"You want to stay here?" The man's dark eyes narrowed, y/n watched him look at her up and down. She couldn't prove it, but she felt like she knew exactly what he was thinking about. Y/n maintained eye contact with the man and repeated her words. He crossed his arms and cocked his head to the side; his gruff voice returned. "This isn't a friendly city, y' know."

Y/n reached into her pocket and placed money on the table. She kept her fingers on the stack and raised an eyebrow. Y/n watched the husky man behind the counter glance down towards her hand; their eyes connected again. He stroked his scraggly beard. "You're going to be stubborn about this, girl." A sly smile crossed y/n's lips for a moment, before returning to the stern, tight-lipped position.

Y/n slid the stack of cash towards the man and slowly lifted her hand from the desk. He held it in his hands. The man counted, then recounted. Afterward, he checked to make sure the larger bills were real. He paused. His dark eyes drifted back to y/n. "You got a month." He reached under the desk and placed a rusted key on top. The man pointed to a door off to the side. "Room 203. Stairs behind that door."

"Thank you," y/n mumbled. She took the key and walked to the door. Y/n could feel his eyes staring at her. The feeling didn't fade until she closed the door behind her.

A single lightbulb flickering several stories up barely lit the stairwell. Muffled, shouting echoed down the stairs. Y/n covered her mouth and nose with her sleeve, protecting herself from the dust heavily infecting the air. The stairs creaked as y/n walked up to the second floor.

She paused and pressed her ear against the door. Y/n held her breath as she listened. Safe. Her fingers opened and closed the pocket knife in her pocket with one hand while the other turned the cold, metal doorknob.

The door hid a small hallway with several doors lined up on both sides. Y/n held her breath as the wooden floorboards beneath her feet groaned as she walked.

Each door looked the same, their uniformity broken by small, rectangle plates with room numbers engraved on them. 203, y/n repeated in her head as she walked. Y/n stopped and studied the wooden entrance before her.

She cautiously pressed her ear against the door and listened. Silence. Y/n pushed her key into the lock and turned. A small click sounded. Y/n's heart rattled in her chest as the door swung open.

Y/n slid her hand along the wall, turning on the lights before entering. The room was much smaller than y/n thought it would be. The door closed behind her as she glanced around the room. A bed pressed against the wall across from her, and on the right, a window hid behind tattered blinds. In the corner, sat a small table and a single chair. A minifridge stood on the floor, and a microwave was placed on top. By the two appliances, was another door.

Y/n locked the door behind her and pulled out the pocket knife. She whipped her wrist and opened it as she approached the room. Y/n placed her fingers on the doorknob. It was cold. She slowly swung the door open and peeked inside.

It was the bathroom. Y/n saw it had the bare basics. A standing shower, a sink with a scratched up mirror mounted above it, and a toilet. A mysterious, lightened stain smeared along several walls. She returned to the main room and closed the bathroom door behind her.

Y/n hesitated as she touched the minifridge's door. She prayed that whoever had this room before her didn't leave any surprises. Y/n swung the door open. A wave of relief came over her to find an empty fridge. It wasn't clean inside, but she didn't care. With a little bit of work, y/n could begin to feel like she could store food in this fridge.

Y/n spread a map across the table. She studied the various colored marks. Her finger tapped a black circle and traced a path to another black mark. "A burnt body was found here, and then here several days later." She paused. Her eyes retraced the map repeatedly. "He could get from point A and B on his own in a few days."

She looked to the newest black circle on the map. "Where are you going next?" She hummed a little tune as she thought. "What is your pattern?" Y/n sighed, internally admitting that she didn't know Dabi well enough to guess his next move.

Y/n retreated to a pink mark on the map, marking a body found drained of blood. She looked at another pink marker and tried to link a path. She chewed on her lip in thought. Himiko's marks were few and far in between. She didn't leave a trail of bodies for y/n to follow. Himiko was also very particular about her victims, making her even more challenging to track down.

Black and pink circles overpowered all the marks. A few green and red question marks littered the map, signaling potential Spinner and Twice attacks, respectively. She crossed her arms as she thought about those marks. "But why?" she whispered. Twice and Spinner were some of the more nonviolent members of The League. She wondered if she was genuinely confident that these really were attacks from the two or if it was wishful thinking.

Y/n had unused colors. Seeing the lack of blue, purple, and orange on the map made her feel uneasy. Every time she saw the missing colors, she began to wonder if everyone made it out alright. She shook the thought from her head. The cold metal from her locket touched her skin. "Those three have quirks that don't leave traces. Yeah, that's why there aren't any marks for them. They're fine."

Y/n stood up straight. She approached the bed and inspected the blanket and pillows. She tossed her backpack onto the bed, and uncomfortably sat down, still unsure of the cleanliness of the sheets. Y/n retrieved the f/a stuffed animal. She hugged it in her arms. Y/n felt cold inside, a shaky breath escaped her lips. Warm tears ran down her cheeks.

"What are we going to do?" Silence. Y/n sat up and wiped the tears from her eyes. "Small steps. Tonight, sleep; tomorrow, breakfast." She placed the small stuffed animal by her side.

Y/n stared at the window. The blinds were slightly torn, giving her little glimpses of the night sky and the glow of neon lights. A slight draft came in through the window. As much as she didn't like having the blanket on her, y/n pulled it close to her face. "Goodnight." Her hands lightly ran along the stuffed animal's fur as she laid down in complete silence.

The next morning, y/n inspected her arms and legs for any signs of potential bug bites before getting ready to leave. After, she dug her fingers into the stuffed animal's fur, looking for insects. "Looks like we're good," y/n chirped. She tucked the toy into her bag and slung the strap over her shoulder. Y/n retrieved the map on the table and slid it into her back pocket.

Y/n looked through the door via the peephole. A man wearing dark clothes was standing in the hallway, a lit cigarette in his hand. His head hung low, only lifting to take in another hit. Y/n watched the man, trying to dissect why he would be standing by her door and what his intentions were.

She flung her pocket knife open and kept it in her hoodie. Her thumb caressed the blade's handle as she opened the door and left. The man looked up at her. Y/n locked the door, keeping the stranger in her peripherals. Neither the man or y/n said anything. His head turned back down shortly after his initial glance up.

Y/n hurried down the stairs to the bottom floor. In the lobby, the same heavyset man was behind the counter. It was as if he didn't move since the night before. Y/n gave him a nod as she left the broken down motel.

On her way to the motel, y/n recalled seeing a diner. She mentally retraced her steps, trying to remember where exactly it was. Her concentration was broken by the sounds of a nearby scuffle.

Across the street in an alleyway, a pair of young women had guns out, pointed at a man with a snake mutation. One barrel was pressed against his head while the other one was against his chest. Y/n could faintly see the snake-man's tongue flicker.

People vacantly walked by as the three stood off. Y/n saw the snake-man bear his fangs. She caught a small glimpse of the man biting down onto one of the girls. A scream in pain was followed by a gunshot. Y/n did like everyone else, she turned her head away and kept walking.

Y/n didn't like this city, but she could appreciate that the people didn't pretend to act like they cared. A man just died and possibly a woman too, yet no one batted an eye or stopped to call for help. They just kept existing just as they always have. This is the kind of thing y/n expected from a lawless town where most of its inhabitants are villains in hiding.

Y/n found the diner. A newspaper stand was placed by the front door. She swiped one up as she entered. Y/n sat down at a booth with her bag next to her.

The diner looked ordinary. Behind the counter was an older woman. Her hair pulled back into a ponytail. Behind her was a small window to the kitchen. There, she could catch little glimpses of the woman running the kitchen. She had short hair, and her eyes were sharp.

Both women looked directly at y/n when she walked in with unwelcoming expressions on their faces. The one in the ponytail eventually came over to take y/n's order. "Not the friendliest duo, are they?" She waited for her breakfast to arrive in almost complete silence.

As she waited, y/n looked through the newspaper, skimming the headlines for any news burned corpses today. Dabi had one pattern that she noticed. He never attacked two days in a row. It's been a few days since his last attack, and she was excited to see the news of another one. Every new mark brought her closer to finding The League.

A ceramic click caught y/n's attention, a plate and cup of coffee were placed beside her. She folded up the newspaper and poked at the food as soon as the waitress walked away.

The eggs were bland. Y/n almost coated them with a layer of salt and pepper to try to give them some flavor. Mysteriously, it seemed to have no effect. Y/n held the coffee mug in her hand as she returned to her newspaper. The coffee was definitely not fresh. It was lukewarm and tasted stale. Over her time on the road, y/n learned to expect such things from small diners like this one.

Today's newspaper didn't hold any useful information. There wasn't anything y/n could potentially link to The League. She placed the stack messily off to the side and pulled her breakfast closer to her. "I promise there's food out there that tastes better than this."

The eggs were flavorless, and the pancakes were rubbery like expired gummies. She spent more time chewing on the hardened pancake than anything else. "I could probably make something better in the microwave, don't you think?" Y/n took a piece of blackened bacon and felt it snapped in half as soon as her teeth made contact with it. Out of everything on her plate, y/n could imagine screwing up the eggs and pancakes out of laziness or lack of talent. However, the toast supplied was also off. Y/n couldn't believe how they managed to screw up putting a slice of bread in a toaster, but they somehow did.

Y/n kept her head down as she ate. Especially when someone walked by. In a town where most of its inhabitants could be a murderer, y/n didn't want to risk looking at someone the wrong way.

She placed down money under the coffee mug and collected her things. On her way out, y/n recalled how much money she had left. Or rather, how much money she didn't have.

The funds Giran had left her had quickly run out. She tried her best to make it last for as long as possible but finding The League was much harder than she thought. Y/n had long resorted to stealing to get by. Taking spare change and loose bills from those more well off than her to survive. Whenever she was down, y/n reminded herself that things could be worse; she could be begging on the streets.

Things were getting harder now. She was losing her agility, and it was more challenging to be stealthy. As each day went on, she realized that she needed to stop and settle down for a while. Her own health and safety had to be a priority, even before The League.

Y/n stopped in her tracks, a sign posted in front of a window caught her attention. A Help Wanted sign. It was dusty and faded, almost as if no one has touched it in years. Y/n looked up above the door, trying to figure out what kind of store this was. It was a bar.

She reached out and turned the doorknob. The door creaked open. "Hello?" Y/n waited patiently for a response. Nothing. She decided to take this as a sign that she wasn't getting a job today. However, she could loot some of the alcohols and trade them off for a bit of quick cash. Find the right person, and they'll pay a fortune for some Vodka.

Y/n stepped inside and looked around. The bar was small. It had enough room to keep less than fifty people seated inside. She spotted lightbulbs mounted above. There weren't many. She guessed that the bar was dimly lit at best when the sun goes down, and the lights are on. Her hand touched the wooden surface of the bar, it was surprisingly clean and well polished. The display of bottles behind the counter was also well organized. It was clear where whoever ran the place had their priorities.

"Who's down there?" Y/n felt the hair on the back of her neck stand up. She saw a light glow off the wall as a door opened at the top of a set of stairs. Y/n pulled her hands away from the bar as if being seen touching it will give away her ill intentions.

An older man walked down the stairs slowly. His eyes looked tired. He had deep wrinkles around his face showing years of frowns and glares. Y/n threw her hands behind her back. "I'm sorry if I startled you," she spat. "I saw the Help Wanted sign, and I was interested in applying."

The man stopped before her. He was not much taller than y/n in his slightly hunched-over state. In his younger days, he probably would have towered over her. She heard him hum in thought, almost akin to a growl. "And you want to work here?" Y/n noticed him staring at her. She placed her arms in front of her and nodded. "This isn't a place for someone like you."

His words stung. She knew exactly what he was referring to. "I'm a lot tougher than you think." The look on the man's face didn't seem to change. Clearly, he didn't believe y/n. However, she knew it to be true. He had no idea who she was or what she was capable of.

He invited y/n to sit down at one of the bar stools as they talked. Y/n felt a sense of relief. Maybe I have a shot after all.

"Are you from these parts?" He walked around to the other side of the bar.

"No, sir." Y/n kept her head up. She maintained eye contact with the older man, only breaking it to blink, just like how Giran trained her.

"I'm guessing you're a water drinker instead of alcohol? Something about you doesn't scream I like getting wasted." Y/n nodded. He filled a glass with water from the sink behind him and placed it in front of y/n.

She took a sip. Interestingly, it was more flavorful than the breakfast she just ate at the diner. "If you asked me four months ago, I would have taken the alcohol." She paused and looked down at the glass in her hands. "I would have really needed it." Y/n noticed he had raised an eyebrow, interested in why that was. Y/n ignored the look and laughed it off.

"If you're not from here, where are you staying?" Y/n watched him pour himself a glass of golden liquid from a blackened bottle.

"The motel just down the street." She sat up straight, remembering that Giran once told her that was a sign of confidence. "The sun was down when I got there, and the sign wasn't working. I didn't catch its name."

The man began to cough. He nearly slammed the glass in his hand on the wooden bar. He cleared his throat. "You don't mean that broken down hellhole, do you?" Y/n recalled it being the only motel in town. She nodded. "And you've managed to survive there? Just a day or two ago, a man was found dead in one of the rooms." Y/n wondered if she was the lucky person who got that room, recalling the strange stain in the bathroom walls. She threw the thought to the back of her mind, reminding herself that she was technically in the middle of a job interview.

He paused and stared at y/n; she, in return, stared back at him. "Tell me a story. What brings you to Ogura? Surely, you've heard about this place. No offense, but you don't seem like someone that belongs here."

Y/n took no offense. Besides, his earlier remarks were more insulting. Though she is a lot tougher than she looks, y/n knew she didn't belong here. "I'm looking for some people." She looked down for a moment. "I just have to stop for a bit. Think about myself, you know?"

"And who are you looking for?" Y/n could tell he was enthralled by her story so far.

"My family." Her voice went flat. Y/n didn't feel like going into more detail than she already had.

He ran his thumb across his bottom lip. "I suppose I could give you a test run. I just need an extra pair of hands. Nothing too difficult."

Y/n felt her heart jump to her throat. She tried to keep a calm face, trying to hide her surprise and excitement from the man.

"I'm an old man. If my regulars get outta hand, I can't do anything about it." Y/n wondered what exactly he was implying. Blindly, y/n reassured him that she could take care of herself. "If you say so." He didn't sound convinced.

He sighed. "My regulars are all drunks and idiots, don't wear anything you don't mind getting dirty. Vomit, blood, the usual stuff."

Y/n made a mental note to not wear her prized hoodie. "Can I wear something to cover my face?" Her eyes looked down. "I don't really like cigarette smoke."

"Do what you want. As long as you can do the job, I don't care what you wear. It's not like you're going to last longer than a night." Y/n's eyes narrowed at the man. She was now determined to stay as long as she wanted.

Y/n smiled and thanked the man. For the first time in months, that felt like the first time she's been genuinely grateful. "Show up around five tonight. You can help me clean up before they start flocking in at seven." Y/n nodded.

He extended his hand. "What's your name?"

Y/n took his hand in hers. "Atsuko."

"I'll let you know mine when you've proven yourself after tonight." Y/n's grip on his hand tightened, she had every intention to prove that she could do just that.

Art corner #1:

Starting off strong with the art!

Drawn by UkuleleBab
(so sorry for the late art corner, I legit had to check if I spelt the name right AT LEAST 8 times)

I love all the details and the art style is so cute 💙💙💙 please go send the artist some love!!!!