The night was quiet again.
Ren walked through the sleeping city with his hood pulled low, hands in his pockets, his boots tapping faintly against the pavement. There was a lightness to his step now. Not from joy.
From release.
He whistled softly. A slow, lazy tune. Off-key. Aimless.
A death lullaby for the streetwalker whose body now cooled in the shadows of a dumpster.
His lips curled as he remembered the way her eyes bulged. The helpless kicks. That last little gasp.
It was beautiful, in its own fucked-up way.
"Perfect," he muttered.
But as the thrill began to settle, another hunger stirred behind his eyes.
Not just for another victim.
No.
Memories began to trickle in… of his past life.
Of the world before time turned backward and gave him this second chance.
Of them.
The pro heroines.
Bright. Powerful. Worshipped.
And how he broke them.
Ren's mind twisted back to that night—a nightmare seared into his memory like a brand.
Jirou. Cornered in the shadows, away from her classmates. Her glare had sparkled with fight—until he broke it.
Her quirk—the headphone jack—useless now. No screams loud enough to stop what was coming.
He pinned her down, shoved her against the cold wall. The panic in her eyes flared when he unzipped.
Thud.
His cock dropped heavy and thick between them—angry red, veiny, and already twitching with need. It wasn't smooth or pretty—it was brutal. Long. Ridged. Designed to split her in half, and nothing less.
Her breath hitched.
"No… no, don't—"
Ren didn't even let her finish. He grabbed her by the waist and forced her legs apart.
That's when he saw it—her cunt, pink and swollen beneath a soft, messy patch of dark hair. Untamed. Unshaven. Natural.
"Tch… didn't bother trimming?" he mocked, dragging his thumb through the curls. "You didn't think anyone would see this, huh?"
Her thighs trembled as he ran the tip of his cock along her slit—grinding slow, teasing cruelly through her folds.
Schhhlk… shlk… schlorp…
The sound of her dripping cunt clung to him already, slick and wet from fear or betrayal or something deeper.
"Fuck," he growled. "You're soaking. Didn't think a little hair would hide that."
Then he pushed in.
"HNNNNNNNhh—!! A-AHhh!!"
Squelch! Slap! Slap! Schlorp!
His cock pounded into her raw, forcing her open with every brutal thrust. Her moans tore out of her throat, high and broken—"AHH! Nnngh! Hahhh! S-Stopppp…!"
Her unshaven folds clung to him, her body twitching around every inch of him as he drove deeper—balls smacking wetly against her messy slit.
Slap! Slap! Slap!
"AHHNhh! F-FUCK—!"
"You hear that, Jirou?" he grunted into her ear, forcing her to listen to the filthy wet chorus. "Your little hero pussy's getting ruined… and it's loving every second."
He grabbed her headphone jack and stuffed it back inside her, the double penetration drawing another whimpering moan from her throat.
Her hairy mound rubbed against his pelvis with every brutal slam, her cunt gushing around him in noisy betrayal.
"A-Ahh! Hhhggnnn… nghh—noooo…!"
But her back arched. Her walls clenched. Her body wanted more, even if her mind couldn't accept it.
And Ren gave it to her—all of it—until her thighs quivered, and her pussy spat slick down her own legs.
Then he pulled out, leaving her twitching, gasping, her folds glistening, hair matted with cum.
Ren pulled the thick, white candle from his coat and lit it with a soft click.
Jirou was barely on her knees, trembling, broken.
"H-Hahh… please… it's too much…"
"We're not done," he sneered.
Without warning, he forced the candle deep into her ass. It slid in easily—her body too used, too open to resist.
Schlk… hiss… drip. Drip.
"AAAHhhHNN—!!"
Molten wax began to run inside her, hot and biting. She screamed—a real one this time—but it was choked by the tears and spit pooling in her mouth.
"You're going to remember this heat every time you sit down," he whispered, licking the shell of her ear. "And that hairy little cunt of yours'll remember the shape of my cock forever."
He leaned in close, mouth brushing against her ruined, flushed ear.
"Happy birthday, Jirou."
"Nghhh—AAHhh! Hhnnnngh—!"
He left her like that.
On the ground. Legs spread. Pussy still dripping, folds shiny and matted with hair and cum. Her asshole still stretched around the thick candle, wax dripping slowly down the curve of her cheeks and onto the floor.
Drip. Drip. Drip.
Her arms gave out. She lay on her side, twitching.
"H-Hahhh… I… I c-can't…"
She could still feel his cock inside her. Every ridge. Every brutal thrust.
And the worst part?
Her cunt still clenched. As if waiting for more.
Tears streaked her cheeks, hot and silent. Her breath rattled, but her lips didn't form words.
Only the candle remained lit—its flame flickering behind her.
Marking the place where she'd been used.
Marking the moment she'd broken.