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Ochako gripped onto her angelic spear hard enough for ridges to form in her palm. A set of silver wings flared out behind her. As she zipped past a storefront selling human eyes, Ochako averted her gaze while bile crawled up her throat. Hell sure was something else.
No matter how many exterminations Ochako had under her belt, the sight of fires constantly raging in dumpsters and the persistent stench of piss never got any easier to endure. Several feet ahead of her a demon with gray moth wings fluttered past a radio tower. Ochako bit on the inside of her mouth hard. The audacity of that demon to fly around in broad daylight on extermination day and think that they could make it out unscathed.
Speeding through the sky, Ochako pulled off her mask as it pressed against her eyelashes, blurring her vision. Glowing like a silver beacon, Ochako grabbed the moth by the wings. And despite the moth demon trying to defy its instincts and keep distance from the light Ochako exuded, the angelic spear sunk between its ribcage.
As bones cracked, blood spewed from the demon, spilling into Ochako’s mouth. Not missing a beat, Ochako dropped the demon, letting it cascade toward the ground while Ochako continued to soar over alleyways. Sinners’ blood sloshing in her mouth was no reason to give pause.
After all, there was a quota to reach.
A quota that went hand in hand with a promise that her parents could rise to the clouds of heaven once their time had come. Because like All For One, commander of the fleet of exterminators, had always said, “If you prove your worth, odds are that you were raised by good parents and that they deserve a place here too.”
Footsteps echoed from an alleyway below, making Ochako shake her head. Sinners would need to be a lot stealthier about making their escape if they wanted a chance at survival. But at least it would be all the more easy for Ochako to reach the sort of numbers that left All For One flashing a distorted grin at her.
Zipping down toward the footsteps, Ochako emerged in front of a kid cowering at the dead end of an alley. His eyes were a deep black abyss. Likely a cannibal. Eyeing the thin limbs beneath a freshly ironed blazer, Ochako narrowed her brows. This would be an easy kill.
With the end of her spear clinking against the cement, Ochako froze. Every rational voice in her head screamed that the sinner deserved their fate – that an extermination in hell was nothing more than the culmination of all the bad decisions they had made in life and beyond the grave.
But all Ochako could see was a kid, his face still full with baby fat, quivering in front of her.
And sinners didn’t age. Swallowing hard, Ochako pictured the lithe form of a child set in a coffin. If someone had reached out to help this child in life, would he have been the one holding the spear.
Not sparing a moment to look over her shoulder, lest other angels notice her unease, Ochako pressed her lips together with determination. Pulling back her spear, Ochako waved at the sinner to run away. But just when the sinner had rounded the corner and relief had pooled into Ochako’s chest, a blade sliced at her leg.
“You fucking traitor!”
Ochako didn’t need to see behind the horned mask to recognize the grating voice steaming with anger. Bakugou knocked all the wind out of Ochako as she shoved her hard enough against the pavement to rip the fabric of her uniform open. Grappling against Bakugou in an attempt to flip him off of her, Ochako heard the sharp swish of a dagger.
Flashes filled her vision as the blade dug into her face. Hot and cold shivers coursed through Ochako as the nerves severed in one swift motion, leaving one eyeball rolling onto the cement. Muffling a scream, Ochako bit her tongue bloody.
As Bakugou pounded a victorious fist in the air, Ochako took advantage of the opening and kicked him in the gut hard. While Bakugo wheezed and fell back, Ochako hobbled out of the alleyway. Even as her scattered ribs screamed at her, she continued pressing forward.
She could still hear Bakugou’s string of curses echoing after her for what felt like miles.
Once the sound of blades slashing finally dulled, Ochako slumped against a brick wall. But as she clutched onto her empty socket dripping gold, Ochako only dug her nails deeper into the flesh. Because she deserves to feel every ember searing away at her veins, every ounce of pain. Bakugou had been in the right to slash at her – after all, Ochako had failed to complete her one job. To do her part to ensure that the golden gates of heaven remain unbreached at all costs.
Besides, after all the souls she had reaped what difference did one singular display of mercy even make?
Turning toward the scarlet sky, Ochako wondered whether it was possible for angels to bleed out. And as the throbbing continued to pound through her skull Ochako’s world went dark.
Ochako awoke to a soothing pressure against her empty socket. The simmering fires and wails in the distance had quieted down to such an extent that Ochako could’ve fooled herself that she wasn’t trapped in hell if not for the ever-present smell of sulfur. Groggily shifting against the brick wall, Ochako pulled one eyelid open and gasped at the figure in front of her.
Deep glowing gold eyes. Fangs. Claws instead of fingernails. Ochako zeroed in on the belt of the blonde girl crouched in front of her. No weapons in sight aside from the angelic spear Ochako had held in a death grip even while unconscious.
But just because the demon was unarmed didn’t mean that she couldn’t pry Ochako’s spear away from her. Before Ochako had the chance to scramble away, the girl placed Ochako’s hand on the cloth she’d been applying pressure to the wound with and let go.
“Hi, I’m Himiko. Nice to meet you, Miss Exterminator.”
Stunned, Ochako raised a hand and waved back awkwardly. Whipping her head around abruptly to the pool of gold blood surrounding Ochako. Her eyes lit up like lanterns at the sight.
“Wow! Your blood is the prettiest I’ve ever seen.”
“Thanks?” Ochako furrowed her brows. How could blood even be pretty? Besides, all angels bled gold; it wasn’t anything special. Though Ochako supposed that it was rare for demons to see angels bleed.
“Like red has been my fav color for ages – but I think you’ve got me sold on gold now.” Humming to herself, Himiko slowly leaned down and licked the puddle of blood. Frowning, Himiko smacked her lips together. “Aw, I thought it would taste special. Tastes the same as regular blood.”
Ochako’s jaw went slack. “Wait? Are you saying that everyone in hell drinks blood?”
Himiko laughed as she pulled out a roll of bandages from her jacket pocket. “Of course not. It’s an acquired taste. I think it’s pretty yummy though.”
Ochako’s mouth opened and closed almost instantaneously. There was no point in questioning the finer details of Hell’s cuisine. After years of indulging in heaven’s endless frozen yogurt buffet, Ochako doubted she’d ever be able to really grasp what apparently made blood so delicious.
As Himiko looped the ends of the bandage she’d been tying around Ochako’s leg into a bow, Ochako cleared her throat. “Why are you helping me?”
“Someone who’s hurt. Duh.”
Sighing deeply, Ochako nodded toward her spear. “But don’t you see what I am? Aren’t you supposed to want to see me in pain? Or better yet double dead.”
“Maybe. But an eye for an eye makes the world go blind.” Himiko flushed bright red. “Whoops. Sorry. That was poor wording.”
“Eh, I’ll have to get used to it sooner or later,” Ochako laughed.
Smiling softly, Himiko brushed her fingers against Ochako’s and applied more pressure to the angel’s empty eye socket. “Seriously though. I don’t think you’re an evil person or anything.”
“Why? Because angels are supposed to be good?” Ochako grimly ran her fingers along the edges of her once silver wings that had gone ashen. “Too bad. I’ve fallen.”
“No, not because you're an angel, silly.” Leaning in, Himiko whispered into Ochako’s ears. “I saw you let that demon escape.”
“That doesn’t change how many people I’ve killed.”
“Yeah, that won’t bring them back.” Himiko took Ochako by the hands, filling her with the sort of warmth she hadn’t felt in ages. “But redemption has to start somewhere, right?”