Chapter Text
"I'm falling, down into my shadow... failing to control my breath,
as we embrace the deadly night.
If you are scared, never show it in your eyes, near those pumpkin carriages...
'Cause all the witches see right through your lies."
--Amalee(TommyHeavenly6)
Books littered the space. Books, and books, and books, and books-- overflowing from the shelves, spilling over from the tables, some stacks taller than even his companions standing alongside them. Candles interspersed throughout the room provided a dim glow to their withered pages, but it wasn’t sufficient enough for them to make much out. Not that, given what they’d combed through so far, there was much to make out. Other assorted objects casted harsh shadows across the room, way too overcrowded even for how large a chamber it was.
In the center of it all, a single figure looked from table to table, at the open tomes that had yielded no answers. It was getting harder, and it was easy to tell.
He gnawed his lip carefully, feeling the chill that so often penetrated this place, so close to the dungeon, and shivered. The black, tattered cloak was warm, and he was grateful for it down here, but there was no denying the way it drowned him. He knew it made him look even more like a child than he did already, but…
In so many ways, he still was one.
And everyone present in the study knew it.
He swallowed, trying not to feel small, as the others scanned their books and he continued lighting candles. Every once in a while, he shot a glance to the door in the back of the study. Being around it still felt uncomfortable-- and it wasn’t just the way his bones buzzed, or his scars burned. He felt a headache pulsating from his temples already.
The others never seemed to ache the way he did when he was near it. Both figuratively, and literally.
“Yaoyoroz uuu.”
A clipped voice chirped from across the room, dragging out the last syllable in a titter. The boy glanced up from behind his bangs, straining to listen to their hushed voices. But it was just the same. They were no closer to finding what they had been searching for all this time. Shaking his head, he returned to the candles, but something below caught his attention-- a little paw pad, tapping against his red riding boots. Two mismatched eyes looked at him knowingly, and the boy blinked.
In the very next moment, the grandfather clock chimed.
The boy froze. Glancing from the clock to the cat, he could feel the way his breaths burned in his lungs, still a strange feeling but present nonetheless. “Has it been that long already?” he hissed, lowly, so the others would not hear.
The cat merely flicked its tail-- half red, half white-- in response.
The boy’s face fell. He pulled the cloak closer, looking to the door apprehensively. By now, another in the room had also noticed the eloquent chiming, and fell from the table in a burst of feathers.
It was no wonder he felt weak.
No wonder he felt dizzy.
No wonder his limbs were starting to shake--
He threw off the cloak, letting it fall back onto the oaken desk, trying his best not to shiver from the cold. He’d always gotten cold too easily. He didn’t have the advantage of fur, as they did. Most of the group looked impassive, unfazed as ever as yet another member of their group decided they were overdue for a break.
Yeah, a break.
Even if his would be longer than most.
“Sorry you guys,” he said quickly, as he passed a long table. The remaining three members looked up from where they’d hunched over their own books. “I’ll do my best to catch up later, okay?”
A humming, bored chorus affirmed his excuse.
There was relief in escape, but then the tittering voice from earlier cut above, surer and steadier than the boy’s own could ever be. “Yes. I think I’ll be retiring as well for the moment. There’s something I’d like to investigate.”
“Very well…”
Yaoyorozu didn’t sound suspicious. In fact, there was a hint of sympathy in her voice, and the boy knew why. Suddenly, sadness compounded with the weakness, and he felt his legs moving before he could really think on it much harder.
The cat followed at his heels as well, and the boy stepped aside to let Iida exit. The corridor’s darkness shadowed his face, as he slid the chamber door closed.
“Poor Midoriya… I can’t imagine it’s easy for him, being down here like this.”
“As if staring at your mentor’s magic bones would be easy.”
The dizziness came back in a harsh wave, causing him to exhale audibly, and before he could alert anyone else he fled the dungeon.
Four flights of stairs seemed so daunting, when he was stumbling upwards, fingers scraping the weathered stone for support. The cat led the way, and the boy swore he almost tripped back a couple times-- only for the owl flapping behind him to catch his shirt in his talons, preventing him from quite literally spiralling. “Thank you, Iida,” he huffed, trying to clamber the last flight before he fell out completely.
All he got in reply was a tsk. “You can’t keep doing this forever, Midoriya-kun. I say, you’ve been looking even paler that usual for hours now.”
“...I know.”
Finally, they reached a hall Izuku knew better than any in their shared home, following the long red carpet trimmed in gold toward the middle of the wing. He knew they had followed just to make sure that he made it. To make sure he didn’t pass out this time, as he had before.
“Midoriya-kun…”
“I-I’m okay.” He frowned, and he could feel them-- poking over the edges of his bottom lip, a new permanent pout that never looked very reassuring. “I’m fine.”
Todoroki hmph ed, padding past them to his own room at the end of the hall. But with one decisive twitch of his tail, his stance was clear. “You’re not.”
He sighed. If Todoroki could tell, there really was no denying it.
He glanced then to Iida, who still looked miffed, but tutted anyway. “Very well. I’ll allow you to retire-- for now. I’ll be back in the evening to make sure that you’re feeling better. We shall go from there.”
He nodded, trying not to shake as Iida bobbed away. He was such a good person… looking after him, just as All Might had asked...
But as soon as Iida disappeared around the corner, he slung the door open,throwing himself inside.
Izuku collapsed against the heavy entrance, panting as he slid down. Relieved to be in the privacy of his own bedchamber, he tucked his head between his knees in an effort to curb the shuddering breaths that threatened to wrack his body. He couldn’t even bring himself to step up onto his bed, onto the plush cushions-- the four-poster was too daunting, and he was too tired. But, he knew it had nothing to do with the stairs. It didn’t have anything to do with the sadness he felt, at Kaminari’s mention of the Seal.
He was growing weaker. And not in a way someone like him should be.
It took him a few moments, but he was able to catch his breath again. But even as it grew deeper, the pain forced it into an involuntary hiss, something he still did not associate with his voice.
His own voice, which still scared him sometimes.
With what little strength he could muster, he grabbed for something solid in the room’s center, anything to help him stand. His hand found the footstool, and he heaved himself up, using the dresser to make it the rest of the way. It took everything he had in him to stand at his full height, facing the glass on the dresser.
He was sure he looked terrible. But the mirror, just like the books, showed nothing.
He looked down, to the ruffled shirt that never quite fit, to the green waistcoat that was just a little too frayed, to trousers a bit too short. At least this part of himself hadn’t changed. For just a moment, he could close his eyes, and feel his raging fireplace’s radiant heat fall upon his skin.
He curled a hand over his chest, searching for something there, anything.
This, too, was fruitless.
Maybe if he imagined it hard enough, he could see his own tired, green eyes looking back at him. The bags there, something to hold onto. He ran his palms over the dresser’s smooth wood. No matter how much he wished the others would deny it, he saw the worry they could not hide. The resignation that they, too, weren’t far behind.
He was turning into a monster.
And he would never hear the words he wanted, to stop those worries in their tracks.
“I’m sorry, All Might,” he said, doing everything he could to hold back the tears. He scrubbed at his eyes, but it was no use. He was never good at hiding this part of him. He was not a hero.
He was just a boy.
“I don’t know what you saw in me.”
Tap, tap, tap!
Another noise from the room’s opposite end startled him. A rhythmic tapping on glass. His bedroom window, to be precise.
Izuku skirted around his bed, wiping the last of his collected tears. The knock was easily recognizable. But this was strange, too, for it to come at this time of day.
It took some doing, but he managed to jimmy open the iron lock holding the old window in place. And there, sure enough, perched a raven he knew well, stern eyes narrowed at the boy who’d come to receive him.
“Tokoyami!” he said, tilting his head, one hand still hanging from the window. “What--”
“Midoriya. I’m afraid a shadow has befallen our fair castle,” he replied, without so much as a greeting. He folded his stately wings, and Izuku’s eyebrows shot up. “One even more dire than the shadow befallen you.”
Izuku, taken aback, inhaled. He felt the mounting panic already. “What? What do you mean?”
“A darkness stirs on the road leading to the village. I believe… it’s a girl.”
“A, uh-- a girl?”
“Yes. A girl. And from the looks of it, a shadow follows her as well.” Tokoyami nodded in the wood’s direction and Izuku craned his neck to see “Observe.”
Izuku’s bedchamber overlooked the castle courtyard-- overgrown flower beds, an uneven cobbled walkway, and a dried up fountain. On any normal day, they’d look like they hadn’t been made use of in decades. But now, as Izuku strained his eyes, peering through the trees, slow movement caught his keen eyes.
A chill shot through his chest. “Horses-- those are humans.”
“Yes, they are.”
“How many?”
“Three. Two men, and the girl.”
“Girl--” He fumbled for words, wringing his hands, utterly confused. “But why would the humans send-- a girl couldn’t-- she would be--”
And then he froze, half a step into his pacing, eyes widening. Without even looking at Tokoyami, Izuku asked his next question. But he knew the answer. He should’ve known all along.
“Tokoyami… what day is it?”
“All Hallow’s Eve-- the darkest of days.”
Oh, no. Oh, no-- it was the day the humans feared the most-- the day that, that He-- and no one had bothered to tell the humans because they couldn’t--
This was bad.
She-- She was in danger.
“Um, we can’t, there’s--” Izuku tried not to let his voice waver, even though the crack beat him to it. He backed away from the window, careful not to be seen, but looked Tokoyami straight in his sharp, determined eyes. “Um, uh, assume the positions!”
“I’ll alert the others.”
It was all he could do. And as a tiny green bat zipped through the window, stealing one last glance at the wagon, only one thought crossed his mind.
All Might, show me what’s right. Please.
Listen well, earth-dwellers, who breathe life in ease--
Of the toll to be paid on All Hallow’s Eve:
A token of innocence, delivered in chains
To the Devil’s dominion, devoid of such things.
A maiden that’s righteous, fiery and pure
Will be offered in place of the realm you adore
Her flesh brings protection, her bones mend all plight
And her blood used to quench the Terror in the night.
The wood was still and silent.
Even with the rickety clanking of the old horse-drawn cart, she knew this. All the gray spaces, shrouded in mist; all the tall trees, unbothered by wind; all the woodland animals, either hiding in their winter sleep, or gone. This wood was silent. Ochako knew this, because she had seen it. She didn’t have to see it now to know it was true.
All her life, she’d seen it.
All her life, it had scared her.
Just as it did now.
A shriek from below pierced the surrounding darkness, and Ochako’s wagon came to an abrupt halt. She teetered over, but the stiff bar holding her in place didn’t allow for any give, only succeeding in bending her shoulders and elbows in a way that sent pain flaring up her mounted limbs. She winced at the fresh bruise she’d probably uncover once she unraveled her dress’s sheer sleeve. Just another, to add to the decorations on her body.
The wagon swayed. Ochako couldn’t see it as it did-- the thick strap tied over her eyes transformed the shapes into unidentifiable blurs, but she could still trace their movements as they lumbered down from their perch at the wagon’s head.
She swallowed down her fear as the large, burly presences moved toward her. She could feel it as one loomed just behind, on the other side of the iron bars caging the whole cart. A jangling sound came next as the man unlatched the shackles holding her already-bound wrists.
Evidently, he saw the tension in her muscles, because before Ochako could so much as shift away he grabbed her by the wrist again, so hard his fingernails could draw blood. “Not so fast, Miss Uraraka.”
She screamed out, but the other burlap strips strapped in her mouth horribly muffled the sound.
Another high-pitched creak, and Ochako could tell just from the direction it came from that it was the cell door’s hatch.
The man groaned as he hoisted himself in. Ochako wished she could shrink, wanted to pull away, but between her also-shackled feet and the other man holding her from behind, it was useless.
Nausea stalled in her chest as the man next to her leaned down, his face so close to her own that she felt his breath, felt the spiny hairs of his beard as they brushed against her jaw. Despite herself, she shivered. “Now, what did the village elders say? Nice and pretty?”
She attempted to twist away, but the other held fast. “Ah,” the man in the cart said. He reached out. Ochako felt it as he tucked one loose strand of brown hair behind her ear, one of the only ones that had come loose from her intricately-braided crown even with the roughness. She was almost glad she couldn’t see. She was sure that whatever she would find in his eyes, it’d be sickening.
“You want to be a good girl for us now, Miss Uraraka,” his voice said, and to Ochako’s utter embarrassment even the gag couldn’t swallow the whimpers. She wanted to fight. She wanted to kick and scream. She wanted his hands off of her-- “Or else your parents might find themselves in a similar situation. Wouldn’t want that, would we?”
She felt a telltale sting, in her eyes and nose.
It wasn’t like she was going to get far, anyway. She knew the consequences of resisting. Had seen it twice in her lifetime, when the prisoner-keepers told stories of the girls that had attempted escape, only for their families to disappear without a trace.
She knew.
Gods, she knew.
“Well?”
She sniffed, as low and calm as she could, and bowed her head. The man threaded something into her braid, something heavy, with what felt like a thin piece of fabric which rested across her forehead, brushing her cheeks all the way to her collar bone. Yes, she knew what this was.
But even with her face hidden, she held her tears. She wouldn’t give them the satisfaction. Not them.
The presence above her leaned back, surely surveying his work. “Ah, it’s a shame I don’t get to keep you.” Something pressed against her jawline, meshing the fabric into her skin. His thumb. Ochako’s stomach turned. “Every year, we slave away sending you pretty girls here, when we don’t get so much as a taste.”
She bit down on the cloth. Stop stop stop stop stop--
“What a waste-- oh, well.”
The other man, the one holding her arm, shoved her hand through the bars and Ochako screamed. The other took it and held it fast, allowing his partner to shove through the other. Ochako didn’t make a sound as she felt thick, metal cuffs clamp around her wrists, replacing the rope. But she couldn’t stop herself from flinching when a chain clinked shut, sealing the manacles together.
With one experimental tug, Ochako knew she wouldn’t be able to break free. The shackles were too tight. The give too short.
The man bent towards her feet next. The ropes were even more uncomfortable there, over already-itchy stockings. The burning sensation told her the blisters had already begun to form. But without heeding this at all, the man roughly untied her ankles from the other bar, careful not to knock off the flats that the cobbler had fitted and sewed just for her.
Yeah… a waste.
The man’s presence receded, as did the one behind her, and Ochako could do nothing but shift uncomfortably. She hadn’t heard the door swing shut, and her legs were unbound-- freedom was so close that it hurt her chest and sent a fresh wave of tears into her lashes for the cloth to catch. She was blinded. Gagged. Couldn’t call for help. Had no balance with her hands chained. But beyond even that…
The man’s threat haunted her once again. Her parents.
“All trussed up and ready to go,” the man beside her said, voice raised, clearly signaling the other one. Ochako shivered. What did they think she was? Some wild animal? No longer a person, just-- just a prisoner? She squirmed, wishing desperately for some give on her chains, but then five bony digits wound around her neck. “Now, then. You aren’t gonna scream. You aren’t gonna struggle. You’re gonna come nice and quiet, and let me get my job over with.” His lips moved against her ear. “Understood?”
Her muscles tightened. At this, the hands only closed tighter, tighter, so tight that Ochako couldn’t inhale anymore. “Understood?”
She squeaked, nodding, best as she could with the man’s fist collaring her. Her breath grew hot and her vision splotchy as the grip on her throat tightened. But garbled, broken whimpers gave him whatever he was looking for and he finally, finally, released her.
“Good.”
Ochako fell back, against the bars. Her hands clutched at the air for something she couldn’t see, not with the blindfold, not with the cloth. She settled for curling her fingers beneath her chin, trying to stymy the burning pain there, and taking what deep breaths she could behind the gag. It didn’t feel like enough. More bruises were surely already forming, but did it matter? It wasn’t like she’d be around much longer to feel them, anyway.
That was when two solid arms, much bigger than she was, roughly grabbed her beneath her knees and shoulders. Ochako blanched at the sudden shift in her environment, but barely had time to yelp out a protest before the man slung her over what must’ve been his shoulder.
Ochako squealed, pounding her shackled hands against the mans shoulder as they walked, due to the unexpected pain. Her ribs were beginning to ache already, being carted around like a sack of the village’s newest crop. She kicked out, trying to let her dress fall back down over her hips. The only peace of mind she had came from the fact that her stockings wouldn’t give these men the eyeful they’d no doubt be delighted to have.
“I knew they said this one would be a handful, but this is ridiculous,” the man not carrying her said, though Ochako could barely hear over her muffled curses. The other grunted.
“They usually come quietly. But we do get some spirited ones over the years-- those are the ones you have to handle with care. Like so.”
Everything froze, and a shiver ran up Ochako’s spine.
And then, the world flipped topsy-turvy as two large hands clutched her hips and flipped her off the man’s shoulder, her back colliding with packed, trodden dirt. A hand caught her by the hair, probably to prevent it from getting messed up. But that didn’t stop the swift slap across her ear that followed.
She doubled over, palms scraping against sticks and rocks as the force sent her down. Once again, the hand in her hair kept her upright, but Ochako could only really tell because of the way her scalp burned with the pull. Her vision went cross-eyed. She’d never had her ears boxed before, not even by her parents-- she’d never given them a reason to. More tears. More bruises.
Why…
Her head was still spinning, but she heard enough to know that the men were continuing their chatter, moving away, then moving close again, dragging Ochako’s disoriented body closer to wherever they were taking her. A strange crank and crash as something to the right of them opened, but Ochako could not figure out what.
Still it was enough to know they were handling her just forcibly enough that her dress and hair would not fall out of place.
“ A beautiful bride. A beautiful bride for the Terror to wed. A wonderful sacrifice. A worthy, willing, quiet girl for us to gift to the wood, and bring about another year of prosperity.”
The bile already burned Ochako’s throat, and it wasn’t just from the smarting in her temple.
A worthy bride… a willing sacrifice…
One of them hauled her to her feet again, allowing Ochako to only stumble in the vague direction he was dragging her. “Mmrph!”
“Not so difficult after a little discipline, eh?”
“Are any of their kind?”
They stopped again, and this time, an ominous feeling settled next to the nausea in Ochako’s midsection. Something was wrong. The blindfold made it so much worse, being totally unable to see her surroundings. She laced her fingers, as she always did when she was nervous. She just wished she could stop the trembling, too.
A hand reached across her back, gripping the cloth there tightly. It was the bearded man. She could tell by his proximity, by the breath and his tone, the smugness he sang with.
“Ah-- there, there Miss.” He patted her, and she silently chided herself for flinching. “No need to be so scared. It’s a noble thing you’re doing, right?” His nails dug into her shoulders again, It caused her to stumble, and she nodded, frantically, wanting this to stop. “Good. Don’t forget who you’re doing this for.”
She swallowed. Of course she wouldn’t.
Angry tears replaced whatever hurt she felt. These men… these awful men… these prisoner-keepers, these… these kidnappers…
Something pressed into her back, forcing her to take steps forward. She did.
She reached one leg out, letting the toe of her shoe search for solid ground. It was there. She did the same again, going forward.
“Walk willingly, miss, because if you look back, you’ll see your parents sooner than you’d ever wanted to.”
As much as she hated to admit it… they were right.
She had more than just herself to think about.
No matter how much she wanted to live.
One foot in front of the other, in front of the other, in front of the other. The men poking her in her back laughed as she stumbled, but even behind her bindings she was careful to keep her face neutral. After a few more steps, her toe bumped up against something solid and hollow. It gave her pause.
But not for long, because the men from the village planted one hand between her shoulder blades, and with one last shove pushed her farther in.
Ochako thanked her lucky stars for good balance, because she was sure that she would have spilled out across whatever was beneath her if she hadn’t slowed back to a walk. She caught her balance, though, and stood straight.
A groaning, echoing smack boomed from behind her, and she jumped.
The door. It had to be the door, the entrance, to whatever this place was--
Ochako called out through the gag, spinning on her heel, but the voices were already moving farther away.
“‘Tis a noble sacrifice! Remember that-- and give our regards to the Terror!”
No!
She flung herself in that direction, even though she couldn’t see, crying out again and again. Her shoulder hit something hard. How could they? How could they claim to protect the village by doing this, and just leave her, with no way to defend herself? How could they? Wasn’t she… didn’t she matter, too?
She cried out, for as long as she heard their voices. Her only anchor to her world moving away. She cried out until she couldn’t hear them anymore.
Silence and darkness were her only company.
Ochako slid down, collapsing against the door, doing everything she could to swallow the lump in her throat. This wasn’t right. Those men were not heroes. And she was not a martyr.
She was just a girl.
As she met the ground, the gag became more difficult to breathe through. With no one to stop her, Ochako reached her bound hands towards her face, hooking her fingers beneath the cloth that obscured every bit of her vision. It was hard with her hands locked as they were, but she managed to shimmy the knot loose, and the blindfold fell from her eyes. She did the same with the cloth gag, taking a deep breath once she spat out the wad of burlap they’d shoved in her mouth, to muffle her screams in the middle of the night. She should’ve felt disgust looking at them. Instead, she felt only sadness.
And, just as she suspected, black shrouded her immediate vision, the same color as her short, form-fitting dress. A veil. A veil for an innocent, virgin-blooded maiden.
Noble? It was a horrible thing. Horrible, awful, terrible, and cruel.
But...
The only light left in her heart reminded her that some kind of good rippled from her compliance. The others in the village wouldn’t have to suffer. Neither would her parents. No other girl would have to face this fear alone, not this year at least. The village would get their protection, the crops would be fruitful, illness and famine avoided. They would be happy, and she would be....
Here.
Left here, to die alone.
In this cursed place that no one had ever, ever returned from. No comforting touches from her Mama. No reassuring words from her Daddy. Just her, the castle, and whatever lurked in the halls which she could not see.
She’d sit like a good girl, like she’d been instructed, and await her fate. It recoiled through her whole being but Ochako wanted nothing more than that. For her parents, back home, to be left alone. She wondered if they’d awakened, to find her for their daily chores yet. Only for the village elders to tell them what had become of their only child. Only to find fear, and fight back. She hoped her Daddy wouldn’t fight back.
She wanted them to forget about her.
Please.
She wanted nothing more.
More tears sprang to her eyes, and she held them back.
Fear flared up in her midsection again, but she did her best to swallow it down. She was sure that if she could see them, her brown eyes would be pinched with apprehension rather than the bravery her parents had always encouraged from her, thin lips curved anxiously rather than confidently. She could see now, and speak, but she didn’t know what to expect. No one had ever told stories of what to expect. No one had ever made it that far.
That was why, finally looking up from her chained hands, Ochako felt confused.
She had been expecting the castle. But this was where the Terror lived, so there were things she’d always imagined about this place-- dilapidated floorboards, rusted iron fixtures, spiderwebs draping every surface like some kind of macabre gothic dream.
But it wasn’t like that.
The floor was polished. As was the furniture, every fixture and decoration clearly used and taken care of. Of course, a fine layer of dust covered the place, and there were some holes in the ceiling, where wet spots had collected on the tile in a steady drip, drip, drip. People she didn’t recognize in paintings around the room, wearing sinister smiles, seemed to trace her every movement. Perhaps that was why she had the distinct feeling she was being watched…
In the middle, twin staircases twisted up to a second-floor landing, farther into wings she could not see. It seemed huge, from what she could gather. Certainly much bigger than any house she’d ever seen, especially in her village. Something about it struck her. A morbid beauty, the kind she associated with the village graveyard, and the overgrown gardens no one had tended to for years back home.
This place… it hadn’t fallen into total disrepair… but it was eerie. Especially with the silence.
Ochako gulped, shivering on the foyer’s upper step. Regardless of its regality, she was stuck here.Was this a test? What should she do? Make a break for it? No, that would only put her village in danger. Look for a way to uncuff herself? Tempting… but would that risk heavier chains later if it upset the Terror? She didn’t care much, but it would be harder to escape then. Especially on her own, at his mercy…
Mercy, she spat in her mind, cheeks puffing up. What kind of mercy was this? Demanding girls he could wed and… and defile… and probably kill at his leisure. In return for protecting some lousy village? It didn’t make sense. Who was he anyway, some jerk who just stayed hermited up in his dumb castle all year? He probably needed the girls bound and gagged when they were delivered, so that they couldn’t fight back and win.
She took one more look at her hands, swathed in rope and shackles. Maybe she should find a way...
She was just--
A loud clang reverberated through the foyer.
Ochako’s head whipped in the direction of the noise, caught off guard by the sudden echo. Her eyes scanned the candelabras, the tables, the glass decorations, for any sign of movement-- but saw nothing. Tilting her head, she gave the area another once-over. Tension began mounting in her chest.
T-That noise-- she’d definitely heard it, but--
The foyer fell silent again.
She stood on unsteady knees, not removing her eyes from that corner of the hall. Was she imagining things? Did this castle have the ability to mess with her like that? ….Or was it the Terror?
Clink!
Beside the door. Ochako pivoted, hands flying up in some kind of protective stance. There was nothing to be seen there, except another freestanding candle tower. Again, there was no movement. Except-- hadn’t its candles been lit earlier? She could’ve sworn they were, even if it was daytime--
She took half a step back.
And then, something from the corner of her vision stopped her cold.
Squeak! Crash!
Her gaze landed on a broken vase, at the top of the stairwell, that had not been broken when she’d arrived. Everything had been intact when she’d arrived. Something had knocked it over. It had just been knocked over, she was sure of it--
No, no, no-- this-- this isn’t right--
Inhaling a shaky breath, Ochako backed against the wall. She had to stay, no matter how scared she was. No matter how angry. She was all alone,, and this wasn’t right, but--
She wished, desperately, for her parents, they would know what to do--
More movement.
More silence.
Something green flashed in the corner of her eye, rolling, rolling with something dark that she could not make out, and Ochako bolted.
“Do what is right, little one.”
She couldn’t stay here-- she knew that, and as something once again changed in the peripherals of her vision her eyes shot to the left end of the hall. Get away. That was all she could think to do. The rational part of her that was still working told her it was probably just her defiance, the panic getting to her, but Ochako couldn’t endure it any longer. She didn’t like this place, she wouldn’t be forced to stay here just because those men said so.
She would not stand in that entrance, waiting for whatever it was she was supposed to face.
She wouldn’t be just another victim.
She refused.
She had to hide, and come up with a plan.
Her gaze jumped from doorway to doorway, eventually landing on one between a rickety bookcase and the stairwell. She wrapped her hands around the thin doorhandles, praying to every deity listening that it wasn’t locked.
Her prayers, blessedly, were answered. They gave way, only for her to be greeted with a long, lonely table, filled with empty seats and also piled with dust.
Dining room. She picked another doorway, this time to the right-- finding something definitely not a quiet place to hide.
Ochako slowed a little, breath stalling as she held her hands out once more for protection. This room was… smaller than the foyer, and unlike anything she’d ever laid eyes upon. An array of instruments occupied the room, all looking shiny, and new, even with the black veil shrouding most of their luster. A harp, glistening in the sun filtering through the sheer curtains. An amazing cello, mounted near the wall. And perhaps the most beautiful grand piano Ochako had ever seen.
She couldn’t bring herself to move, even with the pressing voice in her head telling her she should. Her family had always talked about music, about games and art that they enjoyed during the harvest festival, that they could never seem to afford to view up close… Here, now, Ochako wandered over to it, fascinated by its real ivory keys and its gold engraving. A book was open in its center. She couldn’t read the notes, of course, but her eyes did linger at the top.
Toshinori’s Lullaby-- Kyoka Jiro.
The names weren’t familiar. She reached down, almost on reflex, to tap the little keys--
And immediately pulled back. She was not here for fun. No, she should continue, and find safety before the Terror decided to come out of his own hiding place. And continue praying that this castle was too big for her new “husband” to ever, ever find her.
She looked sadly at the piano, at all the pretty instruments, and turned to leave the room. Her hand reached out for the next carved doorknob, angled from where she’d entered.
Ping!
She whirled around.
The reverb still vibrated through the room. The piano-- she could recognize the keys, as unskilled as she was. A note had rung out.
She traced the room for movement. Still nothing. Nothing, just like in the foyer earlier. Her eyebrows pinched together in confusion. She listened to more, but more did not come. Not so much as a chime.
Was this the Terror playing with her....?
The thought turned her stomach, and she ran again.
She pushed through another doorway, determining with a quick glance that it was a two-story library, with ladders and stairwells connecting the floors. She pushed through the next door, into a hallway. And then, she ran to the very end, to a window she could see only overgrown thorn bushes and wildflowers out of.
She stopped for a moment, looking over her shoulder and panting.
Had she run far enough? This castle seemed so big, but without knowing its layout, she could’ve just run in a great big circle. Glancing from one end to the doors beside her, Ochako’s lips trembled. No. There wouldn’t be--
She stiffened, casting one glance to the far door.
Nothing. Nothing was there save for old decorations and doors, but still Ochako knew. She was not imagining things. It was a flash of green again, like she’d seen in the foyer.
So she spun on her heel, barging through the next door.
Another long hallway. Another door. Some kind of sitting room. Another door. Ballroom. It was only when she careened through a tenth-- or was it twelfth? She’d lost count-- door that she paused, the aching in her sides demanding her rest. This was an old-style kitchen, not nearly large enough for the servants that had once milled about here, she was sure. She leaned against one of the countertops, slumping down onto the floor once again to catch her breath.
There were two more doors in here-- another large one, surely leading to another hall, and an open one that led… to a staircase. But not one to a higher floor, Ochako noted with interest as she cautiously shimmied closer. One leading down. The stone stepway curved so that she could not see where it led to, but Ochako had enough sense to know where it led. She swallowed, the very aura of the threshold sending waves of horror down her spine.
Was that… where the last girls… where anyone who angered the Terror... ended up?
Even though she shuddered, even though the notion pulled at her heart, she closed her eyes, letting her ears keep watch while her mind shot into overdrive. She needed some sort of plan. She-- She wanted to fight back, but was the Terror even something she could fight? She couldn’t run forever. She couldn’t even run for much longer.
She pulled her knees close to her chest.
She wanted to cry again.
She wouldn’t. She needed a plan.
But before she could think of anything, before she could even begin to strategize, before Ochako could so much as utter the inner workings of a miracle, she heard it.
A beating noise, like wind howling through something hollow. Rhythmic, and light.
Cold, molten tingles shot down her spine, along her bones and out through her nerves, raising the hair on her skin as she felt a dizzying pressure twist hard around her ribs. From her little corner, on the side of the counter, she could see the flash of color, bobbing just above the kitchen’s island counter. Emerald green. Just like the flashes she’d seen earlier.
Desperately trying not to cry out, Ochako smashed her tied hands over her mouth, whipping back to the wall. How had it found her? She wasn’t sure what the creature was-- it was too small to be the Terror, but could it have belonged to Him? Had it been following her?
Her mind screamed at her to do something. To make the first move, and catch it. But it was too far away, and there was no telling how big it was beyond the small tufts she could see-- especially with the veil still obscuring her vision.
It had stalled next to the single door. Ochako pleaded with it to move on, but if it did, it would round the next corner… and see her.
Which left her one option.
She glanced, nervously, to the steps not far from her. She could make the crawl without alerting the creature. Especially with her stockinged feet, and the gloves on her hands, dampening every movement she made. And she did. She leaned forward, pulling herself toward the dark stairwell, heart sinking with every inch she crept.
Just as she thought, the creature was not alarmed to her sound.
Half of her… wished it would be.
She made it to the threshold, peering down. She could see light flickering below-- the telltale glow of candlelight. This was a stairwell used often. Just the thought called beads of sweat onto her skin.
Be brave, Ochako. Her parents’ words manifested within her.
She bit her lip, and with one final look across her shoulder at the stalled creature, swept down the stairway in a silence that would rival the one looming down below.
The stone was rough beneath her stockings. Ochako had kicked off her shoes at some point during her panicked run, abandoning them in some hallway or another she was sure she’d never make it back to. That almost made it worse here. The fabric caught on each loose stone, fraying the silk so delicately hugging her toes and making the itch even worse. But she did not stop. Could not. She ran her hands along the walls, feeling the stones, there, too. Until she reached the odd candle, holding them closer for warmth.
This place was much different from the rest. Older. Ochako could feel it as the steps grew longer, and her body colder as the gravelly substance beneath her began to hold water, soaking through and numbing her. But not only that-- Ochako could feel the heaviness here, too. A strange sorrow she didn’t know how to place. Hopelessness… both new and old.
Ochako hugged herself, as she took the final step down and found herself in a black stone corridor. It seemed to stretch for a while in both directions, lit candles occasionally denoting the path.
She shook her head. There was no telling how lost someone could get here.
But maybe… that was for the best.
She looked back up to the kitchen stairwell, seeing that she hadn’t been followed. If there was an entrance like that, there were sure to be more. Maybe… maybe ones that even led outside the castle.
But…
Mama… Daddy…
She shook all those notions away, shuffling away from the light, to the side of the corridor whose candles stopped further down. She could not abandon them. She had no choice but to find a safe place and figure this out. On her own, and the best she could. There was no other option.
Her parents had gone so far beyond for her, so much so that she knew they’d tell her to run.
And that was why she couldn’t.
She had to do this. For them.
“How do you lose an entire girl?” Momo sighed, her fluffy tail twitching every lilt of her voice as she ran, gracefully, ears twitching as they did-- the benefits of fox hearing and smell were apparent, because she took a sharp turn, narrowly missing trampling the rat underneath her. “Ooh-- pardon, but please--”
“I dunno,” Jiro huffed, as her pawpads slammed down the hallway’s carpet in hot pursuit of the boy in front of her. Her voice was deadpan, but Izuku could sense the annoyance there. And he was very happy that he wasn’t suddenly on the menu. “Ask Mr. Lookout over here. We wanted to keep her corralled in one place, but Kaminari kept making noise and scaring her off.”
Kaminari, however, scurrying beside her, scoffed. He was out of breath as he spoke, stubby legs desperate to catch up with the cat beside him. “It’s not like I was the only one! Midoriya here broke the vase, in case you forgot. And he was right behind her in the kitchen! And lost her!”
Izuku’s wings beat faster, trying to pull ahead. It wasn’t like he meant to--
“Midoriya is at a disadvantage, in case you’ve forgotten,” Momo admonished, and Izuku silently thanked her for the save. “Bats see by echolocation--”
“Yeah, yeah,” he mumbled in reply, “But how anybody could lose a beauty like that is--”
“Hold on--”
Momo skidded to a halt, as did the other two, with Izuku bumbling in the air to try and face them again. Momo looked up, then back to Kaminari, raising one paw in an inquisitive gesture. “You said that he lost her in the kitchen?”
He nodded. Izuku inclined the top half of his fluffy body, the best answer he could give in this state. Momo, affronted, looked at each of them incredulously.
“You know what that means, don’t you? There’s only one way out of there.”
Jiro looked up. “And it leads to…”
They all exchanged looks, fur standing on end. No. If she’d gone down those steps, she’d have wound up in one of two places… Toshi’s study, or…
“B-B-Ba--”
“We must go!” Momo turned, and all three of them broke into sprints, Izuku gliding above with all the strength his wings could muster.
He could only hope that the girl had found the study.
Because there was one member of their Coven he couldn’t talk sense into.
Ochako didn’t know how long she’d been walking. The farther she went, the staler the air became, and the more evident it was that this was not an area of the castle that was used terribly often. The candles had long since been out of use, so she’d swiped one of the last ones she’d found-- just so she wouldn’t be enveloped in the total darkness that reached this place.
It was lonely down here, and somehow the silence was even more oppressive.
The chill was beginning to get to her, too. She huddled closer to the flame, trying not to move too quickly, so that she didn’t blow it out on accident. She was careful of the rope and cuffs too, as to not burn herself.
She was tired. She was hungry.
And she really, really wanted to go home.
These were the thoughts that dominated her mind. Even as she passed the monotonous black stone she’d been staring at what seemed like forever, she was too weary to bring herself to think of anything else. Even when something strange jutted from the wall, Ochako thought nothing of it. Just another manmade structure…
Until she drew closer.
And saw that it was a metal column, embedded in the wall.
Dread steeping through her lungs, she continued to find another, not even a hand’s width apart. And then another, and another. Slowly, she removed her hand from around the flame, allowing the light to spill over the bars.
It was exactly what she knew she’d find here.
Still, she felt ill.
She couldn’t see very well inside it, and thank goodness, it was completely vacant. Still, she noticed the wooden bar mounted about halfway up the wall-- and the rings that hung at small intervals, same as the floor. No doubt once used to chain prisoners who became enemies of the castle’s lord.
Muted horror plucked at her spine.
She couldn’t imagine being left in a place like this. Bound and forgotten, left to rot.
But then she looked at her own hands, through her pinned veil, wondering how different she was, really. She’d been left in a dark place alone, too. But confinement?
She moved on, before she could imagine any such scenarios, with no happy endings.
Light spilled out. More cells, with the same. Broken chains in one. A rusted iron ball in another. Some wooden table with bolted shackles she was sure had lovely uses like tea and family dinners. Yet nothing that looked like a hiding place. At least, one she could stomach sitting in.
After another long while, Ochako winced. Something burned across her soles, and he had to stop to examine it.
She reached her hands out, precariously using the wall for support, and turned her foot up as she leaned her shoulder against the wall to keep her balance. Yeah-- glistening pinkish-red blisters peeked through worn holes in her stockings. She grit her teeth as she tried setting it back down again, on the cold stone. It was soothing and painful at the same time.
Crap--
She moved to take her hands off the wall, to reposition herself back on her feet. But then her eyes widened. She ran her hands over that wall, and realized that no, it wasn’t a wall at all.
The candle shined over it.
It was a door!
Ochako tried not to bounce too heavily in elation, given her blistered feet, but this-- this is what she’d been looking for. And depending on what was on the other side, she could rest, and plan.
It didn’t have a lock.
This was the happiest she’d been-- since telling her parents goodnight for the final time.
With a firm turn off the handle, Ochako pushed her way in, casting a glance at what corners of the room the light spilled over. All she could really see was boxes.
She pushed farther in, letting the light show completely. Yes, there were crates, stacked everywhere in the small room. Even low rafters bore crates, of all shapes and sizes, something Ochako would never have imagined for a castle of this size. She stared in confusion, for just a moment.
But then, her belly began to rumble and she realized-- crates could have edible goods inside!
She rushed forward, setting her candle down swiftly but gently. Her mind raced with images of dried fruit, or salted meat. Something that would sustain her as she recovered her energy. Her grin grew wider as nails on the crate began to give, and she cheered as she managed to pop the lid off finally.
Eager for anything, she reached inside.
And grabbed something very solid.
Confusion overtook her once more, as she removed her hand from the box. The object was weighty-- and as she pulled it into the light, she saw why.
It was a silver candelabra, sparkling almost, and intricately carved. It held no candles, and no scratches. It was nearly pristine. She imagined it would fetch quite a fair amount at the market, as it had clearly barely been used.
Looking inside, it was more of the same.
She sat back on her knees, glancing over the room anew. No food? Just… furniture? Decorations maybe? Surely a whole storage room wouldn’t be dedicated to simple stuff like this.
Hunger pangs still demanding her attention, she reached for the next box.
Her belly rumbled again--
But something rang funny to Ochako. Because this time, she heard it. She didn’t feel it.
Muscles stiffening, she understood that something was very, very wrong. The air had shifted in that little storeroom. And Ochako knew that she was no longer alone.
Very, very slowly, she turned around, placing the spoon she held quietly on the floor.
Only to come face to face with a fox the size of a wolf, golden in color with wild spiked fur that threatened to rip her to shreds with only that alone.
It was growling. Ochako stopped breathing.
A contest of sorts ensued, a contest of wills, as Ochako stared into the fox’s red eyes, intelligent eyes, not daring to move. She tried to remember what her father said about encountering wild animals, but all cognitive thought left her in that moment. It was just her, and the beast before her.
It bared its teeth, sharp as daggers, making Ochako yelp as she reached for the spoon, for something, some kind of makeshift weapon.
That was her mistake.
It pounced, snarling maw open and hissing as it threw its claws at her and dragged her down onto the stone, the spoon clattering piteously away.
Ochako turned her head, this way and that, as the fox nipped at her face and sent raging saliva splattering against her clothing. Its paws, so heavy, crushed her chest to the ground. She couldn’t breathe. She tried to reach for something, anything, but one paw settled decisively on her cuffs.
Decisively? Did foxes move that decisively? She knew they were clever, but--
Another snarl, and one more nip at her face sent Ochako reeling. One bite unpinned the veil from her hair and she felt it loosen. She couldn’t, it was too much, she-- all that to hide from the Terror and she would die here, alone in a dungeon by some wild animal--
She opened her eyes.
And for a split second, met his.
His.
It’s male.
Something must’ve passed over her face, because for a split second, the fox’s lips closed, just a little. Before she had time to question such an expression on such an animal, though, Ochako did what she’d always done, back at the village, ever since she was little.
She hiked her knee up, mustering as much force as she could.
And made contact underneath the fox’s tail.
It howled, a mix of shock and pain, and the manlike agony upon himself might’ve amused Ochako in any other situation-- but now, she shoved him off, shoved him away, and stood back on her blistered feet and ran to the door. She didn’t spare a single look back as she threw it closed behind her, sprinting back down the hallway in the same direction she’d come.
She ran.
Past the cells, past the stone, past the candles and the water. She even ran past the stairwell that had led here. Her feet bled but she didn’t stop. She… she wanted to stop.
All she’d been doing was running.
All she’d been doing was planning, and--
And hoping, and stewing, and wishing. And all it had led her to, all it had taught her, was that no matter what, it would all be in vain.
And she…
Was tired.
She was tired of running.
So she collapsed, there against the dungeon wall. She collapsed, and curled up, and held herself close, in the cold and all alone.
And she cried. She cried, harder than she had in all her life. Heartbroken sobs that ricocheted through the ancient walls, amplifying her misery in an echo chamber
Finally, she allowed herself to cry. For the wounds. For the fear. For being stuck in this place. For all the girls who had gone through this before. She missed her parents, and cried for them too. She wanted her parents. She didn’t want to be alone anymore.
Green. Green appeared in the corner of her eye.
No…
That was not what she wanted. Didn’t the universe see that? She had tried so hard-- wasn’t that worth anything? She cried even harder, as the green came even closer, until it was right upon her.
But she wasn’t done yet.
“Leave me alone!” she shouted, at the top of her lungs, with all of her heart, swatting her anchored hands towards the green thing that had been stalking her ever since she was forced into this place.
She wasn’t expecting it to do anything but anger the creature. In fact, she was ready for this to be her end. But she refused to go down without a fight.
Instead, what she got was the green thing giving completely under her blow, and a strangled squeak as an emerald blur shot across the room.
Ochako blinked, looking at her fist. Surely she hadn’t--
Another squeak stole her attention. Ochako was totally unsure what to expect, but… it definitely wasn’t this.
A little bat laid out on the floor, dazed eyes clearly trying to make out something, anything, in the space around it, wings stretched out, although one was bent at a funny angle-- one which, with one look between her fist and the wall, Ochako was sure she’d caused. Guilt immediately replacing the fear, she crawled over to it. “Oh my gosh! Are you okay?”
It didn’t respond. Because it was a bat. But still, Ochako couldn’t help but feel the sympathy swell in her heart allow her to reach out. Oh, in her anger, she’d caused this--
However, the bat apparently sensed something in its near vicinity, because he suddenly regained his senses and scurried to the corner.
Its back was to her. And was it…. Shaking?
Ochako’s guilt tripled. “Hey, hey,” she cooed, slowly moving her hand closer. She didn’t want to scare it worse. “It’s okay, look--”
Carefully, gently, ever-so-slowly, she cupped her hands beneath the bat and lifted him off the ground. The poor thing probably didn’t even notice, because it was still hiding behind one wing. For some reason, this got a small smile out of Ochako. She leaned closer, trying to get on the little guy’s level. “See? It’s fine. I’m not gonna hurt ya.”
Lowering his wing, the bat stopped shaking, blinking his eyes a few times. He seemed to realize he was in her hands and--
Promptly tipped over again.
“Oh, oh--” Unsure what was wrong, Ochako tried to fold her hands into a bowl-like shape, to better cradle the bat as he righted himself. As she did, her unpinned veil fell away from her eyes, and she finally got a good look at him. He was… the strangest little bat she’d ever seen, that was for sure. He had normal proportions, but he was so covered in curly green fur that he seemed to only look like some sort of puff ball. His fangs were barely there. And he had darker markings on his cheeks, as well-- they reminded Ochako of freckles, although that was absurd. Freckles? On a bat?
But perhaps the most telling of all were his eyes. So wide they took up half his body, and so… expressive. She swore she could see human emotion there. They were intelligent too… in just the same way that the blonde fox was… when he’d landed on top of her in the dungeon…
The bat finally seemed to reorient itself, giving its body a little shake, and then launched into the air.
Or, tried to, anyway.
Because the wing Ochako had knocked against the wall immediately folded on itself, and he spiraled back downwards.
Ochako lunged to catch him. “Oh, your wing-- does it hurt?”
She thought nothing of it when he seemed to… nod. She shook it off, pursing her lips. “Here. I think I can help.”
She sat the bat down, and with his big eyes he watched her as she reached up to her elaborate braided crown-- and with the aid of the fox’s attack, was finally able to pull that stupid veil from her face. It was almost liberating, to be free from it, and even more so when she tore it into one short strip.
She gestured to the bat. He looked confused, but extended his wing anyway.
“I’m so sorry,” she said, as she delicately took the thin, leathery appendage in her fingers. It did look very fragile. “You just scared me. It’s not an excuse, I know but-- I think… a lot of things in this place are trying to hurt me. And I thought you were one of them…” She looked in his eyes. “You were following me, weren’t you?”
He nodded again, and she set about layering the strip. Gosh, this was so hard with her hands chained. “I was sent here as… a punishment, I think.” She shook her head, tying off the knot. “Not sure why I’m saying all of this to a bat. But.”
She chuckled, leaning back against the wall again. “Maybe I am that desperate to have someone right now.”
The bat looked at its wing, then at her, then back at its wing again. Beating them experimentally, he raised himself off the ground again. He could fly.
Ochako smiled. “There ya go. Not sure if you had someplace to be, but at least you can get there now. Even if it is the Terror...”
She meant it in earnest-- but then the bat started doing something strange. It beat its wings, as if it was miffed, its eyes narrowed. It moved closer to her. Before she could even speak, it landed on her shackle, examining it with a look that rivaled even some humans she knew.
“What…?”
And then, from the bat’s other wing, emerged one claw. He stuck it in the keyhole, and started twisting back and forth.
Ochako watched on in amazement. Surely it couldn’t…
But there it was. A click. A shink. A snap. And the heavy metal shackle fell from her wrist, clanging to the dungeon floor below.
“Stars above,” Ochako said, but the words barely left her mouth before the bat moved on to the other side. He repeated the same maneuver, and the cuff fell off.
He alighted to the center, and with one bite from his deceptively sharp fangs, even the ropes fell away.
Ochako rubbed at her wrists, red and raw, in wonder. She looked down at the little creature… who now looked like he was smiling, eyes shining with contentment.
She shook her head. “But why--?”
He raised his wing. But then he put it back down, shyly, looking as bashful as a bat could get.
Returning the favor? Or maybe…
Reaching out her hands again, now free this time, Ochako picked up the little fluffy creature. He didn’t look perturbed this time at all. This time, there was warmth in her. And for the first time in a long time, she smiled knowing that maybe, she wasn’t as alone as she thought she was.
“I’m Ochako Uraraka… and I’m guessing you aren’t the Terror.”