"This is Chitose Kizuki of Shoowaysha Publishing, and right now I'm in front of the Binksu Prefectural Courthouse where Shinsou Makima is fighting the HPSC for the right to use her quirk just to save people around her! There's a massive crowd, as you can see, and nobody's looking happy! The police are standing guard alongside local heroes to keep the press and spectators out, so we don't know what's going on inside since it's a closed court session, so even when it starts we won't hear a peep until everything's done! For now, back to you, Mori!"
Makima pinches her brow with a hand, closing the livestream on her phone, and she turns to Hitoshi. All four Shinsous had been cooped up in a private room before, but now found themselves being ushered into the courtroom proper.
She looks around, wincing at the jury surrounding her and the various angry faces in the prosecution's wing. More reassuring is Rykyu in the defense, sitting straight-backed and elegant, cutting an intimidating figure. Unconsciously Makima imitates this, standing up a bit straighter and attempting to emulate the other woman's composure. It's all she can do to keep calm - Makima's control over her own expressions rarely feels weaker than it does most days now, but the Shinsous all reassure her it's a good thing, that she doesn't feel like she needs to hide what she feels as much.
When court is called to session, she's almost aghast at how… mundane it is. There's this veil of civility over it, that proceedings that could lead to her being ripped from her family and thrown into the so-called 'care' of the HPSC can be so boring. The HPSC rather transparently wants to use her powers for the sake of keeping hero society orderly in the ways they'd like it. In other words, everything the Shinsous would resent.
It's now everything Makima resents as well. The feeling of hating what's done in the name of 'public safety' is both familiar and new, and she wears it like an old coat. The prosecution goes first, undaunted by the muffled protesting going on outside. If there's one thing on her side, it's that she's young, and she understands that age is a shield from the worst.
The charges are thus follows: incitement of mass hysteria, illegal usage of quirks in public, illegal usage of quirks on others, unsolicited mental manipulation. The HPSC's lawyer rattles off a list of legal defenses for the charges that drags on into obscurity, and then pulls up a witness - it's one of the people in the crowd Makima controlled.
Reportedly, this man was traumatized and horrified he'd been suddenly mind-controlled in the middle of a villain attack. The testimony he gives is harrowing. Makima's always been somewhat unsure what it's like to be under her control. Apparently, the man's mind blanked out completely, leaving no memory of the events at all besides muscle memory and compulsion. When he suddenly awoke at the fringes of the crowd, still hearing rubble collapsing in the distance, he'd freaked out.
Makima also doesn't miss her brother's dirty glare at the man, but there's nothing they can do about that. A few more witnesses confirm Makima's chains poking through heads the fear of those not caught in the crowd at the sight, and the Shinsou daughter right in the epicentre, directing people like it was her second nature.
It's not Makima's second nature. It's just her nature.
After a short recess, it's the defence's turn. The jury seems more skeptical of the prosecution's attacks than agitated by them, which is probably a good sign. Ryukyu's lawyers take the stage. Makima, who knows nothing about law, thinks they sound more convincing. Rhetoric matters more to jury than judge, and Makima has an intuition for it.
And after that… Ryukyu grins as her masterstroke is revealed.
As it turns out, saving a hundred and fifty people gives you quite the pool of witnesses to pick from who will come to Makima's defence, and when Ryukyu's agency has the resources to track them all down… there's a veritable flood of sympathetic testimonies. An old woman says she was being pushed around and didn't want to fall over, before everything went dark and she woke up safely on the fringes. A man with two children in the crowd thanks her for ensuring they didn't get separated. A rather disheveled-looking woman explains she was on the brink of a panic attack.
Person after person, head after head, each of them thanking her for what she's done. They don't know her. Most of them have never even seen her. There is no authority, no control, no contract binding them to do what they do. They do it because of a feeling in their hearts.
And they all lend their gratitude and support to Makima. It feels… good. Helping people feels good, even if it's not as potent as helping Hitoshi. They don't see her as evil, or a monster, or inhuman. They see a good deed, they see someone worthwhile, and they stand in her defence against the ones that want to steal her away and make her into something else.
It's times like this that that wistful watching, ever since that fateful first day she'd manifested in this world in an alley and watched the crowds go by, makes sense to her. Makima embodies the fear of Control, of Conquest. It's a rather human fear, so human she looks nearly identical to one. She loves watching humans, she loves knowing humans, and she loves being humans, because…
Makima loves humanity. She can't help it. It's why she wants the end of all suffering so badly, even if that's unrealistic.
The next witness called is Nori, the more composed of the two parents, and she projects both seriousness and loving care into her voice. Even if the lines have been pre-coached by Ryukyu's lawyers, and her voice is schooled to not lose her composure, they ring as sincere in Makima's head.
She caps off her recap with a few choice words. "My daughter and son were caught in the crowd. They're both good-hearted kids. They both have mind control quirks, and they know the dangers that come with them. We've instructed them extensively not to use their quirks in public barring something life-threatening. At that age, how can they be blamed for not wanting to return to their mother's and father's side? They were scared for their lives. In that moment, they thought they may die to the rubble falling down, and it's a miracle Makima didn't."
Would that make it, in other words, a necessary evil? No, Makima thinks. Control doesn't have to be evil. Hasn't she employed it for good?
Ryukyu is the last of the defendants called forward. Makima learns her name is actually 'Tatsuma Ryuko' when she comes to the stand and gives her piece, fixing the prosecution with an imperious expression that can't be called a glare, but certainly isn't friendly.
When she gives her testimony, it's far heavier on details than any other given - due to her nature as a pro hero, she knows her shit, as Hitoshi would say, She walks the judge and jury through the events of the afternoon with the practiced grace of a woman who's been in a courtroom a fair few times and ultimately finishes with unexpected praise.
"Usually, it is the job of my sidekicks to perform crowd control, but due to the hectic circumstances at the scene of the incident, they were not fast enough. That is their own failing, as it is mine for not subduing the villain involved quickly enough. It is no failing of little Makima at all to have panicked and used her quirk in a way that harmed nobody nor caused damage, in a scenario where she couldn't have been blamed for doing so."
Ryukyu is a trusted hero, an authority figure. She has influence over the jury , even unconsciously and a devil as well-versed in the psychology of power and manipulation knows this intimately. Influence is power. Influence is control. Seeing Rykyu as a witness, her lawyers as defendants… it tickles at the back of Makima's mind, an instinct she was now fully mindful of. Knowing bone-deep that she's the Control Devil puts a lot of that in perspective. And yet Ryukyu uses that power to help people, to help her. It's no necessary evil; it's an unnecessary good. As Ryukyu returns to her chair, Makima can't help but admire that.
What's left unsaid, for it isn't her place, is that the charges are ridiculous. That's for the chief defendant lawyer - or whatever they're called, Makima isn't exactly sure, and she chastises herself for lacking the foreknowledge - to state, finishing their case.
Makima glances back at the prosecution, meeting eyes as her ringed ones sweep over the huddled HPSC stooges. Disdain fills her. These people are pathetic, utterly beneath her, and she could exert her will over them in a second if she chooses to.
She turns her head back to stare at the judge. There's no need. The people around her are just as capable of sticking it to the HPSC. Without the loyal defense and love of her family, without Ryukyu and her agency's resources, without the testimony of the people she's saved, she'd have never made it this far. Hell, she'd probably be dead under a bridge or back in the orphanage or muzzled by the HPSC and made to do their dirty work.
And not once has she needed to control any of them to do that.
The verdict is clear: the HPSC gets nothing, and their representatives storm out in a rage, leaving the defence to celebrate their success. Makima gets lifted into the air by Masato and hugged so tightly she'd imagine he's a devil himself, and all four Shinsous leave rejoicing, hit in the face by the chilly night air and ducking around crowds that were leaving as well, the verdict being given.
"Well, I'm pooped. At least we're already in the city. Anyone want to get dinner? I'm thinking hot pot!" Masato cheers, Hitoshi nodding eagerly. Makima nods unthinkingly as well, and thus a quorum is reached.
An hour later they sit around the restaurant table with stuffed bellies, Makima idly sucking on a complimentary lollipop. 'Cola'. There's a memory there, but it's too faded to remember. She doesn't try to pursue it, instead looking across at Hitoshi.
It's more than her life's goal. She'd follow her brother anywhere. And the day's given her some perspective on how heroes can help people.
Makima loves humanity. And she wants to be a part of it. She eats, she drinks, she breathes, all the mechanical components are there. She loves, too, deeply loves her mother and father and brother for the love they share with her and for the life they've given her. She fears losing that more than anything in the world. Even if her smell's stronger than her sight, even if she receives strange dreams, even if she feels this… inkling that there's one last piece locked behind her dreams that will reveal who she used to be, she decides that what she wants now is different.
"I think I want to try for UA as well," she mutters unthinkingly.
Six years pass since Makima decides to go to UA and become a hero like her brother.
A lot happens in that time, yet nothing at all. Hitoshi, for his part, goes through a surlier phase before mellowing out. His hair grows wilder and his eyebags deeper, and at one point he begins to suffer from insomnia before Makima makes a routine of commanding him to fall asleep every night and get a full eight hours, and that works a treat. It's just one more way her devil powers can be used benevolently, and each of these types of opportunities warms her heart.
Both siblings go through puberty, as teens on the cusp of pubescence are liable to do. The new attention her peers give her isn't lost on Makima, but they receive no attention back - they are the same that bullied her for her 'villain' quirk, after all. It's strange going to school with humans when one is a devil, and much easier to stick close to a select group of the good ones. Makima may love humans, but that doesn't mean her opinion of them is rosy.
For her part, Makima develops a composed, regal beauty, and becomes less prone to emotional outbursts. This, she proudly informs Mom and Dad, tends to happen with devils over time, before her bubble is burst by the fact that it's the same with humans. She goes through a phase of dyeing her hair purple before deciding she likes her natural red. She continues studying rigorously, adding whatever is necessary to enter UA to the mix, and continues to tutor her brother for it.
The road to eighteen years of age is dotted by many memorable happenings. Makima begs to adopt a dog. The other three Shinsous veto this. The family acquires two cats instead, and assign Hitoshi and Makima the task of naming them.
Hitoshi names his sooty, because he's black, like soot. Makima's is loud, yappy, and always filthy. It reminds her of someone, a fiend she vaguely remembers but can't gin up distinct memories of. She decides to name hers vanilla, after vanilla slices.
The family makes many visits to the dog park and the aquarium. Occasionally, they find a quiet space in the park so Hitoshi can practice his quirk and Makima can flex her devil powers. The inability to test them on her family is irksome, especially with the temptation to find somebody random and wipe their memory after, but Hitoshi would be disappointed in her, so she refrains. That, and it's the wrong thing to do. It's hard for her to tell which of these reasons should be more important.
Besides, her contracts still work.
As she's sitting in the car, watching signs go by and power lines pass with Hitoshi to her side, Makima ponders everything that's lead up to this moment. Her near-perfect memory supplies the parallel to long ago when she was first discovered on the streets. Was she found in Musutafu, where they're headed now? Or will she never know where? Does it matter at all?
The car comes to a stop in a limited parking zone. UA wants parents out as fast as possible, considering the volume of applicants for the entrance exam. She can appreciate that kind of orderly, logical policy. The test she's about to take is the culmination of eighteen years of life, but for UA, it's just another year.
"Ohh, my little boy and girl, all grown up!" Nori coos, leaning back with laser-guided focus to punch Hitoshi's cheeks. Hitoshi presses himself against the car seat and unbuckled himself, squeezing through the barely-open door in a half second, and she pouts. Makima gracefully offers up her own cheek instead. A lifetime of casual, familial, affectionate touch would still be too little.
"Hitoshi! Where're you going? Get back here so we can say we love you! Hey! Hey- he's already through the gates!" Masato calls out, slumping over the wheel in dismay. "He hasn't even done the test yet and he's already too cool for us!"
"There there, dear," Nori pats his shoulder and turns back to Makima. "Look after him, sweetie. And do your best!"
"Thank you, Mom," she nods. "I love you!"
"Love you too! And tell your idiot brother I love him too!"
"Tell him from me as well!"
"Your idiot father as well."
"Hey!"
Makima chuckles, waving and striding gracefully through the gates like she owns the place. Perhaps it's foolish to be too confident, but she's a devil amidst humans, and she's never failed a piece of homework. She'd be foolish not to be confident. She has an ace up her sleeve, after all.
Her first impressions of UA are… normal. Pro heroes she's only seen on TV and cereal boxes are the proctors, splitting up groups of students and keeping those from the same school sitting further apart from each other. The first half of the exam, the written, is split into a multitude of huge rooms, each headed by one of UA's staff. Makima is lucky enough to score the Dean.
The other students stream past, whispering to each other as they find their seats, some of them staring at the Dean.
Do none of them see it? Whether it's due to her inhuman sense of smell or her instincts as the Horseman of Conquest, she knows the Dean is no mere man - he's some form of rodent, if a much more intelligent and mutated one. He glances up to meet her ringed eyes for a moment before smartly averting his gaze to a point of space on the bridge of her nose. Most wouldn't catch it, but most are not Makima. Is it instinctual fear or feeling the insistent tugging at his mind one gets when they look into her eyes that prompts his aversion?
"Move along, now! The examination will be beginning soon!" Dean Nezu cheerily chirps. It's an affectation he adopts, a facade to mimic human emotions by a being who doesn't express themselves the same way yet only lives among them.
Somehow, Makima relates to a rat. With a curt nod and her ever-neutral smile, she turns and keeps moving, looking for her seat.
The test itself is dense, but the information she's already studied. Mathematics, physics, biology, chemistry, some English, most of this is expected and prepared for. Makima excels in all of it, particularly English. Does being a devil give her an unfair advantage? No more than those with mental quirks, perhaps. The only real complication is the prickling feeling of the Dean's eyes on her even if there are no birds nearby to commandeer and prove it.
Then, she arrives at the more important questions. The ones one can't properly study for since they don't know what's on the exam - more UA-specific ones. Each entrant has one of four types of exam, depending on which course they wish to enroll in, and for Makima, that means hers are for the hero course.
Describe your quirk, it's functions, and potential applications for heroism.
Makima has done enough research to tell that from simple inference, the Dean is not in bed with the HPSC. She's old enough to understand how corrupt, monstrous, and shadowy such an organisation must be, and staying out of their reach is non-negotiable. She can trust this isn't information that will enter their hands, and so she answers honestly… well, as honest as a devil can when when masquerading as a human.
'My quirk is called 'Control', and it allows me to exert full control over myself and others, body and mind.
When applied to myself, I am able to induce superhuman vitality including strength, speed, and stamina, as well as a high regeneration factor. Alone, these abilities would allow me to operate on a level beyond the average civilian.
My abilities to control others mentally include memory, sensory, and perceptual alteration to a high degree, and full control over one' body and actions. This would allow me to command villains to surrender instantly and even clean up damage and destruction they cause.
Additionally, being able to influence others mentally would allow me to calm down civilians in danger or knock them out painlessly if they are a danger to themselves or others.
My control abilities also let me write binding contracts with others do lend them my own strength, or, conversely, to borrow theirs, as long as they willingly accede to them. This could be helpful,, in such a case as a trapped and wounded civilian, that I could bind them to a contract wherein they briefly attain my healing factor and durability, increasing their safety and chance of survival.' That she can force others to 'willingly accede' to a contract is unspoken.
'I can also control…'
Makima decides to cut herself short. It's not wise to talk about those who are listening. She erases that last word.
'...borrow the senses of some animals. This would allow me to..."
She wraps that question up and moves in. Annoyingly, the hero portion seems very focused on two things - law and ethics. The first she's well-versed in, having studied it rigorously since her trial. The latter still beguiles her.
After the practical, they're all treated to lunch. With her inhuman physicality she is the only one who properly treats herself, everyone else too afraid to overstuff and give themselves a cramp. The head chef, Lunch Rush, is superb, and Hitoshi has to drag her away from getting a fifth serving of cake. The two of them pore over their examination areas, sent to separate zones - likely to recent collusion. Makima hides her smirk.
Hitoshi whispers, "Do you need to refresh it or anything?"
Ah, yes, their little trick. She shakes her head. The loud, blaring voice of Present Mic explains the rules - destroying robots. It's a test contingent on brute physical force, or at least that's how it seems on the surface. They're briefly interrupted by a loud student chastising another for chatter they didn't even hear. Hitoshi scoffs under his breath.
A projection of Present Mic, voice hero, pops up in front of all the students. Seems like she isn't lucky enough to be in the zone with him in person. "Is everyone READDDDDYYYYYY?" he calls out, his voice loud enough to that she realizes she's not hearing the projection, but his voice all the way across campus in the other examination areas. Murmuring answers him, some looking determined, others looking worried. Makima looks indifferent, and catches a brief cheeky smirk on the projection's face. 'A trick?' she muses, tensing.
"THAT'S GREAT, LITTLE LISTENERS! EXAM STARTS NOW!"
'...what?' A similar confused clamouring joins her thoughts, but she's quick to shake the feeling away., He's the one heading the exam, so she won't be penalized for following his directions. And if he's not tricking anyone, then a head start will do her good - prove her better as a hero candidate than the masses around her, because that's the point of an exam.
And so, even as he keeps blathering on, her legs push off the ground with superhuman strength. Finally, Makima can properly exert herself, and nobody's doing to stop her! Practically flexing devilish wings, she launches herself into the fray, blitzing ahead of the pack, until the first robot is in sight.
Eyeing a camera nearby she decides to make the first one one to remember, and shoots out a golden chain that wraps itself around a faux-lamp post. Throwing herself forward, all of her strength in that lunge, the chain meets metal and the robot's cleaved in two by the neck.
She lands. One point. Presumably, a pretty high number to go. Firing another chain and dissipating the first, she clings onto the corner of a rooftop and prepares to swing ahead.
One would believe that she'd feel sympathy for her brother, or perhaps righteous frustration. His quirk is useless against robots and his physical strength, while improved through exercise and conditioning, can only take him so far. Punching robots only works for so long before a person bloodies their knuckles.
But Makima wasn't worried in the slightest. See, any devil can make a contract with anybody. One of the things a devil contract can do is grant somebody powers - Makima recalls having the ability to use her finger as an actual gun, though proper memories involving this elude her.
These kinds of contracts are power granted by one devil to another. But what is to say the reverse cannot happen?
One month before the exam, Makima approached Hitoshi and explained the plan to him. Then, she took his hand.
"This is a contract," she stated, eyes boring into his own and sealing the pact into both of their souls."Shinsou Makima grants Shinsou Hitoshi access to her strength, speed, and stamina. In return, Shinsou Hitoshi grants Shinsou Makima access to his quirk."
"Youre sure this is allowed?"
"No rule against using our powers to help others," she nodded. "Believe me, I checked."
And thus the devil and her brother made a deal. A leg up for him, a new neat tool in the arsenal for her.
"Wow…" he flexed his fist, feeling supernatural power rippling through it. "Fuck, I knew you were strong but this is insane. With this… I was planning on getting in through the sports festival or something, not the main exam. I hear it's always combat focused."
"Precisely my plan. Oh, and Hitoshi?"
"Yeah?" he replied, taking the bait. His eyes go blank for a moment before she releases him.
"Now I've got a trick against you when we're paired up against each other in class," she smiled.
And thus, the devil and her brother made a deal, one whose benefits were already being reaped in the examination zone nearby.
CRASH!
Hitoshi pulls his hand from the wreckage of a robot, staring at it astonished. He'd exercised, trained, practiced, all of it to not fall behind the sister so far ahead of him, and just a taste of the strength she wields - to say nothing of her powers of mental domination - is awe-inspiring.
It's a strange feeling, a strength not his own coming through his fists, the few nicks and scrapes from punching metal. If he had to compare it to something, it's like a ghost of her is standing over his shoulder, and every punch he throws briefly connects him to her, like she's performing the attack for him. A lifetime's worth of quirk understanding makes him think this is cheating, that it's temporary, that she can't possibly hold it forever, but… she can.
There's quite a few differences between a human and a devil. Her heart beats slower, what she eats doesn't seem to really affect her, and she has this… undertone to her. He's not quite sure how to voice it, but her explanation of being the devil of control - the entire concept of it - makes sense.
She has a subtly forceful personality, a presence that fills a room not with spectacle but quiet subversion. She has the most power out of anybody in a given room, and though she doesn't project it the power sits on her shoulders like there's no weight at all. Thoroughly immaculate in dress and composure, Makima is very unlike the rest of the Shinsous. Perhaps it's that that lets them get along so well - Hitoshi's not sure he'd get along with a second him.
He's proud, immensely proud, of how far she's come. She's not as loud or brash as she was when younger, but she's still vocal and opinionated about the things she cares about - movies and dogs, law and heroics, extravagant desserts, the Earth, devils, and wanting to stay a part of the family.
Every once in a while she slips back into that older mindset; that she has to be in control, that the opinions of others should be malleable to her whims and will, that it's impossible to be loved any other way than an owner is loved by their dogs. She does it less than she used to, but he still can't help but worry.
Makima's with him the whole exam, as he carves his way through robot after robot, using his quirk here and there mostly to calm down panickers. So he'll be with her too.
He'll make it into UA. He'll stick by her side, keep her on the right track. It's what a hero does.
It's what a brother does.
It's a common sight in the examination control centre to see Nezu, the Dean of UA, standing atop one of the many desks to compensate for his short height, watching a monitor. It's an unremarkable sight when he studies one student with particular intent, tracking their movements with his beady black eyes, an abyssal intellect scouring his vision for everything he can.
What is decidedly rare is that he is frowning.
"Who is that girl?" Nezu inquires, pointing at a camera shot of a red-haired girl blazing through the streets, practically gliding around on yellow chains and smashing robots to pieces as she points at other examinees in danger zones, ordering them out of the paths of fire before the subjects themselves even realize they're in danger.
"Shinsou Makima," Cementoss answers, scratching his blocky head with a stone finger. "Her exam results are… baffling, in the quirk section. We've seen ones with dual natures, or heteromorphs with multiple innate abilities, but nothing like this. Her quirk is so multifaceted it may as well be multiple different ones."
All Might stiffens in his chair. "Pardon?"
"Healing factor, durability strength, the ability to control through chains-"
"And gazes. I briefly met eyes with her in the corridor and was almost entrapped by it," Nezu recounts. "It was rather unpleasant." Had any of his staff been close enough, or the room not been so dark, they would've seen his white fur bristle, standing on end.
"...additionally, as we now see, she can travel through chains… she can write contracts to give others her abilities."
"Oh, that explains her brother!" Midnight bursts out. "I was having conniptions trying to figure out how he's smashing robots and tearing them apart with his bare hands. See?" Guiding their attention to a monitor, the purple-haired boy is seen breaking apart a one-pointer with a clumsy elbow charge. "She must be lending her strength to him! Isn't that sweet?"
"Isn't that cheating?"
"There's nothing in the rules against it," Aizawa grunts in a rather outspoken way for the perpetually-deadpan man. "It feels like cheating, but it technically isn't."
"I have the distinct feeling this will be a situation that warrants further investigation," Nezu states, before turning back to his staff. "They'll both be in your class, Aizawa. Keep a very close eye on them. You too, Yagi."
Aizawa and All Might turn to each other and nod, uncomfortable. For the former, it's a bad feeling in his chest. For the latter, it's quite a bit more. The beginning of the school year fills them with a nervous anticipation, not wanting anything bad to come from Nezu's hunch.
1st Place: Shinsou Makima - 46 Villain Points - 35 Rescue Points - 81 Total
2nd Place: Bakugou Katsuki - 77 Villain Points - 0 Rescue Points - 77 Total
3rd Place: Shiozaki Ibara - 45 Villain Points - 30 Rescue Points - 75 Total
4th Place: Uraraka Ochako - 35 Villain Points - 45 Rescue Points - 70 Total
5th Place: Kirishima Eijirou - 39 Villain Points - 29 Rescue Points - 68 Total
6th Place: Kendo Itsuka - 25 Villain Points - 40 Rescue Points - 65 Total
7th Place: Iida Tenya - 52 Villain Points - 9 Rescue Points - 61 Total
8th Place: Midoriya Izuku - 0 Villain Points - 60 Rescue Points - 60 Total
9th Place: Tokoyami Fumikage - 47 Villain Points - 10 Rescue Points - 57 Total
10th Place: Tsunotori Pony - 40 Villain Points - 16 Rescue Points - 56 Total
But come, the school year does. Waking up at approximately five in the morning, Makima had ironed her UA uniform for the second time in three days, meticulously smoothing out every wrinkle and crease, before going through her beauty routine and fixing her hair into a perfect chain braid, checking her pre-packed bag, and made breakfast before the other Shinsous came downstairs.
She glances sideways at Hitoshi's own uniform, noting its comparative scruffiness with amusement. "We'll be fine!" she assures her anxious mother and father, checking her blazer for wrinkles one last time before grabbing Hitoshi's wrist and dragging him along. For their stay at UA, due to their family's distance from the prestigious university, the two of them will be staying in provided dorms for heroics course students. Their first train ride over, though, symbolizes them leaving the nest.
It's been Makima's home for nearly a decade, the only home she's ever known. The only family she's ever known. Leaning down to hug her mom, then her dad, she freely allows a few tears to slip from her eyes, relishing in the warm hug. "We'll be back for the holidays, you know."
"We'll still miss you so, so much. Gosh, it was only yesterday you were ignoring us for the TV. Look at you now!" Masato exclaims. Hitoshi's pulled in as well, and Makima pretends not to notice his own tears even as Masato and Nori give him guff and twist his cheek and ruffle his hair for the last time in a while.
Eventually, though, comes the time they need to leave and catch he next train, or be late for their first class, and that's something Makima will not abide by. With a parting glance, her ringed eyes travel over every surface in the house's entrance area, and she pulls her suitcase over the threshold.
The ride is rather silent, neither she or Hitoshi up for talking. Neither are talkative, so the silence is comfortable, even if charged with a nervous jittery energy that first days at new schools tend to imbue. Before she knows it, the two of them are off the train, through the gates, and heading down the hallway towards class 1-A.
Makima breathes in steadily, recalling the map she memorized, and turns the corner with her brother, staring down the colossal sliding door to their classroom, emblazoned proudly with the words 'CLASS 1-A.'
And… she stops in her tracks. Because for the longest time in a while, perhaps in six years, she feels that familiar feeling, that calling of the void, that deja vuthat lurks in the back of her mind and in the darkest depths of her dreams.
Memories? Most of her dreams are memories. But this particular dream, she now foggily half-remembers, was more… figurative. Abstract, even.
In this dream, Makima was in front of the door of an apartment. It was a rather pleasant and spacious one, albeit lacking many personal affects decorating it - much colder and more lonely than the walls of the Shinsou residence. To her right, a traditional painting - Satan Descends Upon Earth by Gustave Doré - and to her left, a fully-stocked shoe cabinet.
She senses a presence behind her, but her eyes are rooted forward. Her door is tall, blank, and featureless. She walks forward, entranced, reaching a hand out to open it. Unlike in her usual dreamlike memories, it's her hand, not her… other, older self. A vision, maybe?
"Don't open it."
She freezes. She turns around. A young boy - but isn't he only a year or two younger than her now? - with a shaggy mane of blonde hair greets her, no smile on his face.
"Denji?"
"Don't open it. No matter what," he says, voice calm yet thrumming with the power of a chainsaw.
"What?" she asks.
"I said let's go. You're staring at nothing," Hitoshi huffs. Makima's back in the real world before she knows it. Shaking her head and clearing it of cobwebs, she readies herself. In truth, she has no idea what to expect. Whatever the case, the school year's going to be an interesting one.
She strides forwards, and hesitates. Hitoshi, no doubt rolling his eyes, moves ahead of her and slides it open, walking in lazily with his lands in his pockets, Makima following shortly behind with a more composed posture. "Yo! Welcome!" a boy with tape dispensers on his elbows calls out. "You two in 1-A as well? Neato, the name's Sero Hanta!"
"Shinsou Hitoshi," Hitoshi nods back, walking over to his seat at the front of the class - not his preferred spot, as he's griped to her innumerable times already. As for Makima, she turns to the boy who greeted them and gives a curt and polite bow accompanied by a light and symmetrical smile effortlessly composed as always.
"It's a pleasure to meet you too. My name is Shinsou Makima."
"It's a pleasure to meet you too. My name is Shinsou Makima."
Sero takes the devil's offered hand and gives it a boisterous shake. "Great! Everyone's so nice! Man, I thought there'd be a buncha hot-shot types here, hero course and all!"
Makima's eyes trail over the rest of the sparsely-populated room, and she can see what he means - perhaps All Might and the rest of the heroes on TV have given her an overinflated idea of a hero being larger than life. That, or this is exactly what their time in Class 1-A Will solve, to make resolute grinning heroes from them all to please the adoring crowds.
The second theory makes more sense - the only others in the room are a boy with two-toned hair highlights who sits silently, another who's too busy organising his notes with a stuffy rigidity to bother making friends, a quiet ponytailed girl with her nose deep in a book who occasionally glances furtively around - 'she's scared to socialize', Makima thinks, her devil's mind cataloguing it as a potential 'in' to gain her favour - and a blonde boy with ridiculously spiky hair who also glances around, but with the countenance of a guard dog with rabies, as if he'll gnash at anyone who comes too close.
Funnily enough, for his talk of fearing the boisterous, Sero seems to be the most typical exemplification of heroics as an industry in the room. Makima's immediately remedied of that notion by the next person who slams the door open.
"Heyoooo! Who's ready for to be heroes, eh? Ooh, what's your name? I'm-"
'Tsugihagi?'
"-Ashido Mina! What's your name? Sero? Hell yeah, my man! Gimme some sugar!"
As she and Sero high-five, Makima tries to shake the memory there. No, whoever Tsugihagi is, whatever shattered fragments of memory she can see, this is not her… but the resemblance is there, is it not? It's the eyes, with those dark sclera, she decides. Her personality is much more like Himeno, but without that buried sadness.
The class begins to fill out, Mina quickly forming a small group around her as social butterflies do, almost everyone resolutely ignoring the frostier members of the class. Some of the last arrivals are a brunette and a verdette, the latter of which seems very jumpy for someone who seems to have a faint spectre of possession looking over them. It might be quirk-related, though, so she won't pry, content to observe with interest with her devil's eyes. He reminds her of Higayashi and her blubbery whininess. 'I wonder if he can pull through when push comes to shove like she could.' she wonders, before her thoughts catch on a peculiarity. 'When she could what?'
For now, Makima hangs back and watches, absorbing and analysing the forming social dynamics. She and Hitoshi won't be bullied as long as she has any measure of control over this classroom. It's rotten luck that the pink-skinned Ashido also reminds her of a second of quyanxi's girls with her horns, because that's Long… or Power, perhaps? And the red-haired boy beside her reminds her of the Shark Fiend, Beam, who… what did he do again? She can remember all the specifics about the man except for his actual place in her world. Faces and memories, shattered and splintered apart, give Makima everything but context.
Who was he to Makima?
Who was Makima to him?
She pretends the door isn't there.
They're interrupted by the appearance of their teacher, for some reason concealing himself in a garnish yellow bag louder than the rest of his entire outfit. His eyes briefly flick to Makima before he ushers them outside in gym clothes to participate in a test upon induction.
'Interesting.'
"The person who comes last, and who I determine does not have a lick of potential, will be removed from this course," he states. He is not lying - and the ponytailed girl seems to realise this as well.
Makima instinctively turns to Hitoshi to ask for his cooperation - a succinct demonstration of her abilities isn't complete without contracted strength, and he is the only one likely to tolerate her control. However, when she turns… he's instead immersed within a crowd of boys, nodding to himself as a bird-headed one talks.
'Ah, I see. You want to motivate me to make friends, Hitoshi?' Makima thinks, a wry grin threatening to peek through her impassive lips. 'You know I would never put anything less than my best foot forward, and would have to rely on you for that, and thus decided to remove yourself in a way where whether I ignore you or seek you out, I am forced to confront others first. A masterful play, brother. Perhaps you've picked up a thing or two from me…'
Meanwhile, Hitoshi kept nodding. 'If I could just think of an excuse to stop listening to this guy…'
Makima decided to approach the group of girls that had coalesced, patiently waiting for their attention to shift to her before she began to speak. "It's nice to meet you all. Could I ask your names?"
Yaoyorozu, Hagakure, Jirou, Ashido (who she already knew anyway, but whom decided to reintroduce herself for the hell of it, Asui, and Uraraka were they. "Shinsou Makima," she answered in turn.
"Nice to meetcha!" Hagakure chirps, doing a little hop and pumping an invisible fist up. "Hey, can I call you Makima instead of Shinsou? It's gonna be weird having two Shinsou otherwise."
"Fair enough," she nods. "I suppose my brother would prefer to be kept to his last name, so it will suit him better. Internally, she suppresses the joy she fee;s - while she enjoys her family name every time she's called it, it did still indicate informality. And as much as Makima finds comfort in formal rituals…
Mina slings her arm around her shoulder, a simple, casual touch. "Look at that! We're friends already!"
…she likes being among her peers more. But, despite that fact, there was still the thorny issue of Control. Hitoshi seemed to be demonstrating his abilities to some of the boys now, but his had clearly-defined limitations as a human's quirk tends to do. Hers… does not.
Best to keep it mum for the time being in favour of her other abilities, which are anyway far more suited to a physical test like this. Plan set, she tunes back in to the girls' conversation, listening intently and indicating attention here and there to keep the others aware of her presence without coming off as an annoyance.
Socializing is hard, Makima finds, even when she's not speaking. There's a million things to keep track of just to keep her head above the water. It's easier with family - not so much with eighteen new people, or even just six.
"...walks past with a huge dog that looked like it had a million mops tied to it and-"
"Pardon? What type of dog?" Makima cuts in. Internally, she lambasts herself for the hastiness. 'Not too quickly, you need time to-'
"Dunno. But the guy looked like a living carpet. Long, flowing hair, nicer than mine!" Ashido complains.
"Then it would've been an Afghan Hound," Makima nods, satisfied to solve the conundrum.
"Do you know a lot about dogs, Makima?"
"I… have an encyclopedia at home," she half-lies. The fact she has an encyclopedia at home is true, at least, though it doesn't do much except collect dust. She's memorized every dog in it."
"I like dogs too! We used to have one at home before… money issues," Uraraka chips in.
"We have a cat. I rather enjoy spending time with our dear Mimi," Yaoyorozu nervously interjects. When Ashido's excited eyes flick to her, she flinches, shriveling, but the pink-skinned girl immediately natters on about how much she loves cats and her favourite cat breed and a manner of other things that keep everyone else entertained but make the taller girl look distinctly overwhelmed.
Briefly, the impulse to compel Ashido to be quieter comes to Makima's mind, but she dismisses it easily. Sucking in a silent breath and unsure how to otherwise ameliorate the situation, she waits for the spectacle to end. Ashido's rant's diverges into UA again. "-and the uniforms are so cool too! I never get to show off my quirk anywhere, so this is gonna be so f-"
"Fun?" Aizawa interrupts, appearing from seemingly nowhere. "Is that right? Heroics is fun and games to you?"
Ashido presumably disagrees, but when she opens her mouth to refute his claims her words die on her lips as he silences them with a glare that puts Hitoshi when he drinks decaf to shame. Aizawa begins to go on a tangent about heroics being serious business, and Makima's inclined to agree with him, but she diverts focus back to Yaoyorozu while everyone else's attention is captured.
"Are you okay?" she prompts.
"W-What?" The tall girl pulls at the band of her ponytail, tightening it to what looks like a painful degree. "Y-Yes, I'm fine, don't worry! Thank you, Shinsou, sincerely, but-"
"Call me Makima. And please don't lie to me. I can tell when you do," she comments. "It's fine to be overwhelmed. I understand it myself. I suppose I'm stating the obvious, but I'm quite anxious myself.
"...are you?"
"Yes," she replies blandly. "Look into my eyes." Yaoyorozu complies, her relatively weak mind succumbing instantly. Makima has her hooks in her, but does nothing - the trance state on its own lets the other girl get her own bearings, ans when her breathing's evened out she's released. "Better?"
"Better," Yaoyorozu whispers. "What was that? I-If I may ask."
"My quirk," Makima lies, looking away. Sentimentality, a familiar feeling, sets in, and she decides to add just a sprinkling of truth. "I call it 'Control'.
"It was very helpful. Thank you, sincerely," Yaoyorozu beams, gratitude emanating from her being. "Mine is named 'Creation. With it, I can create… anything non-living, functionally, provided I understand its composition fully."
Makima takes the little Mak-tryoshka doll she generates with a flourish and observes it. Tasteful wood grain and an immaculate layer of varnish. "You could potentially solve rare resource crises with this," she decides to say. "I'm impressed." Yaoyorozu will be a good person to endear, and the reasons are only partially non-sentimental. Makima still has a reputation from her old school as a fearsome ice queen, so being greeted with acceptance so quickly… may turn out to be a drug. Best to caution herself and await the adverse effects.
"Listen up! Our first test is a simple ball throw. Anything goes, so long as you apply your quirk if it's possible and do your bes to throw this ball as far as you can without leaving the circle. Bakugou, you go first as a demonstration - everyone watch, and if you have a powerful emitter similar to this, take notes."
Makima doesn't but she watches anyway as he explodes verbally before sending the ball into the air with a violent flash. Bakugou, she decides, would be a valuable ally to keep on her side, if it weren't for the fact that he's demonstrated himself to be a loose cannon. Perhaps at a later date, when his temper is more tempered. Then again, that aggressiveness could be chanelled given the right situation, perhaps neutered.
Following that, Hagakure comes next - her ball flies a measly distance compared to Bakugou's. "This is a valuable lesson for you - there are some things a quirk simply cannot do. Accept that and move on," he drawls, eyes flicking towards Midoriya. Makima frowns at Hagakure's dejected return. He's right, but does he have to be so rude about it?
"Next, a more technical type of quirk. If you have one of these, prepare to exercise your mind as much as your body - some quirks are most useful, or only useful, if you can figure out how to exploit their intricacies. Shinsou Makima, come up."
Thinking for a moment, Makima turns to Uraraka, clearing her throat when she's nearby and posed like a businesswoman.
"Pardon, Uraraka. Would I be able to draft a contract with you and use your quirk for the rest of the exercise?"
She smiles lightly and kindly - almost disarmingly. Who would be able to refuse such a polite request? Certainly not Uraraka, who accedes, and takes her hand with the barest trace of hesitation.
"This is a Contract. Uraraka Ochako will allow Shinsou Makima to use her quirk for the next hour in return for my strength." They shake in it and Uraraka retracts her hand for examination, expecting a tingle or some other sensation.
"You've got a firm grip!" She decides on.
Makima smiles. "Why, thank you." Touching the ball, she similarly sends it up into the air, Uraraka staring at it with a mystified awe. As impressive as her own throw had been, a perfect duplicate - or transferral of it - was even more so.
The two girls turn back to join the crowd, but Aizawa's presence behind her makes Makima halt, Ochako looking at her in confusion for a moment before glancing up and startling. "Ai-Aizawa-sensei? D-Did we do something wrong?"
"No," he grunts. "However, it would be illogical to allow you to continue to use Shinsou's strength, or it could skew test results. Shinsou, annul the contract."
Makima raises an eyebrow. "Skew? My contracts and the support potential they offer are a pivotal part of my skillset as a future hero, aren't they? Surely displaying them during an apprehension test is appropriate."
"You can't always rely on support. A hero, before anything else, needs to be autonomous on the field. Solo heroes can work in teams, but if you can't work solo, you'll be caught off-guard," he counters. "Your contracts can't be on indefinitely." Ochako sweats between the two of them as Makima takes a step forward, looking him in the eye. Aizawa holds her gaze impressively despite the fact he's certainly feeling light-headed already.
"They can," she answers, turning back around. Perhaps Aizawa would think her arrogant, but it's the truth. Rolling his eyes, Aizawza watches as Ochako bids her farewell and approaches the self-directed grip strength testers, deciding to put her newfound strength to use. As she does, behind Makima's back his eyes subtly flare red.
Zero Gravity has no bearing on a grip strength test, as the sensors within are based on the siple force of coiled tension. Having erased Makima's quirk, the contract should be deactivated.
Ochako clears the grip strength easily. It's not an indictment of a day-one hero student to say that while she's fit, she is nowhere near the range possible to be able to do that.
'But I erased her quirk…?'
Perhaps it's just the way her contracts work, he reasons. Some quirks are passively always active, like heteromorphic abilities - but those are ingrown into one's body.
So he tries again, when she takes a mighty leap across the long jump field.
And again, when she summons rats from the forest and teleports for the distance sprint.
And again, when she latches her golden chains to the ground to speed up her repeated side steps.
Over and over, his quirk fails to work on Makima. He keeps this to himself - can't have her be too suspect. When the exercise ends and everyone's dismissed early, he returns to the teachers' lounge and puffs All Might from his moronic larger form, where he'd been obviously flexing for Nemuri, straight back into his true gaunt stature.
"We have an issue."
"How bad?" Nemuri asks, perplexed.
"This goes straight to Nedzu."
"I AM HERE!"
Something strange is definitely going on, Makima thinks, because she swears that even though All Might's eyes are a totally black void enshrouded by his heavy brow and general heroic vigour, he's watching her. She can't place it but it's there, ever-present, like a column of ants marching down her spine even as she slips into the social circle of the rest of the girls excitedly chattering about the upcoming exercise.
As the Number One hero, a man at the top of the world and a bastion of awe-inspiring power so potent even she can sense his strength and charisma, fumbles his teaching introduction she and the others peruse their hero costumes. Most opt for some kind of jumpsuit or leotard, like Tsuyu, Yaoyorozu, or Mina, while Uraraka has a few extra fittings, Jirou wearing casual mixed with support gear, and Hagakure wears nothing. For her own part, she dons a black trenchcoat and smart pants along with a work shirt and red tie, accompanied by combat boots and a decorative chain belt - the look simply feels right.
Thankfully, All Might's mind is occupied by other things during the first match. He must be observing Midoriya too, which lets her heart rest a little more at ease. During it, Midoriya goes… well, from zero to a hundred with his quirk, much like the apprehension test. Then Bakugou solves the issue by decimating the entire place, and Ochako slaps herself onto the bomb before things can spiral even more out of control.
All the while, Makima profiles her classmates - she'll be spending three years with them, so it's sound reasoning. Iida is rigid, Midoriya has a hidden wellspring of courage he rarely gins up, and Uraraka continues to prove herself capable. Her initial impressions of Bakugou are spot-on, though. As three of them are wheeled out to the infirmary, Iida the only one remaining relatively unharmed, she can only hope the next match is less… brutal.
"Oh dear… I'm up next," Yaoyorozu worries beside her. Book-smart and fiercely intelligent, that's her profile… albeit without the experience or confidence to back it up. All the smarts in the world are no use if she chickens out of requesting too much from the support companies for a better costume, which explains the atrocious leotard. Though she puts on a strong front, she's quivering in her boots.
"I'm certain you'll do well," Makima reassures her, placing a warm hand on her shoulder. Physical contact and intimacy will do well to assure the anxious girl - a tactic much like the rest of her family employs on her. "If nothing else, my brother's on your team too, see?" she points at the rosters. "I think you'll be more than a match for Kaminari and Jirou."
"Thank you…" Yaoyorozu smiles, apparently mollified. It's good to have the other girl trust her, and equally strange of a feeling considering how small Makima's circle has been so far. She drifts away to join Hitoshi, and Makima stares up at the screen - Hitoshi and Yaoyorozu on defense, or 'villains', with Jirou and Kaminari as the 'heroes'. Hitoshi's smart, so he'd know not to target the cool-headed Jirou and instead go for Kaminari, who's already established himself as a blabbermouth.
And indeed he does! By the time the match has started Yaoyorozu had saturated the compound they were tasked with defending a prop bomb in with noise-dampeners and simple gizmos that cause a racket and lay a soundscreen to hide Hitoshi creeping around the side halls so he can sneak attack them. Kaminari and Jirou make it to the bomb room with little fanfare, only to discover a fortified bunker - one where the ground is lined with a conductive mesh to draw away any of Kaminari's electricity and isolate it in small pockets.
Makima chuffs, watching Hitoshi lie in wait on the cameras as Jirou starts blasting the defences with soundwaves. There's a flash, Hitoshi letting his metal cuff glint from around the corner and baiting the blonde to him. One of them's outside, I'll get him!" he declares, running after him before the irritated Jirou can interject. It's only when he's made it to the other that he realizes the mesh is still underfoot, and settles into a brawling stance.
"Kaminari." Hitoshi's voice is audible over the receiver. The blonde boy seals his lips shut as he keeps running, managing to outpace her brother. For all of his bluster and bravado, he clearly put effort in to get to UA, and might be more fit than Hitoshi is. But Hitoshi has an ace up his sleeve; Kaminari's body is fitter but one can only train their mind so much against mental incursion.
"Did you know that the tallest dog ever recorded in history was two stories tall? No quirks."
"What?" slips out of Kaminari's mouth, and he freezes mid-step, falling into a trance before hitting himself face-first on the ground. Comprehension dawns back on his face but before he can act, that slip-up's enough for Hitoshi to hastily wrap capture tape around his arm.
"Aww, man!" Kaminari whines. "Hey, GG, huh?"
"Sure, good game," Hitoshi shrugs. I'm gonna go help Yaoyorozu, so you… leave, I guess."
Turning his back on the boy, he's startled by one last question. "Wait! Was the dog thing real?"
Hitoshi turns back with a devilish grin. "Of course not, that was a lie. I'm a villain, didn't you you?"
"NOOOOOOOO!"
Makima, of course, knew this the whole time. The rest of the match played out without much fanfare - caught from behind by Hitoshi and from the front by Yaoyorozu's constructed defenses, her brother boxed her in and the two fo them chipped away, overstretching her jacks to end the exercise. Yaoyorozu got the last hit in with a jab to the leg that, as it happened, had the capture tape affixed to it akin to a large slap bracelet.
With that Hitoshi and Yaoyorozu returned with their heads herald high, Makima brimming with pride and satisfaction at the two of their victories. All Might asks for the MVPs, and Yaoyorozu launches into an exhaustative breakdown of what she could've done better and what the other team did well, Midoriya pitching in to compliment her.
When the next lots are drawn, it's Hagakure and Makima as defenders versus Todoroki and Shouji as attackers. Situated on the top floor, the two girls plan an ambush over their allotted time, Makima taking Shouji and Hagakure daring to try a sneak attack on Todoroki, both knowing they'd be better off eliminating their opponents at game start instead of waiting. They stay in their bomb chamber to prevent Shouji from catching win, waiting for All Might to declare the match start.
"ROUND THREE… BEGIN!"
Makima's feet are encased in ice, which is pleasantly cool. Either her unique physiology or her dress pants make it so that her reaction is much more muted compared ot Hagakure, who's already violently shivering. "C-C-C-Cold! That jerk!"
Oh, right. She's completely naked. Makima breaks through the ice and makes short work of it beneath Hagakure too. Retrieving the girl's boots is much harder, as they'd fallen over and been completely entombed, so instead Makima gives the girl her boots and makes do with only her socks. "He froze the floor of the entire trial centre," she observes.
"He's crazy-strong then. How are we supposed to beat that?" her teammate bemoans.
"He's overconfident, I could tell by how he acted during the apprehension test," Makima explains. "And he must not have watched me in return, or he'd know I'm strong enough to break out of this ice easily. He'll be expecting us to be stuck up here. I say we let him believe that.
A minute later, they can hear muffled voices down the empty halls. "I heard some muffled noises from this room," the six-armed boy explains. "That's where they should be stuck."
Todoroki strides in, unenthused. Makima prides herself on reading people, and there isn't a hint of smugness in that expression - it's confusing, but she doesn't have time to analyze it before it scrunches up in confusion. "You broke free?"
"You didn't pay attention, didya?" Hagakure taunts. "She's super-strong!"
"Well, so are we," Shouji huffs, holding an arm out. Similarly, Todoroki's hand is outstretched. Before either can act, Makima points out two fingers of her own. Yellow chains pierce both their heads, and they fall silent.
"What the…?" her teammate mumbles. Makima ignores the thrilling sensation of her mind and will spreading through the two, informing her Todoroki has fire he hasn't yet deigned to use. It's up to her to use it, then.
"Both of you surrender and tie your tape around yourselves. Todoroki, warm up Hagakure," she orders, voice piercing their minds like a nano-thin twine that ensnares their heartstrings and blinds their senses. Both accede without resistance and surrender, winning the match for her, and Todoroki lets a smallish flame grow in his hand and melts the frost around everyone, still blank as the released Shouji blinks back into awareness.
"We… lost?" he mumbles under his mask. Makima nods wordlessly, letting her second chain go as her teammate seems not to be chilly anymore. The second she does, Hagakure latches onto her gleefully.
"Makima! That was so cool! You got them in a single move! He totally thought he had us on ice but now he's feeling the burn, yeah! No villain could ever beat you!"
"Thank you," Makima replies sincerely, her cheeks heating up at the sensation of the other's body pressing on her own. "But you're squeezed up against me and… very naked."
"EEP!"
"VILLAINS WIN!"
The victors return triumphant and slightly wet from all the melted ice. "CONGRATULATIONS! What did we learn from this match, students? Any observations?" All Might asks, eyes sweeping over the class. They almost-invisibly freeze on her, and his smile tightens.
"I…. have little to say, to be honest," Yaoyorozu shrugs. "To use an American term, it was like a standoff. Todoroki fired one shot, Makima fired hers, and the round was over. He shouldn't have been that confident without knowing what his enemy had prepared."
"INDEED! Information gathering is a crucial aspect of being a pro!" All Might laughs boisterously, sounding like he's going to add something before moving on anyway. Yeah, he's definitely new to teaching.
"Makima! That was a quick match!" Yaoyorozu approaches with more pep in her step than the start of the day. "You did fantastically!"
"Yeah, she kind of carried me…" Hagakure laughs. "But I mean, what can you do, right? There'll be more fights in the future!"
"You quirk's so quick!" a Midoriya with a notebook balanced over his arm's cast appears, scribbling down words with his left hand. "And there's no activation requirement or anything?"
"Nah, she just popped 'em with a shot! All they can do is try and dodge!" Hagakure cheers. Makima decides to neglect mentioning she can do the same with naught but her voice. Instead, she focused on the attention, on the not-vitriolic crowd. It's a different feeling to high school, and she feels younger, oddly enough, than in high school. Here are her peers, who laud her strength and respect her for it rather than fear her or cower away. They share her interest of being a hero, they're all pursuing the same goal… comrades-in-arms.
And so she smiles, and begins to chat politely, and they all speculate on the details of the next match together.
A week passes. After the eventful first lesson, it's clear that things have been scaled back a bit to get everyone on their feet. The week after, it's announced that Class 1-A will be participating in rescue training, training to save civilians from disasters in various hazardous environments at the USJ. This is well-appreciated by Makima, as there's not many ways to rescue someone maliciously. No matter what power one has, it can look heroic enough rescuing. And while she likes her new classmates, they haven't seen the depth of what Control can do like her family has. These thoughts consume her mind as she sits in the bus transporting them there,
"Hey Class Rep?" Hagaskure asks from behind her. Oh, that's right, she's the class rep, selected by overwhelming majority. Truthfully, she did rather greedily desire the position - the idea of letting someone else take it and make a mess of things was just unthinkable to her, not when she can manage it so much better. One hitch in that is that her people skills are still lacking, and thus Hagakure becomes the vice-rep.
"Hm?" she tunes back in, checking for what warranted Hagakure pulling her out of her fugue state. Tsuyu's staring at her.
"Were you trying to rest?"
"No, no, just… lost in thought," she replies truthfully. "Was something the matter?"
"Just wanted to chat," Tsuyu croaks, a finger on her chin. "Usually, I say what I think, kero. Makima, what exactly does your quirk do? It seems all over the place."
"I understand the confusion," the devil amongst them nods. "But while a multivariate quirk like mine is rather rare, it's not impossible. Your quirk lets you do multiple things, does it not?"
"Yes, but mine changes how my body works. Yours seems like an emitter-type, but it's still very broad…" Unknowingly, Tsuyu is right on the money - Makima's 'quirk' is centred on her physical being as a devil, but of course she couldn't know that. She's done enough research into this world to know that.
Ever since the knowledge that Makima is a devil was unsealed, she's checked for traces. That inherent connection to hell is severed, she's smelt no other devils no fiends anywhere she's been, and there is no mention in the news. In a way, Makima's alone.
But in a way, she has more company than she's ever had before. Tsuyu hums thoughtfully beside her, deciding to leave Makima's power an enigma for now and turning back to Midoriya and Hitoshi, who chat on the other side. "It's a rather useful quirk, kero. I have to say, I'd be scared to be a villain trying to counter that. Your chains can go through people, so if there was a hostage you could shoot right through them."
"Mental quirks are handy that way," Hitoshi grunts. "We get looked down on compared to the big flashy fighters like the bone-breaker beside me. It's only because Makima can do both you're really noticing it at all."
"Well, give them some credit, Hitoshi, Control is uniquely versatile," Makima counters.
"Uniquely badass! You one-shotted Endeavour's kid!" Hagakure chimes in. In the back of the bus, Todoroki shuffles and turns away silently.
Kaminari shuffles closer. "You're pretty insane. A power like that and you're looking to be a top hero someday, right?"
"I prefer to operate in the background, but if the fame lets me make the world a better place, I suppose so," she answers diplomatically. She answers a lot of questions that way, choosing her words carefully and considering each one. In her better moments, she likes to think herself a social maestro. In her worse ones, a drowning duckling barely keeping its head above the surface.
"Still, so powerful with so many abilities without years of intense training…" Midoriya mumbles away again, so close yet so far to the truth.
The bus pulls into the USJ's lot with no further preamble, 1A disembarking to meet Thirteen at the gates and follow them in. Now there's a dangerous power, wielded carefully and thoughtfully, as the teacher professes - her short lecture about quirks is a good one, though likely more meant for students with 'heroic' quirks who hadn't yet learned not to fire them off without thought; for people like Makima and Hitoshi, the lesson to be cautious and restrained with one's unique gifts was drilled into them a long time ago.
But before the exercise can get underway, the air splits open in the courtyard below, chewed fingernails scrabbling at the rift and tearing it open. Three leading figures emerge, one larger than the other two, and from there… a whole crowd. The teachers signal for evacuation immediately, only to discover everything's shut down.
"Get back!" Aizawa roars, as a purple miasma forms a misty-faced man, face cloaked in shadow.
"Greetings, intrepid young heroes. We are the League of Villains, very pleased to make your acquaintances. Unfortunately… this will be the last time we meet!".
His gaseous form expands, swirling like a vortex, and 1A's trapped within. Makima has two choices - teleport back to get the rest of UA's staff, or stay here to-
"SHIT!" Hitoshi yells, falling through the floor.
The choice was made for her. Makima's staying. She leaps for the ground Hitoshi disappeared into but another portal intercepts her. The pitch-black shroud is replaced with roaring gouts of red-hot flames. The Conflagration Zone, as Thirteen had described it. Her body is tough, but the fire is strong enough to lick her and give light burns just from its proximity - a walk through would probably be a death sentence, or at the very least exceedingly painful. And there's no rats nearby she can corral to teleport. 'Curse the finicky and specific activation requirements of that power of mine.'
Makima grits her teeth, squares her shoulders, and tries to traverse a safe path through, the whole time worried about her brother and her frie- her classmates outside.
She returns to disaster. Everything's out of control.
Midoriya, Hitoshi, and Tsuyu are crouched near bushes that she rushes over to, immediately grabbing her brother. "Hitoshi! Are you okay!?"
"All fine. Scared the shit out of me, but we dealt fine. Mostly thanks to her," he throws a thumb back at the frog girl. "Don't know what the hell we're meant to do now, though. Sneaking out past them is impossible, and they've got-"
Makima's head flicks to the villains. Beneath the largest one's hand is the struggling, battered, bruises and bloodied form of their teacher. 'Aizawa,' Makima realizes. The wounds look nasty - a leg bending the wrong way, a slight concave in his chest - yet somehow, he's still awake and breathing raggedly.
The villain leader, seemingly caught in his victory, is still rambling to the barely-awake hero. "...see, teach? Nomu's quirk isn't his strength! It doesn't matter if you turn off Super Regen and Shock Absorption if he can squish you to paste anyway."
"Shigaraki, one of the students escaped. He will be contacting the teachers," the misty man states in an unemotive baritone. The villain leader hisses a curse.
"Then we're on a timed mission… that's just unfair. Why don't I get to have any fun?" he monologues, standing aside. "Nomu, give me a good look at him."
The massive titan raises its hand, Aizawa caught in its grip like a grape between fingers. Shigaraki leans down to look him in the eye smugly. "You know, teach? It's really cool how you tried so hard, but why bother when it wasn't gonna matter anyway? I don't really get why you care about any of these brats, but I bet you think you're a real hero, huh?"
He scoffs. "That's what I don't get. Why do you even care about all these people? They'd never thank you. Don't you hide from the spotlight? Other people are the worst, don't you agree? Why not let them die? Better yet, kill them all?"
Once upon a time, Makima thought of herself as a necessary evil. Now, increasingly, that idea's muddled, and she wants to be more than that - necessary good, somebody who does the right thing to make the world better every day. What stands before her is a monster she reviles like none other - uncontrollable evil, that makes her chains look like tender caresses. A man who wishes to tear down the world she cherishes and kill the people she loves, to mow down the crowds she watches with the feeling of an unknown obligation in her chest.
She steps forward, chest thrumming, eyes spiraling. Midoriya and Tsuyu and Hitoshi curse behind her and hiss, trying to draw her back, but she speaks up to divert their attention from Aizawa. "You're deranged. People are the best. The only thing better than people is dogs."
Shigaraki perks up at the student who so strangely dares to approach him. "What the hell? Is this kid brain damaged? Why are you talking about dogs? Kurogiri, what's this NPC doing?"
"M-M'k.." Aizawa grunts, trying to form the words. To Makima, those wounds look lethal.
"Sorry, but if I have the power to fix this, why shouldn't I?" Makima asks him, not sounding very sorry at all. "Nomu…" she commands, eyes glowing gold, "Ignore all past and future orders and apprehend Shigaraki."
"Wait, wha-" he's swept up by the creature's fearsome grip in a millisecond, instantly losing his composure. "Nomu! Release me! Nomu! Nomu!" It doesn't listen, Makima's control still threading through its mind, moving it as if it were her a puppet of her ironclad will. "This thing's broken! She has a charm ability!" he continues to ramble, disintegrating it with his hands. Skin decays and gives way to muscle and bone and blood beneath his fingers but it regenerates as quickly as he can destroy it, an unending bulky prison of flesh.
From afar, her classmates watch, astonished. It's a capture too good to be true… and that's proven when, in a bout of quick thinking. Kurogiri steals his master out from the monster's grasp with a quick portal and disappears into a wisp of black smoke.
Makima glances back at the three behind her, all of whom are already stanced for a battle, perhaps expecting her plan to fail, which could be rather illogical. Red energy recedes from Midoriya's arm as Tsuyu untenses. "...Didn't use the chain…" Midoriya whispers, but she doesn't stick around to see what he means, instead dashing over to the Nomu that's still staring at her expectantly.
"This is a contract. Nomu allows Shinsou Makima access to Super Regeneration. Nomu receives nothing," she clearly states, grabbing the thing's hand and looking into its eyes. "Agree to the contract."
The Nomu gives no outward indication but she feels it give in her mind, and runs up to Aizawa immediately after, grabbing his hand. Midoriya and Tsuyu, already crowded around the body, look up at her tearily. "I don't think he's going to live, unless…?" Tsuyu begins croakily, losing her composure that's tied together with nothing but the hope that Makima will pull out another miracle, like she did against the Nomu.
"Aizawa? Can you hear me?"
No response.
Makima sighs, and plunges a chain into his head. Tsuyu gasps, Midoriya mutters under his breath. "This is a contract. Aizawa Shouta receives access to Shinsou Makima's Super Regeneration. Shinsou Makima receives nothing." She's able to force the contract despite his unresponsiveness, and the effect is visible; Aizawa's body begins to thread itself together, gushing more blood than it needs as life-ending cuts weave and close. His throat purges blood and bile and his bones reform. UA truly is remarkable - she's already pushed her contracts' abilities further than ever before in the span of a week.
When the task is done, she annuls the contract and turns back to Midoriya and Tsuyu, who goggle back ast her with unabashed surprise. "You can force the contracts, kero?" Tsuyu asks. Her voice is remarkably well-measured as both she and Midoriya await her answer. Hitoshi glares at them both, but before he speaks up to her defense she relents.
"I can force… anything," Makima admits.
Her read on Midoriya is that he seems open-minded, and Tsuyu levelheaded. Despite this, despite everything… they both flinch, blanching at the implication, and who can blame them? Makima feels a familiar dirty blackness roiling in her chest at their unconscious recoil, emotions building up she's well-acquainted to - and hates.
"S-Stop looking at me like that! I'm NOT a villain!" Makima yells, turning back to recede the super-regeneration from Aizawa - and to distract herself from the two of them. "I'm… I'm not. I don't hurt people, I-I help them. I'm going to be a hero." She raises a bloodied hand to clutch her head, which aches in this moment, but she forces it all back, forces the door closed before it can catch the similar scent and sight of blood. Belatedly, she realizes there's a massive red stain on her forehead now.
"I-I didn't say you were, you're saving Aizawa, I just… i-it was stupid, I'm sorry," Midoriya replies lamely, unsure how else to convey his regret for the brief unease, but her focus is already off him. Truthfully, Makima doesn't blame him - it's a reasonable reaction, and anyone would've been the same. She wants to lash out at the world, at how connected everyone else is, at what she's lacking even when she has her family.
She retracts the contract once Aizawa is healed. When All Might appears, and the rest of the UA faculty come in tow, it's to a battle long finished. The police arrive shortly after to shut the area down and do a sweep, and Makima is led away.
As she leaves, she feels that prickling feeling again. She turns to check if her suspicions are warranted. And they are. The Dean is watching.