Chapter Eleven
Unhurried, a fog crept along the ground, freezing the stone of the road down to its smallest particles. Cold seized upon each new meter with a greedy grip, not thinking for a moment of retreating. Restless snowflakes spun in a gentle dance, falling haplessly onto trash cans and cardboard boxes in the alley. A monstrous, unbearable frost had seized upon this isolated stretch of the world, wrapping its merciless embrace around the unsuspecting residents of the small apartments nearby.
Through this out-of-season icy hell ran a figure dressed in summer clothing. Hair glued together by the unimaginable cold fell treacherously across a forehead, and from a mouth that kept falling open came puff after puff of warm air. From the neck to the brow, an ugly ragged slash ran across the skin, leaking red. The girl swayed from side to side, and when she noticed the dead end at the far edge of the alley, her now-feeble knees began to tremble, no longer capable of bearing her weight.
The woman, her skin the color of paper from terror and blood loss, opened her dry mouth and eyes in disbelief and let out something between a pitiful moan and a sob. Cherry-colored drops falling from the wound formed beautiful ruby frozen diamonds, crystallizing before they even reached the ground. Steadying herself against the wall, the victim turned in a panic, preparing to keep moving her heeled feet. Her breath caught when she saw the monster covering its own mouth, an expression of worry on its face. Frozen in place, she could only listen to what came next:
"Poor thing… why did you dodge…" The monster's teal eyes looked as though tears were about to spill from them. "This time hold still—I'll take your head cleanly and put an end to all this unnecessary suffering."
The click of "sympathetic" Doma's shoes beat a resonant rhythm in the girl's ears, and in her eyes a fire ignited. This was primal fury—the kind that would not allow her to surrender to this predator without cost. The flame of hatred blazed hotter with each passing moment as the woman tried to pull her hand from the wall to stand proudly before her final vengeful strike. The skin that had frozen to the wall stayed there, parting from its former owner. She did not feel it—her pain receptors had long since gone numb.
The comely face of the dark-haired oni was adorned with a noble, kind, and stately smile, as though he were a prince about to wake a sleeping princess or rescue her from the clutches of a vile dragon. Important and unshakeable, his face filled with genuine concern, agitation, and pity.
The crucible of rage erupted. With it, sharing the same moment as a wild and desperate shriek, the matted long hair—once perfectly groomed—burst outward. It became like drills, rotating at colossal speed.
The silent scream remained on the lips of the head as it hit the ground. Gathering it onto his forearm, the demon set about his meal with a benevolent and grateful smile, speaking first:
"Itadakimasu!" It looked like mockery—he hadn't even pressed his palms together in the customary prayer before saying it.
***
Crunching through the knuckles of an arm torn off at the shoulder, "Enmu" stepped out of the alley and proudly presented the empty nighttime street with the head of the villainess—wide eyes open, their living light already gone. The woman had hunted men she deemed "unrighteous" and had already made the news. The only reason she had never been caught was that she was inventive and extraordinarily clever, a perfect example of the "iron lady" in her character.
Amusingly enough, a remarkably intelligent woman had had the misfortune of running into someone against whom any tactic was useless. Doma knew no mercy and was tremendously strong even now—he had not given her even the ghost of a chance to flee with those extending, reinforcing threads of hair. Her former opponent was not a hero, and could be called human only with considerable generosity.
Raw, overwhelming force might have helped her. A red star flared to life on one of the white high-rise buildings and came hurtling toward the Doma who watched it with surprise. Like a genuine child, he opened his blood-smeared mouth in wonder and drew a delighted breath as there landed before him a solar flare of dense red-orange flame that wreathed a human silhouette.
Burning brows, lashes, and temples created an impressive and thoroughly striking image, accentuating the furious expression on the red-haired man's face. The blood vessels in his eyes were visible, strained and ready to burst. Young and brutal—Enji Todoroki, in all his magnitude.
"You bastard…" He hissed, staring into the empty, lifeless fish-eyes of the dead woman. "Your atrocities end tonight, you miserable cannibal!"
"How rude, Endeavor-san…" The demon seemed to genuinely sadden, shifting his expressions rapidly across his pale face. "We were only just get— Whoa!"
Without waiting for him to finish, the man delivered the "vigilante" a blast of fire passionate in its heat and righteous fury, its tongues attempting to gnaw at inhuman flesh. For the former Second Upper Moon, however, evading the attack posed no difficulty at all. Offense gave way to indignation across the expression of the former leader of his own cult.
"You leave me no choice—please forgive me for defending myself!" An irritating line.