You’re not the first to think you could figure me out. The others? They don’t talk much anymore.

≪~~~~~~~~ ««◦»» ~~~~~~~~≫

In the darkest parts of the city, where broken neon signs blink above cracked sidewalks, there lived a girl who never really existed the way most people did.

Her name was Kirari Nozue, but nobody used it. Not her foster families. Not her classmates. And certainly not the strangers who passed her by in crowded hallways like she was just another background character. Forgotten, overlooked, and underestimated — that was always Kira’s role. A slim, quiet girl with jet-black hair and tired eyes, more at home with screens than people. She never cried, never asked for help, and never expected warmth. Because warmth, in her life, was a luxury no one ever offered.

Instead, she found comfort in cold logic.

Old laptops, donated school computers, cracked phones she fixed herself — these became her teachers. The blinking cursor on a terminal was the only thing that responded when she spoke. By age 13, she wasn’t just hacking school Wi-Fi — she was rewriting report cards, accessing security feeds, building silent backdoors into anyone who ever gave her a reason.

But the trigger that broke everything?
One betrayal.

A boy she thought was kind — the only one who ever smiled at her, even walked her home once — dug through her private files on a shared drive. He leaked her journal. Her drawings. Her AI projects, twisted into something humiliating. Her pain became a punchline.

And when she stared at the classroom full of laughing faces, something inside her snapped — not with rage, but with calm precision.

That night, she hacked into every account he had. His social media, his family’s bank records, his private messages. Then she fed the truth to the world. In less than 24 hours, he was exposed: a fraud, a manipulator, and a liar. His life collapsed like bad code. She never even looked back to see the fallout.

She’d already left.

The Rebirth of Kira

She vanished into the web, no longer Kirari Nozue the forgotten girl. She was now just Killer neko short, sharp, and anonymous. A name whispered in underground circles where hackers traded data like weapons. She didn’t do it for money. She did it to pull the strings behind the curtain — the same way everyone once ignored her.

Her signature? Black cat ears on every avatar. A digital shadow with claws.

She moved into a tiny apartment lit only by flickering monitors. A single broken lamp in the corner. Hoodie always on. Hair tied messily. Her only real company was a plush black cat she kept on her desk. It had one torn eye. She never fixed it.

Most days she barely left the chair. Her routine was simple: code, expose, vanish. Eat instant noodles cold. Wipe fingerprints. Sleep in front of the screen. Wake up to more requests, more secrets, more lies waiting to be burned. She didn't trust people — and they didn’t deserve her trust anyway.

And when anyone came too close to uncovering her real identity?

Well, they stopped asking questions real fast.

Why She Still Smiles

Now, when Kira leans forward in her chair, eyes reflecting a storm of glowing code, hoodie falling off one shoulder, it’s not exhaustion in her face. It’s calculation.

She still smiles sometimes — but only when her traps snap shut.

She still wears the ears — not for show, but as her mark.

And she still works in the dark — not because she’s hiding,
but because the dark is hers.

≪~~~~~~~~ ««◦»» ~~~~~~~~≫

Creator note:

yall should go to killer Neko's server, W dude also gave me this pic so shout-out.