The tension in the room was so thick that Himiko could practically taste it. The tang from the gunpowder in Ochako's father's hun permeated through the air, though he had not yet fired.
"Dad, please don't shoot. I can explain," Ochako pleaded.
Himiko felt sick with dread and guilt. It wasn't Ochako's mishap to explain, after all. Why should she have to talk her father down from holding Tomura at gunpoint?
Although, Himiko thought, it would probably end up worse if anyone else had tried talking to the man.
"And just how can you possibly explain this, Ochako?"
Himiko watched—they all watched—as Ochako took in the scene of her sullied parlor for a second time in an attempt to come up with a logical explanation.
She could imagine what Ochako was thinking as she surveyed the scene.
Seven strangers,
All in the trashed parlor.
There's no way to explain this.
I'm fucked.
"Uh," Ochako began somewhat lamely. When she next spoke, it was slow and in a higher pitched tone. "These are my friends?"
"Friends, are they?" Her father said. He looked over Ochako's shoulder at the rest of the crew. "Did they—?" His eyes widened when he saw Izuku and Tsuyu, completely unglamored. The disgust on his face was clear.
"Did they tell you what they are?" Ochako's mother hissed, presumably picking up where her husband had cut off.
"Yes. They did." Ochako said, and Himiko saw once again the stern set of her shoulders; her hands curled into fists at her sides. Gone was the gentle girl who had held her hand during their walk—the girl who was so kind to the strange little silver-haired child, and who didn't take offense at Jin's harsh contradictions. Here stood Ochako the Warrior, ready to defend.
"If you know what they are, then why," her mother continued. She marched over to Ochako and grabbed her wrist, dragging her away from Himiko's crew as well as Izuku and Tsuyu. Himiko felt Eri grab at her skirt. The little girl was whimpering, probably frightened by the fighting and the shouting. She hid behind Himiko and cried softly. "are you still over there with them?"
"I already told you, Mother, these are my friends." Ochako wrestled her arm out of her mother's grasp. She was now standing almost in the center of the parlor near the overturned table. Ochako saw where she was and moved to stand between Tomura and the barrel of her father's gun. "You taught me to always stand by my friends."
"I don't need you to fight my battles for me, kid," Tomura said, though he said it low enough that no one else was likely to have heard it besides Ochako, Himiko and Magne.
Ochako ignored Tomura, and stayed planted where she was.
"We also taught you to stay the hell away from selkies and faeries!" Her mother shouted. Somehow the woman had managed to be both deathly pale and red in the face at the same time.
"These aren't your friends," Despite the venom in Ochako's father's voice, he lowered the pistol. "They must have you under a spell of some sort."
"A spell? Really, Father," The change from 'Dad' to 'Father' did not go unnoticed by the older man. "you stoop so low as to insult my friends with such trivial nonsense?"
Ochako's mother let out a gasp.
"What is that around your throat?"
"Around my—?" Ochako's hand fluttered up the hemline of her dress, and there it was: the necklace that Himiko had spent so long gathering the different components for—the very testament of Himiko's love and commitment to Ochako.
"It must be a talisman—a beacon through which they are controlling you." Ochako's mother hissed.
Himiko could stand this no longer. How dare they tarnish something that they could not even begin to understand? If that necklace was a talisman, it was only a talisman by which Ochako could be reminded of Himiko's love. If that necklace was a beacon, it was a beacon to the rest of the world that it might see Himiko's deepest desire.
That necklace was a claim, a promise, a message. It was not evil. It was not given with malicious intent. How dare they? How dare they?
"You are mistaken."
Three words. Three words was all it took to have every eye on Himiko. Her face burned at the attention.
"I beg your pardon?"
"I said," Himiko stated, loud and clear. Any embarrassment she felt burned away in her fury. "that you are mistaken."
"How dare you speak to me in that manner? And in my own house, too, you evil child."
Himiko flinched at the insult that Ochako's mother threw at her. Memories–flashbacks, really–of her own parents hissing the same words at her at such a young age beat against the inside of her skull.
"I believe, Mother, that it is you who dares." came Ochako's voice–though it sounded faint and echo-like in Himiko's ears.
"Ochako is correct," Tomura said. He had slung his tatty overcoat around his shoulders once more, hiding his selkie skin from view. "This may be your house, madam, but that gives you no right to hurl such insults at my family based on your own close-minded prejudices."
Himiko had known Tomura for years, and yet she rarely ever saw him act like this: his speech pattern knowledgeable and precise, his presence demanding the attention of every soul in the room.
After a pause that felt like an eternity, Tomura continued his thought with a final statement.
"We will be leaving. Unharmed, if you don't mind," He said. He turned away from Ochako's father and towards the rest of the crew. "Come."
"No."
It was Ochako's father that uttered that one word. Himiko's stomach sank. The man had raised his pistol again and had aimed it at Tomura–who was no longer standing behind Ochako, and therefore directly in his target.
Tomura turned back around to face the man.
"Pardon?"
"Are you deaf? I said no." Ochako's father cocked the hammer of his pistol, and the click hushed the room the way no other sound could. Himiko heard Dabi suck in a sharp breath behind her. "Don't get me wrong, I want you out of my house, but first you will release my daughter from your wicked spell."
"I cannot."
The man's finger twitched on the trigger.
"You can, and you will."
"I'm not under a spell, Father. How many times must you be told?"
"Be quiet, stupid girl." Ochako's mother hissed. "Your word means nothing. Not while you are within their clutches."
"Your daughter is speaking only the truth. Must you be such an imbecile?" Tomura said. "We cannot release her from a nonexistent spell. Besides, selikes do not possess the skill to create magic. We are simply creatures of magic."
Ochako's father's hands were shaking in rage, the pistol clacking with each jerk.
"You lie!" He spat, and before anyone could move, the crack of gunfire exploded within the room.