Ren winced as she took a step back instinctively and the shards of glass from the shattered ornaments crunched beneath her feet. She could feel the jagged shards threatening to tear through her slippers and into her skin but the threat of pain barely registered as fear began to hijack her nervous system. The figure before her, only half illuminated as he stood, silhouetted against the sunset, removed his hands from his eyes slowly. His face, painted with that menacing smile, tilted downwards to observe her through blue eyes, small, with a laser-like focus that bore into her skull.
"Hello, little Ren," he said with ill-placed familiarity. His voice was soft, raspy, trembling a little with an effort to control himself. As if he were a monster trying not to scare away a tiny bird, he lowered his hands gently, not making any sharp movements and took in the sight of the frightened teenage girl in front of him.
She couldn't find her voice, like a vice around her larynx, fear and shock clamped down around it, preventing her from speaking.
Suddenly, a voice sprang to life in Ren's mind, telling her not to panic, to figure things out, to play along and get to safety. Her heart raced as a chilling thought ran through her; if this villain was here for money, if he wanted to steal from her or vandalise her home, he would have done it by now …he was here for her. This thought brought unwanted tears into her grey eyes as a she swore at herself in her head; don't be a fucking coward.
Ren closed her hands into fists, pushing her nails into her skin as though the pain might shock her brain back into working properly. Her eyes darted to the Murakami painting that hung above her fireplace in the living room. Hidden beneath its frame was a panic button, if she could just get to it-
"I wouldn't bother," the villain said, reading her mind. Ren flicked her eyes back to him just in time to see him toss a bundle of wires, evidently snapped and torn with great force, onto the couch between them. "I disabled it," as he said it, a single, unwanted tear escaped Ren's eye and spilled down her cheek. Seeing her cry, the villain threw a hand up behind him and rubbed his neck almost in embarrassment as though what he had thought was an endearing entrance was being taken the wrong way. He held up his hands to signal he meant no harm, "I didn't mean to scare you," he said earnestly. "In fact," his eyes lit up as he reached into his coat and pulled out a package wrapped in brown paper, a single white string tying the paper together, "I brought you a Christmas present!" Before he could move towards her, and in an attempt to prevent her lips from trembling, Ren lifted her chin at him.
"What is it?" The villain smiled as he heard her voice.
"Oh good, you can talk," he grinned, "I was beginning to think you were better on the page," Ren gulped; so he knew her writing. Had Shoto been right? Was this what he meant when he told her her writing could be dangerous? The media heiress did not smile but did not flinch at his words, she waited for his answer. The stranger's smile widened as though he knew, as a journalist, it was her curiosity that would make things go his way.
He nodded towards the package in his hands, "it's a matchstick," but Ren eyed the package; it was far too big to be a simple matchstick.
"What do you mean?" She asked, her voice becoming clearer as her fear began to succumb to her attempts to calm herself down.
"You and I aren't so different, Ren. We both see through this hero-worshipping society bullshit. The system is beginning to crack under the pressure of your words," he acted as though he were paying her the highest complement he could, "but if we worked together, we could set it all on fire." Ren tensed as he began to walk towards her, "you're just like me, Ren. You need a little bit of chaos to feel alive, don't you?" He watched her take another step back, the sound of her shattered Christmas ornaments turning to sparkling shards beneath her slippered feet. "I carry a message from Stain."
As he spoke, Ren's initial panic began to crystallise into something sharper. Her journalistic instincts, honed through months of navigating complex political landscapes, kicked in despite her fear. She catalogued every detail – the scars mapping the villain's skin, the cadence of his speech, the way his eyes gleamed with fervent belief. This wasn't just a random attack; he had sought her out specifically, had disabled her security. He needed her to hear this message, to take the package. That meant she had leverage, however slight. Ren's mind raced, analysing potential angles. If she could keep him talking, maybe she could glean more information about him, about Stain. But she had to get to safety before anything else.
"If you have any information about the hero killer, I can call the police and we can-"
"Police?!" Ren jumped as he shouted, sharp and shrill into the air, the sudden camaraderie he felt with her fading into something dangerous once more. "Don't make me laugh. They're just dogs for the heroes. This isn't about law and order. It's about exposing the lies, the corruption, all of it." But Ren held her ground.
"I report on policy, not crime," she explained slowly, calmly, as though speaking to someone mentally unstable. "I'm not even a real journalist, I'm just a student."
"Don't be so humble, little Ren," why did he keep calling her that? "Your work is already stirring malcontent in the masses. Your daddy's media empire is part of the fucking problem! But you have the power to use it to spread some real truth!" Each word got louder, with each step he took towards her she could feel the temperature in the air spike. The malice, the pure hate in his voice pulsated in her eardrums. "Make people see the rotten, filthy cores their heroes hide from them, Ren!" He moved from happy to see her to pure anger in the same moment, his unpredictability, his hate, shook something inside of Ren that she had not felt since she was a little girl. Unwillingly, big tears pooled at the bottom of her eyes before spilling over onto her cheeks. "Please," suddenly he was pleading with her as he approached, his long dark coat almost licking the floor as he did so, "just take it," Ren felt her breath catch in her throat as he reached down and grabbed her right hand. She felt paralysed, held in place by those manic blue eyes, completely his prisoner. Her tears felt cold against her skin. "Here," he attempted to place the package in Ren's hand as he held her palm up towards him but Ren's hand felt weak, it could not grip around the package at all. Her eyes were caught on the burns, the scars, the piercings that made him so intimidating.
Suddenly, he stopped. The package tumbled out of his hands and onto the floor, Ren jumped at the sound of something solid hitting the kitchen tiles and shuddered as she heard the package roll away from them.
The villain, who had been looking down at Ren's hand expectantly, moved his hand further down her arm, pushing away her winter coat to reveal her wrist. His eyes caught sight of something on there, he pulled her hand up to his face and inspected her skin as though reading a map. A smirk began to form on his face, "who have you been playing with, Ren?" Her heart stopped. He grabbed her left hand suddenly and inspected her other wrist. After a moment of excruciating silence, the villain threw his head back and laughed, a manic, devilish cackle that vibrated through his entire body. Ren winced, unwanted tears relentlessly falling down her face.
He held up her right wrist in front of her face so she could see it too. A small red mark that looked like a thumbprint marked her skin; "heat burn on your right," the villain teased and held up her other hand, "and freezer burn on your left." His eyes flicked down to her legs; "Are those to match the carpet burn on your knees?" Ren felt her stomach drop, her brain stopped functioning properly; had he figured it out? Did he know Shoto? What the fuck is happening?
The villain leaned in close, peeking through her hands that he held up in front of her face, "should we give him something to worry about?" Before Ren could even register what he said, he released her hands and reached towards her neck. She could barely get out a scream as his fingers wrapped around her breakable throat. A heat, like nothing she had ever felt before seared her flesh, a beautiful colour of silver and blue sparked in front of her eyes before the villain seemed to retract his hand in surprise.
Ren stumbled backwards, holding onto her throat, her eyes streaming with tears of pain and fear. Before she even realised she had fallen to the floor, a blood curdling scream escaped her throat which still burned with the same intensity as when they first touched.
The villain dropped to his knees, observing at her as though she were science experiment with fascinating results. He had noticed the way her body reacted so intensely to his quirk, something he had not been anticipating. He had barely touched her. The girl shuffled backwards, into a corner of the kitchen, until her back hit the wall and she could retreat no further.
"What secrets are you hiding, little Ren?" He asked her but terror consumed her. This man, this maniac, could kill her now if he wanted to. Ren's was held hostage by fear and the pain in her throat, she brought her knees to her chest and wrapped her arms around her legs. Burying her face into her knees, the young woman cried as the feelings of violation, pain and terror consumed her. She barely even registered him leaving.
Shoto shifted uncomfortably in the elevator in Ren's apartment building; his internship at Endeavour's agency was coming to an end as Christmas approached and he couldn't wait for it to be over. He was covered in fresh bruises daily, exhausted physically of course but the sheer amount of patience and tolerance it took to be around his father was something he had not anticipated. The only respite from the daily torture was that things had changed so significantly with Ren; they had become more comfortable with each other, re-prioritised for each other, tortured each other in the best way imaginable. He smiled at the thought of hugging her after his long day; there was something about her body against his, the feel of her head as it fit perfectly under his chin, the warmth of her hug…it was so soothing to him. She was the perfect remedy for any bruise he could come home with.
With a ding that was jarring against the cheesy tinkling holiday music playing in the elevator, Shoto hoisted his bag back up onto his shoulder as the doors opened. He stepped out onto Ren's floor and stopped dead. The warm feeling of anticipation was replaced by the cold feeling of dread in his veins. The cheesy holiday music now sounded like something out of a horror movie as he spied, down the hall, the door to Ren's apartment wide open. This was more than out of the ordinary; the security conscious media heiress checked over her shoulder whenever she entered her apartment building, let alone left her door completely open.
As he approached the apartment he let his bag drop from his shoulder onto the floor with a dull thud. He removed his winter coat and felt a small pulse of cold run through his right side as he prepared for what he may find inside.
"Ren?" He called out as he walked into entrance hall but no warm, bright "hey, hero" echoed back like it usually did. The lights were all on, nothing looked out of place. As he turned the corner he could see, beyond the door to the living room, something sparkling on the floor in the space between the couch and the kitchen. "Ren?" A more panicked call of her name as he realised he was looking at broken glass. Unwillingly, his left side began to heat up as something like anger stirred up inside of him at the idea of Ren being in trouble. He entered the living room to see a bag of Christmas presents tipped over, its contents strewn across the floor. A small whimper sounded from the kitchen. "Ren!"
The sight of her, so small, smaller than the first time he remembered meeting her at three years old, broke his heart more than he had been prepared for. His voice broke as he fell onto his knees in front of her. The sound of him landing next to her caused Ren to look up in fear, her pretty grey eyes stained red; how long had she been here like this?
It took her a moment to recognise the person in front of her, as her tears blurred her vision all she could see was the comforting colours of red and white. Slowly, his pretty face came into sight; concern etched his face as he held out his arms to her. Ren moved forwards before falling into his arms, her hands curling into fists, gripping the dark fabric of his cardigan tightly, not wanting to let go. He wrapped his arms around her tightly, feeling her side pressed flush against him; had she always been so tiny? He looked down at her, shocked, almost speechless.
"Ren, what-" but he stopped short as he looked down to see a burn on her neck, hot with pain, red and angry, moments away from blistering. Something inside of the young hero snapped as he made out the shape of fingers rapped around her throat. His entire body went stiff as something he never felt before ignited in his veins; a primal, savage form of anger heated his left side. How dare anyone touch her!? Who the fuck touched her!?
Hero training kicked in before the feeling could settle in his bones; a calm washed over him as he reached his right hand to her neck and put his cool, icy palm against the burn causing Ren to wince and let out a quiet whimper of pain. Her tears seeped through his cardigan to his shirt as he tended to her wound.
"Ren, did someone break in?" Shoto asked her softly, she looked up at him, her bottom lip trembling as she nodded, "did they hurt you?" Ren nodded again as big tears escaped her eyes; the anger she felt at herself for being so weak, so easy to harm, felt like the weight of shame on her shoulders. "We need to call the police,' Ren shook her head suddenly, terrified of the idea of more strangers in her home but the care and reassurance in Shoto's mismatched eyes were enough to calm her down. "I'll be right next to you. No one is every going to hurt you again." Eventually, her eyes searching his face, Ren found all the strength she needed to agree with him.
Shoto called the police, letting Ren ice her burn as she curled up on the couch. He stood beside her while on the phone, watching her wince from the pain, look around in alarm at any little sound, grab his hand when he ventured too far from her. They agreed that it was not the time to reveal their relationship, it seemed irrelevant to tell the police right now. Especially when both their fathers worked so closely with law enforcement. Shoto would be her friend who happened to check in on her that evening.
When the police arrived they were shocked to see they had been called to the apartment one of the most famous women in Japan.
They were equally shocked to find Endeavour's son sitting at her dining table. The senior police officer was a friendly, middle aged man who looked at Ren affectionately as though she reminded him of his daughter. His partner was a younger, more energetic woman, greeted Shoto with familiarity as they had met earlier that week during his time at the agency.
As the police began taking a statement from Ren, Shoto had not anticipated how difficult it would be to just be seen as her friend. He listened intently, trying desperately to hide the anger he felt hearing her description of the villain and the incident. If he had only arrived a little earlier, perhaps he could have protected her. Watching her cry, recalling what happened to her, he had to clench his hands together tightly to ground himself to his position at the dining table, preventing himself from walking over to her and taking her in his arms. His jaw tightened as she recalled how the villain, who never gave his name, thought he and Ren were similar given her writing; this is what Shoto had warned her against but somehow I told you so were bitter words on his tongue. The young hero felt his shoulders slump a little; just when they had had a few days of normalcy, when things seemed to turn a corner for them, a brand new obstacle appeared. It's like the world was determined to make things impossible for them. He hated it, this choice he seemed constantly presented with; it was Ren or everything else. It scared him that he was slowly realising he would choose her.
He had to force himself to look completely neutral as the officers took photographs of Ren's injury. Beneath the harsh light of the flash of the camera, the burn looked painful, throbbing and bright red. Against her moonlike skin, underneath the dark waves of her hair, the harsh red colour called out to him mockingly, a blinding reminder that he had failed to protect her.
"Why exactly did the villain burn you, Miss Ishikawa?" When the police officer asked Ren this, Shoto tensed as her grey eyes flicked over to him. She could hear the villains words echo through her mind: should we give him something to worry about? Ren looked back to the officer.
"I refused to take the package," she said on a shaky breath, "I guess he didn't like that-"
"And where is this package?" Ren looked around the apartment and frowned.
"Maybe…maybe he took it with him when he left? I'm, not sure…"
"That's okay, Miss Ishikawa," Once they had finished asking questions they instructed Ren on how to improve security around her apartment. As they finished up, the young police woman winked knowingly at Ren.
"I think we're leaving you in good hands," she nodded over to Shoto who was engaged in serious conversation with the other officer.
The young hero showed them to the door and thanked them for their time. Re-entering the living room he found Ren, her arms wrapped around herself comfortingly, staring down at the broken Christmas ornaments on the floor. The gifts she had bought for him were scattered across the floor, broken, damaged, dirty now, a painful reminder of an evening she would rather forget.
Approaching cautiously, Shoto sat down on the couch beside her. "We need to get your locks changed-" before he could finish his sentence, Ren moved onto him. Hoisting one leg over to straddled him, she put her arms around his neck and placed her head on his shoulder. Her burn was soothed by the cool chill of his right side. For a moment Shoto was silent, just put his arms around her, hoping she could feel how sorry he was that he had not been there.
Suddenly the apartment felt very big, the two of them felt very small, like the children they once were had just finished facing the monsters in their back gardens. In this vast, scary world, they could create a small sanctuary in each other's arms; it was as though they each carried a piece of the oak tree with them at all times.
"Ren, we have to change your locks."
"But I live here now," she whispered and buried her face into his neck.
"You live…on top of me?" As he asked it, utterly bewildered, Ren laughed, something she thought she wouldn't be able to do for a while.
"Yes," she said once her laughter had subsided. She placed an index finger in the middle of Shoto's collarbone. A quiet sniffle sounded from her as her finger traced the invisible divider line between the hot and cold, down his chest. "I'll live on the cold side of the street," Ren smiled as their eyes caught hold of each other. Shoto took in her tear stained face, her delicate pout, the way her shoulders jumped a little as she sniffled in his arms.
"I'm sorry I wasn't here, Ren."
She shook her head at him. "Don't be, it's not your fault. You couldn't have known." She watched him nod at her but could tell her words did little to put him at ease. His eyes became a little darker, clouded by something like shame.
"I won't let anyone hurt you," Ren smiled as he said it, a brief memory of a promise he made her over ten years ago echoing in her mind.
"I know you won't." They fell into a comfortable silence, Shoto resting his chin on Ren's head, feeling the curve of her hips in her black dress as she absentmindedly traced the outline of his cardigans buttons. He could feel her relax in his arms, the to-do list of dinner, cleaning the apartment, changing the locks, restoring the panic button…all faded to the background when they were together.
"Ren," Shoto said suddenly, remembering something from earlier, "when the officer asked you why the villain burned you, you looked at me like you wanted to say something." Ren lifted her head and lowered her eyes from his, aware that she had to admit to him that she had lied to law enforcement.
"Oh, right," she slipped off his lap to sit next to him and pulled the sleeves of her dress down, over her wrists, hiding herself from him as though recounting the truth of what happened made her too vulnerable.
"What was it?" He pressed her.
"I think," Ren searched her brain for the answer, she knew what she thought had happened…but how sure could she be that she understood that maniac's words? "I think the villain knew you," she watched Shoto's eyes grow wide. "I think he knows who you are." She confirmed quietly.
"What?"
"And I think he knows we're together."
"How?" Shoto stood up to relieve himself of the sudden tension that took hold of his body; had the villain come after Ren because of him? He racked his brain for any memory of a scarred, pierced stranger with dark hair but he knew no one of that description. "How could he possibly know that?" Ren bit her lip as she watched him begin to pace around the living room in thought.
"He saw my burns and-" Shoto's head snapped over to her.
"What burns?" He asked, his voice low, wondering why she was unable to make eye contact.
"Please don't be upset-"
"Ren!" He shouted her name to warn her that now was not the time to withhold information. "What fucking burns?"