Lust
The hallway buzzed with students, the air thick with chatter and the occasional slam of a locker. Himiko adjusted her tie—too tight. She loosened it with a finger and smirked when she spotted her at the end of the hall.
Uraraka Ochako.
The way she laughed, her fingers curling around the strap of her backpack, the bounce in her step—it all made Himiko’s chest tighten. God, she was perfect.
Uraraka turned and caught sight of her.
"Haru!" she called, her voice bright. She ran up, slipping her arms around Himiko's waist before pressing her face into her chest.
Himiko—Haru, to everyone else—dropped her chin against Uraraka’s hair, breathing her in. Vanilla and something sweet, like strawberries. She always smelled like that. Like something Himiko wanted to sink her teeth into.
"You're warm," Uraraka mumbled.
Himiko chuckled, hands sliding down the curve of Uraraka’s back. "You're always cold in the mornings."
"And you're always there to warm me up," Uraraka teased, pulling back with a grin.
She was so close. Himiko could see the soft curve of her lips, the faint sheen of chapstick. Her fingers itched to grab her face, to devour her.
But then, a classmate passed by, clapping Himiko on the back.
"Yo, Haru! You coming to practice later?"
Himiko rolled her shoulders, forcing herself to step back from Uraraka. "Yeah. I'll be there."
Uraraka pouted. "Again? You're always at practice."
"You're always at your club," Himiko shot back.
"Economics isn’t as exhausting as sports," Uraraka said, poking her in the chest. "I get to sit down."
"You could sit on me," Himiko muttered.
Uraraka blinked, then giggled. "You're so dumb."
If only she knew how serious Himiko was.
Himiko barely ate during lunch. Not when she had Uraraka sitting across from her, stuffing her face with rice.
"You’re staring," Uraraka said through a mouthful.
"You’re cute," Himiko answered.
Uraraka flushed, covering her mouth as she swallowed. "You’re shameless, Haru."
"I just say what I think." Himiko leaned forward, resting her chin in her palm. "And I think I wanna kiss you."
Uraraka glanced around, paranoid. "Not here, dummy!"
But she was smiling. That was all that mattered.
Still, it was frustrating. Himiko wanted to grab her, push her against the wall, and kiss her until her knees went weak. But she had to hold back. Uraraka was a good girl—too good for public displays of affection.
"You’re lucky I like you so much," Himiko murmured, twirling a strand of Uraraka’s hair between her fingers.
"You better," Uraraka huffed, but she leaned into the touch.
They walked home together, the sun casting long shadows on the pavement. Uraraka swung their joined hands, humming softly.
"My parents wanna meet you," she said.
Himiko nearly tripped. "Huh?"
"I told them about you," Uraraka said. "I mean, we’ve been dating for a year. They’re curious."
Himiko swallowed hard. Her parents? But if they found out—if anyone found out—
"You okay?" Uraraka asked, squeezing her hand.
"Yeah," Himiko forced out. "Just surprised."
"You don’t have to say yes," Uraraka said, nudging her shoulder. "I just thought… you know, since we're serious."
Serious. That word made Himiko's chest squeeze. Uraraka wanted something real with her. Something deep.
She had to keep this up. Had to make sure nothing ruined it.
"Yeah," she said finally. "I’d love to meet them."
Uraraka beamed. Himiko felt something melt inside her.
They sat on Uraraka’s bed, a movie playing in the background. Himiko wasn’t paying attention. She was too focused on Uraraka’s bare thighs, the way her oversized hoodie slid off her shoulder, exposing soft, tempting skin.
"You’re staring again," Uraraka teased.
Himiko grinned. "Can’t help it."
Uraraka laughed, leaning against her. "You’re so dumb sometimes."
Himiko let her fingers trail up Uraraka’s thigh, slow and deliberate. Uraraka shivered but didn’t move away.
"Ticklish?" Himiko asked.
Uraraka bit her lip, eyes darting down. "Maybe."
Himiko pressed closer, fingers tracing circles. "I like that."
Uraraka exhaled, a little shaky. "You’re such a tease, Haru."
"You like it," Himiko murmured against her ear.
Uraraka turned her face, and suddenly, they were inches apart. Himiko’s breath hitched. She could see Uraraka’s chest rising and falling, her lips slightly parted.
She wanted to kiss her.
No—she wanted to devour her.
"Do you love me?" Himiko whispered.
Uraraka blinked, surprised. "Of course I do."
"Say it."
Uraraka cupped her cheek, thumb brushing over her skin. "I love you, Haru."
Something inside Himiko burned. She needed her. More than anything.
She crushed their lips together. Uraraka gasped but didn’t pull away. She melted into the kiss, fingers tangling in Himiko’s short hair. Himiko pushed her down onto the bed, hovering over her, kissing her again and again and again.
Her hands roamed, feeling the warmth of Uraraka’s body, the softness of her curves.
Uraraka moaned into her mouth, and Himiko almost lost it.
But then—
A knock on the door.
"Sweetie? I brought snacks!"
Uraraka shoved her off, scrambling up. "C-Coming, Mom!"
Himiko groaned, rolling onto her back. So close.
Uraraka threw her a look. Behave.
Himiko smirked. No promises.
That night, Himiko lay in bed, staring at the ceiling.
Uraraka was everything.
Her smile. Her warmth. Her voice. Her body.
She was perfect.
Himiko ran her fingers through her short hair, heart racing.
She had to keep this up. Had to stay Haru. Had to be what Uraraka needed.
Because if she lost her—
She wouldn’t let that happen.
She would do anything to keep her.
No one else could have her.
No one else could love her like this.
Only her.
Only Himiko.
The last thing Himiko remembered was Uraraka’s warmth pressed against her, their fingers tangled together. And then—blackness.
Now—heat.
Suffocating, consuming heat.
Himiko gasped, blinking into the golden glow surrounding them. Her body felt light, almost weightless, but the warmth clung to her skin like something alive. She moved, feeling nothing beneath her feet, yet somehow she was standing.
A shift beside her.
"Haru?" Uraraka’s voice was quiet, shaking. "Where… what happened?"
Himiko turned—and froze.
Uraraka was naked.
Her arms crossed over her chest, her thighs pressed tightly together, but it wasn’t enough to hide the curves of her body, the soft, flushed skin.
Himiko swallowed hard, every nerve in her body snapping taut.
Uraraka’s eyes widened.
Himiko followed her gaze—down.
She was naked too.
Panic hit her like a freight train. She stumbled back, arms wrapping around herself. Her chest, flat and bare, exposed. No binder. No disguise. Just her.
Her real body.
Uraraka’s lips parted, breathless.
Himiko felt sick.
"Uraraka, I—"
But Uraraka looked away, face red. "W-Why are we—" She squeezed her eyes shut. "Oh my god, don’t look!"
"I’m not!" Himiko blurted, even though she had.
She turned away too, heart slamming against her ribs. Her skin burned—from shame, from fear, from something she didn’t want to name.
Because even in her panic, even as she drowned in humiliation—she couldn’t ignore the way Uraraka’s bare skin had made her stomach twist in something dark, something greedy.
"Where are we?" Uraraka whispered.
Himiko forced herself to focus.
The golden glow stretched endlessly, shifting like mist. The air wasn’t air—it was thick, cloying, something that made her skin tingle.
It felt… wrong
And then—laughter.
A slow, sultry chuckle.
They turned.
A woman stood before them.
She was tall, draped in gold and rubies, her body bare, unashamed. Intricate chains and gems hung from her wrists, her ankles, looping around the curve of her waist. Her dark hair flowed in waves, her lips curved in something between amusement and hunger.
"Welcome," she purred. "To the First Ring of Hell."
"Hell?" Uraraka echoed, voice shaking. "What do you mean, hell?"
The woman smirked, stepping forward. "Exactly what I said, sweet thing."
Himiko moved before she realized it, positioning herself between Uraraka and the woman.
She didn’t trust her.
The woman noticed. Her smirk widened.
"My, my," she mused. "So protective. How delicious."
Himiko ignored the way her voice slid over her skin like silk.
"Who are you?" she demanded.
The woman’s deep blue eyes gleamed. "I am Madam Midnight." She gestured to the endless, golden space around them. "And this is my domain."
Uraraka clenched her fists. "We didn’t die, did we?"
Midnight laughed, low and wicked. "Not quite."
Himiko’s jaw tightened. "Then why are we here?"
Midnight grinned.
"Who knows?" she said, taking a slow step closer.
The heat pressed closer.
Himiko’s breathing hitched.
She wasn’t stupid. She knew what this was.
Lust.
It hung thick in the air, curling around her, seeping into her skin. She could feel it in the way her pulse pounded, in the way her eyes kept flicking to Uraraka’s flushed face, to the curve of her hips, to the soft swell of her chest.
Midnight saw everything.
She chuckled. "You feel it, don’t you?"
Himiko clenched her teeth. She wouldn’t give in.
But Uraraka…
She was shaking.
Himiko turned—and froze.
Uraraka’s pupils were dilated, her breath coming in soft, uneven pants. She hugged herself, nails digging into her arms, as if trying to fight something inside her.
Himiko’s stomach twisted.
"Uraraka," she said, voice tight. "Don’t listen to her."
Midnight laughed.
"Oh, little one," she purred. "You don’t need to listen."
She reached out.
Himiko lunged.
"Don’t touch her!"
Midnight caught her wrist, effortlessly, and pulled.
Himiko stumbled forward—too close.
The scent of Midnight’s skin, the warmth of her body—it was overwhelming.
"Why fight it?" Midnight murmured. "Isn’t this what you want?"
She turned her gaze to Uraraka.
"Isn’t this what you want?"
Uraraka let out a soft, choked sound.
Himiko’s breath stopped.
No.
No, she wouldn’t let this happen.
She tore away, grabbing Uraraka’s wrist.
"Uraraka, stay with me," she hissed.
Uraraka blinked rapidly, as if shaking off a fog. "H-Haru…"
Himiko gritted her teeth. "We’re leaving. Now."
Midnight sighed, dramatically. "Such a shame."
She flicked her wrist.
The golden mist rippled.
And suddenly—
The ground gave out beneath them.
They fell.
Heat rushed past them, golden mist swirling, swallowing them whole. Himiko held onto Uraraka, their bodies tangled in freefall.
The world shifted—
And then—
Darkness.
They landed.
Himiko groaned, pushing up. The ground beneath her was soft, almost like velvet.
A soft whimper.
"Uraraka?"
She turned—
And found Uraraka on her hands and knees, gasping for air. Her bare back arched, her skin glistening with sweat.
Himiko’s mouth went dry.
She looked away—tried to, but she could still feel the heat crawling under her skin.
Then, a rustle.
They weren’t alone.
Himiko snapped to attention.
The place was massive.
Everywhere they looked, there were things—endless things. Plush cushions, velvet drapes, beds with silk sheets, mirrors that reflected more than just what stood in front of them. Some places looked like theaters, others like golden-lit bedrooms. And the people—or the things that looked like people—lounged about, entangled, touching, moaning softly like a background melody.
The heat hadn’t gone away. It still clung to their skin, whispering against their nerves, reminding them of every urge they had ever felt.
Uraraka shivered and grabbed onto Himiko’s arm, pressing against her side.
"Something’s wrong," she whispered. "I—I feel weird, Haru."
Himiko clenched her jaw. She felt it too. The way her body hummed, the way every glance at Uraraka burned through her veins.
But she had felt like this before. So many times.
Every night, alone in bed, when the thought of Uraraka’s soft lips, the curve of her neck, the sounds she might make sank into her bones like poison.
This feeling wasn’t new.
It was just louder now.
She exhaled sharply. "Don’t focus on it. Just—just don’t look at anything."
Uraraka squeezed her arm. "I don’t want to be here."
I don’t want you here either.
Himiko swallowed hard. Her mind was spinning, tangled between the heat, the weight of Uraraka’s grip on her, and the truth she had been hiding for so long.
She didn’t deserve this. Didn’t deserve to be touched by her, held by her.
"Uraraka," she said, voice strained.
Uraraka looked up at her, scared, vulnerable, trusting.
Himiko felt sick.
"I’m sorry."
Uraraka blinked. "What?"
"I’m sorry for lying to you," Himiko whispered. "For—for pretending to be a man."
She gently took Uraraka’s hands in her own, noticing how small they were, how easily she could hold them.
Uraraka didn’t pull away.
Himiko inhaled, steadying herself.
"I transferred to your school the second I saw you," she admitted, words spilling past her lips like she’d been dying to say them. "I saw you once—just once—and I knew I had to be close to you. I knew I had to have you."
Uraraka stiffened slightly, but she didn’t let go.
Himiko pressed on.
"But I was a woman. And I thought—I thought if I became like that, then I could be what you wanted. I could be yours." She let out a sharp laugh. "And I was right. You did love me. But you loved a lie."
Uraraka opened her mouth, but Himiko shook her head.
"You don’t get it," she said. "I didn’t just love you. I obsessed over you. I thought about you every second of every day. About touching you, kissing you, biting you, owning you."
Uraraka jerked slightly in surprise.
But Himiko didn’t stop.
"You were the first thing I thought about when I woke up and the last thing I thought about when I went to sleep. And when I was alone—when I couldn’t have you—" She swallowed, voice trembling. "I imagined it. Every night. I imagined how your skin would feel under my hands, how your voice would sound if I—"
She stopped herself, biting down on her lip.
She was disgusting.
She let go of Uraraka’s hands and stepped back, staring at the floor.
"I’m sorry," she whispered. "I’m sorry for being disgusting. I’m sorry for still wanting you, even when I know I don’t deserve you. I’m sorry for everything."
Silence.
She braced herself.
For rejection. For disgust.
Then—
"Tell me your real name."
Himiko’s breath hitched.
Slowly, she looked up.
Uraraka’s eyes were wet but firm.
"Haru wasn’t real, tell me who you are."
Himiko’s heart twisted.
She wanted to tell her. She wanted so badly to say it, to be seen for what she really was.
So she did.
She took a shaky breath.
"My name is Himiko—"
The second her name left her lips, chains snapped around her wrists.
"What—?!"
Himiko screamed as she was yanked back, her body dragged by golden chains that had appeared out of nowhere. They coiled around her, up her arms, across her chest, her thighs—restraining her completely.
Uraraka was pushed away, thrown back toward a door that hadn’t been there before.
"Uraraka!" Himiko struggled, but the chains held tight.
Uraraka fought too, trying to run toward her, but an invisible force kept pushing her back.
"Himiko!"
Midnight’s laughter rang out.
Himiko’s blood froze.
She snapped her head up—
And Midnight.
Himiko’s stomach dropped.
Midnight grinned, stepping forward. "Oh, little one," she cooed. "You should’ve been more careful."
The door behind Uraraka opened, flooding the room with white light.
"No," Himiko thrashed. "No, no, no, you can’t take her!"
Midnight only smiled, watching as Uraraka was forcibly pushed through the door.
Himiko screamed.
"URARAKA!"
The door slammed shut.
She was gone.
Himiko sagged in her bindings, chest heaving. "Why?" she choked out. "Why did you—?"
Midnight’s grin widened.
"Because you belong here now. I asked for your name and you told it." she whispered.
Then—
Midnight screamed.
Fire erupted from her body, licking up her arms, burning through her jewelry. Her eyes widened in horror as the flames consumed her, as if something inside her was being torn away.
"What—what the hell?!" she shrieked.
Himiko’s breath caught.
The heat was shifting, changing. It was moving toward her.
Midnight’s body convulsed. "No—NO!"
She burst apart—a shattering of golden light.
And suddenly—
Himiko felt it.
A weight settling into her bones, wrapping around her like a second skin.
Then, clothes emerged on her, dressing her up in what only could be described as royalty's finest fabrics.
The chains binding her shifted aswell, their cold grasp turning into something else.
Jewelry.
Golden chains laced around her wrists, her ankles, her neck—heavy and intricate, wrapping her in something both beautiful and binding.
Then, as if mocking her, a crown emerged on top of her head.
Himiko’s knees buckled, and she collapsed onto the floor.
Her body shook.
Her chest felt empty, raw, broken.
She had lost Uraraka.
She was alone.
And she would be here forever.
Her hands curled into fists.
And for the first time in as long as she could remember—
She cried.
Cried until her chest ached. Cried until her voice was raw.
Cried because she had finally gotten what she deserved.
She was disgusting.
And now—
She would rot in the place made just for her.