"So... The warrior finally found someone he loved after centuries of wandering on Earth?"

"That's right." – Her father replied, while she helped to pack the books and parchments of the clan's library. They were moving to another home.

"He fought to protect her and her village during a time of conflict in the Iron Hills. It was there, during the front lines, that he encountered a creature who was fascinated by our ancestor, whom he saw being killed but then revived. Our ancestor then discovered that the war was being caused by the evil creature called "Nine-Tails" or "Kyuubi".

"You mean... Li-like the fox that attacked the village?"

"That's right. That fox is the same one that attacked our village."

The little girl swallows hard.

"I don't like this, Daddy." - She says, hugging herself.

Her father sighs, picking her up.

"I know baby. The fox did many bad things. Including our ancestor."

"Oh, no! What did the fox do?" - She exclaimed, green eyes staring at her father in alarm.

"The Warrior made a deal with the fox: that if he stopped the war, the Warrior would let him consume all the pain our ancestor had. Our ancestor thought that, as the fox fed on bad emotions, it would be a way to accomplish the mission that the Shinigami had told him. But foxes are smart and soon It was realized that our ancestor couldn't die while he was in all that pain; so, despite having stopped the war and fulfilled his part of the bargain, the fox indirectly caused the death of all those our ancestor loved..."

"No, Daddy! I don't want to hear anymore!" – She screamed, tears in her eyes, shaking her head.

The man, surprised and compassionate, placed a kiss on the top of her head.

" We can continue the story another, dear."


She had nightmares of black-eyed red foxes after that; foxes that had blood on their teeth and piles of bodies surrounding It, while she stood there helplessly.

She never thought she'd have to hear about fox spirits like Ayla Lahey.

Unfortunately, she was wrong.


It's hard to keep her twin out of trouble without being noticed. He and his pack were always getting into complicated things. It was a surprise when she found out that the Derek guy was the same Derek Hale she thought had died in the fire and even more of a surprise when she learned about all the other things that had happened in the previous year – like Peter killing Laura and becoming alpha, killing those responsible for the fire. No wonder the Argent family seemed to be on a personal journey to end every supernatural creature.

She did what she could to minimize casualties, using techniques of illusion and mental confusion to attack threats to her brother's life without being seen or remembered. For the most part, it worked. She was glad she only had to deal with the hunters, although Gerard was a pain in the ass to stay out of sight – the old man was very perceptive. In the end, her brother, his pack, and reluctant allies (in the form of Scott, Stiles, and Alisson) managed to reverse the Kanima's situation from the spoiled brat with the help of Lydia. Ayla has a slight suspicion that the redhead might not be all that human, as she had heard about the girl's bite and Max had always told her that no one was immune.

It's a delicate balance she has to strike between being as normal as possible (normal for her, the genius girl of Beacon Hills), working, keeping an eye on her brother and his troublesome pack, and gathering information from the supernatural world and the underworld. Fortunately, she had her clones, and it was relatively easy to assume the guise of a Beacon Hills dealer or two and access their operations. The increase in successes in narcotics operations and illegal weapons seizures because of her information was a bonus. Ayla would always serve her home in some way; it doesn't matter if it was her village in her previous life, as a child soldier, or if she went as an anonymous informant to Beacon Hills.

With Max shielding her and keeping her and Isaac out of the orphanage (after all, like it or not, they were still underage), things were going relatively well.

There was one annoying situation though. Nothing in this world was a real threat. Not a problem of the same proportions as her past life where she had to worry about literal gods trying to wipe out the human race. If she'd survived a self-proclaimed goddess, two wars, demons, a few psychopath freaks, including a scientist who experimented on humans and another who turned into a puppet... well, let's just say a pack of alphas were mere inconveniences in comparison.

But It was unpleasant. Somehow, not only did they know about Derek and the possible future alpha named Scott McCall (Max seemed pretty impressed with the true alpha thing, apparently it was quite rare), they also knew about Max.

"These arrogant idiots broke into my apartment yesterday. We'll give you until the end of the week, blah-blah-blah, I'm the alpha of alphas, how scary. The nerve." - Max comments, exasperated. The pack invited him, and Ayla got stones in her stomach.

"Are you... um... going to accept?" – She asks, picking at her fingernails with calculated disinterest. –

"I mean, everyone here thinks you're the lone alpha and they're a pack of alphas..."

"Well then. It's time to let them know I'm not the lone alpha anymore."

When they go to the building the alpha pack told Max to go to, they look so sure he's going to take it or die. She watches the pack until Deucalion, noticing Max's refusal, orders the others to attack him. That's when she makes herself known; a mere blur of the figure, while attacking and immobilizing all alphas except Deucalion in a few seconds. They are all immobilized, the Kanima venom that Ayla carefully worked into a kunai, shallow cuts to the back of their necks, but effective all the same.

"Your pack of alphas doesn't measure up to my cute beta."

Max smiles smugly and then turns serious again.

"I know what the rumors say: that you murdered your own pack in pursuit of power. See this?" - He points to his police badge. – "This is not just for decoration. Give me one reason, one, and I'll hunt you down like I would any outlaw. I don't give a shit who you're trying to recruit, but if you shed blood here in this city, justice will come for you."

Ayla stands beside the federal agent, under the illusion of a girl with pink hair and green eyes, staring at Deucalion. The man stares back at her with curiosity and caution, even though he is blind, he knows where she is.

"Give your message, impossible brat. I'll wait for you outside." - Max says, leaving her alone with the werewolves.

"Do you think you can stand up to me?" - He says calmly, despite thinking he knew what she was capable of. Heavens, she wants to laugh, but that would be disrespectful to her opponent and she was never one to mock or belittle anyone.

She doesn't even move from her place; instead, letting the chakra within circulate through her veins, until the air around her is almost like electrical energy, crackling not with sparks of electricity, but something black and soon becomes a dense mass of shadows around her. It's almost alive; it's her killing intent manifested through chakra, a pure rush of bloodlust.

"I can kill you. Here and now. Easy. Maybe I should?" – It's what vibrates in every rippling black shadow and even the "great alpha" can't move, fear flooding every fiber of his being. There it was, a murderous intent that didn't seem to be made out of pure hatred, but an indifference that gave you the shivers; as a power which, if released, would consume everything and everyone not because it took pleasure in it but because it could.

He saw, in his mind, being killed by her. More than once. In many ways. Without being able to do anything but watch. When she finally stops, he's on his knees, struggling for breath.

"Max is a federal agent. His duty is to protect the citizens and he won't think twice about arresting you if he has any evidence that you or your pack are going to harm someone. He acts by law. But I don't care what you do as long as you stay away from the kids. You already have more than enough of them in your pack." – Ayla says, looking at the twins.

"Oh. And about me..." - She puts her hand to her lips, in the form of a secret, and then disappears, right before their eyes.


"Pink hair? Really? Where did that appearance come from?"

"Mn, funny you should ask. Actually... I used to be like that. In my past life."

"Your what?"

Ayla realizes that Max has become like a family to her. Then she tells - about how she had memories of her previous life, her clan, the myth of the "Ouroboros" and how she was stuck in that life until she found a way to purge her pain.

"Show me." - He asks, extending his hand to her. Ayla bites her lip. She had learned not to let the pain "leak" after what Jennifer said, and she was afraid of what that might do to Max.

"Please, Ayla. You're not alone - memories of another life or not, you're still my lovely beta."

She smiles and takes her hand, allowing him to take some of her pain away.

For the first time, she is ready to allow herself to have the pain eased, if only a little. When he starts to look weak, she stops, worried.

"How can you live with so much pain?" - He asks when he regains his strength, looking at her with compassion.

"I don't know."


She plans to remain mostly out of sight; her brother hides things from her, but she can't complain – not when she hides so much more. The "alpha issue" and the "Darach" is mostly resolved by her and Scott's sibling pack. Fortunately, none of them were harmed, and she was pretty sure that was due to her threat. When Kali tried to go against that particular warning and "retaliate" against Derek for Ennis's death, her standby clone stepped in, helping Derek, Isaac, Boyd, and Cora. She was grateful for her paranoia for creating a clone every three hours to check on her brother.

Max arrived not long after she called to let him know what was going on, and it was at a good time because she was sure Scott's human friends were going to end up being held hostage if the cop wasn't in the area or that the twins were going to hurt Boyd, maybe even kill him. After this event, Boyd made the sensible decision to move out of town with his family.

Ayla also implied that Kali was seeking revenge on the wrong person and Deucalion himself had killed Ennis. Although, in her defense, she only did that to get the woman to leave the Beacon Hills packs alone, and she didn't think the alpha was going to be dumb enough to stand up to Deucalion on that charge alone and end up dead at the alpha's hands.

Anyway, everything ended well. Scott became a true alpha, Derek lost the alpha status thanks to giving his power to heal Cora - who Julia (or Jennifer Blake, as she called herself) had poisoned - and Deucalion was well and truly arrested by Max for the murder of Julia Baccari, which arrived at the exact moment the werewolf was murdering the "Darach".

"Bon voyage." - She thinks when the FBI shows up to arrest the guy in a special prison due to his werewolf status. Now, her brother would probably have peace – well, as much peace as they could get, they all walked uneasily with the mysterious pink-haired woman who vanished into thin air.

Now, the last loose end was the twins. Those were... well, they were an unplanned asset. The alpha pack twins stay in town and beg Max to accept them into the pack.

"Under some conditions." – The man relents after Ayla says it might be a good idea. "First: no murders. Or attempt of murder. You're lucky Boyd didn't officially press charges, but I know what I saw when I got to that loft."- The alpha says narrowing his eyes.

"Second: no trouble making. Third: you will protect the most troubled little group of teenagers in this town. And yes, that means McCall and his pack."

"You're kidding, right? He hates us!" – Aiden says and Ayla raises her eyebrow.

"Geez, I can't see why, you're so adorable."- She comments with sarcasm. The werewolf snarls and when she smiles predatorily in response, he flinches. He still remembers very well the evil energy he felt the day even Deucalion bowed to this woman.

"But Aiden's right." – Ethan says, conciliatory. – "How are we going to protect them if they hate us?"

"It's simple. You will gain their trust; approach Scott, and say you want to join the pack. Go back to school, do whatever it takes. Who knows, it might even be good for you." – Ayla says, shrugging.

"This is crazy." – He says, looking at his brother and then between Max and Ayla. The federal agent shakes his head.

"Come on, boys. Want a pack? Be our informant inside the school, heaven knows a million things happen there. Take it or leave it."

The twins look at each other.

"Fine. We'll do It."


"Now that we're pack… what's your name? And what the hell are you?" Ethan asks.

"Call me Haru." – Max hardly called her by her name, just 'impossible brat', 'little genius', etc. – "As for what I am..."

Ayla shrugs.

"I don't think there's a name for what I am."


With Scott, Stiles, and Alisson's sacrifice empowering the Nemeton, she's sure sending the twins to school to watch over her brother and his pack was a good decision. Sadly Derek didn't last long as an alpha, but Ayla admits she'd prefer McCall as her brother's alpha over Hale any day. Isaac was much less likely to become a killer with Scott than he was with Derek. The blood on her hands was enough in the family; she would hate if her kind, good-hearted brother to carry that burden.

Speaking of those three, one, in particular, had become – kind of – a friend, or so she thought. Several times, Ayla would go to the police station to bring Max lunch or a snack, and it became known that she was the man's adopted daughter of sorts. She went on to chat with the staff at the station, including the sheriff, who she had the impression was mildly impressed with the information and insights she provided during cases.

"Are you sure you took the right course? God, I thought Max was a little crazy when he said a teenage girl could help the police, but he was right."

She smiles, a little shyly.

"Don't inflate her ego; the girl doesn't have any friends to put some humility in her." - Max comments, a touch of scolding and concern in his tone.

"Rude. I have friends. I'm among them now, right Parrish? Tara?" – She says, to the new police officer, who smiles and then replies:

"Sure. But Mr. Campbell has a point, you really should expand your circle of friends."

"Preferably some your age." – The woman adds with a pointed look at the youngest, all big sister vibes. Ayla opens her mouth in indignation.

"Traitors. I'll remember that the next time I don't bring donuts." - She mutters and they laugh.

"But seriously… You know, it might not be a bad idea." - The sheriff says, smiling kindly.

"No matter how precocious you are, having one or two friends your age would do you good. I think you would get along well with my son..."

"Woah, calm down, Sheriff; boys near her? I don't think it's a good idea." – Max interferes, half-jokingly, half protectively, and Ayla snorts, laughing at his fatherly behavior.

"If he knew that 'Alan' had men and women around how crazy would he be?"

"Not like that, Max." – The sheriff rolls his eyes and then speaks to Ayla again. – "Just think about it. You must have seen him around the police station, I can't keep him away, just like Max can't keep you away..."

"Excuse me?"

"...so, I don't know, you could try talking to him. You might be surprised at how many things you have in common."

She frowns, a little uncomfortable with the idea of making a friend. After Cora, she had no more reason to do another one – and the brief reunion they had was painful for her because Ayla had to alter Cora's memories so that she wouldn't recognize her as her childhood friend. Cora still has the memories, but Ayla's features and name become unknown.

But the anticipation on the older man's face is cute, and Ayla has a soft spot for nice people like the sheriff – after their first few hostile interactions (because she and Isaac were suspects in her father's murder) she realized that she liked the older Stilinski.

"I can give it a try." - She answers.

And the sheriff was right. She starts talking to Stiles more often and she enjoys his company. He's sarcastic, smart, funny, and likes a mental challenge. Often, they talk about cases or mythology – he blurts out a joke about werewolves, completely involuntarily and she finds it so funny how he tries to explain himself. Then she comments that she is also into mythology. This somehow leads to: "You have to play this game! Seriously, I keep trying to convince Scott, but he never tries."

So Stiles is kind of her friend. That's why she notices when he starts acting differently; it starts with his difficulties sleeping and, eventually, reading. He is more anxious than usual and seems to have memory lapses as if he has forgotten where he has been. She thinks it must be post-traumatic stress, what with the whole issue of her father being a Darach hostage.

Meanwhile, the ever so full of supernatural events of Beacon Hills surprises her once again with Malia Tate being a coyote transformed back to human form - information courtesy of Max. For everyone's sake, the federal agent decided to let it be known that he was aware of the supernatural world long before he came to Beacon Hills, and coming to the city was in part for reasons related to that. The sheriff looked pretty relieved that he wasn't the only cop with that kind of knowledge, and he was even more excited to see Max's bestiary.

Then began the masked hauntings that marked victims with a kanji for "I". She nearly had a heart attack when her clone informed her that Isaac had been attacked at the Huntress's house (and that was a bad, bad idea, but she wasn't going to get mixed up in her twin's bad love interest choices when her past life was an absolute disaster in the love department), but once she checked on her brother and Mark when he was sleeping, she was reassured.

These hauntings were Oni, she discovers, after recalling how she had seen a similar painting on the local yakuza building; Isaac really should have been more attentive to what he was talking about on the cell phone, but she was grateful for his inattention.


"Are you saying that demon ninja attacked you during the party?" – Max asks Aiden and Ethan. Ayla adds:

"They are Onis, Max."

"Shit."


"What the hell are Onis?" - Aiden asks, looking between the alpha and the strange young woman with pink hair.

"Onis are the physical manifestations of a kitsune's tails. Demons, otherwise known as fox spirits suck, I'll tell you. Anyway, for the Onis not to hurt and leave a mark like that - it's because they're looking for something."

"Not hurt? We almost froze to death." – Aiden says.

"What are they looking for?"- Ethan asks.

"I'm not sure, but…with the chaos that's been going on recently…I think it might be a Yako."

"Yako? I feel like this is familiar." – Ayla says, frowning thoughtfully.

"And why does your tone of voice say this is bad news?" – Aiden asks apprehensively.

"September 11th. Hitler. The black plague. Cholera. The fall of the Bastille... All of them had the influence of some Yako behind them. And that's just what I know; I'm sure many other events were the work of this type of fox. Yakos are perverse kitsune, unlike Zenko. The no-kill rule? Well, for that we are making an exception. There's nothing human about this thing, it's like a parasite that swallows the personality of the body it assumes and causes death wherever it goes, usually because it's fun, or whatever the fuck. If we were in the agency, this would be a national security issue, at the level of a terrorist attack. Depending on what kind of yako It is, I might report this to the FBI; they already have records of one or two cases like this."

"Shit. Demon ninjas suddenly seem like small problems." - Ethan speaks.

"Does the FBI know about us?"- Aiden frowns, confused.

Max snorts.

"Did you think the FBI doesn't know about supernatural creatures? In this century and with the technology we have?"

They look surprised and hesitant, before shrugging.

"Oh, now I know why it's so familiar. It had another name where I came from." - She says, turning paler than usual. The twins are more apprehensive when they smell anxiety coming from her because the mystery woman rarely seems disturbed by anything.

"Did you find one yet?"

She swallowed hard, nodding.

"Well, you're alive, so clearly there are ways to kill you before you kill us… isn't there?" – Aiden asks.

"No, you can't kill it. You capture, arrest, or survive it. They are vengeful spirits or literal demons sometimes. However, where I come from, a technique has been developed for sealing these beings, but it's tentative and I don't think you'll want to try that, Max. I don't want to try this. It might be our only option, though."

"What is this seal?" - He asks and she takes a deep breath, a painful expression on her face.

"These are kanji that constrain the spirit to a physical form. My village chose a host for the fox by marking the seal on the individual's abdomen or back. The spirit would then be attracted like a magnet and be trapped inside the person. Until the seal weakened or the host died."

"Doesn't look so bad." - Ethan comments.

"It is. Not everyone survives the sealing; those that survived might go mad in a few months and then the seal would weaken again, forcing the village to choose another host. Those who survive and don't go mad usually have their life reduced and die after 10 or 15 years of sealing."

"I take that back, it sounds bad." Aiden says.

"That's not the worst part…" - She bites her lip, crossing her arms. - "The hosts have to be children up to 12 years old. They have higher survival rates."

A heavy silence ensues as Max runs a hand through his hair and shakes his head, disturbed by the information.

"Fuck, that's vile even for us." - Aiden declares, looking at her judgmentally. – "Where are you from?"

Ayla sighs.

"It is complicated."

"We will not do this. There has to be another way."

Ayla is silent, not knowing what else to say to help. Max tells the twins to keep an eye on the teenagers at school, and when they leave, he is left alone with Ayla.

He looks at her like he wants to ask something but isn't sure he wants to know.

"Ayla, I know you don't like to talk about your past life, but... do you... um... do you want to talk about it?"

She bites her lip, laying her hand over her heart and lightly scratching it, two habits Max noticed she only did when she was nervous.

"Remember how I said I was a warrior in my past life?"

" Yes. You said it was part of the family tradition; that your ancestor who started the Ouroboros cycle was also a warrior. Although, you haven't told much more than that." – He says and quickly adds – "And it's okay if you don't want to. I will not pressure you."

"Max…I…I have a lot of blood on my hands."

The man stiffens before sighing.

"It's not like you're a killer who took lives for fun. You were a soldier; you were following orders. There's a big difference, Ayla."

"I may never have had fun killing, Max, but I'm a killer. I-I did things..."

She took a deep, shaky breath, putting her hands to her face.

"You have to understand, Max, that was a different world. It was... it was relentless. It didn't have the same technologies, nor the same values, and life expectancy wasn't very high with all the conflicts that boiled around at all times. The closest thing I can think of to compare it to is feudal Japan, with the shogunate in place. It was a necessity and a great honor to be part of the military ranks and we start the training early, but at the end of the day, we were glorified assassins. Infiltration, espionage, seduction... nothing was off limits, Max. Nothing. I - I don't want to do that again, ever again, not even to stop a demon."

" How old were you?" – Max asks, after a long, sharp silence in which she can't meet his eyes.

"What?" – She looks at him. He had a carefully neutral, unreadable expression.

"You said the training started early. How old were you when you started being an active agent?"

"T-twelve. I was twelve years old. The training period starts at the age of six and we spent six years under guidance in Military Academies that taught us everything from combat tactics to war strategy and more... orthodox techniques."

His face didn't have the disgust she'd expected; no, there was only fatherly alarm and pity.

"Stop. Please stop looking at me like I'm a victim. Don't feel sorry for me, Max. I do not deserve this."

"You were a child."

"I killed children! It doesn't matter that they were orders, and we were at war, I... these hands... these hands..."

He held up his shaking hands.

"Not these hands, Ayla. These ..." - He kisses one of her hands, with sad and fatherly eyes. –"They are the hands of a 16-year-old girl, bright, protective, loyal, kind, and lovely. They are the hands of a girl I love like my own daughter."

She sobs, looking at him with despair, and whispers:

"How can you love me knowing all the horrible things I've done? What am I capable of?"

"Because you're not that woman anymore, Ayla. It's time to forgive yourself."

She wants to tell that she wasn't so bright or adorable. Even in this life, she is a killer. She doesn't, though, because she knows she's going to lose him because he would need to arrest her if she made the confession and that would ruin them both.

"I don't know if I can."


She goes home after Max gives her a long hug and tells her that no matter what she had done in her past, he would still love her.

It's comforting. She wants to think of something, anything, that could serve as a solution to the big problem called "Yako".

And that's when she gets an idea.

The next day, she texts Max, over the first bite of her bagel and eggs and sip of coffee with lots of sugar and milk.

"I think there's a way to subdue Yako in a way that causes as few deaths as possible."

"That's great, Ayla! What's your idea?"

"What do you know about the power of a name?"


Ayla got home from work at 4 pm and a few times a month she volunteered at the Beacon Hills hospital – in the end, even though she didn't want to be the doctor losing the patient, being at the hospital helping would always be in her heart. That day she was leaving the burn children's ward when she saw Stiles leaving the room.

"Stiles?" - She calls and he turns and looks at her, smiling.

"Hey, Ayla. What's up? You're not hurt or sick, are you?"

"No, I'm not. It's just that sometimes I volunteer at the hospital. And you? Did something happen? You look..."

"Pale, tired, thin." - She thinks and bites her lips, worried. Stiles gives a self-deprecating smile on the side.

" I know, I know. I look like the living dead. And not the vampy, Shandosme type, either." – He starts to walk and she follows him; an odd sensation runs through her as she walks beside him, and she shivers at how cold he feels and how his chakra feels... different. Erratic, not like the Stiles she knew.

"There's something seriously wrong with his chakra." - She thinks; because even though the rest of the people couldn't access their chakras as she could, each individual still had them and she happened to be pretty decent at identifying the presences and health status of people in this world by chakra. The hall was oddly deserted in that part, she notes.

"Hey, Stiles…" - She starts to say, about to ask how he's really doing when a movement out of the corner of her eye in the hall makes her go defensive: an Oni. Even though Max said they were looking for a yako, she was still too paranoid to simply let herself be subjected to his judgment; besides, oni were controlled by a kitsune and foxes were unpredictable – what if It changed Its mind about branding and started killing indiscriminately?

"No!" - She pulls him behind her, out of the way of the two Onis, like a human shield if necessary, barely noticing the strange feeling when touching Stiles, too focused on observing the enemy and picking her hidden tanto . One of the Oni attacks her with a sword materializing from shadows and she blocks with the Oni's somewhat, steady stance and unrivaled strength. She turns to look briefly at Stiles and fleetingly thinks of how calculating his expression looks, but she dismisses that for another moment.

"Get out of here!" – She says, and the other Oni attacks her, cutting her hip. Anyone else would have hissed in pain, but her pain tolerance was much higher than normal. Besides, now both Onis were in contact with her and that was exactly what she wanted, the seal she had painted earlier burning into her skin.

"Get out now, Stiles!"

The teenager nods, running and she is relieved, focusing entirely on the figures in front of her, grinning wildly as the one with the sword on her hip tries to go after the Stilinski, failing.

"You're not going anywhere. You're anchored to me for a while." – She says, pulling up the sleeve of her blouse, her forearm a profusion of kanji glowing like flames. They would stay within 15 meters of her at most. She would like to heal herself, but she couldn't concentrate as the Onis attacked with a renewed will, and she dodged and blocked with her two as many as she could. The three figures would make an odd sight, like flashes of shadow attacking each other at a speed human eyes couldn't keep up with.

"I won't make it until dawn. Not without someone seeing. Damn it, I'm going to have to delete the recordings from the camera." - She thinks angrily, kicking one of them with refined chakra, only for a few seconds later it to come back. Hearing footsteps and a female scream, she saw an employee enter the hallway and run, presumably to call security.

"No, no, no. Shit!" - She gritted her teeth, the decision to go unnoticed no longer an option. The best way to end this without causing more of an uproar was...

She clicks her tongue and drops the swords, hands up, warily watching the two Onis pause in their attacks and then, quickly, one approaches her and grabs her neck roughly, looking into her eyes.

"Ayla!" – She heard in the distance, two voices calling her, but all she could do was stay still and let that thing probe the depths of her soul; the memories flooding her mind, and with each new memory, the emotions she felt back then.

A little girl and her best friend, breaking up over a stupid, stupid childhood crush.

The day she graduated from the Military Academy, she was all naive twelve years old, thinking she would be a hero, full of dreams and hopes.

Her first mission, where she and her two teammates and the captain had to do all the work because she was a weak little girl, a deadweight, a paper ninja. Theory and good grades were worthless on the battlefield.

The desertion of her comrade, of the boy she loved.

The rest of her team being dismantled, the loneliness, the will to be better, stronger.

Training; her mentor, mother figure to her.

The first time she killed someone and the first time she saved someone.

War, chaos, blood, death, a literal goddess trying and nearly succeeding in wiping out all of humanity in her world, held back by her and her teammates gathered like phoenixes from the ashes.

The period of mourning; her marriage; becoming the youngest head of the hospital since her own mentor; the birth of her daughter, her little miracle.

Another war.

Her death, at the hands of the same enemy that killed her little girl, her husband, her best friend, and everyone she loved, but not before her. No, she'd had to wait years for that comfort. Because frontline doctors would always be the last to die, and she was too good at surviving.

Her rebirth.

Pain, pain, pain.

A raw, primal scream rips from her throat, her lungs feeling like they're being compressed and preventing her from breathing properly, her heart aching and she wants to claw at it, feeling tears at the edges of her eyes.

So cold. A chill burned and made her teeth chatter; the edges of her vision blurred and she fell to the ground, the last vision she had was of Scott and Stiles running towards her.


And all the while a pair of whiskey-brown eyes watched her with a fascinated, curious expression. That brief moment of contact when she'd pushed him away from the Oni was enough for him to know that this tiny human had a whole source of pain, something so enormous it made him run his tongue over his lips hungrily.

He runs a finger down her forearm when Scott isn't looking, discreetly tasting the waves of pain she releases.

Until he met her, he could divide his meals into two ways: the taste of physical pain, something warm, and the taste of bitter herbs. Then there was the emotional pain, usually associated with grief, much more palatable: cold and sweet, like what humans compared to dessert – and which, honestly, had been his addiction all along. But that was before he tastes her pain.

It's a wonderful, unique flavor, so rich and complex, far more interesting than any pain he's ever devoured, because it's not just pain. There's much, much more.

First came the pain: it was something hot and citrusy, flowing through her veins quickly and leaving a pleasant burn in his throat. Like a hot drink on a cold day.

Then, right after, a spicy touch of fury and revolt causes a slight dryness in his mouth, which is slowly softened by a refreshing minty taste of guilt and sadness.

The last part is the best – it's dessert. It's creamy, icy, and bittersweet: self-loathing and hopelessness.

It's the best meal he's ever had the pleasure of eating.

He wants more.

He wants it all.


"... not kill her!" – She hears someone arguing. Ayla blinks, seeing an unfamiliar ceiling and her first instinct is to get up, but she is restrained: there is a rope tying her wrists and ankles.

"Hostile territory, enemy unknown! Captured after attack!" - She thinks, her heart racing and a spike of fear starting to form when she bites the inside of her cheek to calm herself.

"It's not a chakra suppressor, it's fine, it's fine." -She thinks, the fear dissipating when she realizes that she was in that world and not in her past life.

Ayla blinks fast at the ridiculousness of the situation. She could easily shake off those bonds, but then she glances over and sees a cluster of people in the living room.

Scott and Stiles she remembers seeing before passing out. She quickly catalogs the rest: Argent-possible-sister-in-law and Papa-Argent, ex-alpha twins, the wolf with leadership issues, Miss Popularity, and her little brother.

There is a lull in the discussion when she sits down and arranges herself as best she can on the couch, hands and feet bound. She quickly notices everyone on guard, Aiden and Ethan snarling, Derek's eyes intent on her every move, and Chris Argent sure moving his hand to where a gun was.

"Ayla?" – Isaac asks, taking a step towards her.

"Isaac." – The blonde answers and arches her eyebrow, looking sharply around, at her bonds and then at her twin brother. That was an expression she had perfected a lot in her past life, thanks to her teammates – the expression that said "What the absolute shit do you think you're doing?"

"I hope there's a good reason why I'm tied up in a house I don't know with you all giving me intimidating looks."

"How about, 'cause you are the Nogitsune!" - Aiden exclaims, going up, but retreating with a look from Scott:

"We don't know that." – The brunette then looks around at everyone. – "We don't know for sure."

"The symbol behind the ear looks pretty convincing to me." – Derek says seriously.

"Is someone going to explain what's going on?" - Ayla asks, her mind already assimilating that piece of information Derek said. She didn't know what kanji was engraved on her skin, but whatever it was, it made them believe she was the Nogitsune. She already had in mind how she was going to change that; it would be too complicated to be tied up and watched because they thought she was the Nogitsune. Even if it was very simple for her to just leave a clone in place.

When the silence remains, no one answering her, the redhead gives an exasperated sigh.

"This is ridiculous, isn't anyone going to say anything?" - Lydia says and everyone looks at Scott. He clears his throat and tries a friendly smile.

"What's the last thing you remember?" - Scott asked, gently, but cautiously.

"Being attacked by cosplay ninjas in the hospital... Stiles, are you okay?" - She stops, checking the teenager.

"Oh, I am. And you too. In fact, I would say too well for anyone who's had the hip, you know. Perforated." - Stiles gestured with an arched eyebrow and an expression that was a mixture of distrust and accusation.

"Uh. I must have instinctively regenerated while I was unconscious."

"Ayla. What are you?"- Isaac asks.


"It seems," - she thinks – "that this Waltz of Omissions is over".