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 “You-how did you find me?” Your eyes widened, stricken with panic.

The blood in your body ran cold with an overwhelming feeling of dread, as the two plastic bags slacked from your grasp and plunged to the asphalt below.

“Oh you could never escape me my little kitten. It was fate that brought us together on that night,” he chuckled darkly. He stepped out of the shrouding darkness and under the orange glow of a streetlamp. His swirling dark purple eyes sucked out every ounce of your energy the moment they met yours.

“You’re supposed to be dead. My flames… I made sure that no part of you was left untouched. There’s no way you could’ve survived that.” You accused in a fearful voice, not believing that this man was powerful enough to cheat death himself.

“Guess how I did it? Come on! Just take a tiny guess,” the man taunted. He awaited for your answer bending forward at the hip, arms folded behind his back with a sadistic smile.

“You-you’re not human…” You stuttered, one of your legs taking a wobbly step backwards.

“Aww so close!” The man dramatically declared, squinting his eye between his thumb and index finger.

“I would’ve been turned to dust, had that been my real body. You see, my good friend Twice made a clone of me for that night’s festivities. I couldn’t have possibly risked the chance of my real body getting hurt out there. Had I died, who would keep my precious collection company hmm?” He stroked your cheek, with a black leather glove cloaked in feigned sincerity.

“I told you didn’t I?  When you ‘ran away,’ I warned you that one day I’d be back to reclaim what I lost that night.”

You stumbled to the ground, your head aching in excruciating pain as the unwillingly lost memories rushed back to you.


It was the day after the attack on Tokyo. Every news station broadcasted the same story:

“A surviving eyewitness of last night’s attack was able to identify the villain that wreaked absolute havoc on the city of Tokyo. The underground ringleader known as, ‘The Puppet Master’ is a blacklist criminal that has committed a multitude of heinous crimes, most of them including gruesome murders.

He has been at the top of the Tokyo police force’s wanted list for the past five years. However, after fleeing the crime scene, police were able to identify a mysterious mud-like substance being left behind at every scene, including last night’s attack involving, ‘The Puppet Master.’

 Last nights’ devastating attack, resulted in the most number of civilian and pro hero lives lost in one single night, of all the history of Japan. Most importantly noted; the previous number four and number five pro hero couple, are among the deceased. There are no whereabouts of their child’s current location and status. She is being considered as a missing child’s case until further notice.”

The TV screen zapped to black.

“Everyone is talking about you boss! Your plan was a success! There’s no beating our boss The Puppet Master.”

“Indeed,” the man of interest replied.

“But what do we do about this child? Isn’t she that pro hero couple’s kid they were talking about on the news?” One of his henchmen pointed to the backroom with a bed, where your two year-old self laid unconscious.

“Ah, patience my friend; she will be of much use to us. I’ve seen the powers of her quirk up close, and she is indeed a rare and magnificent find. I simply had to have her for myself,” The Puppet Master continued to gloat in his victory of securing his prize.

“Then couldn’t you have taken just her soul, instead of lugging her entire body here?” The henchman scratched the side of his head with confusion written all over his face.

“You’re right, but oh how I love to see them squirm before they’re crushed.” The villain thought aloud with a tangible vicious intent.

“I need you to wipe her memory. I want her a fresh blank slate for me to paint my masterpiece.”

“Uh, are you sure about this boss? She is just a kid, how much trouble could she actually cause if she remembered who you were?” The Puppet Master’s right-hand female underling asked, standing alongside him as you lay asleep in the dimly lit room.

“We can’t take any chances. Besides, her soul will be mine and she will be long dead before she can cause any trouble.” The female felt uneasy about the whole thing, but with the most wanted villain being her boss, she wasn’t in a position to defy him. Unless she was willing to lose her head and have it hung over a burning mantle.

“I understand,” she took a seat beside you and pressed her fingertips to the sides of your head. Her quirk allowed her to erase the memories or even rewrite someone’s memories, as long as they were asleep and she had physical contact with them. The tips of her fingers glowed a transparent light blue, against your temple and skull.

“Erase this girl’s memories from the time of her birth,” the female recited the spell-like words.

You were lost in a deep dream.

You saw the faces of your parents as they sent you off to preschool that morning and you remembered how you went about your day at school. You saw them rushing out the door as a villain attacked the city, telling you “Stay inside honey, we’ll be home soon.”

 You saw as fires engulfed your surroundings and puddles of blood strewn everywhere. You saw how The Puppet Master forced civilians and pro heroes to fight against one another. You saw how the villain manipulated and killed your parents right in front of you, and how you were then made his target.  

You saw your quirk awakening for the first time as it took control over you. Then everything went dark.

When you awakened, your head was blank. You looked around the dilapidated room and to the faces of an unfamiliar man and woman standing next to you.

“Do you know what your name is little girl?” The tall slender man with purple eyes, bent down beside your bed to be eyelevel with you.

“No, mister. Who am I?” You asked feeling lightheaded as no thoughts crossed your mind.

“Oh, you’ll find out,” the man playfully answered.


As time went on, you viewed this mysterious man as someone nice, someone who would give you candy and let you play around his house with his friends.

 All until, the night he uttered these exact words, “Kill him (Y/N).”

Your three year-old self stood terrified in a dark and moist alleyway, surrounded by this man and his “friends,’ with a badly beaten guy against the brick wall of a dead end.

“Kill?” You couldn’t even fathom what the word, “kill” even meant, so why was this “nice” man asking you to do this?

“Yes, (Y/N).”

“You see that man over there,” The Puppet Master pointed to the struggling man at the far end, “He took something that doesn’t belong to him and if you don’t kill him, he’s going to come and hurt me.” The man stared at you with hypnotizing purple eyes. A sharp pain shot through your chest as you walked forward, your body having a mind or in this case, someone else’s mind in control.

And that would be the first time of many where you learned what it truly meant to kill.

Every time it was the same. The Puppet Master only needed to look into your eyes with his activated ones, before seizing control and bending your soul to his every whim.

That’s when you realized that the, “friends” he let you play with, were actually ruthless criminals. And the house you played in, was the house you were never allowed to leave.

Would the word, “psychotic” even apply to you in this situation? But it was only when he released his quirk and you were allowed to feel yourself losing your mind to insanity.

Their screams of agonized incineration pierced into your mind. The odor of putrid burning flesh, made it impossible to breathe without your insides wanting to come up your throat, and out through your mouth. No matter the number of heads you counted off each finger, every single ‘death’ was still so horrifyingly vivid. But when did it start leaving such a sweet, sweet, taste in your mouth? When did you start staring wide-eyed in anticipation and almost salivate, when you could see the light leave their eyes?

No, you were his mindless puppet.

It gorged on every inch of live flesh, devouring them all like a starved beast.

The thirst for blood was like no other.

Its ravenous appetite remained insatiable no matter the number of immolations.


Your life as a serial killing villain would continue, even as you walked the halls of U.A. The Puppet Master thought it would be a good way to keep intel on its pro hero staff and it’s fledging students.

Knowing full well of what your quirk was truly capable of, you never used it. It would automatically single you out as too dangerous and have you expelled immediately, defeating the whole purpose of why you were sent here in the first place. You would be the second student to be accepted into the prestigious school without having a quirk-that was known of.

You had no choice but to train and excel in hand to hand combat and make use of the support gear to keep up with the rest of the class. But that wouldn’t be enough in your second year of the sport’s festival, especially when your opponent was Katsuki Bakugou.

Bakugou ended up coming in first place in his first year of the sport’s festival, and this time would be no different if you didn’t put up a fight.

“Dammit, why the Hell did you even enroll in this school!” Bakugou yelled, with all your limbs pinned underneath him to the arena floor.

“This is the best damn school in Japan for Heroes, for Heroes, you hear me! Not some useless and quirkless nobody like you!” You didn’t even bother putting up a fight, you didn’t even want to come to this school in the first place. What difference would any of this make?

“I didn’t even want to come here. I don’t have some spectacular dream of wanting to surpass All Might, like you and Midoriya. I don’t have dreams at all. What right do I have to call myself a hero?  You have no idea of the things I’ve seen and the things I’ve done. I’m better off being called a…villain.”

You spoke with your head turned away from him and only loud enough so Bakugou could hear, and not the arena packed with thousands of people, or to the billions it was broadcasting live to.

“Are you fucking kidding me!” Bakugou barked in frustration and anger, causing you to stare at him surprised.

“So what if you’ve done some crap in the past! There isn’t a single person who hasn’t screwed up at one time or another. Who cares about that damn nerd or what the rest of else are chasing after? If you don’t have a damn dream, then make one! Stop wasting your time!”

You swallowed hard. A dream? Did you even have the right to have one?

“Those damn teachers must’ve seen something in your depressed ass if you made it this far. You got accepted into this damn school to be a hero, never forget what you are!” Bakugou screamed the last sentence, loud enough for everyone to hear, loud enough for your heart and soul to hear.

You didn’t want this life of crime and bloodshed. You never told The Puppet Master, that within your first year at U.A, you overheard him talking about the attack he instigated and took the major part in killing your parents. You remembered researching about the incident in secret and how all those articles allowed you to remember the memories of your parents until you were two. You knew you couldn’t say a word if you wanted to stay alive.

But no more. You knew your parents were pro heroes that risked their lives to save others and that everyone else in this school, and every other hero school, were training to do just the same. You couldn’t shame your parents anymore now that you knew the truth. And Bakugou was the one to break through your mask that you cowardly hid behind.

“I’ll do it too. I’ll be a hero!” (I will reveal how this round of the sport’s festival ended in a future chapter hehe.)


After the sport’s festival, you were able to establish your resolve of exacting your revenge on The Puppet Master, and without a word, you ran. You ran as far away as you could from that house, hoping he wouldn’t find you until the time was right.


Present Time

“It was you!” You realized in horror, your head snapping up to look this demon of a man dead straight into his abyssal eyes.

“Ding, ding, ding, we have a winner! I’m so happy you remembered the face that took you in after your parents died,” The Puppet Master spoke in awe.

“No, you used me.” You whispered in sorrow, as more memories flooded into your head.

 “You never really ‘ran’ away from me (Y/N),” he spoke snapping you out of your whirl pooling thoughts.

“I let you run,” he continued insolently.

“You what?” You looked at him bewildered, the last of your strength felt completely sapped from your body.

“I was waiting for just the right time to get rid of you, well after I made your soul all mine of course. It was always part of my plan, and I was so close of wiping that boyfriend of yours completely from existence too. But alas that lowly scum I put up to the job, failed miserably.” The Puppet Master sighed his forehead into his hand.

“What do you mean the villain failed? What does this have to do with Katsuki?” You were stunned; this man wasn’t making any sense.

“That attack on Deika City? The man with the telekinetic quirk that just so happened to wait, and attack Ground Zero at the last possible moment? That was all my doing (Y/N).”

Your breathing stilled.

“I knew if I could take away the thing most precious to you, you would come running back to me. Which would’ve made it all the more easier had that idiot died, instead of coming out unscathed. It would’ve been like old times (Y/N), such fond memories.” The Puppet Master relished in the moment in time, where it brought you the most pain and suffering.

The time you thought Katsuki was going to leave you alone in this cold world, when he was the only person who reawakened the real you.

“You bastard!” You sped towards The Puppet Master, your hands around his neck. It had been a long while since you felt the true intent to murder someone, and to devour every single piece of them. The familiar scent of decay and blood permeated the air around you.

“Awaken that beautiful black fire of yours, and your dear Bakugou will never regain his sight until the day he dies.”

“What nonsense are you spouting, you monster!” Your voice transformed into a demonic sounding one, as lightning and thunder produced from the night sky. Your grip only continued to tighten around his neck, but his eyes never flinched.

“I never told you why it is that I collect the souls of those I deem worthy.” You took in a short breath, eyes searching for the truth in his deceitful ones.

“Like yours, the souls contained within those glass bottles, have stronger wills, a stronger life force if you will. Even without their human bodies, I’m able to draw on their quirks through their souls. As I also know about the other facet of your quirk my dear (Y/N).”

Your mouth parted, how did he know? You don’t remember every telling, nonetheless even showing it to him.

“I’ve seen you use that weak white fire of yours, when you used it to heal yourself from one of our ‘outings.’ If I combine the raw power of this wonderful darkness seeping out you, plus your ability to heal, plus a willing soul, what do you think that equals?” Your vice grip loosened unknowingly at the realization.

“It’ll be increased a hundred fold. I could even use it to wake the dead, cut a man completely in half and he’ll be healed back to perfect condition. How do I know all of this? Because I’ve tried, your dear little mommy had quite the superb healing quirk; even I was shocked with how much it could do with this formula of mine.” He’s experimented, using her already suffering soul? What kind of sick and insane monster was he?

“As long as I have your soul containing the source of both sides of your quirk and another soul, I can grant you the impossible. Simply put, sell me your soul and I’ll give back Bakugou’s sight.”

This cruel and twisted explanation actually made sense to you. Your arms dropped down to your sides as you staggered back trying to regain your focus.

“Why didn’t you tell me I had this power! If I knew- if I only knew, he wouldn’t have to had suffered through all of that,” you cried.

“Even if I had told you, without my ability of containing the power of a quirk within an extracted soul, you wouldn’t have been able to do anything.”

You felt weak and useless.

A deafening silence fell, like the rain now pouring from the sky.

 “I’ll do it.” You answered with a sadness glooming over your face.

“Ah, wonderful. My plan has come into fruition-” The Puppet Master clasped his hands together in hungry excitement.

“I won’t run, so just give me some time.” You stood back onto your feet with your mind made up.

“Since you agreed so willingly, I’m feeling generous today. But don’t make me wait too long (Y/N), adieu for now.” Just like that he vanished into a foggy black vortex.

You picked up the heavy bags with an even heavier heart. The walk home didn’t feel nearly long enough.

“What took you so long? You look like a wet dog,” Bakugou eyed you from head to toe. Your face was pale and solemn, the tips of your nose and ears red from the cold outside.

“You should take a warm shower first (Y/N), otherwise you’ll get sick.” Mahiro whimpered and looked at you concerned.

“Since Bakugou got busted up, you two were gone for such a long time, I was lonely. It’s nice to have you guys back. Don’t you two just disappear without telling me next time,” Mahiro let out a woof while wagging his tail, as you held his head in your arms.

“Don’t worry, I’m not going anywhere.”