In the aftermath, Makima sticks close to Hitoshi. He's the one she can be sure will stick by her side, is inured to her powers and her presence, where other students may balk at the show of force. At least, Midoriya and Tsuyu might. But huddled together in the common room, too uncomfortable with the idea of hiding away from their other classmates, 1-A is packed pretty closely together. The two aren't far away.
Nobody else had seen what she pulled off or heard what she told them. And, from her trusty little sets of eyes and ears that are more loyal to her than they are to Koda, the two students who she was forced to reveal the full extent of her powers to haven't spread the word around.
Most are quiet, mumbling to each other, or just sitting numb or despondent as the adrenaline crash of the USJ incident subsides. Some are absent, being interviewed for their accounts by the police. In time, Makima will be called in, and there's really no lying her way out of it without mesmerizing the police officers into accepting a flawed testimony, but between cross-referencing and the Dean's cameras, that's a foolish gambit that would ruin everything. Despite the police ostensibly being on her side, it feels more like a warrant is out for her arrest.
Iida makes the rounds with none of his usual energy, simply fulfilling a role. Koda huddles close to his animals, and some classmates huddle around the stronger personalities of Mina or Bakugou. The latter, when she looks at him, invokes a ghost sense of guilt. She's not quite sure why.
Soon, Yaoyorozu and Hagakure close in, and despite the circumstances Yayoyorozu's wearing a shaky smile. The mystery of how Hagakure feels is answered by the lilt of her voice - exhausted, but hanging onto a fleeting glimmer of positivity. "Makima! I'm so glad you're okay!" she cries, slamming into her and holding on tight. Though more formal, Yaoyorozu is no less relieved.
"They finally finished taking our statements. I imagine my family's chauffeur will be over soon enough to pick me up. How is your family?"
"Mom and Dad will be a bit but they're driving over right now," Makima answers. "I am glad to see you two are relatively unharmed as well. I didn't get a chance to see, where were you two?"
"The mountain zone," says Yaoyorozu. "As for Hagakure, I believe she was in the Landslide zone?"
"Yeah, it was rough. At least I could hide! I heard you got up close with the strongest villain! I'm surprised you're not hurt at all!"
Makima freezes. "I… my quirk is uniquely suitable to controlling something as mindless as it. It was already optimized for taking orders. With foresight I could have snatched the villains' leader and ended their operations there, but in the moment I misstepped," she explains, eyes on the ground. "I was also able to leverage my abilities to heal Aizawa, which was more prudent. I… really hated seeing him almost dead on the ground. So I healed him."
Healed him how is the operative part, but there's no need to scare the two, so she abstains, ignoring the knowing and apologetic stares of Midoriya and Tsuyu in her peripheral vision.
"So you literally saved his life. You're kind of a hero already," Hagakure comments.
"I just wanted nobody to get hurt," Makima responds placidly. "And as long as those measures didn't make the world a worse one… why not?"
"An admirable philosophy. I admit that sort of discussion eludes me right now," Yaoyorozu confesses, discomfort on her face. "I don't really want to think of anything at all."
"Same. I kind of just wanna… crash," Hagakure's shirt's collar bobs in agreement. "Binge some old romance shows and eat ice cream… anything to get my mind off of all this."
"I enjoy watching films myself. If I have the time after my parents are done consoling the two of us I imagine I'd like to watch some. I've fallen behind in my backlog to catch up on studies." Makima turns to Hagakure. "Perhaps you'd like to watch a film together sometime? I like having people around to bounce my thoughts off of."
"That sounds a-ma-zing," Hagakure chuckles. "And call me Toru! I mean… it's kinda silly to be so formal after all we've been through, right?"
"...Right. My apologies, Toru," Makima replies, a pleased smile on her face that's only 99% formal now.
"And… And I as well. I would like to go by Momo, to you two," Momo adds, a hand on her chest in a hesitant fashion, as if she would somehow be rejected by the two. "I admit I… am unused to social situations and friendship, but I would like to try being friends with you all."
Toru brightens up further. "A friend sounds perfect right now!"
"I second that. Pleased to be friends, Momo," Makima smiles, eyes closed. It's a sincere beam from her, even if she has to force it a little through her composure. It's so very odd how one's positive emotions take coaxing to be on display, yet one's negative emotions flow out freely, but that is simply life. Makima takes it in stride.
"Midoriya Izuku, Asui Tsuyu, Shinsou Hitoshi, Shinsou Makima,' a policeman calls. "We would like to receive your statements now, if you're willing?"
"Psst," Hitoshi whispers to Makima, alerting her. "What should I say?"
"What do you mean 'what should you say'?"
"Like, since you're hiding your… y'know," he gestures at all of her.
"You just gestured to all of me. And… there's no point in lying or refusing to give testimony," Makima sighs, a mote of frustration on her otherwise professionally neutral face. "We face this head on. Whatever comes after… I will deal with."
He raises an eyebrow. "You sure?"
"Less sure than I've ever been," she confesses, standing up. "Perhaps that's a good sign."
Makima's testimony is honestly given, even if she leaves out the important context of being a devil. So is Hitoshi's, and everyone else's. When Mom and Dad show up they are, understandably, in hysterics.
Makima makes good on her promise to herself to binge-watch films, and is surprised by an invitation from Tsu and Midoriya - Hitoshi, Toru, and Momo are invited as well. It's an attempt to break bread after their shock in the USJ, that much is obvious when they give her full control over the remote and don't complain when she chooses a palette of obscure hundred-year-old movies shamelessly. The act might even ingratiate them, seeing their classmate with so much power be so otherwise petty. Tyrannical, in a small and safe way.
Makima doesn't hold their earlier fear against them. They're kind, and it's understandable. What matters is the effort they put in after the fact. The movie night goes well, and sleeping with Hitoshi on one side and Toru on the other, surrounded by friends as the put the harrowing events of the week before out of their mind, they find themselves at ease.
Alas, schooling must go on. The Sports Festival is announced for a month upcoming, hero classes cool down into basic drilling with the promise to quickly ramp back up into the training they were meant to receive at the USJ once lesson plans are reshuffled, and most classes are as challenging as they always are to her; not very.
The end of the day presents a divergence from the pattern, one that immediately puts Makima's hairs on edge. "Shinsou Makima, please report to the Dean's office." the PA system calls, and she stops in her tracks.
"What's that about?" Toru wonders aloud.
Makima shrugs to shuck the cold sweat off her back. "I'm not sure. Don't wait for me."
"Really? What if it's about… y'know," Hitoshi worries. Momo tilts her head in curiosity at the implication, but the proper girl doesn't pry.
"I will deal with it myself," Makima assures him, and walks off, keeping her posture confident and her arms folded demurely in front of herself as is habit, presenting the perfect, professional, innocent visage of the slightly formal UA student she is. It never hurts to exaggerate a half-truth.
She strides in with a reasonable amount of faked confidence, the type that speaks of a nervous student who hadn't done anything wrong yet nonetheless feels apprehension. The doors open before she touches them. Idly, she wonders how good the audio monitoring on the cameras is, and regrets speaking quietly before them in case they are very sensitive.
Across from her sits the Dean at his desk, her senses telling her he's a Chimera of a great many things, not all of them natural, but her most closely resembles a rat. In a semicircle around him is every single combat-capable teacher in UA barring Aizawa and Thirteen, who are still in recovery - Present Mic, Power Loader, Midnight, Cementoss, Snipe, Ectoplasm, Vlad King, and Hound Dog. Beside the Dean is the man himself - All Might, his signature smile on his face.
She briefly awes up at him before turning to Nezu. "Is something the matter?"
"I was hoping you could answer that for us, actually," the Dean replies, like he hasn't surrounded her with a firing squad ambush. "We've noticed a few… discrepancies on your student record. I was hoping you could answer a few questions?"
"Of course," she nods amicably. "But why the crowd?"
"We have some concerns." Both of them are playing a game of feigned nonchalance. "For a start, your quirk is very multivariate. Unusually so. Are you sure it isn't mislabeled?"
"I don't know all too much about it myself. We avoided scrutiny in case we drew attention from the HPSC," she tells him. His ire towards the organization is very easily proven through evidence gathered online, and Makima is a natural at arming with useful information. "I admit it is unusual for a quirk, but stranger things have happened."
"Strange indeed," Nezu nods. "Stranger still, that when Aizawa's quirk activated and he set his eyes on you, it kept working. Is there a component to your very multivariate quirk that allows it to resist quirk-nullifying power like his?"
"Not to my knowledge. Perhaps it's a manifestation of my total control over my body that I can keep my quirk factor from being deactivated," she postures.
"An interesting theory, but not one that bears out if you understand the science of Erasure's function. No, the chances of that are nil."
Makima curses herself. She can perhaps outwit the man in word games, but not when it comes to knowledge she has no way of obtaining.
"You must understand how anomalous you are, Shinsou. Additionally, we have no record of your birth. I've done the research."
"I'm entitled to my privacy."
"And I, my curiosity."
Makima bristles. "Not legally. And the orphanage was sloppy. They must've fumbled my paperwork."
"Shinsou, Shinsou…" the Dean tuts. "This is not a question of legality. Your lack of comprehensible origin, lack of proper quirk registration, the unusual amount of power you carry… for the interest of all of society, I must ask you to allow us to make sure you aren't… a danger."
In other words, trumped-up fears that will lead to her discovery as a devil. Something flashes in All Might's eyes. With an innocuous motion of his hand, one she nearly misses, the Dean orders everyone on guard, and the heroes in the room tense.
"I refuse."
Cement entombs her legs, pins her arms to her sides, and covers her eyes. "Be careful, wer have no idea what other abilities she may-"
"FREEZE."
Every teacher in the room stops dead in their tracks. Their minds are hers, their consciousnesses sleeping and their wills entirely subsumed, to do with as she pleases. It's as simple as that. With a flex of her mental muscle they stand down. Peeping through the clothed rat's eyes she takes stock of the room.
Scratch that - all but one is under her control. All Might remains standing, his bafflement quickly smothered by a sense of duty as he grabs her body.
"I wouldn't do that if I were you," Makima says through Nezu.
"Dean Nezu? What's-"
"No, Makima. I'm talking through the Dean," she clarifies.
"What did you do!?" All Might demands, furious.
"I took control. But I can't control you. It's odd, but… you're All Might," she hums. "I have the faculty under my control right now. I wager you could end me with a punch. Shall we negotiate?"
All Might hesitates. "Does the name 'All for One' mean anything to you?"
The puppet of Nezu tilts his head. "I… what? I've never heard it in my life."
All Might stares at her, deliberating. His eyes are clever and cunning, despite his oafishness when it comes to teaching, and he seems to think long and hard before relaxing slightly, pulling a step back from imminent obliteration of her stomach, but his fist stays cocked by his side as a weapon. "Why do you have multiple quirks? Don't lie to me, there's no other explanation for the power you have. I believe you're connected to a very dangerous villain."
"All I want is to be a hero. I was born like this."
"You're not telling me something," he frowns. "I require total honesty, Young Shinsou."
"I'd rather not say," Makima meanders. If rodents could sweat she'd be doing so through the Dean's body, forcing calm into her voice. "I like my life. I wouldn't want it to be upturned. I'm willing to take drastic measures to keep myself and my family free of the consequences carelessly telling a man so powerful may bring."
Again, All Might pauses. He seems to like his long pauses, as he studies her over again, before sighing - it's a gravely, rumbling sound, with a trace of copper tinting it. "I'm adept at keeping secrets."
"What are you saying?" she asks, raising a brow.
"Tell me your secret. Perhaps I can help you with it. In exchange… I can ensure it's kept safely, and nobody else has to know."
"You're bluffing. That goes against your duty as a hero"
"It is my utmost duty as a hero."
"You're meant to keep people safe."
"I'm keeping you safe."
Now Makima takes her time tp pause. She almost raises her hand to enforce a binding contract, before she thinks the better of it and drops it. Contracts aren't good shows of trustworthiness. "Only because it's you, All Might," she grumbles. "You will know, but the rest will forget."
He nods. Makima breathes in deeply.
"Have you heard of Devils?"
Two hours later, Makima leaves the office. Every teacher bar the one in the know leaves with the following order in their heads: "You will forget what Makima has said in this room. You will forget your desire to inquire into Makima's origins or powers. You will accept them as normal. You will not inquire into your own lack of curiosity. You will never consider the possibility of mental manipulation. You will not remember this order, or being controlled at all, nor any time discrepancies, and will dismiss any evidence of them without question or introspection."
Only Hitoshi waits, anxiety written across his face. "You were in there for two hours, what the hell happened? I made the others leave in case it was about the- but it wasn't, right?
"It was. The Teachers surrounded me and asked for answers I couldn't give. They gave me no choice. But I made them forget. Nobody was hurt, and they won't look again," Makima tells him. "We're safe!" It's meant to be reassuring.
A look crosses Hitoshi's face. It's one thing to know your sister is power. That she can overpower anyone theoretically. That she isn't even human. It's another entirely to see her overpower an entire room of heroes so completely that they don't even remember the ordeal, that their consciousnesses are such feeble putty for her hands to wrap that they can't even defend themselves against future attacks. Suddenly, that strength feels more real than any amount of saved civilians or 2-second brainwashings of fellow classmates or children.
"They… all of them?" his face goes pale, hissing under his breath and checking over his shoulder. "Makima you can't just- I thought-!"
"It was that, or everything ruined for us. I chose the heroic option. Our safety over their curiosity. And, for the record…" her face scrunches up, blushing and looking away, as if tinted by embarrassment. "Not all of them. All Might was there. I couldn't control him."
"Why… I thought you could control anyone…" Hitoshi's voice trails off. "Why not All Might?"
"I can't control you. I have to use your quirk for that," she reminds him. "I can control anyone I feel superior to. It's a confounding requirement but not usually one I have an issue with. I suppose it's hard to see myself as above him, considering…"
"...He's All Might," Hitoshi says with that tone of voice that explains it all yet has no hope of encapsulating the man's presence, his cultural domination, the way he's seen as a towering force of goodness above all else in the world. Makima's earliest memories in this world include an All Might video. All Might exists in movies, TV commercials, cereal boxes… He's omnipresent.
A Devil's powers are based on fear. The more fear control, the stronger Makima will be.
So it's funny that All Might's resistance is because so many adore him, admire him, so much so that it's trickled down to Makima.
"So… what did he say? If you couldn't control him, then he… he knows?"
Makima blinks, a rare sight. "We reached an accord."
"He knows?"
"He does," she answers. "Not everything, but enough." Strangely, her shoulders are laxer than usual, tension ebbing out of them. With Hitoshi's judgement seemingly passed, she can relax.
"Are you… I'm guessing you don't like that, huh? That he knows."
"Actually…" Makima considers. "...it's not the worst feeling."'
Makima chews on a corndog.
"You're gonna flub the sports fest? For real!?" Toru sputters, shaking her by the shoulders.
She keeps chewing the corndog.
"This is like, our once-in-a-lifetime shot! Well, three times in a lifetime, but still! And you're super strong! And tough! You could totally win this!" Toru protests. "Tell her, Momo!"
"I concur. You should display everything you have. You would win handily, I struggle to think of an opponent who could best you."
"I don't need the attention. It wouldn't make me any stronger, either," Makima protests, realizing with a start that she's bitten to the wooden stick, and sucks the last of the residue off of it. "My power is frightening. Controversial. And better kept out of the spotlight."
"But you'd be the best hero on TV, Makima!" Toru uselessly play-bats her on the arm like a weakling. "You're brave and powerful and pretty and kind! You're like, the perfect hero! Everyone would love you if you went up there!"
"I wouldn't go too far. It's true some may fear you," Momo argues. "But then, wouldn't it be better for you to stand on the podium and prove their fears wrong? That your power isn't something to be afraid of, but to be admired?"
"I think…" she pauses, contemplating, a finger on her lips as it wipes off a crumb. "I want…"
"To prove them wrong and show the world your power?" Toru asks hopefully.
"...another corndog." Standing up, she shimmies past the bleachers of her fellow classmates. Throngs of cheering students surround them from the various first-year classes, a camera crew in the box below them recording all the action as Aoyama firstfights Hitoshi. Through past 1-B, past a girl with black hair in a flatbob cut who looks like Uraraka and a girl with brown hair in a round bob cut that also looks like Uraraka.
"Makima, wait!"
"Don't these girls both look like Uraraka?" she asks.
Toru pauses. "Huh, guess they do. Anyway, that's not important! Why don't you want to stand out? I don't get you. You're the class prez, and you win every fight, but you don't act like… y'know, like a hero student? Omigosh, that sounds bad, but you know what I mean, right?"
"I want to live a normal life," Makima shrugs. "And I'd like to make the world the best place I can make it. The attention my quirk could generate serves neither cause. People have already made up their minds. Some people fear control, they don't want to be dominated by others, yearn for freedom to live and do as they see fit. Others love it, crave it, relish it, relish the power to force others to act as they please, to impart their will upon the world."
Her hands drop to her sides, tracing the lines that spell 'UA' on her sports jacket. "I had enough fun running in the race and competing in the cavalry battle. But other eyes will be on me if I compete here."
"...I don't know how that feels, I guess… nobody's ever paid attention to me." Toru hunches over. "...But I think it's still pretty neat."
"The attention?"
"Control," she answers, collar perking up. "Whenever you're around I know everything will be fine. Everything's under control. You won't let anything bad happen. I mean, you made friends with me. Couldn't you show that to the world?"
"...I wasn't aware there was anything to show," Makima admits, sitting back down on an empty seat in the student box, patting the one beside her. Toru unfolds it and sits beside.
"...What kind of bad eyes will be on you?"
"The Japanese government. The HPSC. The League of Villains. The world," Makima replies. "They will see my power and they will want to make use of it for their own purposes.
"Oh, wow…" Toru trails off. "Thinking big?"
"I have to."
They sit side-by-side, watching Aoyama walk out of the box, before snapping to attention and realizing he's lost. His first instinct is to turn his head to the camera box. Makima feels a shift of movement as Toru turns to face her again.
"...Midoriya wrote in his notebook how your quirk and your contracts work," Toru sits up straight, a hand on her chest. The other one picks up Makima's and lifts it, holding it steady. "So this is a contract, 'kay? If you ever get hurt enough to die, some of my blood will leave my body and fill you up. Enough to save you without killing me, since you don't want that either. That way, you don't have to ever worry about them getting you!"
Her collar tilts sideways. Makima stares at her hand. "...Nobody's proposed a contract to me before. It's always the other way around."
"Well, I trust you," Toru smiles. Makima can't see it, but she can feel it. "So, wanna go win the festival?"
Something akin to tears wells up behind Makima's eyes. "You're a wonderful friend, Toru. If it's for you, I suppose I can do my best."
"Yes! That's awesome!! I'll be cheering for you the whole time!" Toru squeals, latching onto her.
Makima smiles in turn. "By the way, I have a fun idea."
Makima's first match is against some boy from 1-B. A chain goes in his head. That's the end of that. "Testutetsu Testsutetsu is out of bounds!" Midnight announces. Makima waves back up to the bleachers at Toru, Momo, and Hitoshi. Glancing up at the brackets, her portrait moves up a place. "Shinsou Makima! Quirk: Brain Chain! She can control people with just a single chain, among other things! She's got plenty of tricks up her sleeve!" Present Mic announces.
Makima frowns. More unneeded attention. She returns her gaze to her compatriots instead.
The next couple of matches are uninteresting to her, so she occupies her time chatting with her friends and finally getting that second corndog. Midoriya's fight with Todoroki, which starts the second round, is massive and flashy, and the shockwave ruffles her hair and sends Momo reeling. "My word…" Momo gasps, watching as the teachers clean up the aftermath. "Honestly, it's hard to believe Midoriya won that."
"Indeed. Todoroki practically threw the match. He seemed aggrieved, but what could… ah," Makima mutters, seeing the scion throw a glare at his father from bird's-eye view. Both of them head towards the exits. "Unresolved familial issues, then." Her mind catalogues it as potentially important information. "Midoriya looks unhappy… but that's not my business. I have to prepare for my next match."
Giving the two her goodbyes, she marches out of the bleachers and down to the locker room before her next match, and her most anticipated one. Down the halls, she ruminates on Midoriya's strange situation.
She bumps into a skinny, skeletal man with long blonde locks along the way. "Oh, sorry! I was wandering about," he says politely.
"All Might, who else knows your secret?"
"E-Eh?" he coughs out some blood. 'Yummy', Makima's mind supplies, but she doesn't voice it. "I have no idea what you… ahh, forget it. How'd you figure it out?"
"I try to keep on top of things," she answers. "So who else knows your secret? You're the only person I know of apart from myself who can transfer a quirk. I was confused at what I saw on Midoriya, but there's a part of your being in his quirk. They're identical, except his is growing and yours is shrinking."
"You're too astute for your own good sometimes, Young Shinsou," All Might chuckles. "Few know my secret. A few close colleagues, that is all. Why? Are you wondering who to tell?"
She nods. "My friends. My classmates. They accept me. I'd be more at peace if it was all of me."
"Why ask for the advice of an old man like me?"
"You seemed like the right person to ask," Makima responds.
"Hmm…" All Might hums thoughtfully, a low baritone. "You don't know most of your classmates that well, do you? Some of them, but others are barely acquaintances. You've told your closest family, but nobody more. I'd say… you'll only be that comfortable showing people that distant all of you when you're comfortable with all of you as well."
"...So you're saying I'm not?"
All Might tilts his head. "Are you?"
"...No."
"...that was pretty good advice, old man," Makima concedes. "But you haven't shown everyone all of you either."
"...Why do you think?" he chuckles. "The ugly truth is unpalatable to the public. This form… it tells people everything is alright That everything's under control. The world won't collapse as long as I am here."
"I see," she muses. "This has been a good talk, but I have to leave for my match. Good luck to you both."
"And you, as well," he smiles. Makima turns to leave.
"One more thing." All Might raises a finger. Makima halts.
"Yes?"
"If you were to use your… devil ability on a foe who is equal to me… would they succumb?"
"A foe equal to All Might? I cannot imagine such a thing," she answers, perplexed.
"Humour me for a moment. Would you win?"
"Against somebody equal to you? No, I wouldn't," she answers. "But you already know how my power works. Why ask?"
All Might smiles cryptically, turning to walk away. "You seemed like the right person to ask. Now I must be off, too. The Dean told me the number two hero is harassing his poor son, so it's up to me to harass him too."
Both part with a clouded mind. All Might, into the halls. Makima into the open air, light shining down upon her face. Second match: Shinsou Makima vs. Shinsou Hitoshi.
"BEGIN!"
It's Makima versus one of the four people she can't control in this world. Baring her knuckles, she drops down. Neither speaks a word, aware that in both their throats lies Hitoshi's throat. Her power imbues his body, putting them on a roughly equal playing field in a fair fight.
It's a good thing Makima has a trick up her sleeve. She shimmers out of existence.
Hitoshi hisses through his teeth. "Hagakure!"
'Right you are, brother,' she doesn't say, rushing forwards. 'I love you, but you're simply outmatched. I would have let you win if I didn't know how much it would annoy you, but I properly want victory now. I'll buy you a cake or something afterwards.'
Tightly-controlled fists duck under his aimless swings. Makima barely breathes and barely blinks. Though she appears human and is close to it, she isn't - pithy human foibles don't occur to her when she's attacking like this. A perfect hook in the chin, a perfect jump over the kick… Hitoshi can't aim at what he can't see. 'Hagakure, your quirk is formidable against someone with equal strength. I'll lend you my strength later so you can stand up against stronger enemies,' she decides.
THUMP!
Hitoshi's back collides with the ground. "IN THE BATTLE OF SHINSOUS, MAKIMA WINS!!!" Present Mic hollers.
Makima turns back and looks up into the bleachers, ignoring her brother's half-serious sulking. He'll get over it. Momo waves back, cheering aloud, and Toru is beaming at her.
Her third match is another easy one. Bakuogu is powerful, she can admit, but the only possible way for him to win that is for her to see him as an equal, or as greater than her, and the man's so petty and aggravating she couldn't even if she forced herself. She's almost at the top, and the bronze is already hers.
'The next match should be easy enough. Who am I against?' she wonders, looking up at the screen.
Midoriya huffs and puffs, cradling his broken arm.
Makima stares at him from outside the ring, largely unscathed but still carried out by the power of the shockwave. "MIDORIYA WINS!" screams Present Mic.
'A second presence within his mind… if I want to win exercises against him in the future, I'll have to control it too,' she chides herself, standing up and moving to the centre to offer him a hand. "That was an enjoyable match. Good job," she congratulates him. "I suppose I'll have to content myself with second place."
"T-Thanks, but it was mostly my quirk acting up to help me. Without it, who knows?"
"I used my quirk to win as well," she responds. "I hadn't even planned on coming this far. I just did it to show a friend."
"I-I get that…" he awkwardly rubs a hand against the back of his head, staring back up at an empty chair in the bleachers. Todoroki's seat, if she recalls. "I did it to… prove a point, I guess."
"You believe Todoroki will be happier if he accepts the totality of his quirk?" she asks. Midoriya looks taken off-guard; justified, considering she had no earthly way of knowing what she just said to him. He recovers quickly, to his credit.
"...I do."
"Somebody once told me ignorance is bliss. That the secre to living a happy life is ignoring things that are unpleasant."
"...I don't really agree. Who told you that?"
Makima pauses. "...I'm not entirely sure, myself. And I'm not sure if I agree either."
Midoriya considers it, staring back up at the masses of screaming bleachers. The people cheering for both of them, number one and number two. "...I don't think I'm gonna live as long as a hero as I would've if I stayed a civilian," he admits. "But I'm happier chasing my dream. It led me to have to confront some… unpleasant truths, sure, but…" he stares down, his fist briefly sparking with the power of his quirk. "...I'd never be a hero like All Might who's able to save absolutely everybody if I didn't."
"...I see."
"What's your dream?" he asks, a smile on his face despite his broken arm.
To live among equals. To be the best.
To save the world. To live a normal life.
To be loved. To be feared.
To watch good movies. To watch bad movies.
To know.
To never know.
"...I'm not sure."
"That's her, Sensei! The girl with the cheat codes!"
"Interesting..." Behind the screen, a man strokes his chin. "What a fascinating quirk..."
Nori and Masato, of course, end up drowning her in tears. Hitoshi made it to the second round, and she to the final round and second place! It's cause for celebration, hugs and laughter abound, and of course lots of delicious sweet treats picked up from the local patisserie.
Returning to UA the week after, there's a brief period of time she's a sort of celebrity along with the other sports festival high-scorers. Internships are announced. Few heroes have a quirk that works on the mind as hers does - even Hitoshi's shares little similarity, and he's her brother. Adopted, but still. She ends up accepting one from a hero called Odd-Eye, and the whole week is rather uneventful, save for a ping on her phone from Midoriya reporting his location, half a Japan away.
When she returns, it's to news that the League attacked a city, Midoriya defeated a 'hero killer', and Todoroki is the latest inductee into his group of friends. He and Hitoshi have a similar deadpan sensibility, and hit it off. She's happy for him. In the class exercises that follow, he uses his fire - tentatively, but he does. She's happy Midoriya worked that out too.
UA is fun, she decides. When they aren't accosted by villain attacks the term flies by, and she can spend it with her small group of friends, Toru and Momo. The fights she usually wins, deliberately hampering herself with Aizawa's permission since she can win with a thought so that she can learn how to function on a more limited skillset, or with no 'quirk' at all save her devil's strength. What sticks out in her memory isn't these. No, it's the shared lunchtimes, notes slipped past, sitting on the stairwell and chatting at the end of the day as the sun sets on them all.
Their end of semester exams come. Their end of semester exams go. Makima finds herself sitting on the couch watching a movie in the dark with the rest of the class. As class president, she'd commandeered the television and put on a movie of her choosing, everyone else probably humouring her. On screen, a shark-headed man kicks his enemies into gorey puddles.
"This movie fucking sucks. The choreography's dogshit. The acting is wooden. My mom could make better costumes," Bakugou rattles off, an ice pack still taped to his head. The rest of the class snickers at his harsh judgement.
"He's not wrong. It's… kinda a stinker. I thought you'd have a better taste in movies," Kaminari comments, shoving popcorn into his mouth. "Like… this is really your thing, prez?"
"No, it's terrible," Makima concedes, a smile on her face.
"So you like bad movies?"
"I like movies," she answers.
"Don't listen to them, your taste in movies is great!" Toru giggles, a hand on her shoulder.
Makima stills. "Really?"
"Pfft! No!" Toru guffaws, doubling over in laughter, her head springing up from where it's leant on her shoulder. "You always seem so perfect but I guess even you have blind spots!"
"Mm," Makima nods, remembering the black spots she'd seen in her vision after All Might sucker-punched her halfway across the examination zone. She was paired with Midoriya and Bakugou. The test: one of teamwork.
To put it frankly, it was a mess. Bakugou and Midoriya bickered, both hung up on something. When the blonde got violent Makima saw fit to chain him and order him to cooperate, but that didn't last very long. Without the ability to control All Might, and with Midoriya disagreeing with that tactic, they'd been thrown into total disarray. At the end, it had all worked out, but they were being graded individually. In a test of teamwork, she'd likely failed.
"Everybody has their pitfalls," Momo titters behind her palm. "We still trust your judgement in nearly all case, Class President."
Makima's not bothered by the teasing. It's all in good fun - to be honest, it warms her heart and makes her feel like part of the class.
No, what bothers her is the black hole in her head.
The dread ringing in her heart.
The feeling of Toru leaning her head on her shoulder.
"Miss Makima?"
She shifts to the side, feeling the invisible girl lift her head up in confusion.
The bile in her throat subsides.
"A lot of… difficult things have happened. And you've overcome so much. Denji, you're such a good boy."
Denji sits on the couch beside her. He sits, because she tells him to sit. Like a dog. Her dog.
"You've helped me so much too… do you remember our promise? I'll grant you any wish."
Hayakawa was easy to dispose of. The Blood Fiend will be even easier. She's going to be on her way soon, cake in hand. With that, the last puzzle piece will be torn out of Denji's heart.
Makima would never promise any wish unless she already knew what Denji would ask for. Every moment carefully tailored, every date keeping him wanting, every touch fanning the flames of the starvation he feels, never sating it. Months of careful grooming have made him her prized dog.
"What is your request?"
Denji opens his mouth, eyes vacant, as he mulls it over for a long moment. That's fine. She has all the time in the world, now.
He thinks it's love. He's so, so gullible. Flypaper has no love for the bugs it attracts.
Makima knows she has no heart. It's only fitting that Denji's will soon be in her palm.
Denji slowly looks around at the cake, the dogs, the perfect little paradise she's made just for him, a facsimile of a new life.
"Don't open the door, Miss Makima."
What?
"Don't open it."
Why?
"Because if you open it, you will never, ever, ever have the normal life you want."
My… normal life?
"...A life among equals."
Makima flinches awake. The dream recedes slowly into the bac of her mind as she wipes down her cold sweat and catches her breath, looking around the girls' quarters. Arranged in sleeping bags are the seven girls of class 1-A, forming a neat circle on the ground. Uraraka, Jirou, Mina, Tsuyu, Momo…
Toru.
Makima flips onto her other side and looks at Momo instead, trying to force the sickness back down her throat. Out of sight, out of mind. But her dream, unlike every other vague echo so far, does no such thing. It blurs, it hides, but it never fully leaves.
Why can she remember?
She glances back at Toru. The girl is… probably interested in her. Makima's decently sure of it. It must be a schoolgirl crush, and she scours her memory trying to figure out how she unknowingly fostered it. What did she do? Did she accidentally trick the girl?
Looking it at objectively, there shouldn't be anything wrong with the two of them being together. They're both adults. They're close friends. They share interests and hang out and have fun together. Makima's taken Toru to theatres, and Toru has taken Makima shopping.
But nonetheless Makima feels disgusted just thinking about it. Disgusted on behalf of Toru, that she'd fall for such a low trick. No matter what, the idea that Makima is taking advantage of her cannot leave her head. There's no way to force it out.
She surveys the other girls. Nobody is awake. Quietly, she slips a chain into Momo's head and gives her a subconscious order to pop a sleeping pill from her palm, which Makima downs. She needs the help.
She wakes up groggy and lethargic the next morning. Toru, by contrast, is full of pep as always. "Ahhh, another wonderful morning!" she chirps. "Look at the sun!"
"I'm trying not to," Momo mutters, burying her face further into her pillow. "Make it go away."
If the 1-A girls were to be divided to morning people, only Tsuyu and Toru would qualify today. Normally, Makima would too, but she's remarkably less enthusiastic.
"Are you okay, Makima? Bad sleep?" Uraraka asks.
"I'm fine. Perhaps I lay on the wrong side," Makima answers, standing up and trying to banish the tiredness. There's no room for that right now. Why?
Over the summer break, the entirely of Class 1-A (and their sister class, 1-B) have been sent to a lodge in the woods to train up their quirks and boost their power, with every day culminating in a fun activity for thirty-nine thoroughly wrung-out students and one devil who feigns the feeling so suspicion doesn't arise.
As per usual, the Pussycats soon ring the breakfast bell, and everyone slinks out of their cabins, mentally preparing themselves for another day of brutalization. If Makima recalls, yesterday ended with a full-body cramp for Momo, a horribly calloused tongue for Tsuyu, a bucket with more sick in it than Uraraka had fluids in her body for the aforementioned girl, full-body rash all over Mina, and a Toru so mentally exhausted she'd practically collapsed onto Makima and gone catatonic, demanding the devil just order her around so she didn't have to think.
Makima… didn't like it. She foisted the responsibility onto Momo instead.
Aizawa reads off his list to the class with his usual enthusiasm; very little. "Midoriya, you're fighting Sato. Both of you are raising your limits. Todoroki, fire and ice. Bakugou, Ashido, destroy his ice. Hagakure, you're with Kuroiro, stealth training. Makima, maximum chains and maximum distance, keep pushing them through everyone around you. Seeing through every pair of eyes, try to find Kuroiro and Hagakure."
Makima nods. It's a logical task. Her current limit is in the hundreds, but it never hurts to brush up a little and stretch those chains as far as they can go; a skill she actually hasn't trained as prodigiously as Aizawa wants her to.
The fact is, training her abilities to control with her classmates is good fun. Being able to send out golden chains and make her voice ring with unbridled authority as she makes a contract and everything else that comes with the package and do it in plain sight is liberating. Her power is strong, sure, and it comes with baggage, but 1-A is accustomed to it. What might elicit fear instead elicits a groan whenever she's paired against someone, accompanied by a cheering whoop for whoever's on her team that exercise.
That night, the plan is to go on a test of courage. Before that, though, Ragdoll equips them with an industrial sack of marshmallows, forty silver prongs, and a raging campfire (courtesy of Todoroki though she did provided the firewood) and left the forty students to have a little fun.
It's a wonderful night. The woods are painted warm orange hues, smoke and embers roaring into the sky as Kaminari sulks over yet another marshmallow burnt to cinders, Bakugou blowing his own into smithereens with his quirk and subsequently flying into a rage, Komori from 1-B in the corner ignoring the sweets to roast her own mushrooms… just two classes of forty young adults in the best years of their life, chattering away about anything and everything now that the day's work is done. It's an atmosphere that warms one's insides as much as the fire does their skin. Even Makima has a broad, wide smile on her face, just soaking in the companionship and trading childhood anecdotes with the heiress, so rich and sheltered was she that every single one is novel to her.
"...So hitoshi dragged me out of the restaurant and that was that," she finishes. Momo giggles at her tale.
"It's rather refreshing to have a friend with an appetite as large as my own," she adds, stuffing another marshmallow down with a happy smile. "The maids used to look at me funny when I finished a three-course meal at age eight."
Hitoshi tosses a flaming charcoaled one at them which Toru catches with her own pike, making it disappear. "I love them hot!"
Makima's brother gives the three girls a glare. "Just for the record, that's not the full story. We were both dragged out the restaurant because you tricked the damn waitress into giving you a full pint of vodka."
"I wanted to do my trick."
"Your trick?" Momo asks.
Hitoshi nods. "She can slug back literally all the alcohol in the world and it doesn't put a dent in her!"
"It's a side effect of my quirk," she lies. "It's rather fun to do, if only for the reactions it elicits."
"Well, we don't have any booze to test it with. Phooey!" Toru sulks.
All eyes turn to Momo?
"...What?"
They keep staring.
"...No. Absolutely not. It's forbidden!" she crosses her arms. "I am not making moonshine for you. The Pussycats are right there!"
"Right where?" Toru snarks, pointing to Ragdoll, who is conspicuously turned away whistling loudly.
"I'm still not going to do it, and there's nothing, not a single thing you can do to convince me that-"
For Makima, manipulation is sometimes hard. It is sometimes easy. It's rarely that fun and oftentimes simply arduous, but there are times when it's both easy and fun.
"Hey, Jirou? Would you like to see me throw back an entire bottle of vodka?"
"Hell yeah."
And that is the story of how a bottle of Vodka, freshly produced from the Momo brewery, lands in Makima's lap. A shot to Toru, who begs for it and insists she's a heavyweight, and she chugs the rest herself, the entire campfire going silent to watch as she does it.
"Ma-ki-ma! Ma-ki-ma!" Toru and Hitoshi cheer, a reluctant Momo and Midoriya tagging along. Iida, horrified, is dragged into it, and all forty members join in. "MA-KI-MA! MA-KI-MA! MA-KI-MA!"
She slams the empty bottle down onto the patchy grass, wiping her face with her sleeve, and there's a moment of silence before she rears her head back. "No sweat. Another?"
"ANOTHER!"
She slugs back the promised four more and another one for good measure. Toru, meanwhile, deteriorates like a tissue in a washing machine from the single shot she's had, leaning on Makima's shoulder and practically falling over herself. "M-Mahkima… you're sho cool…"
"...Thank you," she replies, unphased by the drink, but phased by the suddenly clingy invisible girl. "...You're rather drunk."
"Am I? Am I acting drunk? I've never been drunk before!" An invisible arm slithers over and around her neck, pulling her in. Makima's eyes dart around, looking for an escape. Momo, however, simply smiles coyly. She won't be of much help, and everyone else's attention has moved on.
"Let me get you some water."
"Okay-dokey!"
At least she's cooperative.
"Makima… you're always helping me~" she whispers. "So conshiderate… makesh a girl feel seen…" Her other hand trails across Makima's chest, arms looped around her and locking her in place, halted from grabbing some water.
"Toru?"
"Why don't you ever look at me like I look at you?"
Makima's heart is racing. Not in the romantic way. In the 'get me out of here right now' way. This can't be happening. It can't be happening. Her head's thumping. It hurts so much.
"Makima…" Toru lets out a breathy sigh. "Sometimesh you're so densh about other people's feelingsh… do I have to shay it~?"
No. No. They're friends. They're- it doesn't have to be like this. They're friends!
"Alright first move: I gotta show off a little for Miss Makima."
"Miss Makima… I trust you."
"Are we competing? First one to kill that guy gets to ask Miss Makima on a date, right?"
"I'm special to you, Miss Makima?"
"In that case, it's pointless for all of you even if you win. Asking out Miss Makima will get you nothing but disappointment."
"Miss Makima… you're so forward!"
"Hmm, you all really like Miss Makima, huh?"
"Miss Makima? I guess… I guess I really like her."
"But of course! How many times has Miss Makima saved our lives?"
"M-M-Miss Makima? I-I love you!"
"Going on a date with a guy would be sooo boring. Isn't that right, Miss Makima?"
"Miss Makima… please…"
"So insolent… Miss Makima, I'll be the one to protect you."
"Miss Makima… why did I fall for her?"
"There's only one girl in ma heart and that's Miss Makima!"
Don't, please don't, please don't, please don't. This isn't what I wanted, all I wanted was-
Denji's face appears in her thoughts. Clear, unobscured.
"A normal life?"
"Can someone like you live a normal life?"
"Does someone like you deserve to live a normal life?"
"M-Makima?"
A hand on Denji's. She pulls it over.
How old is Denji again?
Denji's hand squashes onto her breast, giving him a good feel of the thing. He looks overwhelmed, freezing. A strangled gurgle comes from his mouth.
Internally, she preens. Just one more step towards destroying his life.
"Touching feels better when it's someone you're close with," Makima whispers, being very close with Denji.
Oh, right. He's sixteen.
That's younger than Hitoshi is now.
"Makima… I really like you, y'know…"
Makima recoils, throwing Toru off herself. The invisible girl whips her head up to stare at her, undoubtedly heartbroken, before she lurches over and retches on the ground, a big pile of marshmallowly sludge mixed with dinner's curry that fouls up the air. Makima's not there to smell it, sprinting off with a hand over her own mouth, heart thumping.
Finding a sink, she hunches over it, hidden between cabins. Hitoshi comes soon after. Whatever he says, it's a blur. Everything's too much. The hand on her back stays for some time, rubbing it, indistinct words unheard. Eventually his familiar presence leaves. Another voice joins her.
It's Pixie-bob. "Makima? Are you alright? The test of courage is about to start."
So soon? Makima shakes her head, pulling on her braid. "I feel sick. Do it without me."
"Are you sure? Everyone's worried about you…"
Makima doesn't bother trying to lie about being fine. She doesn't want anyone around her right now. "Just… go."
At her request, the hero chaperone does. For a while, she stays here.
Then everything goes from bad to worse. Smelling smoke, and realizing the campfire was extinguished a while back, Makima snaps back to attention, burying her buzzing thoughts. A distraction is just what her addled mind needs to latch onto, and she runs out into the central field, in front of the cabins. "What's going on?"
"Villain attack," Aizawa grits out. Multiple students stare back at Makima, realizing in the chaos and confusion they'd forgotten to go find her.
"Again?"
"Yes." His eyes flick to her, calculating. They're the eyes of someone who knows they have an asset but don't want to use it. Because she's only eighteen, barely an adult.
Why does she feel as old as he is?
Her birds and rats scan the area, but they drop like flies; the forest is flooded with gas and fire.
"Everyone's in the forest…" she murmurs, shifting into that familiar team-leader role, taking stock of the accumulated talent and power she can put to use in the most efficient combination possible. Shooting out a chain, she subdues the villains who'd apprehended Pixie-Bob, and sends them asleep. A second chain wakes Pixie-Bob up, and with a contract quietly muttered she's briefly lent Makima's healing factor.
"Pixie-bob, put out fires. Aizawa, protect everyone," she orders. "Everyone stay in the clearing. For everyone in the forest…"
She turns to Mandaly, and relays the pussycat a set of instructions. Her projected voice to everyone is thus follows: "This is Makima! Listen up! Everybody in the forest! Form contracts with me, through the rest of tonight. You need not answer vocally, but through a thought. I will know," Makima conveys. "I lend you my vitality, you lend me nothing. This is a contract. Should you be mortally wounded…"
She turns around to face her other teacher. "Vlad King. Your quirk lets you produce blood at an exorbitant rate, yes?"
"Yes," he answers, confused. Heroes have an instinct, any kind of professional does, where they can understand what is senseless bluster and what is confidence earned through competence. And what can he hear but that Makima has the situation under control?
"Then if you see a corpse, feed them blood. If they have no throat, directly through the heart. They will live if their hearts aren't touched," she replies, waiting for her classmates to respond.
She blinks. A second passes, then two.
"...it is done."
She turns to Vlad King again, holding out a hand he takes as she utters another contract. "I lend my sight through lesser beings to Sekijirou Kan in return for nothing. This is a contract."
A flock of birds circles the forest, mice stream in, eyes everywhere. If someone needs blood, Vlad King will handle it. "Nobody will die tonight. That's… a promise."
She turns and heads for the forest determinedly. "Tiger, Vlad King, fan out, bring everyone back." Her voice is laced with iron authority, and their instincts tell them not to question her.
Everything is under control.
"Makima! Don't go in! It's dangerous."
"I-I'll survive," she dismisses her teacher's voice. "Everybody else is in danger. It's my responsibility to save them. I'm a hero, after all."
'P–li- S-fe– S—-al —-sion 4.'
"You're a child!"
Random things are popping into her head now. The name Denji. The name Pochita.
Trying to contend with that splits her head. Her voice stays more composed than her mind.
"Keep watch, Eraserhead. I'm going in."
Her devil's constitution means the gas is ineffective against her. Pixie-Bob overturning the dirt everywhere soon extinguishes the flames.
'You were supposed to bring Hayakawa.'
Makima runs though smoking dirt and lingering sweltering heat, calling for someone, anyone to hear her. In the distance, commotion. She follows, and she finally finds a clearing. Within she runs across Hitoshi, Tsu, and Midoriya, but the other contents are anything but heartening.
Who's that girl with the chain on her head?
Standing over Hitoshi and the rest in the burning clearing is a giant… thing, a biological monstrosity resembling a devil. A Nomu, biting down on some canister and-
A hideously familiar sound cuts her off. Her mind's already buzzing from the night's events, from her life's events. Makima may be nigh-invulnerable but she feels dead, delirious, in terrible danger. Everything's falling apart, her head splits, her tears wet, and a cacophany of indistinct voices call her name, concerned classmates.
Seven huskies howl and bark and dance on her carpet, smothering her with love.
Her knees hit the ground, dry dead leaves crunching beneath them. She feels like she's swimming through water. Why?
It's that sound that cuts through every faculty of her brain. Everything's at a boiling point, everything's coming through, because the sound she hears is the sound every devil hears in hell, the sound all devils remember, a sound she remembers intimately.
"Save me, Chainsaw Man."
She hears the Nomu rev its chainsaws.
It doesn't matter if she's afraid, or doesn't want to confront it. She can't ignore it anymore. That simple sound is the final piece of the puzzle, the last straw on the camel's back, the trigger she needed…
…to open the door.