NeonHorizon: I think this might be my favorite chapter so far. It was insanely fun for me to write. Reviews are welcome and encouraged, as always. Thank you to those that have left reviews _ They really make my day.

Giran was talking, but his attention drifted away from the words and to the fact that Giran had come alone. Shigaraki's eyes narrowed behind "Father" and he could see that there was no sign of Giran's assistant. Shifting his eyes from the shadowy entrance behind the man to the man himself, Shigaraki was quickly losing interest in dealing with him.

When Kugutsu showed up the previous day with food, he had surprisingly enjoyed her company. Not that he was about to admit that to anyone. He could hardly discern that it was enjoyment anyway; he just felt less irritated when she was around. They had eaten together and then played games until she finally had to catch the last train to return to Giran.

His patience was starting to run thin and he started scratching his neck. "Where's the girl?" he finally muttered.

"Sorry, Shigaraki. Kugutsu-chan had to go take care of some business for me." Giran saw the way that he was looking at him and frowned.

"Way to be unprofessional. Is that any way to treat her boss? She could at least have the decency to come when we have a meeting. What's her problem?" he seethed. The villain settled on a seat at the bar and slouched, resting his elbows on the counter. Why do I even care if she's here? She's just as useless as Giran if she can't even bother to be here today.

Kurogiri briefly paid attention to what Shigaraki was doing and turned toward Giran. "Will Kugutsu be done soon?"

At this, the broker began to smirk. "I can call her and ask. I'll even put her on speaker, if you want."

Shigaraki glared down at the countertop from behind "Father", but listened as Giran made the call. She's just a low-level pawn. So why does it matter if she's here or not? This is stupid. I shouldn't care if she's here, but I want her to show up. He chewed on his lower lip, listening to the phone ring.

"Giran-san?" Her voice came through clearly, making Shigaraki turn to look.

The broker pushed up his glasses and looked rather smug. "Hey, Kugutsu-chan. How'd the negotiation go?"

There was a pause, a loud grunt of pain, a splattering sound. A loud, rhythmic thumping could be heard and then a crunching. More splatters could be heard before she spoke once more. "It…didn't go well."

"I can tell. It's fine; don't worry about it. Just finish up there and come to the mah-jongg place. Your crush is wondering where you are."

"…I'm not some lovesick child…" Another pause. "You don't need any survivors, do you?"

"Nah. Knock yourself out, kid. Have some fun; you earned it after giving up your day off yesterday."

What came from the phone next would probably send a shiver down anyone else's spine, but it instead brought Shigaraki puzzlement. The most evil, hysterical giggle could be heard coming from the phone and it was swiftly followed by a full on cackle. He dragged his nails over his neck, amazed that such a sound was coming from Giran's soft-spoken assistant.

The call was ended and the smile on Giran's face was absurdly smug. "She's got a pretty twisted idea of "fun"," he remarked. "But that's what makes her so good at her job."

There was clearly something wrong with her. For one, she was his fan. That alone was weird, but he was not about to complain about that. Secondly, she sounded outright psychotic over the phone. Thinking about the girls that wrote fan mail to serial killers, Shigaraki remembered Kurogiri saying that they usually liked to think of themselves as insane. Even if they were perfectly sane, boring girls.

There's something wrong with her. So why do I want to see her? I don't get it. She looks like a rejected character from an indie game and she hardly even talks. She just sits there and does whatever I want and stares at me. Like she's obsessed or something. He returned his gaze to the countertop, anxiously awaiting her arrival.

Shift P.O.V

Kugutsu was surrounded by the coppery aroma of blood. Really, the bar smelled like a butcher's shop. It looked quite a bit like a slaughterhouse from an American horror movie she had once seen. Blood dripped from the ceiling, ran down the walls, and pooled on the floor around the plethora of bodies. Dead criminals were strewn about the room; some in pieces and some moderately whole.

She had been crouched in a corner, a hand pressed to a large patch of darkness on the wall as she talked on the phone with Giran. It had taken a lot of control to keep herself from letting her excitement leak into her voice. A grin contorted her features as she spoke, as she let her quirk do its magic.

The young woman had a particularly dangerous quirk called "shadow play". Any shadow that she touched, she could temporarily force into a new shape and grant life. She could control it to do whatever task she needed it to and she could even force it to solidify. The bigger the shadow, the more powerful her creation.

One downside was that the longer she had to control the shadow, the more stamina it burned up. Another drawback was that she needed sufficient levels of shade for it to work well. Too much light and it would be weak. Pure darkness was uncontrollable since it was everywhere. She absolutely needed some light for it to work.

The shadow that she had been controlling had taken the form of a mass of dark tentacles that tore apart and throttled the criminals around her. There was blood splashed across the front of her shirt and it dotted her face, neck, and hair. She wiped a bit at her cheek as she stood to leave, smudging the blood a little and making her look menacing.

Did Giran say that Shigaraki wanted to see me? Realization set in, making her feel almost giddy. The two had spent most of the previous day together, playing games, but when she left he seemed completely unconcerned. He wants to see me, she thought as she slipped out into the alley behind the bar. He really wants to see me?

Heart racing, she made her way to the mah-jongg parlor using back alleys so she could hide her bloody, disheveled appearance. She wished that she had time to clean herself up before meeting with the villain, but knew that she needed to move quickly. She was eager to see him again, however she had another reason for hurrying. It would be unprofessional to make him wait.

As she entered the mah-jongg place, she became self-conscious about the bloody scent coming off of her and her overall crazed appearance. Her feline ears turned back as she approached Giran's side and she kept her head bowed to avoid meeting anyone's gaze. I wish I'd had time to clean up…I look disgusting.

"Here she is. Kugutsu-chan, nice of you to join us," Giran greeted her.

"Unprofessional," Shigaraki muttered from his seat at the counter. He stood and ventured a few steps closer, glaring down at her from behind the hand positioned over his face. "You show up late to a meeting and you couldn't even clean yourself up first? What's the point in even coming here?"

A pang of disappointment made Kugutsu's chest grow tight. "I…had an errand. I came here as soon as I was done."

"Why should we even keep you around?"

"…I'm sorry, Shigaraki-san…" She bowed and hesitated to rise. The assistant was fearful of what sort of disapproving look he may be giving her. I wanted him to like me! I really wanted him to like me and I let him down! Why?! Why is this happening? I feel like I'm going insane!

He was silent for a long moment and finally lifted a hand. Pulling the disembodied hand off of his face, he stared down at Kugutsu with narrowed red eyes. "Your stupid apology doesn't mean anything to me."

Giran rubbed the back of his head and twitched his lips, shifting his cigarette to the other side of his mouth. "Well, looks like you pissed him off," he said under his breath. "Hey, don't worry about it, Shigaraki. I'm sure Kugutsu-chan can find some way to make it up to you."

"Next time you come here to talk, bring her. I don't care what she's doing." Shigaraki returned to his seat and set the hand onto the countertop. "She works for me anyway."

"Sure thing." Giran nudged her elbow to make her lift her head.

Kugutsu saw Shigaraki holding onto the hand by its wrist and noticed that he kept his little finger elevated, refusing to let it touch the odd accessory he had been wearing. His quirk is decay, she remembered. When all five fingers touch something, it starts to disintegrate.

Just then the true danger of the day before sank in. At any moment, he could have grabbed her by the throat with all five fingers touching her skin and she would have died a wretchedly painful death. A shiver ran down her spine as she met his gaze with her own. But he didn't kill me. He let me live.

Her heart skipped a beat and she had to fight the smile that threatened to spread across her face. Kugutsu's fingers ran through her scruffy black hair, tearing through the drying clumps of blood. "Shigaraki-san, I promise…I'll do better. For you." The addition of the last two words brought an unfortunate flush to her cheeks that did not go unnoticed.

"See that? You've really got yourself a loyal fan girl here, Shigaraki."

"…don't call me a fan girl…" she muttered.

"My fan…" The blue-haired villain stared at her for a few seconds until his scarred lips twitched, raising at one corner to display a smirk. "I have my own fan. A loyal fan. I don't get what the big deal is. Is it some sick thrill for you?"

Giran's frown began to deepen and he put a hand on his assistant's shoulder. "No; she's seriously a fan. Right, Kugutsu-chan?"

Something told her that if she answered incorrectly then she could die. The danger rose goose bumps on her skin and she lifted a hand to cover her smile. The pink hue on her cheeks was still quite visible. Her ears perked forward as she shifted her weight to one hip. "I'm…I'm a fan," she admitted. But I'm not an obsessive fan girl.

Searching someone's name online a dozen times a day did not mean that she was obsessed with him. Constantly skimming the newspapers for any details about him, looking for any possible social media accounts, watching the news in hopes of him being mentioned, and attempting to subtly get information from Giran did not make her an obsessive fan girl. No, not even the fact that she had named a Pokémon after him in her game.

I'm not obsessed, she thought as she timidly glanced toward his smirk.