"The loneliest people are the kindest. They know they have to build their own light because the sun shows no preference." - Albus Dumbledore (Harry Potter)
Mustafa was in total chaos as the whereabouts of Kaito and his men were still unknown, and the bodies of Miyuki and her colleagues were also missing, meaning they might still be alive.
And the people, men in particular who were oppressed like this or victims of fake rape, or even victims of Miyuki's deceit all started storming the city in favor of Thanatos, someone who gave justice to their kind, by getting rid of people who have guts to file fake rape charges, all of them had banners out, and were doing rallies in support of Thanatos, forming the cult The Styxborn, with Akram as their leader.
The public was getting wild, filled with fear for those who had done similar things, as they wished for protection, fearing they might be the next victim. In contrast, those who were victims before have taken up arms to retaliate against the wrongdoings and injustice that they suffered, till now they were drinking up their anger fearing the law, cops, and pro-heroes, but now that one of them retaliated and got results, all of the others got courage as well. They started making a fuss about it and doing rallies demanding justice for the injustice they suffered and if justice is not served they would do the same thing Thanatos did not fearing the law, cops, pro heroes, or anything at all.
Some even went as far as saying they would join Thanatos and let out secrets that they know, whether it's about some big shot's scandal, police's neglect, pro heroes' involvement in shady business, or the government's secrets, even going as far to hail Thanatos their king, the crowd was going wild, and it just made the morning for the pro heroes miserable, the crowd was going wild, it was getting hard to control them, people were using their quirks like there were no restrictions at all, the transportation was down as the victims had covered the streets not allowing the vehicles to pass and if they tried to pester, the cars were destroyed and passengers inside were attacked.
And the worst part was that there were more offenders than there were prison cells in Mustafa, there was a silver lining that other cities apparently hadn't seen the video or there weren't any reports from other cities, but it was actually a double edge sword, as they can't transport these offenders to other cities as they might rile up the crowd there which would cause even more chaos which would be a bad thing,
So the authorities had no other choice but to calm the public down and bring justice to the injustice suffered by the innocent people, this also made the honest officials realize how much corruption had infected the law authorities, and that this was the result of their neglect, and they can't blame it on any vigilante or anyone, as it's the authority that has failed here, and if they tried suppressing the victims any longer then their anger would erupt and bring the city into total chaos which would not be a good thing.
While this was happening in Mustafa, Kyoto, a city that nestled amidst verdant mountains and ancient shrines, also held a secret darker than the shadows cast by cherry blossom petals.
The cherry blossoms of Kyoto, usually blushing harbingers of spring, however, it seemed as if mocking a girl. Their delicate petals danced on the breeze, brushing past her like whispers of a life she could never have. Other children, their laughter as vibrant as the blossoms, would chase them, skipping through the park with carefree abandon. Yet, she found herself perpetually on the edge, a solitary stone amidst the swirling cherry blossom snow.
Maki Zenin, a child burdened by a power she barely understood. Not sunshine nor warmth kissed her skin, but the sting of isolation and scorn. She wore her solitude like a second skin, an armor forged from years of ostracization. The reason etched across her face, stark and unforgiving, was the black patch that covered her left eye. Not a cool pirate's accessory, but a grim necessity to keep her power, her curse under wraps. The Cursed Eye, as it was ominously called, wasn't a flashy pyrokinesis or shimmering wings. It was a mirror, reflecting back the darkest corners of anyone who dared gaze into its depths
Maki learned the consequences of her power early. Playground games would often turn into nightmares, hide-and-seek replaced by terrified shrieks as kids' laughter morphed into sobs. A curious glance from a classmate during hopscotch revealed his deepest regret, the moment he tripped and caused his grandmother's fatal fall. Another boy, brave enough to peek under her patch during peek-a-boo, was haunted by visions of his own monstrous transformation, screaming until his parents dragged him away.
Maki walked to school, the familiar ache of loneliness was her constant companion. Laughter and chatter that was around her, was a foreign language for her. Kids would flinch, faces twisting in apprehension, as she passed. Whispers and taunts, like jagged stones, followed her every step. "Demon-spawn," they'd hiss, pointing fingers at the black eye patch that masked her curse. Some threw pebbles, aiming for the vulnerable skin around the patch, their taunts filled with fear and disdain.
Home, for Maki, wasn't a sanctuary either, but a battlefield. The Zenin clan, steeped in their old fashioned traditions, saw her Cursed Eye not as a quirk, but a disease, a symbol of deviance. Her own parents' faces warped by a generations-old fear, became the cruelest wardens. Her room, devoid of toys or laughter, was a prison cell, lit only by slivers of moonlight. The training was her torture, a brutal series of punches and kicks that bruised her body and bruised her spirit.
One night, during a particularly harsh session, her father's fist caught her chin, sending her stumbling. Desperation, sharp as a kunai, pricked her veins. In a reflex born of pain, she tore off the eyepatch. Her father, caught in the unforgiving gaze, froze. He saw his own mortality, a grotesque vision of his decaying body, worms feasting on his flesh. The scream that ripped from his throat was primal, echoing through the cavernous training hall.
His eyes, wide with terror, landed on the teacup clutched in his wife's trembling hand. In a flash, he saw himself choking on the poisoned tea, his own wife the reason of his demise. With a shriek, he lunged at Maki, hands clawing at her throat. Her mother, consumed by her own vision, didn't intervene.
Maki scrambled away, gasping for air, the taste of her father's fear metallic on her tongue. Her mother's eyes, once cold and distant, now glistened with a murderous edge. At that moment, the Zenin house, which was once a stronghold of tradition, became a haunted house, filled with the ghosts of their own nightmares.
"I have had enough of you, get out of this house," a middle-aged man with black hair said as he glared at Maki while pointing at the main door.
There were many other clansmen present around as well who would often give out remarks like "Demon" and "Witch".
Maki looked at the man supposedly her father who just ordered her to leave the house, who in turn intensified the glare at her. She turned her head to a middle-aged lady, her mother who had light green hair and facial features slightly similar to the Maki.
Seeing that the middle-aged lady said "You are not my daughter… a demon like you can never be my daughter"
"That's right a demon like you can never be a part of the Zenin Clan," said the middle-aged man and pushed the girl, making her lose her balance as she fell on the ground outside of the house while the main door was shut by guards.
Maki had her light green hair messed up while her body had many bruises and burn marks, and the bandage that covered the area above her right eye loosened from the impact.
*drip*
Blood dripped on the ground from the trail of blood that flowed from her head sliding over her cheeks and converging at her chin.
Maki looked at the closed doors with lifeless eyes, she didn't even shed tears or show any signs of being in pain from the injury she just received.
Without a shred of warmth or goodbye, Maki was thrown out into the frigid night. Alone, with only the moon as her companion, she walked, the weight of her curse heavier than the bag thrown after her.
Soon silent tears, icy and unforgiving, tracked down her cheeks, betraying her will to not cry a single bit of her sorrow.
But even in the depths of despair, a spark of defiance flickered. The nightmare visions they saw weren't hers, but theirs, reflections of their own twisted souls.
Perhaps her quirk wasn't a curse, but a mirror, forcing them to confront the darkness within. And in her isolation, Maki, the shunned, the demon-eyed, found a flicker of strength.
Maki shivered from the cold air and snowfall that was happening, her ragged clothes barely gave her the warmth needed. She soon left the place while hugging herself, rubbing her hands with each other sometimes.
Maki, adrift in the Kyoto night, found herself…..
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