have been out on the street or in a club enjoying the nightlife. Unfortunately (or fortunately in this case), work has to come first. In a world dominated by super-powered individuals, an influx of new occupations that used to be fiction became reality. The arrival of superpowers, or Quirks, also became a catalyst for the emergence of Villains. One could argue that the woman fell under the 'villain' category but she preferred a more professional term:
Contract killer.
Unlike villains, who earn nothing but a bad reputation (from the Pro Heroes and common folk anyway), people like her get paid as well as earn favours with the higher-ranked members of society's underbelly– hence her lack of sleep. She would rather have been doing her job in broad daylight where Heroes are likely to "witness" the kill. Of course no one has ever come close to connecting any of the deaths to her. And for good reason.
The man, her mark, stayed oblivious to the fact that his life was about to come to an abrupt end.
A pair of fuchsia eyes gleamed with charismatic wildness as they glowed in the shadows. A maliciously feral grin began to pull at her lips.
She is going to enjoy this.
"Yumerei, halt."
Following her simple command, the doll's actions come to a halt. Right outside the building, her mark who had been calm and unsuspecting up until that point froze as an inexplicable numbness took over his body.
"Yamanobe Yumerei," she whispered into the darkness of the room but actually speaking to the man standing out on the street. "Let's talk, shall we?"
Before her mark can even think to call for help, the woman began moving her fingers in a way that only a master puppeteer's would. Connected with the doll and therefore the man, she felt the sheer terror that settled into his stomach. She felt him resist and stagger down the pavement but the passerby were either too enthralled by their surroundings to pay him any mind or assumed he was just another customer who have had one too many. How amusing.
"Resistance is futile," she spoke, her voice only a whisper in his ear. "Be good and stop fighting. You will only hurt yourself."
"Who are you? How do you know my name?" Finally, some cooperation.
The man addressed her in his head, unsure whether she can hear him or not. Most of her marks in the past always tried to resist at first before dissolving into panic once they realized how strong a hold she had on them when they could not even activate their Quirks. Those jobs, in particular, bored her. But, once in a blue moon, there are the cunning ones whose names would end up on her desk. They entertain her the most.
Men like Yamanobe Yumerei always think they can outplay her in her own game and she allowed them to believe that. It made them more willing and her work much easier. Which is why she learns as much as she can about the mark, their daily routine, their relations, down to how they like their coffee. Knowing all the available information gave her the means to manipulate them like her marionettes.
"I believe you already know the answer to your second question, Yamanobe-san," she said. "As for the first, well, you will learn my name in just a few moments."
The marionette walked across the desk and up a stack of old books that were made to appear like stairs. She felt Yumerei's trepidation through the connection but he masked it with faux confidence. Forced up the stairs by her Quirk, the man had little choice but to follow. "Whatever they agreed to pay you, lady, I'll double it."
She smirked, fully aware that Yamanobe Yumerei does not possess the money to do so. Still, she played along. His steps faltered before continuing their journey up the building. "I'm not certain you can meet my price, Yamanobe-san. After all, isn't that why I'm here? You owe my employer a debt."
"I'll triple– no, quadruple it if you tell me who hired you!" He tried again. This time, the woman allowed him a brief respite. He thought he had gotten through to her as his legs began ascending the stairs much more carefully.
"But you still don't even know what kind of debt you owe, Yamanobe-san," she sighed as though she was speaking to a child. "Yuuma Sara. Sound familiar?"
If Yumerei's fear wasn't obvious then, it is now. Abject horror washed over his body and she relished in it. The man finally arrived at the rooftop, his eyes strained to search the seemingly empty space. "N-no, I don't think so."
"Twenty-years-old, daughter of Yuuma Kamaji," she pressed on. "Raped multiple times. Still doesn't ring a bell?"
"N-n-no! I don't know her!"
"Are you sure?"
"Y-y-yes! I swear!"
The silence chilled Yamanobe and, for a moment, he believed she had left. "Sara jumped off a bridge two weeks ago, did you know that?"
"I… I don't really know her." He realised that he had spoken out loud and briefly felt relief. He thought he had convinced her, outsmarted her, but then the pain flared. It felt like he was being held over scorching flames. It burned. He went to scream for help but found himself unable to use his voice.
Back in the room, the woman held the doll over a candle. It writhed in her hand like it was trying to break free. Torture isn't really her forte but it was one of the requirements in the contract. Let him feel the pain my beloved daughter felt in her last moments. I want him to know how helpless, how weak he made her feel. And I want him dead.
Then, the pain disappears as quickly as it came.
"After assaulting her… you attempted to kill her, didn't you?" She said quietly, all the amusement leaving her porcelain face. "You covered her in kerosene, tossed a lit match, and left her there to die. She survived… but she died later anyway. Why do you think that is, Yamanobe-san?"
His patience snapped, "I already told you, bitch, I don't know any Yuuma Sara! For all you know, she opened her legs willingly and enjoyed it in that stupid bathroom!"
A beat.
"I thought you said you didn't know her, Yamanobe Yumerei," her tone turned sinister. "How did you know she was violated in a bathroom?"
"Earlier, you asked me what my name was," she continued, not allowing him to speak anymore, "I guess you will never find out."
Within the room, the woman watched the doll fall over the edge of the table. A shadow passed by the window. The cluttering noise of wood was barely heard over the sound of something crashing against metal. The golden strings that attached the doll to her fingers vanished. Terrified screams could be heard just outside the building while she packed away her doll and other personal effects.
She hummed a random melody as she left the room, leaving nothing but menacing shadows and a twisted memory in her wake.
Despite the lack of rest, Aizawa Shouta remained alert and on the lookout for villain activity as he passed over Shinjuku. He stuck to the high ground as he neared the edges of Tokyo's infamous red-light district. It was not his usual patrol area but he had received a tip about a sexual predator he has been chasing for a while and decided to follow up on it. The underground Pro Hero will be damned if he allowed Yamanobe Yumerei to continue roaming the streets any longer.
It was not long until he finally reached Kabuki-chō. He started to comb through the alleyways, knowing through experience that these were the hunting grounds of both greedy and perverse men. He has at least a couple of hours before he needed to get back and get some sleep before going to his day job (teaching is such a pain). He was just thinking about the upcoming school semester when he heard a loud scream followed by a pained grunt.
Eraser Head quickly followed the sound of struggle and found the most surprising scene he had come across that night. A brunette woman dressed in a dark pea coat and cream turtleneck stood over the prone figure of an obviously bulky male. The woman huffed as she started picking her stuff– a black suitcase and a piece of jewellery– up off the ground in a hurry when she realised that she and the unconscious man were not alone.
She looked both pleasantly surprised and relieved to see Aizawa which is, considering how he dressed, a rare reaction from civilians. He watched her press a dainty hand against her chest before saying, "Thank goodness, a Hero! You… you are a Pro Hero, right?"
Before he can open his mouth to reply, she spoke again but this time she sounded… excited? "Oh, wait, I recognise you! You're that Hero who can nullify Quirks, Eraser Head!"
How the hell can this woman have this much energy at two in the morning? He sighed. Leave it to the universe to send him a hyper civilian who can, apparently, knock down a man thrice her weight. "Ma'am, are you alright?"
"Shouldn't you be asking him?" The woman grumbled, checking on the man with the toe of her boot. "This pig thought I'm just another helpless pussy and dragged me here! I've never been so glad to have a knockout gas Quirk until now."
Aizawa cleared his throat, a little bothered by her vulgar language. He glanced down at the man and upon seeing that he's still breathing, focused his attention on the woman. "Since this is clearly self-defence, there won't be any charges pressed against you for using your Quirk without a license–"
"There better not be," muttered the woman, eyes trained on her watch.
"Are you pressing–"
"Look," she interrupted him again, this time her gaze settled on him. "I'd rather just get home to my kid and forget this night ever happened."
He noted how skittish she had become and decided not to push it. "You still need to give the cops a statement."
The woman was well aware that he was not asking and pursed her lips. She crouched, taking a pen and paper out and began to write something down. She stood up and stepped over her assaulter, handing him the paper. "Here's my statement. Have a good day, Aizawa-san."
He was reading over the paper when it struck him: how on earth did she know his name? As a Pro Hero, and an underground one at that, his real name is not easily accessible to the public. Besides his family, close friends, coworkers, and maybe a handful of Villains, no one else knew his name. It was then that he realised his mistake, turning to run after the woman. But she was long gone, disappearing in the crowd thronged the streets of Kabuki-chō.
Eraser Head glared down at the paper, still in disbelief that a pretty face had outsmarted him.
Shit.
This is the first time I've actually been happy with something I wrote so I've decided to continue writing it. I picture "the woman" (let's call her that for now) to look like Columbina, the Third of the Eleven Fatui Harbingers. If you play Genshin Impact, you should be familiar with the Damselette ;)
Anyhow, let me know what you think so far. I know it's just the first chapter but if there are grammatical errors, please notify me. Thank you and enjoy guys!