Bloodwalker | Chapter 53: Cobalt Blue
Trigger Warning/s: none
Pre-chapter notes: We’ve once again been thoroughly blessed by our very hard-working and skilled artists! Ari provided us with this very sweet sketch of MC in her school uniform, unsmiling (I’m sorry MC! It’s my fault you’re not smiling!). Ari also drew a more… traumatised version of MC here, based on how she would look if she was experimented on more. Ari, if you read this, I am afraid of your love for angst. Ari also created these hypothetical texts between Inasa and MC here and here, which are think are quite accurate and funny! Not only that, but they also provided this sketch of MC wearing streetwear. They included a snake around her neck since next year will be the year of the snake! I think it’s so cool! Thank you so much for your support as always, Ari (even if I am afraid of you)!
Asterix drew this wonderful visual of MC using her kusarigama! The dynamic pose displayed in this artwork is wonderful - I have a particular love for dynamic poses in art because they seem so difficult to master! Thank you and I appreciate your hard work, Asterix!
Venus provided us with this wonderful digital artwork of MC curled up in a ball, bandaged all over. I like the fact that she’s sitting in a pool of blood (I interpret this as her own) while her bandages are also stained with blood! It seems that she can’t get away from her own quirk! Thank you, Venus!
Finally, Crow drew this incredible piece using a mouse and MS Paint (I don’t know how, but her hands are magic). Here, MC is visibly trembling while using her quirk to potentially attack someone or defend herself. It’s such a wonderful piece and I will appreciate it forever. Thank you Crow!
Also, Gyokuro is a very expensive type of Japanese green tea. Rocket League is a video game that can be played on a console. Both will be referenced in this chapter.
Thank you to everyone for your patience!
Art: Michael Tiedtke on ArtStation! He has modelled this beautifully sculpted version of the Goblet of Fire from Harry Potter. I think the blue flames look so vibrant and beautiful! He has wonderful skills, and I hope you’ll support him.
BW MASTERLIST | PREVIOUS | NEXT
.
.
.
An all-seeing stare.
Aizawa knows it is the principal’s quirk that grants the little animal intelligence beyond human means, but sometimes, he thinks there is something a little too intelligent about Principal Nezu’s gaze. It is almost as if he can read minds. In a game of chess between Aizawa’s enigmatic nature and Nezu’s sometimes chilling smile, Nezu always puts him in check.
Of course, this is all nonsense. Malarkey. The principal has a good heart. Aizawa knows that the principal has his full trust, and he knows that likewise, Nezu puts full trust in him. He just can’t help but feel that sometimes the principal knows more about him than himself - uncannily so.
In front of him, the mouse-like animal sips a cup of gyokuro, his legs dangling high off the plush couch. “How are your students, Aizawa-san?” he asks passively. Eyes like dark marbles bore into his very being - never malicious, but not quite comforting either.
Aizawa has a feeling that Nezu already knows what he’s come here for, but he entertains the small talk. “Progressing. A few of them still need to choose their internships. I’m not particularly worried about that, though.”
There’s another uncomfortable pause while the principal takes another sip of his tea. Naturally, he had already offered a cup to the other man, but the ragged homeroom teacher had declined. And so at present, the conversation flows at the pace of Nezu and his drink. When his cup is set down on the dish, the discussion continues. After all, it is only natural hierarchy for the principal to be in control.
The chink of porcelain on porcelain indicates the talk’s revival. “But you didn’t come here to talk about your class, Aizawa-san. You came here to talk about one particular student, yes?”
“Yes.” The man isn’t surprised that he already knows. “Chibana Chiyo - I presume you’ve heard of her?”
“I’ve heard a few things here and there,” smiles Nezu, “about unusual behaviour patterns and her unusual lack of personal belongings, but nothing in detail. Will you be providing that information today?”
Aizawa hands him your student file and a pile of papers which the principal skims - a compilation of incidents and observations assembled by all your teachers.
“And what is your personal opinion of her?”
The erasure hero grunts. “Socially stunted would be putting it kindly,” he says, scratching the nape of his neck. “It doesn’t make much sense, but there’s a lot of basic things she doesn’t know. And it’s true that Chibana really doesn’t come to class with many materials. I’ve also heard some of her classmates comment on the food she eats. Not sure what kind of situation she’s living in. And at the USJ incident…”
“Hm,” muses Nezu, perusing your student file. “I assume you’ve tried contacting her father?”
“Reaching him is difficult.” Aizawa frowns, watching as his employer takes another sip of tea. “I’ve been able to get him to pick up a phone call once.”
Another all-knowing smile is thrown his way. “You’re quite worried about her, aren’t you?”
With an annoyed look in his eyes, the man averts his gaze. “I just don’t need any more casualties.”
Nezu flicks through the documents once more before setting them down onto the coffee table. “Why don’t you try contacting her middle school and inquiring about any previous bullying incidents? Let’s see what we can find out about her before UA. If you think it’s still grounds for concern, I’ll send a few associates to investigate.”
Aizawa checks your records, punches in the recorded number for your middle school, and dials. Three rings and they pick up. The principal watches on impassively as the man inquires about you with a furrowed brow, the lines on his forehead only deepening as his brief investigation continues. After that feels like about ten minutes, the call ends. Your homeroom teacher sends a weary gaze to his hero counterpart. “Interesting. None of her old teachers remember her.”
The principal hums. “And she’s not one to be forgotten easily, I trust.”
“The influence of a quirk, perhaps?” Aizawa suggests.
“Or perhaps she was never truly enrolled,” Nezu smiles.
.
.
.
In the dark, cold basement that the League of Villains calls their base, Shigaraki thinks he’s losing his mind.
It is not because of his recent failures to acquire you or make any significant moves in his plan. It is not because of his fifth consecutive loss in Rocket League. It is not even the stress of managing his recently gained League members.
Actually, that might be part of the reason, because it is the very fact that Toga Himiko will not shut up about a girl she’s, in her words, been meeting recently. Shigaraki Tomura has no interest in his members’ activities outside of the League unless they benefit him. In fact, he thinks he probably cares more about the number of hairs he has on his backside than whatever Toga is talking about.
“Mm, I like her, I like her, I like her! Look, don’t you think she’s cute?” Toga shoves her phone into the League leader’s face. Shigaraki grimaces. Given the length of time with which the girl has been talking, the man thinks his ears will fall off before the ragged layers of skin around his fingers and at the base of his neck have a chance to. He looks anyway, in hopes that it might get the high-schooler to be quiet.
On Toga’s phone is an image of a H/C-haired girl, fearfully glancing over her shoulder with bandages wrapped around her forearms and-
Wait.
Toga’s “friend” looks suspiciously like…
“Toga,” interrupts the blue-haired man with a low voice. “What’s this girl’s name?”
The blood-loving fanatic tilts her head questioningly. “I already said it! You really must’ve been distracted,” she pouts. “It’s Y/N! Her real name is so cute! I don’t know why she doesn’t use it more! I can’t wait to get more of her blood and become her. She invited me in, and her blood was so sweet too…”
Perhaps the new League members aren’t so useless after all. Shigaraki’s fingers twitch in thought as the blonde continues rambling. “So you know her address.” After a few more seconds, Shigaraki adds, “Oi, Toga, why don’t you bring her back here?” As strange as it sounds, if your blood can be a motivator for Toga, so be it. As long as she doesn’t kill you, that is.
Elated at the suggestion, the girl bounces on the balls of her feet. “Can I really?” Her smile widens. “If she lives with us, I can have a taste of her blood every day…”
“F***ing weird,” mutters Dabi, who’s also in the room.
As if suddenly remembering his presence, Shigaraki’s eyes zero in on him. “Dabi. Go with her tomorrow night. The two of you will find her and bring her to me.”
“F***.” he groans. “I don’t wanna babysit. What, you want a stakeout?”
“Do whatever you need. Just don’t cause a scene.”
“Yay! I can’t wait to see Y/N-chan again!” cheers Toga. Pouting, she adds, “She locked me out last time.”
Dabi rolls his eyes. “Sounds like a great friendship.”
.
.
.
Your home is wrecked - slaughtered. Despite being so empty, too. Loose scraps of paper are strewn over the floor. Your uniform has been turned inside out, and all your cupboards and doors are open. You don’t know what’s happening, but it’s clear that someone is after you.
But who? It wouldn’t have been Boss. With him, there would be warning signs of an outburst like this - even very subtle ones. And something like this wouldn’t benefit him in any way.
Overhaul could be a marginal possibility, but what would be his goal?
How did this happen in the first place?
You had been practicing. Practicing your ability to fly in the late hours of the night. It was a good time, since patrols were sparse in your particular area at this hour, meaning you wouldn’t get in trouble for unlawful quirk use. Unfortunately, you didn’t have any fresh blood available to you, so you had to use your own. You were spread thin, and that was dangerous. But it was a good time to be out. And clearly, good enough of a time for someone to ransack your home while you weren’t there.
At least you know one thing now.
That you need to run. To pack your only writing utensil and notebook and stash whatever food and clothes you can in your backpack and run. You have barely any possessions (and anything important like your weapons are already with UA anyway ) and you’re sure you don’t have anything worth stealing, so what else can the assailants be after but you?
But why?
And where should you run to?
It’s hard to think over the drumming of your heart, river rapids of adrenaline tearing through your body. You nearly rip your bag open trying to shove in your belongings. It’s hard to breathe from the effort. The adrenaline’s making it hard to focus. The adrenaline-
That’s not adrenaline.
That’s the thundering pound of two other heartbeats.
You turn around slowly, as if moving too fast could upset the eerie silence that is only now being broken up by discordant rhythms from the hearts of your unwelcome visitors. A silhouette leans against your doorway, blocking the much of the exit with their arms casually crossed.
“Nice to see you’re packed already,” the figure drawls. You faintly catch the scent of ash and smoke. “You’ll be coming back with us tonight.”
Another silhouette appears behind him - this one shorter, and whose movement is terrifyingly familiar. It moves with sharp, reckless dashes towards you, almost as if dancing.
Unpredictable.
Toga Himiko.
“Y/N-chaaaaan!”
Your real name. Of course she’s using your real name now.
The doorway is now entirely blocked by the two intruders, and so to escape…
You’ll have to go through both of them.
You don’t think you’ll come out unscathed.
“Toga-san? What are you doing here? Why have you brought someone?”
“Isn’t it obvious? We’re taking you back to meet our friends!” she cheers, arms taking a swipe at you. “You can live with us forever!”
“Friend?” scoffs her companion, still leaning against the doorframe. “I’m not your friend.”
You think about what it would mean to live with Toga forever.
Offering up your blood to her on the daily. Allowing her to claw at and maul you to her liking until you’re littered with marks and scars by her doing. Given how possessive Toga seems to be, you might not even be able to leave to the outside world.
It would almost be no different to your life now. Not to mention, Boss would definitely kill you.
“I am not allowed to come back with you,” you choke out, almost a whisper. “Please leave.”
You can barely see her face in the dark as the girl’s expression turns sour. “What do you mean… you can’t come with us?”
Time almost stops. The only sound you can hear is your own breathing, the heartbeat in your chest drowning out everything else.
In seconds, she moves. Toga leaves her position at the door and goes for your neck. You suppose this is her answer to your rejection.
You grasp your bag tightly to your chest and swiftly dash towards the exit, but the other figure moves to account for the gap left by Toga. A momentary flicker of cobalt blue in his palm has you faltering.
“Try it,” he sneers, “I’ll burn this place to the ground.”
Blood, you plead internally, please help me. If I go with them, I’ll die.
In desperation, crimson red thinly coats your skin - a crudely made covering that you have no choice but to trust in. You’re not sure if you’ll even make it out alive at this point.
You barrel past the gap under the man, who moves to block you. Knocked to the side by the impetus of your charge, he grunts in surprise, but quickly recovers.
As promised, Toga’s mysterious companion unleashes blue hell behind you. It licks at the blood covering your skin, charring it with blackened hues. You feel the heat above your skin.
But you’re out in the open, just in time. Any longer and you might have been dead.
Now you can escape.
You quickly shed the blood covering your body onto the ground, much of it lying blackened and unusable on the floor. Thankfully, you’re mostly unharmed, but…
This is bad. I wasted a lot.
This is no such time to think about that though, is it?
You keep running.
One breath in.
One breath out.
Blood emerges like roots from your back through your already-torn shirt from your earlier practice sessions, and fans out across the space behind you, coagulating into wings.
Nothing like a little more practice, right?
The ground around you becomes limned with cobalt blue and though you won’t look behind you, you now know that you no longer have a place to stay. You can feel Toga and her companion’s pulses clamouring with urgency alongside the crackle of flames; they’re gaining on you, which only means there’s one thing for you to do.
You’re lightheaded. You’ve lost a lot of blood. You flap your wings.
Still, you fly.
.
.
.
There have been no sign of your two pursuers in the past twenty minutes you’ve been flying. And flying aimlessly you have been - with no true direction or objective, except only to temporarily escape the clutches of the lunatics you’ve had the misfortune of meeting.
You probably shouldn’t be flying for much longer, though, lest you pass out midair. Though the limits of your stamina are much more than this, there’s not much you can do with a large portion of your blood missing. So, clutching your belongings tighter, you land yourself on the roof of another tenement building and collapse.
Peace at last.
But you’ll need to find another place to stay, because there’s no way you can go back to yours. There are slim chances Boss will curb his reaction if you tell him what has happened, and telling the school would probably not be a good idea either since they might start to question your family and living situation. Especially since your “father” on paper is really just a subordinate of Scarface’s, chosen at random for his convenience.
It horrifies you, but your last resort and only choice might be Inasa’s place. You really don’t want to bother him with this, and worse still, he might not even be able to house you. With internships approaching, everything is going to be a mess if you don’t have somewhere to sleep at night.
The sounds of the tranquil night are disturbed by something approaching. You have always thought that wingbeats sounded like a human heartbeat. Now, you hear both, and you whip around in fear that your assailants have caught up somehow, and that they’ll be able to take you with them now that they’ve weakened you to your current state.
When you see who it actually is, a new fear strikes your heart.
It’s a hero.
More specifically, it’s that man. The one whose wings you had touched upon your first escape from the compound. The one you had seen in passing on the street during a villain attack once. You do not know him well. What you do know is that he is far more powerful than you, in more ways than one.
Hawks.
He’s going to punish me for unlawfully using my quirk, you think, panicked. He’s going to put me in jail and then Scarface will be very angry with me and then-
“You shouldn’t be out all alone at this hour,” comes his voice, smooth and soothing. He lands in front of you and squats to your level. “You alright, little one?”
“U-Um…” you stutter, flinch and shuffle backwards. “I… I’m sorry. I just needed some fresh air.” There’s no way you can tell him that you were just being hunted by two strangers over twenty minutes prior. That would only invite more questions.
Hawks laughs. “You’re not in trouble. Don’t look so scared. Though, you shouldn’t be using your quirk like this. It could be dangerous for you, y’know?”
He isn’t going to put me in jail?
“Okay,” you whisper. It is then that you realise your wings are still out, so you quickly recall the blood back into your body, the remnants splattering behind you. The man with wings of crimson watches you curiously, before moving to sit down cross-legged in front of you.
“Nice quirk you got there,” he hums. “How’d you learn to fly?”
You fidget nervously with your bandages, averting his gaze. “…I learnt to fly because I liked your wings. And I saw you do it once.”
“Oh?” The man looks amused. “And when was that?”
“When you saved a bunch of people from a villain around here one time,” you mutter, trailing off, “and… maybe when I was really young… I think I might have touched your feathers…”
The hero smiles softly. “Oh? So you do remember me,” he says quietly. “I thought you might have forgotten since you were so young.” His grin grows wider, more familiar. “You’re so much taller now,” he laughs, moving to ruffle your hair. “Are you well?”
Fear shoots through your veins. You yelp and flinch at the contact. Eyes widening, the man removes his hand apologetically, scanning your expressions to ensure he didn’t accidentally harm you.
“Sorry,” he says, pulling back, “should I not have?”
“I thought you were going to hit me,” you blurt.
“Wha- why would you think that?” His expression darkens. “Has somebody been hitting you?” he asks, eyes flitting down to your bandages. He remembers how your forearms were bruised when he had first met you. He remembers that they’ve been covered ever since. “Are you hurt?”
“…no,” you say unconvincingly, crossing your arms over your chest self-consciously, “but you’re right. Maybe you would peck me instead. Because you are a bird man.”
“Do you see a beak anywhere on my face?! And hey, don’t change the subject!”
“…no.” You hang your head in shame. “You are right. You have no beak. I am sorry.”
The man sweatdrops. Though, not wanting to push you further, Hawks decides to take the leap at another one of the burning questions he has. “Then, can I ask you something else?”
You nod.
“Is there any reason why you go by a different name now, Y/N-chan?”
Your heart almost stops.
“I’m not allowed to say,” you whisper, curling in on yourself. “Please don’t tell anyone I have that name. Please. I’m Chibana Chiyo now.”
Something’s wrong. The hero can feel it, and he won’t ignore his instincts any longer, though he really hopes that for once, they’re wrong.
So he sits straighter and leans forward. “I won’t tell anyone. I’ll call you Chiyo-chan from now on.”
You look visibly relieved.
“On one condition.”
You stiffen. “…what is it?”
“You’ve got to tell me why,” he insists, “and in return, I’ll keep your secret for as long as you need.”
“I said that I’m not allowed,” you counter firmly, shaking your head. “I can’t. I’m sorry.”
“It doesn’t have to be now. You can tell me anytime. Just as long as you tell me one day.”
Now you’re in a dilemma. On one hand, if you refuse his request, the man could just shout to the skies your real name if he wanted to, and Boss would have your head. But on the other hand, you could accept his request, and just never actually tell him at all. You could just leave the man waiting on the possibility that you would, trusting in your promise, and as a result you’d survive another day. It’d probably make you look less suspicious too, if you complied. Would you feel guilty? A little. But self-preservation is a skill to be used at the cost of morality.
It never occurs to you that this is a weird promise for a hero to be making with a civilian.
It never occurs to you that he might be suspicious of you and your situation already.
“Okay,” you breathe, trying to look convincing. “I will tell you. Not now… but one day.”
He looks satisfied.
Now that you’ve truly met him properly, you can’t help but think that the contrast between the two of you is almost uncanny. Because are you not Hawks’ villain counterpart? The two of you, being like winged animals of the day and night? He, the hero of the skies, should be destined to roam in the sun while you remain shrouded in darkness. Oil and water - the two of you should never mix. You will never be a hero, and he a villain.
But the truth is he is being kind to you. He’s treating you the way your classmates do - as if you’re one of them. Like someone that belongs in the light. Someone with a heart of gold. Would he still be this kind to you if he knew who he was talking to? You, a soon-to-be murderer of his fellow colleagues? A future nuisance for him to eliminate during patrols?
Your late master had always hammered into you that heroes were liars, but you think a part of him never fully believed those words when he had said them. You don’t want to doubt him, but when you look at Hawks smiling warmly at you right now, you want to think that maybe the Adjudicator was wrong about some of them.
“Alright, it’s late. Time for you to go home now, yes?” Hawks reminds you gently, like the responsible hero he should be.
“…yes. Home time.” Not that you have one to return to.
“Should I fly you home?”
“It’s okay,” you tell him, sprouting wings from your back again, “I will go there myself. Thank you, Hawks-san.”
He waves. “Take care, little birdie. Or should I say little bat?” he chuckles, studying your wings again. “Oh, and before I forget,” the man says, taking a pen and notepad from his pocket, ripping out a page, scribbling something on it, and handing it to you, “call this number if you’re in trouble, okay?”
You take the page cautiously.
In messy writing, Hawks has scrawled a phone number.
“…is it really okay for me to have this?”
“Yes,” he insists. “This is my hero duty number. If you need help, just call it."
“…okay.”
“I’m serious, Chiyo-chan.” Hawks is no longer smiling. “If you’re in trouble, I’ll do what I can to come to you.” He turns to face the ledge of the building. “I’ll see you next time.”
Next time?
You’ve no more time to question it before Hawks takes off into the sky.
Now what are you to do? Sleep on the roof? Hide out in a tree at the local park? You’ve nowhere to go, and there’s no use wasting your energy flying around. You had only brought out your wings so that Hawks might not worry about how you’d get home. It’s not like you’re going to call Hawks’ number now and ask for a place to stay. In fact, you hope you never have to use his number. Entanglement with the heroes like this will only land you into more trouble.
In the end, you think you might knock on Inasa’s door in the morning.
Unbeknownst to you, a red feather hovers near you, out of sight.
Hawks wonders why he never hears you take flight.
.
.
.
Dabi: We grab her on three.
Toga: Okay!
Dabi: One, two-
Toga: Hi, Y/N-chan! We’re here to take you home with us!
Dabi: …Toga, you had ONE job.
.
.
.
Author’s notes:
Long time no see, everybody!
I’ve been adhering to some of your wishes and drinking more water recently. I know it is good for me, but I find it quite inconvenient given that it seems that I now have to visit the bathroom every five minutes. To combat this, I have taken to drinking water in bulk, so that I do not need to go during inconvenient moments. I am, quite simply, ahead of the times.
Taglist:@the-hangry-otter @kingexplosionmurda
BW MASTERLIST | PREVIOUS | NEXT
