The Other Side

How he had managed to pass the test, his first attempt no less, was still a mystery to Yuusui. Sure, he had some degree of stealth about him, he wouldn't call himself the world's most obvious person, but the fact he had managed to get past some of the others was no less shocking, Especially, when one of them was a master thief that practically breathed this stuff.

Was it the darkness that worked to his advantage? Those doll-like eyes of his had always been good at seeing in the dark, helping Father carry out his tasks like the good obedient child he was. They were always able to spot forms before others could, maybe that was the reason he was able to see Mei with such clarity in the black void?

Or was it tailored towards him purposefully? Suspicion was an ugly emotion, ready to turn everyone into little green devils if they weren't careful, but Yuusui would have been incredibly stupid if he discounted the possibility.

Especially with how Subaru was the one taking the task. The manic clown had taken an interest in him from the start, leading him around the Foundation and then also making sure to bring a personal induction meeting he knew none of the others had had. One could explain it down to Yuusui joining the intake late, but the teen couldn't shake the feeling something more was at play.

The exercise just seemed too geared towards his Quirk as well, and the thought made his brow furrow, knitting together in intense thought. The darkness had been the perfect blanket for him to use his Quirk without detection, and with how some of the traps appeared to be either sound detected or motion detected, everything was slotting into place in his head.

Cracking his knuckles, hearing the tired joints pop satisfyingly, Yuusui rolled his shoulders back. That nasty habit of his had reared its ugly head again, the fact it ruined his posture had been constantly drilled into his head by multiple sources, but half the time he couldn't help it.

His muscles ached like hell, quite frankly. You wouldn't have expected it with what was mainly a stealth task, but having to contort and twist his body like a bendy straw put one hell of a strain on his frame.

It was way Yuusui had retreated to his dorm immediately after the task was said and done, ever grateful that Subaru had a glimmer of good in his heart. He never expected to see that again, so taking the opportunity that was dangled before him was a no-brainer. The shambling corpses that had once been his mutant classmates were all he needed to see to know he made the right choice.

Compared to some of the others, who Yuusui bet would have taken to design their dorms like their own personal kingdom, the fair-haired teen was never one to partake in that. Simple, minimal beginnings bred familiarity; he was more than at home in what many would've considered to be inhabitable.

With just the bed that had been provided to him and the little desk that had probably been placed in here suddenly with how haphazardly it was shoved into the corner, Yuusui allowed the minimalist comfort to wash over him as he leaned back down on the bed and started at the ceiling.

Should he talk to Subaru? Would Subaru even talk to him? And if he even got to talk to Subaru, would he get an answer that would satisfy him? Those were the questions racing through his mind at a million miles an hour. Yuusui could be sure the others had similar feelings too, however, they likely were too worn down already by the strenuous Foundation to act on them.

…Perhaps he had to keep an open mind about this? He still had the implication of the "test" Subaru had planned for him bouncing around in his head, waiting in the depths of the murky waters like a blood-thirsty shark ready to bite and rip him to shreds.

But was there any use trying to pretend this was going to be anything other than an uphill battle? A sarcastic part of Yuusui knew full well what could happen, what had happened before, and what would likely happen in the future.

Keeping his childish dream alive was all he could wish for at this point. Strange Foundations honestly weren't the worst he experienced, the hand that was pressed to his left chest area aching as he brought it directly above him and under the shining lights.

A hideous scar had been scrawled across it in a jagged curse that would never fade. Oh, the unimaginable pain he had received in that instant would've left weaker men in the dust. The ripping of flesh and crunching of bone was still alive in his head, pounding through his eardrums like they had never left. The drip, drip, drip of blood on the floor like a metronome keeping the memory preserved in perfect time forever.

"The mark of a hapless puppy…" That's what it had been called on that day, a sneering, jeering derisive term. On that day, he had drowned in an ocean of inexperience, submerged beneath the current that washed him away in its bloody victory.

His right hand dusted over his chest, those glassy eyes owning a modicum of movement as they narrowed at the light touch. A soft hiss emanated from his lips, Yuusui gritted his teeth to prevent further unwarranted sounds from escaping.

On that day, he paid the price tenfold. On that day, he learned that there was a price for freedom. Freedom only came to those who bent their will to their supposed saviours, and the slightest peep out of line shoved Yuusui right back into the box he thought was long in his past.

However, he had moved past it… Those days had made him stronger… Strong enough to return and meet their gaze on an equal.

…On that day… They didn't turn up. How long he had waited for someone that would never come back, that was the story flung around about him in the succeeding days. A few idiots dared to mock him for his dream… Like they would ever hope to know the feelings he had that day.

Devastation had won that day… Yuusui didn't want to think about it. He couldn't think about it, because that couldn't be the end. His whole life until then had been leading up to that moment, and it couldn't have led to a pathetic whimper being the last memory of them he had.

Shaking his head, Yuusui placed his hands back down by his sides and got up. Being alone like this, all couped up in a blank room was driving him mad. He had to get out and about for a bit, a good portion of the Foundation was still a mystery to him. It wouldn't hurt to know more.

"Ha… Ha… Holy shit… Fuck…" However, the second he stepped out of his dorm and turned the corner, Yuusui's ears pricked up. Enough time observing everyone had made him wise to exactly whose voice that was. Poking his head around the corner he could see the form of Kagekatsu panting on his knees, what on earth had caused that to happen? There weren't any enemies about, right?

What Yuusui didn't know, and Kagekatsu would have much preferred him to never know in the first place, was that the foxboy was presently in the process of trying to train even more. The only issue was that his noddle arms and skinny frame were floundering on the ground, limp and dead.

All over a simple push-up. If anyone had the ability to see in that lockbox of nightmares, Kagekatsu would have slashed the throat of anyone that dared to make fun of him for his putrid effort.

Out of the group who had been shoved in there, he had done the worst by a massive markup. In fact, he was the only one who barely managed to crack double digits in any of the tasks given to him. Akashi was the next one afterwards, followed by Ani, and then Fukuro at the top, and even with Akashi's lacklustre score he looked like a god compared to the foxboy.

So, to rectify his hideous display, Kagekatsu had taken to training himself again. Was it smart? Hell no. His body was calling out for an ambulance the second he tried to do a single sit-up. Was it a good strategy to do it out in the open? In theory, maybe. This winding maze could disorientate anyone and doing it in his dorm risked others maybe hearing it, in Kagekatsu's flawed logic it made perfect sense.

It was a shame, then, that only a few minutes after he had started, he ended up being found out by Yuusui and was totally unaware of that fact as he tried to position himself again. His tail stood up in the air, the jagged movements made it look like it was breathing, almost like it had a mind of its own and that mind was screaming at its owner to stop.

Yuusui, still shocked by what he was seeing, fell back into old habits. He said nothing, instead blending into the background and observing the scene in front of him. Part of him felt so dirty for doing so, like he shouldn't be seeing this even if it was just a basic exercise movement. Yet, more of him couldn't resist observing the foxboy's strength.

"…Come… Come on!" Kagekatsu grunted as he lowered himself down, his calves and thighs, whatever he had of them, shaking as he struggled to maintain the straight position the body needed for a push-up. "Don't wimp out on me! Don't you… Don't you fucking dare!"

Unfortunately for Kagekatsu, he had long expended all of his strength. The second he attempted to push himself up, his arms buckled, and he found himself in an intense kissing match with the Foundation's white stainless floor. The ensuing growl sounded more primal than just about anything Yuusui had heard out of him yet… And familiar as well…

Before he could stop himself, Yuusui was over by Kagekatsu's side, squatting down and trying to pick the other up with his calloused hands. Why? He didn't know. His body had moved before he knew it was, by the time he returned to lucid thought he was already knee-deep in trouble with the face that was being pulled his way. "Ummm… I-I just saw… I saw that you needed help." Came the explanation of his actions.

The face Kagekatsu was pulling looked like something you'd expect on a former villain. His pupils were minute, their feral look combined with the curling back of his lips into a vicious snarl. The canines in his mouth started to elongate and turn into proper fangs. "Go… away!" He growled out slapping away Yuusui's hand that had been offered out, trying in vain to get back up under his own power. The glassy-eyed teen was the last person Kagekatsu wanted to see about now, the absolute last.

"Hey…" Yuusui didn't stop there, though. There was something far too familiar about this whole situation that prevented him from leaving. Much to the chagrin of the foxboy, Yuusui moved behind him and caught him around the shoulders, helping stabilise him on the way up. "Don't stress yourself… Your body…" He finished, pointing to the major sweats that were befalling the other.

Kagekatsu had ditched the usual kimono for the time being, just leaving him with what he normally wore under it… Which was the furthest thing from what one should have been wearing when exercising. For all Subaru had done to copy his wardrobe, he'd done a shit job at getting everyone actual sports gear. "Mind your place!" He replied, anger in his yellow eyes as he poked Yuusui right in the chest.

The same area of the chest that had caused Yuusui's grimace earlier. Unlike last time, he was unprepared for this one. The hiss of pain was far louder and more pronounced, the grimace larger and more riddled with suffering than before. "Ughhh…" He groaned out, still trying his best tough it out. It really shouldn't hurt as much as it did.

On the flip side, it seemed like that woke up the more compassionate side of Kagekatsu. His lips and teeth returned to their normal positions, and while his pupils remained in a feral dilution, there was a shine of life behind them that wasn't present before. "Shit! Sorry!" He apologised in trademark fashion, hastily pulling his hand back.

Yuusui shook his head, looking half like he wanted to laugh in order to diffuse the pain. Either that or he was suddenly constipated, 50/50 really. "It's fine… It's fine, I don't mind. You weren't to know." None of these people were close to him, at least as he suspected at the moment, they weren't to know not to press that part of his chest. He couldn't be made at the Kitsune, not when he was genuine in the apology.

"No, no, you listen to me 'cause you ain't going to hear this out of me again. It was my fault, and that's final!" Kagekatsu being magnanimous didn't happen often, his fragile sense of pride had to be upheld somehow. Even if it was just shattered when he faceplanted on the floor moments earlier. It didn't help he felt like he was repeating a whole damn conversation he had a thousand times before.

His opposite number couldn't shake that feeling either as the pain died down and everything seemed to return to normal. Every time he met, saw, or talked to Kagekatsu… It was like God was laughing at him silent with how painfully close to his dream everything was. "I'm just going to say, I didn't come out to watch you… I was just going to take a look around, maybe talk to Fujinaga-san…" Having to refer to Subaru as that was still so weird to Yuusui, nothing about it felt right.

Kagekatsu raised an eyebrow, half like he didn't believe that story even though it was probably true. "Oh, really? You going to ask him what the fuck was going on with you lot? All I saw was a shit tonne of barbed wire and spikes." Honestly, the foxboy could be glad he only had to embarrass himself with his shitty physical skills. He would have probably been turned into a shish kebab had he done the same exercise as the rest.

"Mhm…" Yuusui nodded, not how he would've phrased it but that was the gist of what he wanted to know distilled in Kagekatsu's usual crude fashion. "I think it might help me in the future… He said he had a test for me, you see."

"Well, I gotta bone to pick with him as well. Bastard needs to explain why he thinks locking us away like that was a good idea. Mind if I tag along?" In truth, Kagekatsu had made that reason up on the spot. That was probably why it sounded like the bald-faced lie it was. The unshakeable familiarity of the whole situation egged him on regardless, he knew why he was feeling like this for sure. But he didn't know "why" in essence.

Similarly, just like their previous encounter at breakfast the other day, Yuusui was enraptured by the blooming feeling within him. A little internal celebration was held in his head when he heard Kagekatsu speak, not caring for the obvious lie that would falter if brushed by a gentle breeze. "Sure, I don't see why not. Do you think Fukuro-kun or Ani-san would like to come with us as well if we get them, they were there with you too, no?"

At the mention of Ani's name, Kagekatsu shivered, the sweat from his hair now an apt metaphor. "Fuck no, she can keep her ass far away from me, thank you very much!" His tone started off indignant but got quieter to the end, right until he looked up at Yuusui with something of a smirk. "Besides, I still need to thank you for giving me your food."

"A-Ah, right!" Yuusui replied, his first exclamation jumpy and untamed as he started to follow Kagekatsu, who set about navigating the halls of the Foundation.

…That half-smirk… He had seen it before… He was sure of it.

Was it…?

No…

He had to keep the dream alive but drop his expectations. He was only thinking this because Kagekatsu was a Kitsune.

There was no way that Kagekatsu could be the one he was looking for…

His… His stranger…

On the other side of the city, deep below the ground and in what many who worked in it might have considered hell itself, one of Kagekatsu's former Inner Circle colleagues was having the time of his life.

The thunderous boos of the crowd… The roar of elation from hundreds of drug-riddled reprobates every single time his shit got kicked in… The sense of shock, utter silence, every single time he overcame the odds to prove himself yet again as the prodigy he always was. All of it was so, so beautiful to witness.

"Hey yo! How's about you show me a little respect? I didn't just bust my ass to get jeered at by a bunch of toothless, meth-addicted hicks! Shut your fucking mouth, you stupid ass Marks!" The discordant cacophony that assaulted his eardrums was like the sweetest honey that he had ever tasted. There was nothing in this world quite like managing to make an entire arena of people hate your guts, especially more than they hated themselves or those goddamn Heroes.

A hand went up to his face, dragging through the musty mixture of sweat and blood that coated the left side like sticky glue. Part of him wanted to lick said mixture right off his fingers, savouring the texture of his victim's shame.

"Ad Majora natus sum!" No matter how many times Osprey unleashed that phrase to the world, he would never get sick of the tingling feeling that left his body on its utterance. It didn't matter how loud he had to speak, his voice scratching and clawing to overpower the jeers

With the same hand, he might have looked like he was mocking the ground, but his eyes had locked on an area in particular. The shitty viewing box that overlooked the whole coliseum fight arena. "You see this? This is your shame and I'm covered in it. From head to toe, your best fighter was nothing before me… Ya hear me?! Nothing! That lousy sack of shit wasn't fit to lick my boots!"

Right underneath Osprey's foot was the fighter in question. In their heyday, none could deny how imposing they looked. How many people across the spectrum could look at such a specimen without feeling envy was fleeting, with those rippling biceps, powerful calves, and importantly an obscenely powerful just adding more and more to the aura.

To some, the idea of toppling such a giant of the Crimson Coliseum was unthinkable, maybe even somewhat undesirable. Losing such powerful gladiators was bad for business, no less. This wasn't some bullfighting ring, and the crack fighters were never in the position of being lambs to the slaughter.

Osprey had taken the undesirable and made it fucking undeniable. The proud, preening peacock that had once stood over so many fallen victims, now a victim themselves. The face of the preening peacock was emasculated, like thousands of tiny blades had struck all at once, turning what was once human skin into shaslik. The same could be said for the body, dotted with so many tiny holes that that once-powerful chest looked more like a cheese grater.

It was a level of brutal gore and mutilation matched only by one of his Inner Circle compatriots.

"Allow me to introduce myself to you all, just so you know my name whenever you see me at the apex of the world. My name is Osprey, I am a prodigy the likes of which the world has never seen and will never see again. I am one of a kind, you should be basking in my glory because you ain't ever going to see such a genius for the rest of your lives! So, without further ado, the Age of Osprey is upon us!"

Pointing down to the landmark of his visceral victory, Osprey had one final declaration to make before he left for greener pastures. "You hicks won't get this, not like I expect you to get much either way, but welcome to the real world! You've lived in this little bubble for far too long! Your drug-addled brains might not realise it, but this is the start of a new era! A time where those with the ambition and the talent to achieve it can do one thing, one thing none of you could ever know if it murdered you in cold blood. People say that they want to pass on the torch, not me! I want to hold onto that damn torch and make it mine alone! I will live forever! This is true! This is real! This is the power of the United Empire!"

And with that, Osprey had left the floor of the arena. To no less thunderous acrimony than when he first stepped foot on this trashy turf. Hell, his footprint alone probably doubled the value of this absolute dump! Those people should have been getting down on their hands and knees, kissing the ground he walked on! And if they died from the unsanitary conditions, then that was an extra benefit!

It took all of his power to not throw up as he wandered down the lone hallway on this side of the Coliseum. This place was the fucking shits if he had ever seen it, wedged firmly in the armpit of Japan. Everything breath he took was like he was sucking on nuclear fallout, and the blood caking his face was not helping.

"Dipshit with his dick in his hand..." The ebony hair male muttered, rubbing at his face to try and clean the sickly concoction away. Now, he was regretting not bringing a towel with him. Although, how could he know he would be stabbing some fat bastard so much that blood would spurt out like that? Usually, it was one and done.

That was the job of the assassin. Stalk, kill, leave without a trace you were even there. The former and the latter were unavailable here, leaving kill as his only familiar role. Maybe that was why he had struggled briefly to find his foot.

Still, he had cut that preening peacock down to size, ushering in his self-proclaimed "Era of Osprey." The ungrateful mouth breathers here would never see it, their eyes too cooked up by meth and cocaine to properly recognise the generational talent he was. A man that could build an Empire for decades to come, with people following him to the end.

Just like his daytime job, though, no one could recognise his excellence. Their tiny minds were not capable of processing just how far ahead of the curb he was. When they thought they had all the answers, Osprey had come in and changed the culture. Not his fault they were too retarded to recognise it.

At least he was alone this time, no annoying, bitch sidekick reporters complaining about stupid shit. No producers laying into him about shit he had no control over. Most importantly, no Painmaker and Flashfire to treat him like shit on the bottom of their shoe. He was free from all of it.

The feeling was wonderful, able to wander the world freely like he had done for 20 years of his life and intended to carry on for longer. Not a single man or prized bitch to hold him down as he continued his inexorable rise to the zenith of his power.

A shapeshifting bird of prey at Poe's masquerade of Red Death, an assassin with a clean kill rate and unmatched efficiency, and a graceful black swan on a wonderful stage. All of them described Taka Michinoku to a tee.

However, he would never stop until he could add one more epithet to that list.

Immortal.

Within the Inner Circle, he could achieve that. That was what he had been promised, the opportunity to live forever and finally, finally¸ let his name stand out among the sea of insignificant morons that claimed they were just as talented as he was. Nobody was as talented as he was, on the off chance they were, Osprey was the only one still alive to remember that fact.

These Heroes… These Villains… They couldn't hold a candle to the Inner Circle, let alone a prodigy like himself. Once upon a time, when he was younger, he remembers a voice calling out to him and imploring him to read about the figures of the past. "Come on, Taka-nii! It'll be fun! We can even play as them if you want!" That voice hadn't gotten any less grating over the years… God…

Like any kid born in the era of Quirks, it was easy to get swept up in these tales. The tales of Tomura Shigaraki, All For One, All Might, Deku, all those names that had been etched forever into history due either to their massive destruction or their supposed heroic sacrifice.

But that was just it. They were the ones in the history books. No one ever made mention of Midnight, did they? No one made mention of Native, did they? On the Villain side, who gave a flying fuck about Spinner? Did anyone care that Mange had died that wasn't close to her?

It was something Osprey had grasped since he was a kid. History was not only written by the victors, it was written by the people who had sat on that zenith, the mountain of omnipotence as Painmaker liked to term it. Only they decided who was remembered, who got to be considered Heroes as they discarded lower named reprobates to the dustbin of history.

The journalist in him couldn't help but give a sardonic laugh, it was just soooooooooo typical. Then they had the guts to commemorate the fallen Heroes of that war? Were the civilians not worthy of having their names read out as well? It was honestly comical.

And that was exactly why he made the leap to the Inner Circle. Getting lost in the shuffle was not something he was going to stand by and let him, the dustbin of history belonged to the Tailmans of history, not the Ospreys.

So, when he was given his task by King Switch, his own nickname for his 'glorious' leader, it was welcomed with open arms. Osprey's level of understanding of the task itself might have been pronounced, nothing a prodigy such as he couldn't handle.

As he stalked further down the corridor, he kept his eyes peeled for the place he had been told to head to. Apparently, the Director, the shithead that ran this place into the dirt, had contacted the King. Ready with a proposition that was more than enticing apparently if Osprey had been tasked with it, given that Painmaker was the supposed hatchet man of the group.

This place was supposedly unmissable. Well, in comparison to the rest, Osprey rolled his eyes at that suggestion. Every door that littered the corridor was another experience in figuring out what was wrong with humanity. Bugs, loaches, he wasn't going to comment on the door covered in white that he had just walked past, all of it made him feel so unclean.

The muck on his normally beautiful face was a long-forgotten tribulation. Most of it had been removed by this point, leaving only the smears on his hands and the faint outlines around his eyes and ears. Even if all the blood, Osprey was convinced he looked better than anyone here.

Lucky for Osprey, he had discovered exactly what he had been sent here for within the next few seconds. Unlike the rest, these cells were covered in a sickly, black-green moss. A smirk crossed his lips when he saw the tell-tale sign of Painmaker's hook cleaving through a large amount of the moss, which was already starting to grow back.

The smirk on his face twisted further as he knocked on the door, not even bothering to try and open it himself. "Oi… Oi… Little bitch-chan. You think locking the door on me will work?" Another knock on the door, followed by a pained groan from behind it. "Kohana-chan… Open up… I don't want to have to hurt you more…"

A cough faintly puffed behind the door, she was in there and what a little bitch was being in not letting Osprey in. How he would have loved to rip the doors off the hinges and race in there, shame he was beholden to tepid decorum.

"If you don't let me in, Little Miss Piggy... I'm going to huff and puff and blow this whole thing down!" The jeer in his voice betrayed nothing of the manic look on his face, the grim truth settling in hard for the person on the other side of the door at the mocking nursery rhyme butchering. "Come on… Let me in… Letmeinletmeinletmeinletmein…"

Osprey's growing mania had left his words a mad garble as his body pressed against the door until a soft click could be heard. The 6'3, Adonis-like form that befit this demon inhabiting a human body stood in the backlit doorway and stared into the darkness. His lurid eyes shifted about until they settled on the form before him…

Ah… This was going to be wonderful… His work on her had been the proudest of his career so far, and he'd only known her for less than a day. The intricate cuts, the vicious scars, and the eternal branding that she was always going to be one of his, combined with the living, breathing state she was still in. It made the Inner Circle's assassin want to weep tears of joy.

Plus, the look on her face when he walked in… That was something he would always treasure. Watching that form melt away… He wanted to savour those delicious tears as much as possible, for they were caused by him and him alone.

Balor was right.

Destruction could be beautiful.

She didn't know why she was here… Well, she did know why but there was a distinct lack of purpose as she wandered around the empty bar. The place looked derelict to the nth degree; the signs of life were fleeting at best. It looked more like it had been used as a place of operations for some shady organisation as opposed to a licensed operator.

But still, she had to carry on... No matter how much this made her want to retreat her limbs into her body, no matter how much her tail continued to stay ramrod still and betray her true emotions. She had to remember... This was for the good of her family... Her parents had made that clear in no uncertain terms...

A man had approached them, allegedly. Looked like something out of a BDSM club if the descriptions from her parents lined up with the assumptions she had made in her head. Beyond that, as she shook that pointless tangent from her head, it was what he offered that was the most important thing.

...It wasn't every day that a member from a prominent family just sorta disappeared into the aether without a word spoken about their whereabouts. Like they had never existed in the first place. There wasn't a single sighting of him as well, which just added to the total feeling of hopeless scrambling she was partaking in.

Her parents didn't know much... Just that one of her brothers was missing after not telling them where he was actually headed to. They could theorize all they wanted really, as she clasped her hands down on one another and muttered into her hands, they were never going to get close to the truth... They all knew this. Even if he had told her who he was looking for, she still couldn't grasp the full answer herself and it was tearing her insides apart.

That's why, they said, this man was so important, and why she just had to check him out for herself after he had reached out to her. If he even had some degree of the answers he was claiming to have, even if it was just the smallest lead or the tiniest scrap, she would willingly throw herself at his feet if it meant finding out the truth.

However… This place still gave her the creeps to a massive extent. As her eyes peered around the corner after corner, taking a small jump over a particularly flimsy-looking floorboard that looked like it was about to cave the whole flooring in, she got to a part of the bar that seemed… Different, to say the least.

For one, there were actually lights, a kind of soft purple glow emanating from them and making her journey so much easier as opposed to stumbling around in the darkness for what seemed like forever. A kind of softness that didn't feel like it belonged, almost as if someone had manufactured it with one big, broad stroke of a brush.

Second, there was actually the thing that this place was supposed to be holding, a bar. A nice one at that. Nothing too fancy, don't get her wrong, but it wasn't as if it was left to rot like the rest of the establishment. The pipes were polished and well maintained, the wood looked much the same and it just set about that feeling of normalcy that had been so sorely lacking.

If this had been the place she first stepped into, then maybe she wouldn't have been walking around the prior place like a young wolf cub that had been separated from the pack. Seriously, was all of that decay really necessary? Or were the people that owned this place too lazy to pay to get that done up too?

"It is a true shame, losing a family member in such a brutal fashion. If I had to lose the most important person to me that way, I wouldn't know who I am or what I would be capable of."

Out of the blue, the voice she heard shot through her system like an arrow to the knee. Her head jerked up with a speed just below the threshold for whiplash, her hand rubbing the back of the neck pretty soon after as a result. Her tail, meanwhile, was so straight and stiff that it could have been used as a weapon and no one would have batted an eyelid.

Twisting her whole body, because of course sitting in the general line of sight would be too helpful all things considered, her brilliant yellow eyes widened. She couldn't help but wonder how many cows needed to be killed to gather that much leather, maybe BDSM was a bit of an understatement!

At her reaction, the man gave a mirth filled chuckle, slowly making his way over to her before stopping at a respectful distance. "Ah, do excuse me, I seem to have forgotten my manners. My name is Tetsuya Naito, at your service." He extended his leather-gloved hand out, his voice polite and reassuring. "Won't you join me for a drink?"

Shuffling her feet in tiny steps towards "Tetsuya", she spied the jet-black hair, down just below his shoulder, that would have been a perfect fit for his supposed name had it not been for the few lilac streaks she could see poking through. "Yes, thank you very much, Naito-san." She said, shaking his hand and bowing respectfully. The last that could be done for a man of his importance.

With a razor-sharp smile, "Tetsuya" had already departed to behind the bar and was working the pumps with a grace that didn't befit the attire he wore. It sucked that she couldn't get her mind off of it, but her wolf ear could pick up every little squeak the rubbing of the leather made, and she would be lying if it didn't drive her a little mad.

Within the next few seconds, the woman found herself sitting on one of the many velvet coated seats with a drink in one hand and "Tetsuya" sat on the other side. That same smile hadn't abated during the time in between, its unsettling serenity a perfect mimic for a certain catboy in a certain Foundation. "A terrible fate, to die like that. I can't imagine what the scene might have been like." A smile that seemed all the more unnerving with the morbid words that spilt from his lips.

The orange-haired wolf girl nodded, drawing the cup closer into her as she kept her head titled down. "Yeah… My… My parents tried to stop me from thinking he was dead, y'know? But… I just think that's wishful thinking at this point." It was painful to admit that, accepting the loss never did make the reality easier.

"Tetsuya" couldn't agree more, placing a hand on the young girl's shoulder. "Indeed, you should have both been growing old together. Parents shouldn't have to bury their own child." The chord he struck was genuine, none of the mirth from before and his eyes reflected a compassion she could find herself lost in.

Trying to stop the tears was a next to impossible task, just thinking of his face was enough to set off the waterworks. How her eyes would never see that smiling face ever again, how her ears would never pick up his snoring or the raucous laughter after a bad joke. God… Even the bad memories were making her choke up. "…I-…. I'm sorry, N-Naito-san…" She choked out, in between hot tears streaming down her face. Damned Quirk…

To her surprise, a handkerchief was flashed before her, which she gratefully took to dab the tears and snot away. "My father said when I was younger that hard times breed better men, same could be said for women such as yourself." Once more, the eyes flashed her direction spoke with a genuine compassion. They held the weary gaze of a man who had spent too many times consoling grieving family members. "What's your name?"

"Nat… Natsume Hinata, Naito-san." Natsume stuttered out, the racing emotions degrading her ability to speak fluently. At least the handkerchief was working wonders, her face no longer a mess of tears and snot corrupting her natural beauty. "T-Thanks… You didn't have to do this."

"Oh, on the contrary, Natsume-san. You didn't have to come and seek me out, yet you did." Another reassuring comment made the weight on Natsume's shoulders that much lighter. "Shows that you're not going to let this sleeping dog lie, and for that, I commend your tenacity."

"It feels like I was stabbed through the heart… That bastard probably didn't even think about the aftermath, probably some drug-riddled villain that went on a rampage." The anger coursed through her body, seething over the sheer injustice she was victim to. Kenta didn't deserve to go out like that.

"They never do, I have a friend who likes to talk about them from time to time. I'm paraphrasing here, and he is a lot cruder than I, but it essentially goes "Si tacuisses philosophus mansisses," do you know what that means?" A shake of the head was the obvious outcome here, leading "Tetsuya" to continue. "It means exactly "If you had kept your mouth shut, we'd have considered you a philosopher." In layman's terms, if those fools think theirs is the only way, then the only way we have of thinking them smart is if they shut up."

It might have come to her in a very roundabout way, but Natsume thought she got the point well enough. Honestly, reading all these books about the past would have made her think, once upon a time, that everything in the world was getting better after the end of the Great Villain war. However, here she was, sitting talking to some BDSM detective about a rouge villain murdering her brother. "…How many of them have you spoken to?"

The question looked to have caught "Tetsuya" somewhat off guard, the almost disconcerting serenity he possessed being interrupted by a harsh jitter of his whole body. His skin rippled like something was pulling at him from every side before it settled back down to that eerie normalcy. "A couple, no more than that. I don't tend to waste my time talking to mouth breathing reprobates. The last one I talked to happened to die recently actually, good riddance I say."

Natsume let out a nervous chuckle at the last part, picking up on the barely hidden malice that flowed through those words. Maybe Naito-san had some family history with them? Something had clearly gone wrong in his life if he dressed like a priest with a bondage fetish. "Must have been some kind of relief for you then."

"Tetsuya's" eyes shifted just like that. Gone were the previous compassionate ones, beautiful sapphires turning into an icy tundra as his whole body tensed. Back too was the rippling effect on his skin, tugging just underneath the surface and making Natsume swear off eye contact for the time being. "Yes. Yes, it was. But then again, we're not here to talk about that, are we? Your brother is the subject here, do you have any idea where he might have gone?"

The wolf girl's ears twitched as she ran a shaky hand through her hair. "Well… He didn't exactly tell me where he was going. I just know he was looking for… For someone who had left our family long ago…" Well, that was her suspicion at least. It was the only reason she could think about without coming off like a conspiracy theorist, and as much as Naito-san might have been able to understand loss, she didn't want to go gallivanting off about her whole family history.

"A black sheep, eh? You think that maybe there were some rumblings within the family that might have wanted to, how you say, cut those ties out fully?" The supposed detective remained calm and composed, with his eyes still beholding the same coldness. Business mode had now been engaged, no doubt starting to bring out the tough questions. "I ask only because there's a famous saying "Whatever is left, however improbable, must be the cause," and I'm not in the business of leaving stones in my path." He finished, tracing a gloved finger across the rim of his glass.

"Oh… I wouldn't think of it like that… Naito-san." Natsume replied, looking to the floor and furrowing her brow. There was no way, absolutely none, that someone from her own family was responsible for this. Not after the work they had all put into training them over the years. Hell, that was probably part of the reason why Kenta was even out in the first place!

"You can never be too certain, Natsume-san. Eliminating all possible bugs on the path is the only way to leave it with a clear mind." Taking a swing of his drink, a soft drink compared to the alcohol he had served Natsume, "Tetsuya" was set in his philosophy. A morbid philosophy, but one that must have served him well if he was here right now. "It seems as if, whoever killed your brother had a motive other than simple carnal pleasure."

Yeah… That sounded about right to Natsume. Whilst she still wanted to believe that this had been a simple rampage killing from some out-of-control villain, the lack of any other reports of deaths or disappearances made this a targeted and intentional killing. "Do you think maybe someone was stalking him? Or… Actually, forget that…"

Natsume stopping before her second point made "Tetsuya's" eyes narrow, his drink pushed off to the side as he pulled his chair in closer to the young woman. "Stalking, you say? Well, that would be a possible scenario. However, I'm much more interested in what you were going to say there."

His closeness caused Natsume to move her own chair back, recovering the normal and non-creepy distance between the two of them. "Well… Ummm… You're going to keep this between the two of us, right? I don't know what my parents would think of me telling you this." She clasped the sides of the seat as she spoke, her knuckles turning white.

"Of course, of course. This is a confidential meeting and I also have to factor everything into my investigation." The black and purple-haired man replied back, soon downing another half of the drink and leaving barely anything left.

Bringing her hands up from the edge of the seat, which she found herself proverbially sitting on, Natsume fiddled with her fingers as she responded. "I think… I think… You see, I have another brother, the one you called a black sheep. And he… He's been gone for a while, and last I heard he was working around in this thing called the Crimson Coliseum. I wonder if maybe someone from there figured out his family history, and maybe they were the one who attacked Kenta!"

"Tetsuya" nodded, his lips pressing into a fine line once the last drops of his drink were finished, and he shoved the cup off to the sides. "Yes, that's all very probable, Natsume-san. When people fall into these circles, they often find themselves awash with fleas, and it can be very hard to pluck them from you before it's too late."

It was Natsume's turn to nod as she finally placed the drink to her lips, the sweeting tasting nectar rejuvenating her, as well as causing her to miss the slight smirk that was delivered her way by the other. "Glad to see that you think the shhhame toooooo…"

All of a sudden, there was a tightness in her throat and Natsume's hands immediately flung to it. She hadn't been able to finish her last sentence, her slurred words included, before the constriction of her vocal cords had her choking on oxygen. Her worried eyes shot up to the form of "Tetsuya" as the man remained stock in the face of what he was seeing.

"Indeed, I do think you're correct, Natsume-san." The man said, getting off the chair and wandering to the other side of the room, far away from where Natsume's currently peril left her. "And do you know why? Because just like a buzzard, I'm a messenger of death, and your beloved Kenta was the most recent carrion I carried across the Styx."

Natsume could hear what was being said but was unable to focus on it. Her whole body felt so, so cold. Like a tundra had passed through and left her whole being no warmer than a ship-sinking iceberg, and that didn't go to mention the utter agony that befell the rest of her.

The corners of her mouth frothed up, making her look like she had just contracted rabies out of nowhere. Muscles spasmed each and every direction, almost as if there was a party under her skin or a wildfire had just been released to combat the arctic cold.

But the worst part, the absolute worst, was that she found herself unable to cry out in anguish or in anger. Natsume's ability to speak had been swiped out from under her, the mere act of trying to form a sound now rendered totally impossible.

"I think it's time for me to properly introduce myself to you, Natsume-san. My name is Akira Hiiragi, but you might know me under a different name; Painmaker." Finally able to ditch the act he had gracefully been playing, Painmaker rolled his shoulders, several chains slowly slinking out of his back. "Don't worry about what's happened to you, it is simply nature taking its course. The body never reacts nicely to poison."

Poison… She had been poisoned… But how?! And what kind of poison?! It was a painful effort, but Natsume barely was able to crank her stiff eyes over to the side where her drink sat. Every dumbass in the world could now figure out where it had come from, but her eyes were unable to linger on it for even a second.

Painmaker had returned to the seat in front of her, now dragging it even closer than he had during the fake conversation they'd been having. Natsume wanted to scream her head off as soon as one of his gloved hands started to grab her face, thumb moving across her chin. "Look what you made me do to you, if you had left well enough alone then you could've lived on freely. Instead, your tenacity will spell the doom of your entire family. I'm sorry, but nobody is allowed to leave my sight alive unless I consider them useful enough."

Natsume's whole body shook, not out of command, but out of what felt like the liquidation of her organs. The froth at the corners of her mouth continued to build up like they were a geyser, spewing little bits of foam on the floor as every process within continued to shut down.

"Let me show you something your brother did to me." Painmaker removed one of his gloves, revealing the large, purple, and disgusting burn mark that tainted his left hand. "His Quirk might have been shitty, but potent it indeed was. When you meet him again, tell him that he earned my respect for his tenacity. Regardless, he fell to his fate all the same."

What Natsume wouldn't have given to just be afflicted with that alone. Instead, she could feel her eyes starting to roll into the back of her head, the poison nearly reaching its destructive apex as all she could think about was the agony.

Painmaker leaned in, his face now so close that one couldn't slip a piece of paper between them. The lurid smile on his face betrayed the utter sadistic pleasure he took in watching a young girl, with her whole life ahead of her, die before his eyes. "I normally prefer the carnal pleasure of ripping the muscle from the bone, tearing skin and cartilage apart. However, I would be remised if I didn't try to expand my horizons, so to speak. Traditional methods would have done the job quicker, yes. However, I'm in no real rush. I have eternity to know your flesh."

Placing his gloved hand over her mouth, Painmaker knew it wouldn't accelerate the death, but he could scarcely pass up the ability to further drive the helplessness in further. Had he tried it when she was lucid, he quite rightly would have been raked across the coals.

"You have no mouth and yet you must scream, I would apologise but I don't feel enough for you to cry. Don't take this personally, though, you were never in control of this situation. I just had to tie up any loose ends that were coming my way." The Prince of Pain cooed, removing his glove and wiping it down across his leather robe. While disgusting, it was so much better than having to clean out massive swathes of blood.

'Kenta… Haru… I'm sorry…' Those were the last words that were able to race through Natsume's mind before it all went to black. The names of her brothers, one that had been stolen from her by this monster in human clothing, and the one that she had wanted to reconnect with over all these years… At least they were with her in her final moments.

With one final choke and gasp for air, Natsume's body was finally released from the stasis prison the poison had claimed dominion over. Painmaker was now all alone once more, the familiar scene of someone dead at his feet accompanied by the same sadistic smile as before.

If you believed yours was the only way, then you were the fool that lived to die.

A rather simple summation of life. It didn't hold the same level of gravitas as Flashfire's "If you stand silent over my head, I'll crush necks under my boot," nor did it speak the sheer narcissism of Osprey's "Ad Majora natus sum." One could argue that compared to those two, Painmaker's favourite turn of phrase simply didn't reach the peak of the mountain.

However, did it really need to?

Flashfire and Osprey were not he, nor were they him. All three of them were cut from a different cloth that had long stopped production, each going from undesirable wastes of space to undeniable soldiers of the Exalted One. Painmaker didn't need some grand philosophy to know that, all he needed was knowledge of objective truth; that they were simply better than everyone.

From high above, perched atop his mountain of omnipotence, it was Painmaker and Painmaker alone that held the scales of fate in his hands. How those scales would sway would forever be his jurisdiction alone, the tiniest flick of his finger owning the ability to send shockwaves in the deeply deterministic whims of fate.

Once upon a time, this bar had been a safe haven for some of the worst villains in history. Tomura Shigaraki, Touya Todoroki, All For One, Himiko Toga, and the whole Meta Liberation Front were all said to have crossed this place once upon a time. Plotting their takeover of society, where they would all burn it to the ground because of silly little things like revenge, trauma, and grief. What a bunch of guileless fools.

Now, it was going up in flames. Shame really, the bar section wasn't that bad and Painmaker rather liked the work he had put in to make it presentable. Although the rest of the building was a hazard that nightmares were made out of, he had half expected Natsume to fall there before ever meeting him.

As he dragged the body of said person out of the building, her face forever stuck in unadulterated terror, he walked over to the side of the building and reached out for the contingency plan he had created before stepping foot into the building.

Usually, this would have been Flashfire's job. Incinerating every last bit of evidence before they made their getaway into the night with nothing to trace back to them, but with his boyfriend's absence, Painmaker had had to improvise.

The improvisation had come in the form of fuel canisters being stationed at the side of the building, which he soon took to pouring all over the floor of the bar, the entranceway, and around the whole building itself. A lit match soon worked its way into his hands as he stood ready to light the fire.

Interpreting the will of the Exalted One was never an easy task. In the best of times, it often came down to having to assume the opposite of what he was telling you was true. In the worst of times, it came down to just ignoring the order outright and risking retribution for intransigence unless you somehow managed to luck into the solution.

Painmaker never claimed to be an expert at either, no matter the vibe he would give off during their meetings. Of course, when you were surrounded by vacuous idiots it was easy to look like the smartest person in the room, anything less would've been a travesty of the highest order. His boyfriend also got out of it scot-free more often than not, on account of his silence being attributed as understanding.

True to form, his task was… It was unique, in the simplest possible terms. No amount of flipping through the scribbles in his notebook would tell him an experience of it before, almost like the Exalted One had gone out on a limb to purposefully fuck with him.

Flicking the match with callous disregard for the property damage he was going to cause, Painmaker watched as searing, orange flames began to tear up the decaying, old shithole before his very eyes. It wasn't as beautiful as his boyfriend's destruction, but his blue eyes were satisfied with the symphony of fire that played out before them.

Soon, there would be nothing left but ash, and no trace he had crossed this place at all. Honestly, it was scary just how well he could cover his tracks, experience remained the greatest teacher in the world. Never again would he repeat the mistake of his First Sacrament, even if those events had led him down this wonderful path in the first place.

There would be none of the traditional Inner Circle messaging this time, business and private life never crossed paths for Painmaker. This was a personal job he needed to get out of the way, and he was glad that the Exalted One allowed him to get rid of another stone in his path.

He closed his eyes as he felt the heat from the fire warm up his cold body, the chains he commanded syphoning everything towards his core. Comparisons to his dearly beloved were not apt here, but it did the world of good. Surrounded by death for so long… It made everyone feel so, so cold.

A squawk erupted from behind Painmaker, starling the man into a defensive position. Had someone seen him do all of this after all? Some fucking Heroes did have bird Quirks, after all, was one of them a hawk? Some kind of Eagle? The chains in his back rattled, once more leading his skin to wriggle like the reflective scales of a snake.

Every step he took to turn around was cautious, Heroes were known to be sneaky in dark places like this. Away from the bright lights and paparazzi, one was allowed to do anything so long as they were never caught. The Hero Killer had recognised that fact, and since him, it had only been dug deeper into the collective public consciousness.

However, what he was met with was not what he expected. There was no towering Hero that he would have to fight to the death with. Instead, a simple visitor presented itself to him, perched atop the marble bust of the Goddess Athena on the building next to him.

Said visitor was a raven, no less and nothing more.

"Ah, yes. You've flown in from night's Plutonian shore, no? Tell me, are you bird or devil?" Keh, talking to a bird… What had his life devolved to? Going from the highest of highs, setting the benchmark at the top of everything he ever did, only to now be holding deep philosophical conversation with a raven.

A raven that soon perched itself on his shoulders, head flicking all over the place, but the wings pressed rigidly to its back. In fact, it looked like it belonged there. As if it had always been at Painmaker's side from birth and was more than at home on the Prince of Pain.

Of course, even in a world defined by animals with Quirks, not all of them could luck out in the genetic lottery. It would have been quite amusing to Painmaker if this bird could talk back to him, harkening on the old Gothic poetry he used to read as a child. Alas, that was simply never going to be.

"Prophet still, if bird or devil. Tell me, have those radiant and illustrious angels heard of the name Natsume?" The raven looked at him, those beady black eyes almost regarding him like he was a fool for asking that question. That he was supposed to know how inane that statement was at the squawk he received. "Little one, it's only a simple question. I wish to know if her flame has been extinguished evermore."

Once upon a time, he had written about guiding lights and burning flames. The nickname for him and Yoshihito, The Authors of Pain, hadn't come from nowhere after all. His work had been as esoteric as one would expect from him, yet one he could hold all to his own heart in perfect understanding, even if everyone else had to read his work with utter confusion.

"Tell that God Yoshi adores, should He see that soul pass him by to grant them ultimate mercy. They've done no wrong, only what they could." Those coal-black eyes begat nothing more than the gaze of a demon's inner machinations and sordid dreams. A soul he knew all too well being reflected at him. "She is not one of my offerings to Him. Hers was a sacred slaughter to yours truly." Nevertheless, his tone remained even and calm, never once was it raised.

Another squawk, Painmaker liked to imagine the raven really was speaking to him. An almost childish view of that matter, all things being considered. However, the idea of even talking to animals wasn't taken seriously for centuries before Quirks, would you blame him for wanting to test the waters a little bit?

"You don't have a name, do you?" Once more the raven squawked, definitely understanding what was being told to it. "I think I'll call you Munin then, it fits you." Painmaker replied with a smirk, casually now retreating his gaze from his new friend back to the object that had initiated this conversation.

Now, what was he going to do with this body? This ghastly, broken form he had created with just a little drop of poison. Cantarella was the name, a particularly potent brew in the right hands. Being able to kill and leave no trace of its existence was no small feat, an invisible killer in its purest form.

Poking at the body, its name didn't matter anymore, with his foot, Painmaker sighed. He didn't have Flashfire to assist in the clean-up, scattering the ashes into the wind to fully erase the scene of his crime.

In this case, he was all alone, striking up a conversation with a raven to prevent himself from diving further into madness. Not like he wasn't mad already. "What do you think, Munin? Want to help me drag her to her final resting place? She deserves only the most graceful rest."

The raven cawed, head cracking over behind it to the darkness that covered the alleyway behind them. The implication more than clear. "Really? What Devil spat you out on this planet?" Painmaker responded, mirth peppering his words as he began to drag the corpse through the street. "As much as I would like to, all women deserve a graceful death and a graceful rest. It's the least I owe those pigs."

For that was the absolute truth, that he could no longer deny.

From high on his mountain of omnipotence, he could admit that to himself.

This poor, fair maiden with hair so rare and radiant that had the misfortune of crossing his path… He had killed her in cold blood for no good reason, his eyes holding heavy over the scene. Only because her eyes could reflect the light no longer.

Oh well, nothing that could be done now.

A wondrous name would be heard…

Nevermore.

"Dear, Adachi Hinata-san, Akane Hinata-san. Or however, you wish to be called, be sure to tell that to my face when we finally meet.

Now, I'll clear up a few things first. You don't know me, but I know you. You may be wondering why, in a world like the one we live in, I am choosing to send you a letter of all things. I supposed, mainly, that if you saw the physical evidence of its existence, you simply couldn't ignore it any further.

But that's not for me to assuage from you. I don't like trying to act like I'm some kind of mind reader when it's really just human nature in motion in front of me. Then again, my assumptions are usually proven correct, so who knows? Not me.

You may, by now, have noticed two departures from your family that have yet to arrive back. I want to make this next statement very clear as a result, to make sure lines are not crossed and my motives are not mudded.

I killed them.

In your son's case, I ripped his life straight from his body. You do know the heart continues to pump the residues of blood it was circulating whenever it's pulled from the chest, right? Then, my partner and I burnt him beyond recognition, casting his soul into the abyss and making him die as a dirty, faceless corpse covered in cleansing fire.

His Quirk? A pittance really, it's not like you need Quirks when it's two on one, do you? Fighting technique and spirit only gets you so far when time and numbers have forsaken your favour for a cruel tirade.

As for your daughter, that was a much more… Enjoyable case. For one, I didn't have to change out of my clothes and spend hours washing my hair. Do you understand what a pain blood is when it dries? I have to spend half my savings on conditioning, for Christ's sake!

Regardless, your daughter was so desperate for answers. So… Willing to go along with everything that I asked her to do. I ask her to follow me to a shady, run-down bar? She does it. I ask her if she wants a drink? She says yes, taking a glass of wine because I told her it was fine. I ask her if she wants to live forever? Now… That's where the lines start to get blurred.

In the end, she knows nothing more about me in her dying moments than you do right now. Isn't it sad? How such a burning flame, a bright candle flicking and flowing with the wind of life, was exterminated, snuffed out within a few short seconds? Oh well, I guess.

At the end of the day, that should not concern you, though. My job is not yet complete. Please, understand that this is nothing personal, it's just business at the end of the day. I can count on one hand the rest of the sacraments I need.

Whenever the 16th one is complete, I'll write to you again. I would recommend your last remaining light be safeguarded because you want to know if I have a single drop of empathy in my body?

You tell me.

Till you reach the other side,

The Cold Man."

A/N: So, yeah. Another chapter down on the list, this time focusing in on some of the villains in the story. More continues to be built, because throwing new ideas at the wall and seeing if they stick seems to be my only talent. Either way, this marks one of the only times I actually got two chapters done in two months. Hope you liked it, because I finally got a job and it might eat into my time to write.

Hope you all enjoyed this chapter, and I'll see ya next time.