Greed
The late afternoon sun bathed the streets in warm gold, the buildings stretching their shadows over the sidewalks.
Haru walked beside Uraraka, hands stuffed in the pockets of his jacket, his usual lazy smirk tugging at his lips.
"You really didn't have to wait for me," Haru mused, glancing at her.
Uraraka gave him a playful pout. "What, am I not allowed to walk with my boyfriend anymore?"
Haru huffed a small laugh, looking away. "I never said that."
"Then quit acting like you don’t like it." She leaned in, bumping her shoulder against his. "I know you do."
Haru's ears tinted red, but he didn't respond—just exhaled through his nose and kept walking.
Uraraka smiled to herself.
She had planned this perfectly.
A well-timed excuse to meet up after school, a last-minute “accidental” change in direction so they’d be alone, and now, an entire walk through the city just the two of them.
If she was good at one thing, it was getting what she wanted.
"Hey, let's stop here," she said suddenly, grabbing his wrist and pulling him toward a corner shop.
Haru blinked. "What for?"
"I'm hungry," she said simply, already leading him inside.
The place was small, crowded enough that the cashier barely looked up as they walked in.
Perfect.
Uraraka didn’t hesitate.
As she pretended to browse the snacks, her fingers worked fast—grabbing, slipping, tucking things into her pocket without a second thought.
A small box of candy. A pack of gum.
And—
She smirked as she caught sight of Haru distractedly scanning the shelves.
His wallet, sticking out just a little too much from his back pocket.
She wondered if he’d notice.
As Uraraka slipped the wallet out of Haru’s pocket, her fingers instinctively flipped it open—just to see.
Inside, the usual. Bills folded neatly. A crumpled receipt. And—
The school ID.
Her gaze barely flickered over it—until she saw the word “Female” printed next to a different name.
Her hands paused.
For half a second, she considered it.
Then, just as quickly, she shoved the thought away.
It didn’t matter.
Haru was Haru.
She didn’t care what the ID said, or what he might be hiding. As long as he was hers, nothing else mattered.
So, without hesitation, she let the wallet slip onto the floor and called out, “Oh! Haru, you dropped this.”
And just like that, the moment was gone.
They had barely left the shop when Uraraka’s next opportunity appeared.
A kid, maybe ten years old, clutching a blinking arcade card tightly in his hand, bouncing on his heels while his dad fished for change.
Too easy.
Uraraka moved smoothly, walking past, barely brushing the kid’s arm—just enough to knock his grip loose.
The card tumbled.
And in one clean motion, she scooped it up before he even noticed.
She grinned, slipping it into her pocket.
"Haru," she said, grabbing his sleeve. "Let’s hit the arcade."
Haru blinked at her, surprised. "Didn’t you just say you were hungry?"
She laughed, tugging him forward. "I changed my mind. Come on!"
Haru let out a small, amused sigh but didn’t resist.
And soon, they were standing in the neon glow of the arcade, the air thick with electronic beeps and flashing lights.
Uraraka pulled out the stolen card, swiping it without hesitation.
Haru raised an eyebrow. "You didn’t have that earlier."
She smirked. "Maybe I just have my ways."
Haru chuckled, shaking his head. "You’re something else."
She grinned.
Yes. She was.
And as long as she could keep things exactly how she wanted them, she’d make sure they stayed like this forever.
The arcade buzzed with flashing lights and the hum of game machines, but Uraraka had eyes only for Haru—and the opportunities around them.
"Come here," she said, grabbing his wrist and pulling him toward a photo booth.
Haru raised an eyebrow. "You actually wanna take pictures?"
She rolled her eyes. "Duh. What, you scared to take cute couple photos with me?"
He let out a small chuckle, shaking his head as he let her push him inside.
They crammed into the tiny space, and the camera flashed as Uraraka grinned, pressing close.
Click.
She turned, wrapping her arms around Haru’s shoulders, tilting her head toward his.
Click.
She pouted playfully, poking his cheek while he rolled his eyes.
Click.
And just as the last flash went off, she leaned in close, lips brushing his ear.
Click.
The printed strips slid out, and she grabbed them, tucking one into her pocket.
"Mine," she murmured, grinning.
Haru just sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. "You’re impossible."
She smirked. "And yet, here you are."
As they moved through the arcade, Uraraka’s fingers worked fast—watching, waiting, swapping.
Every time someone left their arcade card unattended, she switched hers with theirs.
A group of kids left theirs on the air hockey table? Swipe.
Someone too distracted at the claw machine? Swipe.
She did it so smoothly that Haru didn’t even notice—just following her from game to game, occasionally tilting his head at how she always seemed to have just the right amount of credits.
"Are you seriously this lucky?" he muttered after she started up another round of a rhythm game.
Uraraka just grinned. "Something like that."
Eventually, though, tickets were what she really wanted.
And she had a plan.
She grabbed Haru’s sleeve and pulled him toward the rows of prize machines, scanning for the right one.
There—one of the biggest jackpot ticket dispensers, almost full.
Perfect.
She leaned close, dropping her voice to a whisper.
"Keep watch for me."
Haru blinked. "What?"
She was already crouching, her fingers working fast at the machine’s panel, popping it open with a practiced touch.
Haru glanced around, shifting uncomfortably. "Uraraka—"
"Shhh," she whispered, smirking.
She reached inside, grabbed a massive stack of tickets, and yanked them free.
Haru stared. "You did not just—"
She shoved the tickets into her jacket, grabbing his hand. "Let’s go before someone notices!"
And just like that, she dragged him away, laughing under her breath, feeling unstoppable.
Haru exhaled sharply, running a hand down his face. "You’re gonna get us banned."
She grinned. "Only if they catch me."
And they never did.
The counter was stacked with prizes—plushies, gadgets, candy—but Uraraka had her eyes on one thing.
Keychains.
Lots of them.
"I’ll take thirty," she said, slapping the massive wad of tickets onto the counter.
The worker blinked. "Thirty?"
"Yeah, a problem?" she asked sweetly.
The guy hesitated, then shrugged and started counting them out.
Haru leaned in, voice low. "You’re seriously getting thirty keychains?"
She smirked. "What, you think I want these for myself? I’m selling them."
Haru let out a soft chuckle, shaking his head. "Of course you are."
"Easy profit," she murmured, watching as the keychains were stacked up in front of her.
Then, just before they left, she paused—eyes flicking to a pair of small, matching keychains.
A simple design—nothing flashy, just a tiny crescent moon and a star.
Perfect.
She grabbed two.
"These are for us," she said, handing one to Haru.
He blinked at it, then at her. "We match now?"
"Duh." She clipped hers onto her bag, smirking at him. "Now put it on yours."
Haru looked at her for a long second—then sighed, shaking his head with a small smile.
"Fine."
And as they walked out of the arcade, Uraraka twirled the keychain between her fingers, her mind already spinning with the next plan.
Because Haru was hers, and she was going to make sure it stayed that way.
Uraraka stumbled forward, still gasping from being thrown through the door. The warmth of the First Ring was gone—replaced by something thicker, heavier.
The air was dense, syrupy, almost sweet.
And the place—
She was standing in a massive, extravagant dining hall, stretching out endlessly, lined with tables that sagged under the weight of food. Steaming roasts, golden pastries, glistening fruits, piled high like mountains. The air was thick with the smell of sugar and spice, something rich enough to make her stomach churn.
At the head of the longest table sat a woman, reclined in a throne-like chair, draped in ornate antique French attire, all ruffles and embroidery, a gown too heavy for a normal body to wear comfortably.
Her hair was curled perfectly, her face painted like a portrait come to life.
She smiled as Uraraka staggered to her feet.
"Welcome," she cooed, voice velvety. "You must be so hungry."
She gestured with a gloved hand, and immediately, a chair scraped back at the head of the nearest table.
"Come, sit," she purred. "Eat. You'll feel much better."
Uraraka's teeth clenched.
She could still hear it.
Himiko’s screams, muffled, distant—coming from the door behind her.
She turned and lunged for it.
Her fingers scrabbled at the handle. She yanked. Pulled. Slammed her fist against the wood.
"HIMIKO!"
Nothing.
She gritted her teeth, slamming harder, her throat burning.
The ruler sighed. "Oh, don't waste your energy, dear. That door doesn't open from this side."
Uraraka’s fists curled.
"You—" She turned, breathing hard. "Shut the hell up."
The woman arched a delicate brow.
Uraraka’s nails dug into her palms.
"You think I give a damn about this?" she spat, waving at the tables piled high with food. "You think I care about some fancy feast when MY beloved's over there, suffering?"
The woman's painted lips pursed slightly. "You seem upset."
Uraraka let out a sharp, furious laugh.
"Upset?" she barked. "No, I’m beyond that. I'm pissed."
She took a step forward, chest heaving.
"Tell me how to get her back," she snarled. "Tell me how to take her back."
The words left her without hesitation, without shame.
She didn't care if it sounded selfish, if it sounded wrong.
Himiko was hers.
And she would not let some ring of hell keep her away.
The ruler’s smile slowly faded.
For the first time, she looked at Uraraka closely, studying her with something sharper than amusement.
"Yours, you say?"
Uraraka's jaw tightened.
"Yeah," she said. "Mine."
Silence.
Then, the ruler laughed.
Low, rich, pleased.
"My, my," she murmured. "What a greedy little thing you are."
Uraraka didn’t flinch.
"Then perhaps…" The woman tapped her fingers against the table, thinking. "Perhaps you are wasted here."
Uraraka narrowed her eyes. "What do you mean?"
The ruler leaned back. "The Ring of Greed is currently…vacant."
Uraraka stilled.
"What?"
The woman smiled. "The last ruler perished. A shame, really. But that means a new one must take their place."
She gestured lazily. "Greed, you see, has the privilege of keeping what they desire."
Uraraka’s heart slammed against her ribs.
Keeping.
She could keep Himiko.
Her hands shook.
She didn’t hesitate.
"Take me there."
The ruler’s lips curled into something pleased.
"Right this way, then."
A door appeared behind her throne, blending into the walls, shadowed by thick golden curtains.
Uraraka moved immediately.
She shoved past the throne, not waiting for permission.
She threw open the door.
Beyond it—darkness.
She stepped in.
The last thing she heard before the door slammed shut behind her was the ruler’s whisper—
"Remember, darling. All Greed must do is give its name."
It was silent.
No more scent of food.
No warmth, no whispers of temptation.
Just cold.
A deep, hollow, empty cold.
Uraraka exhaled, stepping forward.
She didn't know where she was going.
She didn't care.
She clenched her fists, steadying herself.
Then, voice steady, she whispered—
"My name is Uraraka Ochako."
The second the words left her lips—
She screamed.
Her body erupted in pain—like something was ripping through her, breaking free.
She looked down—
And choked.
Mouths.
Everywhere.
From her arms, her stomach, her thighs—mouths were forming, stretching open in grotesque gasps.
Some small, barely parted. Others wide, lips curling, teeth glistening—as if starving.
Inside them—
Eyes.
Rolling, blinking, shifting—watching.
She could see herself in them, could see too much, too many angles, too many ways.
Her breath hitched, stomach lurching.
Her body trembled.
Her hands clawed at herself, trying to stop it, trying to cover—
But there was nowhere to hide.
Nowhere to stop it.
This was her now.
She shuddered.
She felt sick.
She felt hungry.
The mouths tasted the air, lips parting, tongues flicking out—starving, yearning.
She swallowed hard, her heart racing.
Then—
"Himiko."
The name left her in a whisper.
The mouths stilled.
The eyes shifted.
She swallowed, pressing a hand to her chest, breathing hard.
Then, stronger—
"Where is Himiko?"
The mouths twitched.
Then—one of them smirked.
And deep within her, in the pit of her stomach, a voice hissed.
"Go get her."
Uraraka ran.
The mouths on her body whispered, screamed, begged—but she ignored them. She ignored everything except for the massive gilded doors that had appeared in front of her.
She shoved against them—they didn’t budge.
She gritted her teeth and slammed her fists against them. Nothing.
Her breath came ragged.
“No,” she growled. “No, no, NO—”
She kicked the doors, pounded at them, clawed at them until her nails split, until the mouths on her fingers bit the wood in frustration.
But it was useless.
She couldn’t leave.
The realization slammed into her like a knife.
She whipped around, chest heaving, vision swimming with fury.
Her eyes locked onto the other door—the one she had come through, the one that led back to the Ring of Gluttony.
And she screamed.
"YOU TRICKED ME!"
Her voice ripped through the cold space, bouncing off the endless dark gold walls of Greed.
A slow, lazy chuckle answered.
From the other side of the door, the Gluttony ruler’s voice echoed back.
"Did I?" she mused. "I seem to recall you making the choice all on your own."
Uraraka’s fists shook.
"You knew I wouldn’t be able to leave," she snarled.
The woman sighed, exasperated. "Of course. None of us can leave. Rulers stay in their rings, dear. That’s how this place works."
Uraraka’s stomach twisted.
No. No, no—
She turned back to the doors and slammed her entire body against them, trying everything to break through—kicking, scratching, throwing herself at them until her legs gave out beneath her.
Nothing.
Her body trembled, rage boiling over like poison.
She whirled back to the Gluttony door.
"Let me see her!" she demanded. "Let me see Himiko!"
A pause.
Then—a sharp laugh.
"You really are greedy," Gluttony hummed. "It suits you."
Uraraka’s teeth clenched.
She didn’t have time for this.
"Just tell me!" she snapped. "Can I see her or not?"
A long, drawn-out hum.
"Well… Since you are a ruler now, there are meetings." The woman’s voice dripped with mockery. "You could see her there, I suppose."
Uraraka stilled.
Meetings.
She could see Himiko again.
Something inside her twisted—something dark and restless.
"I’ll take it," she said without hesitation.
The Gluttony ruler laughed again.
"Then get used to it," she said simply.
Uraraka gritted her teeth.
"I’ll do whatever it takes," she muttered. "I don’t care what I have to do."
The Gluttony ruler smirked.
"Good," she said. "You’re finally starting to understand."
The door vanished.
And Uraraka was alone.
Alone with the knowledge that she would never be satisfied—not until she had Himiko back.
And she would.
No matter what it took.
The room was silent.
Uraraka stood in the dim glow of her new prison, her breath still heavy, her chest rising and falling in erratic beats.
And then—
The mirrors appeared.
Lining the golden walls of Greed, stretching endlessly, reflecting not just her—but versions of her.
Not just reflections.
Possibilities.
Her gaze whipped around, her throat tightening.
She saw herself smiling in one—standing in a sunlit field with Himiko, hands tangled together.
Another showed her laughing, curled up beside Himiko on a couch, wrapped in a blanket, cheeks flushed.
Another—
Another was darker.
Her own reflection grinning wide, her arms wrapped too tight around Himiko, their bodies pressed together, something too desperate, too hungry in her eyes.
Uraraka's breath hitched.
Her fingers trembled as she reached out—
And touched the glass.
The second her fingertips met the surface—
Pain.
A sharp, searing sensation rippled through her body, and one of the eyes embedded in her twitched, darkened, the veins around it staining deep purple.
She gasped, jerking back.
The mirror flickered—then went blank.
The image of her and Himiko was gone.
Her hands shook.
"What the hell…" she whispered.
She turned, looking at the other mirrors.
Her own distorted face stared back, the many mouths on her flesh smirking, lips curled as if taunting her.
Her stomach twisted.
Slowly, she exhaled—and made a decision.
She hesitated—then let her lips part.
Let the mouths part.
"Show me Himiko," she whispered.
The moment the words left her—
One mirror obeyed.
The surface rippled, like water disturbed by a single drop—
And then, there she was.
Himiko.
Curled up in her newfound appereance.
Her skin seemed to be even more pale now, her blonde hair having turned almost silver toned.
Her knees were tucked to her chest, her face buried against her arms, her shoulders trembling.
She was crying.
Uraraka’s heart shattered.
Her breath came out in a ragged sob, her hands pressing against the mirror as if she could reach through it.
"Himiko…"
Her voice cracked, raw, desperate.
Himiko couldn't hear her.
Couldn't see her.
But Uraraka saw her.
And she could do nothing but weep.
Because no matter how much she wanted to keep her—Himiko was still out of reach.
Uraraka pressed her palm to the mirror, her fingers trembling.
Himiko’s reflection didn’t move—curled up, small, fragile, wrapped in gold.
A sob choked its way out of Uraraka’s throat.
She leaned forward—kissing the mirror, soft, reverent.
"I knew," she whispered, her breath fogging the glass.
She kissed it again, this time slower, her lips lingering against the cold surface.
"I knew the whole time, that you were hiding that from me." she admitted, her voice shaking. "And I didn't care. I still wanted you. I—" Her nails scraped against the mirror as her chest tightened.
"You’re perfect," she breathed.
Her forehead pressed to the glass.
"What would have happened," she murmured, "if I told you I knew?"
Would Himiko have smiled—that sharp, teasing, wicked smile?
Would she have pushed her against a wall, whispered, "Did you want me anyway?"
Would she have held her closer, tighter, possessively?
Would she have stayed?
Uraraka shuddered, clutching the mirror like a lifeline.
She had been so stupid.
So afraid of losing what she had that she never told Himiko the truth.
And now—now she’d lost her anyway.
Her nails dug in deeper, the mouths on her body gnashing their teeth, whispering.
But she didn't care.
All she cared about was the girl in the mirror.
The girl she couldn't touch.
The girl who still belonged to her.
No matter what it took—she’d get her back.