A/N: Just a quick heads up, this chapter has been rewritten! It's still mostly the same, so it's not really necessary for you to reread this if you've read it the first time, although I do recommend it as I've added and changed a few things. I also cleaned up the text overall so it would flow better and be easier to read. With that said, have fun!

I've also cross-posted this on AO3 for those of you who prefer reading your fics on that site.

Hateful Words and Shattered Hearts

Silence.

That was the only thing that filled her ears. It was as if the gods themselves couldn't believe what just happened. The fires around her didn't crackle nor roar, even as they continued burning brightly, casting her surroundings in a warm orange glow. The ruble of the entertainment district didn't creak or groan, even as the few wooden buildings still left standing slowly began to fall, collapsing underneath their own weight once their burned and withered supports could no longer hold them, shattering against the ground with a mighty crash, kicking up clouds of ash, embers, and dust.

And yet… she couldn't hear any of it.

There was only silence.

The one thing she could somehow still hear, besides her uneven, panting breaths, were the few quiet thoughts in her head.

She just had one question—one which she asked herself again and again.

'How did this happen?'

When the sun had first set and the moon had risen to take its rightful place in the night sky—when daylight fell, replaced by the embrace of darkness' shadows, not once did she think things would turn out like this.

And yet, here she was, lying between ruined buildings with her head separated from her shoulders.

She had no idea where her body was—perhaps a distance away buried beneath a ton of rubble.

On its own? It wouldn't have been the end of the world. Naturally, the thought of her neck being severed by a demon slayer caused rage to well up inside her. To think that disgusting, pathetic humans could ever hope to decapitate her! Regardless, under normal circumstances, though annoying, it was something easily dealt with. She'd have found her body, reattached her head, and then she'd have torn whoever had dared think they could kill her to pieces, just like she'd done so many times before!

These, however, were far from normal circumstances. The reason why? Because lying on the ground right in front of her was a head. It was made up of sickly-looking skin colored a disgusting shade of green, a greasy mop of black hair with light green tips, sharp, horrid yellowed teeth, and eyes so putrid it made her want to vomit!

But it was a head she recognized all too well.

It was her brother's head, severed from his body just like hers was.

She could already feel the numbness—the cold embrace of death coming to take her as nothingness slowly but surely nibbled away at the edges of her flesh. It would only be a matter of time before she…

The mere thought of death scared her. As a demon, she'd never truly feared death. She'd never had a reason to, not like when she'd been human. Demons didn't need to eat; they could never starve. Dying of illness was of no concern either, and any wounds she may have received always healed in the blink of an eye as if she'd never been injured in the first place.

As a demon she'd always felt invincible! And with her brother by her side, they'd been unstoppable!

When the demon slayers came, she hadn't been worried. There had been setbacks, she wouldn't deny that, but in the end, she'd known they'd come out on top, and for a little while, it had seemed as if they really had.

The Hashira had been first. Her brother's poison had gotten to him; he'd been left lying in the middle of the street with a severed hand in a pool of his own blood.

The boar-headed idiot had been next. A sickle through the heart had put him down, and even if he'd somehow survived that, the lethal dose of poison had surely finished him off.

She'd taken care of the last two—the cross-dressing freak and the boy with the scar on his forehead. She'd pulverized the building they'd been standing on with her belts, burying one of them beneath the ruble, leaving him to writhe like the worm he was, while the other was knocked clear, alive, but

unconscious.

Just like that… the fight had been won.

Then it had all gone wrong.

And now she was going to die… and it was all her brother's fault!

"I can't believe you got beheaded by those two amateurs!" So when her brother, Gyutaro, began yelling at her and blaming her for the mess he put them in, she couldn't keep the snarl off her face.

"So you were watching after all!" she screamed. "Why didn't you save me then, huh?!"

It would have been so easy for him! Just a split second of his time and the two demon slayers that had cut off her head—that disgusting cross-dressing freak and the boar-headed savage—would have been nothing but smears of paste on the street!

"I was too busy battling a Hashira!" he shouted.

Did he think she was born yesterday?! It pissed her off! If he'd had time to watch her fight, then he'd had time to save her! And on top of that, he'd had plenty of opportunities to kill off the Hashira before he'd gotten back on his feet!

So why didn't he?!

"I don't care if you were!" she screamed. "You should have just finished him off when you had the chance! Why didn't you just split his head wide open?!"

"And I was about to—"

"Yeah, right!"

"—but that kid with the earrings was somehow still alive! So I figured I should kill him off first! Since you weren't doing a damn thing to help out, you should have finished off the Hashira!"

Daki felt her eye twitch. What was with that lame excuse?! For someone supposedly good at fighting, he sure as hell had no idea how to prioritize his targets! The redhead with the earrings was nothing but a pathetic weakling—just a worthless waste of space! He hadn't posed any threat to her brother, so why the hell had he focused on him instead of the one slayer who actually had a chance of killing him?! If he wanted to waste his time, then at the very least he could have made her kill the Hashira!

"Well, maybe you should have just controlled me so I could do that! But instead, you went and let your guard down, as usual!"

"Shut your mouth!" her brother roared. "If you're going to call yourself an Upper Rank, then you should at least be able to handle two wounded, low-level scrubs by yourself, you idiot!"

What the hell did he just call her?! "You're the only idiot here!"

"What'd you say?!" Gyutaro snapped back, his voice overwhelmed with fury.

There was a lull in the shouting as the both of them took deep, panting breaths, more due to instinct than any real need to breathe. She tried to hold it in, but eventually, her eyes brimmed with tears—tears of anger, shame, embarrassment, and hate.

She'd had enough…! And she'd let him know if it was the last thing she did!

"A hideous person like you," she began, her vision blurring from the tears, "couldn't possibly be my brother!" She felt satisfaction well up inside her at the look of shock on her brother's face.

"I mean, just look at you! I bet we're not even related by blood! Not with how ugly you are! And now you're useless! Your one saving grace is your strength and that's all you've ever had! You're completely useless if you end up losing, so you're just a worthless, ugly freak now!"

In the ensuing silence, she couldn't help but realize that she didn't feel as satisfied as she thought she would have. With her anger draining away, she felt oddly empty. It was a strange feeling, one she'd never experienced before. She didn't understand it. Why did she feel this way?

Her thoughts were interrupted by her brother, his face twisted with resentment.

"Don't give me that crap!" he screamed, the look on his face and the venom in his voice stunning her into silence. "If you were on your own, you'd have died years ago! How many times have I saved you?!"

'Huh…?' With that thought, something unpleasant began to pool in her gut.

"You're the worthless one and you know it!" he hissed. If she'd still had legs with which to hold her up, she knew they'd have gone limp. All she could do was stare disbelievingly as her brother continued screaming at her. "You're too weak to stand on your own two feet! I can't believe I wasted my entire life protecting someone as useless as you!

"If it hadn't been for you, maybe I would've done something with my life!" he screamed, the volume of his voice rising with his rage. "Maybe I wouldn't be dying right now! If only I didn't waste all of my time cleaning up after your messes!"

'Brother…?'she thought as the tears that had begun to gather in the corners of her eyes spilled over, trailing down her cheeks. 'What are you saying? You don't… really mean that. Right?'

It hurt. Every single word that came out of his mouth hurt more than the last—each one like a violent stab to the heart. It hurt so bad she felt like she was going to die. But in the end, it would mean nothing.

Because compared to the next thing to come out of her brother's mouth, it might as well have been.

It was something she never thought she'd hear… and it was something she would never forget.

"You should have never been born in the first place!"

And just like that… her heart shattered.

For just a moment, it felt like the world had stopped; like time itself had ground to a halt.

Her breaths stilled, her mind went blank, and her eyes blew wider than they ever had before.

'What…?' she thought. The voice in her head was soft and subdued, not unlike a little girl getting berated by an irate or disappointed father.

Again and again, they replayed in her mind—those hurtful words that made her heart ache so much. Then, suddenly, it clicked. Her brother was right, she realized. It really was her fault, wasn't it?

It was obvious now that she thought about it.

She's never really done anything worthwhile or worthy of praise. Her brother has always been strong, stronger than her. She knew that, but she hadn't thought she was weak, at least. But as she replayed their battle in her mind… She really was weak, wasn't she? She'd been decapitated several times throughout the fight while her brother had barely gotten scratched. The Hashira had been so fast she hadn't even seen him move. Gyutaro had kept his focus on her the entire time, making sure that she was okay, even while he'd been fighting multiple opponents at the same time.

She'd just held him back and gotten them killed.

'Have I always been this much of a burden?' she thought.

She really was a burden, wasn't she? Even before tonight, every time her life had been in danger, every time she hadn't been able to pull her own weight, he'd been forced to come to her aid. He'd saved her so many times she'd lost count.

On the bright side, she had her beauty but… that was all she had, wasn't it? She'd never been strong, not like her brother, and while she wasn't stupid, she'd never been that smart either—certainly not enough to get by on her own. Ever since she'd been born, she'd relied on Gyutaro for everything. They've been together for over a hundred years, and in that time, she's never once even tried to repay her brother for everything he's done for her.

'Why did it take me this long to realize?' she thought numbly. 'Was I so arrogant that I couldn't even see it?'

She was brought out of her thoughts by a voice, one not belonging to her brother. Unlike his rough rasp, this one was kind and gentle. "That's not true," the voice said softly. Only then did Daki realize that they were no longer alone.

Stood in front of her was that boy again, the one with the red hair, the scar on his forehead, and the green-checkered haori thrown over that damn demon slayer uniform. His hand was clamped over her brother's mouth, forcing it shut. And his eyes… they held so much sympathy it made her sick!

"I know you don't really feel like that," he continued, even as tears kept streaming down her cheeks. "You don't mean it. Think it over." He paused for a moment, and suddenly, the boy looked strangely sad. "You two have no one but each other. There's no one who will forgive you for what you've done. You'll be resented, despised, and denounced by everyone you've killed. Nobody will ever be on your side… so quit cursing each other out like this!" he pleaded, his own eyes brimming with sympathetic tears. "Because all you have is each other in this world!"

As soon as his words set in, Daki felt something inside her snap.

From between her lips, a low whine escaped her, one which quickly developed into a keening wail full of guilt, pain, and sorrow. The boy's words hurt. They hurt so, so badly, and she knew it was all because he was just telling the truth.

Throughout her entire life, no one else had ever given a damn about her! The one person she'd ever been able to rely on had been her brother, and now that she'd driven him away, she didn't even have that anymore! It was all because of her! Because she hadn't been strong enough to take care of herself, because she'd been too bitter and insecure to take the blame for her failure! She'd pinned everything on her brother, she'd made him hate her, and now…

…now she was going to die!

And that little twerp had the nerve to feel sorry for them?!

Her anger rose to a boiling point and, with what little energy she still had left, like she'd done several times that night, she lashed out like a child. It wasn't like she was good for anything else, anyway…

"Why don't you mind your own damn business?!" she shrieked. "What gives you the right to sit there and lecture us?! As if a brat like you knows anything! Do us all a favor and get lost!"

With that, the last of her anger was spent. Only fear, guilt, sorrow, and regret remained.

She felt fear because she was going to die.

She felt sorrow because she knew her brother would soon follow.

She felt guilt because of all the nasty things she'd said to him.

And she felt regret because she wanted to take it all back!

"I can't believe this is happening!" she moaned pathetically with her eyes screwed shut, unable to bear the look of rage on her brother's face. "I'm not ready to die yet!"

Even as she wailed and cried, even though she knew it was hopeless, she couldn't help but hold on to that childish hope that her brother would come to her rescue again, that he'd somehow be able to save her as he'd done so many times before. And even though it made her sick, even if she knew that she had no right to do so after everything she'd said and done… Daki opened her mouth and begged.

"Please, do something! Do something, brother!"

But as she felt her flesh wither away, she knew there was nothing he could do.

"I don't wanna die! I don't wanna die!" she screamed hysterically. "Help me, brother! Help me, brother!" When her lower jaw finally broke apart before the pieces drifted away in the wind, she could beg and plead no more.

The last thing Daki would remember before her head crumbled into dust would be the look on her brother's face as he told her that she should have never been born at all.

It started with a wail, a wail so ear-piercing and horrifying that it sent a chill down her spine.

Any thought of sleep was forced to the back of her mind as she shot up in her bed, suddenly wide awake with her eyes held wide open. It didn't take her long to discern the source of the noise.

"Ume!" The name of her daughter burst from her lips in a cry of alarm as she tumbled out of bed, her duvet thrown to the side as she shakily stood to her feet.

She bounded across the room as fast as she was able before she burst through the door, which banged loudly against the wall as it was thrown open before she made her way into the hallway, illuminated by the moonlight shining through the windows.

She was down the hall and standing before her daughter's room in seconds—Ume's wails and cries growing louder and more painful to listen to as she neared, mixed with incoherent ramblings she could barely understand.

"I'm here, Ume! Mommy's here!" she yelled as she threw her daughter's bedroom door open.

On the bed, a young girl lay. With her tangled hair messily strewn about and fat tears streaming down her face, she tossed and turned without end, all whilst she screamed herself hoarse.

Her mother didn't dare hesitate. Without wasting a moment, she surged forward, her feet carrying her to her daughter's side as quickly as they could.

"Ume!" her mother cried, hurriedly leaning forward and wrapping her arms around the thrashing young girl. Her daughter's hands reached out, clawing at the air as if out of some desperate need to grab on to something she just couldn't reach and never let go.

Then the pleading started.

"I don't wanna die!" Ume cried, the words breaking her mother's heart. "Please, do— do something, brother!"

"Sweetie," her mother called, her voice soft yet urgent. "You have to wake up!" She raised her daughter's head and pressed it against her chest; her free hand reaching out to run her fingers through Ume's silky, snow-white hair to ease her discomfort as much as she could, but no matter what she did, her darling girl just wouldn't wake up!

"I-I don't wanna die! I d-don't wanna d-die!" the young girl cried over and over again, the sight nearly bringing her mother to tears. "Help m-me, brother! H-help me, b-brother!"

"I'm here, Ume! Mommy's here!" her mother reassured her, ignoring the way her voice choked up as the tears in her eyes spilled over. "It's alright! It's okay! Everything's going to be okay, Ume! So, please, wake up!"

It was only after several agonizing minutes of her mother trying and failing to wake her daughter, all whilst listening to her heart-wrenching cries, that Ume finally woke up.

It was sudden. One second, Ume was screaming and crying in her sleep, and the next, she was wide awake. Her eyes shot open with a violent flinch as a gasp tore out of her throat. Slowly, Ume tilted her head up, her beautiful, lime green, tear-filled eyes meeting her mother's own.

And for a few blessed moments, save for her daughter's deep breaths, it was utterly silent.

Her mother couldn't help the watery smile of pure relief that curved her lips. She raised a hand and brushed a few stray strands of hair away from her face. Then, she gently placed her hand against Ume's cheek before she carefully wiped away her daughter's tears.

For a few moments, Ume's eyes remained glazed over, her mind uncomprehending of the sight before her, but when her daughter finally saw her—saw her frazzled hair, her own tear-stained cheeks, and the dark bags beneath her puffy red eyes, her little girl couldn't take it. Her eyes brimmed with tears anew and her mouth opened wide before she let out a cry of anguish.

"I'm sorry!" Ume cried as she buried her face into her mother's chest, her tears quickly soaking her mother's nightgown, leaving behind dark, wet splotches. "I'm sorry! I'm sorry! I'm sorry!" she repeated. Her mother rubbed soothing circles on her back and continued to gently brush her fingers through her hair, all as she whispered sweet nothings into her ears with a soft, loving smile on her face.

"Shhh…" she soothed, all as Ume kept apologizing for something that wasn't her fault, for keeping her mother up all night, and for making her worry. Even though it was a sight she was all too used to, every time her daughter gave her heart-wrenching apologies, her mother couldn't help bursting into tears as well.

So the two of them sat on the bed together, wrapped in each other's arms as they cried for one another, both of them full of guilt for reasons they did not share.

Ume cried because she felt that she was nothing more than a burden to her mother—the woman who had sacrificed everything to make sure she grew up knowing she was loved, while her mother cried because no matter how hard she tried, she just didn't know how to help her daughter—how to make the nightmares and the pain go away. She just didn't know how to make her happy.

Thankfully, after what had felt like hours, but probably hadn't been more than a few minutes, Ume's cries quieted and she fell asleep once more.

Carefully, Ume's mother laid her daughter back down, placing her head back onto the pillow before she tucked her in, after which her mother planted a loving kiss on her forehead. For some time, her mother didn't move, instead simply choosing to watch the rise and fall of Ume's chest with every soft, even breath.

She looked so peaceful now.

But it wouldn't last. It never did.

Since she'd been just a little girl, Ume had been plagued by horrendous nightmares that had no clear point of origin. They came sporadically, seemingly at random—alternating between torturing her baby girl night after night, sometimes lasting for weeks at a time, and disappearing for months on end, giving her a false sense of hope that she'd finally grown out of them.

They always came back.

As far as she could tell, the nightmare was always the same, though whether or not that was true, she had no way of knowing. Every time, Ume would wail—she'd beg and plead, screaming that she didn't want to die, terrified out of her mind because of something her mother couldn't even hope to imagine.

Without fail, her baby girl would call out, crying for her brother to save her—a brother that she'd never had—and if she ever awoke to her mother at her side, she would only burst into tears and cry all over again, wracked with guilt for making her mother worry.

No matter how hard she tried, Ume refused to open up to her. She never spoke about her nightmares, she never described what she'd seen in them. Every time she asked, Ume would insist they were just that—nightmares, and that she could and would deal with them on her own.

She just wished her baby would trust her. Maybe then she'd be able to help.

With a blink, she glanced at the alarm clock on the bedside table. If she went back to bed now, she'd still be able to get another hour or two of sleep before she had to get ready for work. She turned away, her gaze falling upon her daughter's sleeping form once more, and suddenly, she couldn't care less about getting one more measly hour of sleep.

Carefully, so as not to wake her, Ume's mother quietly slipped beneath the covers of her daughter's bed. She slowly wrapped her arms around her before she pulled her daughter close. She knew Ume would blame herself for keeping her up when morning came—she always did, but right now, her baby needed her, and that was far more important than any amount of sleep ever could be.

She wasn't sure how long she'd laid there, running her fingers through her daughter's hair whilst humming a soft lullaby, and eventually, when the sun rose and its rays peaked over the horizon, still her mother remained by her side, all to make sure Ume got as much rest as she could.

It was the least her little princess deserved.

'It's not enough.'

Listening to the teacher endlessly drone on and on was something that bored Ume immensely.

'You're not enough.'

Yet still, she listened. Her eyes were locked onto the board, her hand scribbling away into her notes, writing down any scrap of information that might have held even the slightest bit of importance.

'You'll never be enough.'

It didn't matter what it was. Language, literature, social studies, mathematics, science, art… Whether it was something she already knew, having been learned and honed from decades of study in a previous life, or something new and unfamiliar, she forced herself to excel—to do better than even her very best would be.

'Useless…'

Whenever she was called on, she answered dutifully. She always sat with perfect posture. She never failed to turn in her assignments on time. She aced her exams consistently and without issue.

'Worthless…'

She was praised regularly by students and teachers alike. She was adored for her beauty, for her intelligence, for her quirk, and aspirations. And on top of it all, she was the most popular girl in school.

'Waste of space…'

All of it was nothing more than a lie. Every compliment was nothing more than an empty attempt at flattery, every achievement nothing more than a meaningless fluke.

After all…

'You should have never been born in the first place.'

…how could someone like her… ever be anything other than a good-for-nothing brat?

'Why?' her mind would whisper whenever her thoughts were allowed to wander. 'Why was someone like you given a second chance?'

She was never able to come up with an answer. Why was she given a second chance? Why was she here? What did a worthless brat like her ever do to deserve the privilege of starting over, of living a life void of the hardships, misery, and pain she'd come to know in her first?

Why was she here? Why was she here instead of her brother?

He'd always been so strong, always been so caring. He'd spent his entire life looking after her. He'd made sure she'd always been okay, always fixed her mistakes, cleaned up after her messes… So why then, after all of the effort he'd put in, after all of the time he'd dedicated to protecting her, why wasn't he here with her? Why hadn't he deserved a second chance?

Was it because he'd been ugly? Because fate had favored her just as it had in her previous life?

The thought alone made her want to cry.

Ume felt the sting of tears as they gathered in her eyes but she wiped them away before anyone could see. She refused to cry, not when she was meant to be strong. Crying was for the weak, after all.

She hated being weak.

She wasn't weak! Not anymore!

It was the bell that jolted Ume out of her thoughts. Their teacher—some worthless nobody Ume could barely recall the name of—assigned them some work due till their next class before he turned and left, straight out the door.

After making sure to write the assignment down in her notebook, Ume wasted no time in packing her books and supplies away. She grabbed her bag and hoisted it onto her shoulder before leaving the classroom as quickly as she could, ignoring the envious, adoring, and lecherous leers that lingered on her form.

As she walked, her stomach growled lightly. A contemplative hum slipped past her lips as she raised a pale hand to her belly, rubbing at it lightly over her uniform. She supposed she had some time before her next class began.

Her feet carried her outside and behind the school building. It wasn't long before one of her favorite places on campus came into view.

Right in front of a sturdy wooden bench was a small koi pond, both of which were shielded from the sun by a handful of trees, casting a blanket of shade over the area. The small grove was both secluded and peaceful, perfect for Ume to relax and calm her nerves after a particularly annoying class period.

The thought always brought a content smile to her face.

Suddenly, something knocked into her shoulder, causing her to stumble before she felt something wet spill onto her chest. Ume looked down, noting the large stain on her blouse as her once calm expression morphed into one of pure fury.

She looked up with a snarl on her face, her eyes locking with those of another student she didn't recognize. He was perhaps a year younger, two at the most if she had to guess, but that didn't matter. The ugly loser wasn't important.

With his cheeks flushed from a mix of infatuation and embarrassment, the boy stammered out a hasty apology. It went ignored. Ume activated her Quirk, and a pink and orange obi—one identical to those from her previous life—slithered out from underneath her blouse and lashed out, tightly wrapping around the boy, covering him from head to toe.

"Watch where you're going, you idiot!" she shrilly screamed. "If you hadn't been such a moron, you wouldn't have spilled all over my uniform!"

"I-It was an accident, I swear, I—" She didn't give him the chance to finish his half-assed apology. Her obi tightened further. The sound of creaking bones followed by a pained gasp put a cruel smirk on her face, and it only widened when she saw tears gather in his eyes.

"Shut up!" she yelled again, earning a flinch from the boy, but she paused when she realized his eyes kept flicking downward, away from her face and towards her chest. Ume followed his gaze, only for her eyes to land on the stain on her blouse, through which her bra was clearly visible. When Ume looked up again, she noticed the blush on his face had only gotten deeper.

"You did that on purpose!" she realized as a growl left her throat. "You fucking pervert! I'll kill you!"

Unfortunately, before she could make good on her promise, Ume heard footsteps approach her from behind.

"Hey!" she heard someone yell.

Ume felt her eye twitch at the interruption.

Slowly, she glanced over her shoulder, an irritated scowl on her face, as her gaze fell onto the form of a young boy her age. His red eyes glared at her through a mess of spiky black hair, his shark-like teeth grit with righteous anger.

'Wait, I think I recognize him. Isn't he in my class?' she thought. 'Whatever. He's still a nobody.'

"Quit picking on him!" the boy yelled again. "He said it was an accident, so let him go!"

Ume shot him a murderous glare. "What did you just say?" she asked quietly, her voice holding an edge to it that had the underclassmen wrapped in her obi sash paling.

"I said: Stop bullying him, you jerk! That's not manly at all!" As soon as the words left his mouth, the boy charged forward. Patches of skin along his arms and face abruptly chipped and cracked, almost as if it'd hardened. For some reason, it reminded her of stone.

"Who the hell do you think you are?!" she screamed at him. "How dare you speak to me like that?!"

In the blink of an eye, a second obi sash burst from her back and tore through the air, slamming into the boy and knocking him off his feet faster than he could react. The blow forced the air from his lungs before he crashed against the ground, leaving him a gasping, wheezing mess.

'What an imbecile,' she thought before she returned her attention to the loser still wrapped in her belt. Though it ultimately did little to make up for ruining her clothes, at the very least, the way he paled when her eyes landed on him brought an amused smirk to her face.

"I fully expect you to make amends for the mess you've caused. I'll give you until tomorrow to pay me back. I know you won't let me down," she whispered, enjoying the way the boy shivered when she gently caressed his cheek. "If you do somehow disappoint me—" Her obi tightened painfully, eliciting a muffled cry from the boy in her grasp. "—I'll make you regret it. Understand?"

"Y-Yeah! I understand," he squealed as soon as her obi removed itself from his mouth. "I'll pay you back, I swear! Please let me go!"

Ume rolled her eyes, then loosened her belt, unceremoniously dropping the boy into a crumpled heap on the floor. "Get out of my sight!" she hissed.

The boy didn't need to be told twice. He shakily stood to his feet before he turned and ran with tears in his eyes, all while cradling his broken arm against his chest.

Ume huffed. "You can't really get more pathetic than that, can you?" she muttered under her breath before she shifted her attention back to the shark-toothed idiot. The boy was still on the ground, having made little progress in recovering from his fall.

'Wow,' she thought. 'I didn't think he could do it, but he just proved me wrong. I guess you can get more pathetic. And he's hideous to boot. I almost feel sorry for him.'

One of her belts slithered forth, wrapping around one of his legs and hoisting him up into the air, leaving him to dangle upside down as he squirmed like a worm. It was almost amusing.

"Now then, what to do with you?" she mused as the boy whose name she hadn't bothered to remember finally managed to get his coughing under control.

"Let me go, dammit!" he growled as he thrashed wildly in her grip.

Ume narrowed her eyes into a glare. She opened her mouth, ready to verbally tear the boy to pieces for daring to talk back to her, but before she could, two more morons popped out of nowhere.

"Sorry about him, Shabana," one of them—a taller boy with brown hair—said with an uneasy smile on his face. "He's been a little worked up today."

"We'll make sure he doesn't bother you again, honest!" the other one—a shorter, chubbier boy with black hair flowing down his neck—added. "Could you let our moron go just this once?"

She didn't fail to notice the beads of sweat on either of their brows.

Ume regarded them for a moment before she glanced at the idiot hanging upside down. briefly, she considered ignoring them, but with the realization that she'd already wasted enough time as it was, she tossed him aside with a dismissive sneer.

"Next time," she began coldly, "I won't be so forgiving."

"We appreciate it, Shabana! We swear it won't happen again!" one of them called out to her, but she ignored them. She was done wasting her time, and she had more important things to do.

Like getting a change of clothes.

"What were you thinking, Kirishima?" one of his friends asked as Eijiro picked himself up, nursing a bruise on the back of his head. "Did you really think confronting Ume Shabana of all people was a good idea?"

Kirishima couldn't help the way grit his teeth in frustration. "She was picking on an underclassman! I couldn't just stand by and let her do that!"

"You totally could have," the other interjected quickly. "I get that you wanna be a hero and all, but seriously, you'd have to be an idiot to stand up to her."

"I don't get it. What makes her so special? She's just a bully," Kirishima pointed out, but his friend just shook his head.

"Maybe, but you're one of the few who can actually see that," his friend said. "Her personality could use some work, but she's easily the most attractive girl in school. Not to mention, her Quirk is strong and incredibly flashy. She's also crazy smart and really scary to go up against in a fight.

"She's really popular and people can't get enough of her," he explained. "No one really sees her rotten side because of it. Not the faculty or the other students, and definitely not the other guys."

"Yep. They're too busy staring at her body to notice anything else," his other friend added with a small blush on his face. "Not that I blame them," he said airily. "She's pretty hot!"

Kirishima couldn't stop the frustration that bubbled up inside him. "That's not right!" he shouted.

"Of course, it isn't," his friend was quick to agree, "but you need to realize that it's all about entertainment value and approval ratings these days—that's what people are looking for in a hero."

Kirishima blinked, then his eyes widened. "Wait, you're not saying she's…"

"That's right," his friend nodded. "Word is she's been thinking of applying to UA."

"What?! You can't be serious!" Eijiro sputtered. "There's no way someone like her could get into a hero school, let alone one like UA!"

"Weren't you listening to what we just said?" his friend asked with a blink. "Her grades, looks, and her Quirk all have her covered. Even if she's a witch underneath it all, she'll have no trouble getting accepted."

Kirishma's face fell, a nervous frown on his face. 'But… what about me?' he thought.

That night, Ume lay in her bed wide awake, unable to sleep.

She stared up at the ceiling blankly—her eyes narrowed into an annoyed glare. Abruptly, a yawn escaped her, which only left her even more incensed. It didn't matter how tired she was, regardless of how much she tossed and turned, she just wasn't able to fall asleep.

Eventually, she gave up, throwing her covers to the side before she rolled to the edge of her bed and sat up with a groan. Her feet carried her across the room, over to the desk by the window, cluttered with books, papers, and other school supplies.

She pulled the chair back and sat down, letting out a tired, frustrated sigh as a pencil found itself in her grasp. She reached out, grabbing one of her notebooks, which she opened and placed in front of her. Its many pages were filled with sketches and notes. Those on the first few pages were messy, often scribbled over or scratched out when they hadn't turned out right, but they improved in quality the more pages she turned, the most recent being the most impressive.

On the page, accompanied by a smattering of notes for clarity, was a detailed sketch of herself, depicting her in what she so far planned for her hero costume to be.

It was even familiar in a nostalgic sort of way. After all, it was incredibly similar to what she'd often worn in her previous life, back when she'd still been a demon.

Starting off, she was planning to wear a customized sleeveless black and magenta bodysuit decorated with floral patterns, leaving most of her shoulders and thighs exposed, over which she'd wrap the belts produced by her Quirk around her midriff for easy access.

On her arms, she'd wear fingerless elbow gloves, and on her legs, she'd wear tight knee-high boots that would closely resemble thigh highs, both of which would also share the black and magenta color scheme and floral patterns that would be on her bodysuit. The gloves and boots would also be framed with thick white stripes on their ends, the former of which would have one around her elbow, while the latter would have one around her thigh.

Lastly, she'd top the look off with her hair styled into a full, long ponytail held up with several gold-plated kanzashi hairpins, which would also be decorated with the same black and magenta floral patterns that would be on the rest of her costume.

If it came out right, her costume would be comfortably form-fitting—hugging her body snugly while emphasizing her curves at the same time, not just for practical functionality, but also so she'd look good. Whether the costume would remain this way was up in the air—there was still room for a few revisions and additions, and even a complete overhaul if the need arose—but for now, Ume was satisfied with the design.

With a huff, Ume set the pencil down and closed her notebook before she leaned forward, propping her head up with her hand as she gazed out the window, watching as the stars danced across the night sky.

For a long time now, ever since she'd been a little girl, Ume had wanted to be a hero. Having been reborn into this world, she'd always felt undeserving of her second chance, and she'd never been able to express to her mother—who always did her best and cared for her just like her brother used to—just how grateful she was.

She hated that.

Every day, her mother would work so hard to provide for the both of them. It was a daunting task, especially after her father had been killed in a villain attack when Ume was still a small child, leaving her mother all alone. Every day, she'd come home from work exhausted—her hair matted and frazzled, and her eyes drooping from a lack of sleep. And on top of it all, when her mother was finally able to go to bed to get some much-needed rest, Ume would wake her with her screaming whenever she had a nightmare, all because of the memories from her former life.

Ume had decided a long time ago that, until she had repaid her mother for all the years of love and care, she wouldn't rest. To that end, Ume swore that she would become a hero—not because of some naive, childish desire to save people, but because it was the best way to ensure her mother could live a long and comfortable life. It wasn't like she had much choice in the matter—any other occupation either paid too little to truly support either of them or would force her to go through years of higher education to get a degree or two before she could even start earning any money.

No, becoming a pro-hero was her only option.

Slowly, her eyes drifted over to the filled-out UA High application she'd placed to the side, away from the rest of the clutter. All that was left would be to send it in once the time was right.

She had ten months. Ten short months until the UA entrance exams, where hundreds of students from all over Japan would fight tooth and nail, all for a shot at landing a spot in the nation's best and most famous heroics course—all so they could fulfill their dreams of becoming heroes.

Ume wasn't worried. As far as she was concerned, she already had a place…

…and she'd destroy anyone who'd dare try and take it from her!

A/N: I hope you guys enjoyed that. I got back into Demon Slayer and didn't feel like starting a completely new fic when I had a perfectly good one right here. Hopefully I don't drop it because of writer's block again. Second chapter is already mostly done (thankfully), just gotta add the final touches before I post it. Stay tuned!