Chapter 17: Acquiescence

At the end of the hallway leading to his escape was the sole reason for his suffering.

Everything that he'd endured thus far – the rumors; the suspicions; the torture; the anger; all of it caused by this sole woman as she smiled at him so casually as if they were friends.

"L-let's go. Now!" His minions quickly tightened their grip on him as they tried to haul him away. "Downstairs!"

He and his entourage were soon met with a blockade of Yakuza – their eyes filled with nothing as they ascended the stairway.

"Damn it…" He looked back to see the woman, who by all accounts should've been dead striding on over to him with that smile that made his heart waver.

"Shinso, dear, why are you—" She paused with a sigh. "Ah, you remember, don't you?"

He nudged his minions to pull back, to try and create space as she kept walking toward him.

"You know, it is very impressive that you've managed to break free. Not a lot can say that." The woman, Makima was her name, gently strode forward as he moved backwards. "I was really hoping that your mind wouldn't have to reveal any nasty details to you. Blissful ignorance is much better in your case."

Her little chuckle made his stomach twist.

"Blissful ignorance…? Is that what you call letting a teen murder in your name?"

"So, you remember one of my orders?" Makima cupped her chin and tapped it with her index finger. "Interesting. I wonder which one it was - there's so many I've had you do that I've lost count."

Lost count….?

The thought that there were still more repressed memories of being an accessory to murder. No, Shinso shook his head, and it only made the disgust and dread in his body worsen. He contributed to mass murder with this woman.

The only question was: how long has it been going on?

His eyes peered past Makima's shoulder to see the Yakuza carrying jerry cans, splashing gasoline onto the walls. They were coating the entire floor downstairs too.

"Don't mind them. I'm just cleaning up a mess. It wouldn't do if people were to ask questions. Especially those of the Police Force, or the Pro Heroes."

Shinso couldn't get his mind off those repressed memories, the evidence of him and Makima together…

"Y-you made me… kill people..." He said with a whisper – the memory of what happened to that woman at the train station still lingering in his head. "How can you just…" He clenched his fists. His voice was hoarse. Just speaking hurt as his mouth still tasted of a tangy iron.

Her expression at his accusation made his body shiver – it was not one of empathy or remorse at all.

"I don't recall such information." She lied with a shake of her head before letting out a little bit of a condescending chuckle. "I didn't make you do that. I told you to do it and you happily did so. Surprisingly well, even."

"But why me…? Why not someone else more capable? I'm just trying to make a name for myself…"

Makima let out a small chuckle. "I did it so I could have you stockpile all sorts of lovely memories till the very end."

"W-what…?"

She smiled and leaned forward. "I've been reading things. Researching. Looking into who you are, what you do, anything pertaining to you, I know about it." She shrugged. "Oh well, I'm sure a nice hearty serving of udon noodles and some dessert will soften your mood either way-"

He cut her off before she could spout more of those twisted words. "S-stop treating me like I'm your friend."

She laughed with such mirth that it made him sick. "You're correct with that; I'm not your friend." Makima closed the gap between them so effortlessly and cupped his chin with her delicate fingers. "You're just a faithful little dog that simply does as he's told."

Her hands, smooth as they were, ran through his hair as she sighed deeply, her eyes locking with his own. "And right now, I'm telling you to come with me."

Shinso's face was slick with sweat; his heart continued to pound as he gulped down a wad of saliva.

How does her quirk work…?

His eyes darted to her own which weren't that all-familiar blank he's accustomed to seeing when his quirk activates.

Can I counter it with mine? No, I tried already and she's not responding to my commands. Are there conditions to hers?

It felt awful knowing his quirk won't at all have an effect here. Nervously speaking, he stood his ground, not at all wanting to depart with wherever she goes. "I'm not going with you."

Makima's face darkened with his words. "It wasn't a request." She reached out with her hand. "Say—"

Whatever she was about to tell him wasn't good, that much he knew. Shinso's legs used what little strength they had to kick her midsection to gain some distance between them. His head snapped to the left. "Aim the gun at me."

With that order, the controlled Yakuza aimed the barrel into the side of his temple – that alone lost even more of Makima's fading smile as she began to glare at him.

She took a deep breath of air before sighing very disappointedly. Somehow, that hurt his heart. It felt like an overwhelming guilt was beginning to well up in his stomach. The whole feeling reminding him of the time he accidentally deleted his mother's email – Makima's disappointment felt so… hurtful.

He shook that aside and matched her scowl with his own. "I-I want answers… Clearly you have some sort of plan for me. Too important enough for me to die, right?"

She didn't answer him, her eyes narrowed to very thin slits as she walked closer.

"Stay back!" Shinso's voice said quickly. "I'm warning you!"

When he saw that she wasn't really buying his bluff, he shouted. "Y-you two! Shoot her!" He ordered, hoping they'd draw their weapons in time to at least give him an opening to slip past her.

"Rescind that order. Bring him to me." She said with a kind expression as his controlled men stopped, carrying him towards her – their grip on his arms tight.

"N-no… don't listen to her. Shoot her! Hit her! Something! Please!" He barked out another order, hoping to regain control, but whatever her quirk was, it was too much.

She let out a light chuckle. "It's no use, Shinso." Her fingers gently brushed against his face, and she frowned at his current state. "Hmm, looks like they did quite the number on you."

Those eerie eyes of hers looked all over his bruised body with analytic precision. "That's going to be quite difficult to explain when I need you looking presentable." She poked and prodded at his wounds from Big Sis' torture.

He got more questions than answers, and he was hoping if he stalled long enough, maybe, just maybe the Police would be arriving soon, or a Pro Hero…. Anyone. Anyone to save him from this monster.

"You'll lose, you know… All-Might, or the Police Force will catch onto you. You can't run and continue this forever!" He said, hoping she'd be riled up from that till help arrived. "C'mon…."

She didn't answer him, all she did was continue to scan over his wounds like an owner would to a pet. Her smooth, delicate fingers brushed over his as her mouth frowned deeper at the sight of his missing fingernails.

Changing tactics, he tried to pull the obedient card. She seemed like the type…

"L-look… if you can just let me go; I won't tell anyone what you made me do. We'll all just forget about it. In fact, I can swear that I won't tell a single soul!"

Makima's smile faded as she got closer to his face, pulling his chin taut as she leaned in, her breath touching his skin, making his entire body shiver. "Don't worry; you won't be telling anything after I fix a few things about you."

He couldn't help but stare into her eyes again as they bore into his soul – his breathing escalated as a chain began to slither up around his neck, tightening itself like a collar – creeping its way toward his forehead.

Her fingers squeezed his cheek bones as she kept peering over his body.

"Answer me…." He gasped out, "One question, please…!" He had to stall. He just had to. There was no way in hell she's going to let him live. She was going to kill him. He couldn't let that happen!

Fear was beginning to pool into his stomach and up to his throat as dread continued to spread throughout his body. "Why are you doing this? W-why am I doing that—"

She pulled the chain-like collar taut and jerked his face forward to her as she caught wind of his attempt.

"You poor thing; do I terrify you that much?" She cooed, rubbing his cheek gently. "Don't worry. You're not dying. Not yet. Not ever. You're too good to toss away. Besides, you're so close to the edge. I just have to figure out how to push you over it."

She gave him a brief hug, one that soothed his entire being, as if it's been trained to do so.

All his anxiety; all his dread; all his worries, practically everything he'd endured thus far, evaporated as her warmth enveloped him – her flowery perfume putting Shinso at ease.

"See, I care for you, don't I?" She said, cooing and saying gently into his ear as she pulled him closer.

No… you don't!

"Yeah…. You do." Shinso's eyes widened; his words weren't his own. His body and his lips began to flap and talk for him.

Her laughter soon made his heart swell with assurance and joy. "Good boy."

Again, that alone made him feel giddy, like it scratched another itch in his brain. "And I always do care for you. At home, at your school, and I even care for your lofty dreams."

My dreams…?

"With everything I do for you, I ask of nothing in return. But now, I need your help more than ever." She leaned in even closer till her face was just inches from his own. "There's a big, gigantic favor I'd really like to ask if that's fine with you."

W-what…?

"A-anything… for you." Once again, his mouth spoke for him. He tried to grit his teeth to stop saying these words. They weren't his.

She beamed at him and pulled away. "Wonderful. But first, let's tend to you. I need to make sure I censor and delete anything in that head of yours that you aren't supposed to know. I can't have my dog trying to break its leash - let alone having you say 'no' again to me. I thought I told you months ago that word is no longer in your vocabulary when talking to me."

She tutted, looking content with her inspection, petting him so soothingly. "Now then… Say you'll give me all of you."

Instantly, his entire body went limp – his own consciousness slipping away as his vision blurred.

"I… give you all of me."

"Good boy. We'll put this whole thing behind us, don't you worry." Her voice began to fade as he fell into a deep, relaxing sleep.

Shinso awoke in a cold sweat, throwing off his blanket and panting heavily. He looked around to find himself back in his comfortable bed. The nightstand and the black digital clock were to his right, and the ceiling above was his own.

He looked at the clock to see that it was only 8:37 in the evening.

A dream…? Was that all it was?

He got out of bed, stretching his limbs. The nap he took did wonders as he felt so refreshed. Though, he instinctively looked at his fingers for some odd reason. Shinso didn't know why he wanted to, it just… came to him.

He put a shirt on and opened the door from his room to head downstairs.

What a horrible nightmare.

Shinso tried to recollect what happened in it, but… he just couldn't place his finger on it. Like all dreams, any semblance of it was whisked away by his brain.

His parents were downstairs by the sounds of it, their voices filling the kitchen as he went to go check out what they were doing.

He passed through the foyer, pictures of him as a baby in a cute cat-eared onesie being held up by his mother littered the walls.

Some involved his father as he held him up highly on his broad shoulders, smiling at the camera with some mountains in the background.

"Right, and then I said—Oh, Shinso, you're awake." His father, an older man with sunken eyes and a noticeable five o'clock shadow, smiled tiredly, and patted him on the back. "Glad you're doing alright now. You healed like nothing thanks to that…. What was her name again, that old woman with the healing quirk?"

His voice was gruff as he turned his attention to his mother, her indigo hair tied up in a bun as she tended to the stove.

"I think you're talking about Recover Girl, hun." His mother added in a sing-song voice.

"Yeah, that's it." He nodded and sighed heavily, face-palming as if he'd remembered something foul. "I just wish your school wasn't so lenient on those delinquents who harassed and hurt you, son."

Harassed…? Oh, that's right.

Memories of being pummeled by several boys his age flooded into his head like a burst dam. The dirty alleyway; the painful punches that bruised his body; the way his finger-nails were pulled off.

Wait… what?

Shinso's head hurt – that memory didn't feel right. The base of it seemed fine, but it felt… off to him.

He chose to sit down at the table, a headache coming on again as he massaged his temples with his fingers.

The smell of his mother's cooking took away his attention as she placed two plates full of nutritious home-cooked goodness for Dad and him.

He rubbed his eyes, his vision adjusting to the usual brightness of the lights in the kitchen. They were so unnecessarily bright. "Hey, Dad, Mom can we not have all the—"

Shinso's eyes widened upon seeing a third person seated at the white-kitchen table, thanking his mother with a nod and smile as she took a plate.

"Thank you so much, Mrs. Hitoshi."

"Oh, think nothing of it, Detective! I'm just glad you found our son when you did. Lord knows what would've happened if he stayed in that alley any longer." His mother said with such gratitude. "Please, help yourself."

"I will." The Detective, one Mashiro Hayakawa, smiled as she took a bite. Her black hair was tied up into a braid he swore he'd seen before. And that smile…

Something about that smile made him shiver.

Something felt…. Familiar with the detective. He'd remembered her – time and time again she visited and asked him all sorts of questions at U.A. It sort of irked him as her presence at the school gave him a bad rep.

They ate in silence, laughing at random quips from one another as they exchanged what they did today.

People still harbored thoughts and beliefs that he was the Control Killer! Him? Impossible. The idea was disgusting as it was inhumane. His hands clenched into fists at the thought. Still… Her eyes, he'd seen them somewhere. He just couldn't place where though.

It didn't help that Detective Hayakawa kept her eyes on him the entire time during dinner. He fiddled with his food and peered up from his plate to see her still staring…

What's her deal….? Can't Dad just tell her it's time for her to leave? C'mon….

Trying to shift away from the odd atmosphere, his father laughed a bit nervously, "Anyways, I've heard a lot about you, Detective. Your work in taking down some of the villains of late surely have—"

"Shinso, dear," Hayakawa ignored his father, simply staring at him. "Can I ask you a favor?" Her silken voice commanded.

"I…" He gulped and looked right at her. "Yeah…?"

She was resting her elbow on the table with her chin propped up on her palm. A kind smile graced her lips. "Can you tell your mother to kill herself for me?"

His chopsticks dropped as did his parents' own utensils.

"Ha-ha… T-that's some odd humor you got there, Detective." His mother said, her eyes scrunched up in that usual expression that showed she was ready to tell Hayakawa to leave.

"I asked you for a favor, Shinso. It's rude to not answer when I'm talking to you." She said, her face deadpan as she continued to look at him.

He tried to look over to his parents for aid, but her voice stopped him. "Don't look at them, Shinso. Look at me."

Warily he did so, and she had a frown that twisted his gut.

"Who are you more loyal to?" She leaned closer. "Me or your parents?"

He couldn't swallow…. His whole body was shaking; his breathing got quicker.

His father stood up suddenly, slamming a fist in order to intimidate the woman. "That's it. Leave. Now before I remove you myself—"

She casually aimed her finger at him. "Bang."

In that instant, his father's upper half disappeared into nothingness as his legs and midriff slacked forward, falling onto the table's end, knocking it and the contents on it over. A loud clatter filled the room as his mom cried out and fell onto her knees.

Shinso backed up against the wall, shocked and utterly mortified.

Shinso's cry was hoarse and quiet, like he couldn't get a sound out. When he managed to finally get a sound, what came out was a squeak, a mewl, and a whimper.

He looked up at her as she began walking toward him, kneeling to be at his eye-level. Tears fell down his face as he tried to think of how this was a dream. It had to be. There was no other way.

Behind Hayakawa, his mother quickly scrambled to grab her phone.

"If you don't tell her to kill herself, we'll both be in a lot of trouble. You wouldn't want that, would you? What about your dreams? It'll all go down the drain once the Police come and find you."

She pulled something out of her jacket, wagging a polaroid of them together.

The image immediately made him remember.

The torture; the kidnapping; the Control Killer; the Yakuza estate…. It was all coming back.

"ARGH!" He gripped his head in pain as more memories came flooding back. Images of him using his quirk to kill so many people. In all sorts of brutal, disgusting, suicidal ways.

Visions of him watching people leap to their deaths off roofs; onto train tracks; slicing their throats or wrists; all of it came crashing down into his mind like a roaring tidal wave.

N-no! I-I didn't do those! That wasn't me! It wasn't!

"M-mom!" He tried to stand up, but she shoved him back into the wall with a palm. "Glrk…"

"I see now. How odd. You are really becoming more and more interesting, Shinso. It appears you remember everything… Again." Hayakawa, no… Makima, said with a deep frown. "Even after I thought I fixed all those memories in your head a week ago. I even gave them all neat little coat jobs like bullies, teenage drama, that sort of thing."

He memorized a chain going into his head, sinking in deep as it did something before it all went black…

"It's like I must reapply a band-aid on an open gash every single time. But then again, that's what I like about you. You're special, Shinso. More special than you can even imagine. You're so close. So very close." She cupped his chin and leaned closer, her face inches away from his. "I'll ask again: Can you tell your mother to kill herself for me?"

"I…"

"You're my dog, remember? You can't say no. It's not in your nature. It'll never be. So, I'll ask for the last time, Shinso: Can you tell your mother to kill herself?"

He desperately wanted to tell her no, but when he tried to voice the word, no sound came out of his mouth. It was like his breath was stolen from him with each attempt.

"Remember your dreams? Didn't you tell me you wanted to disprove all those naysayers? All those doubters who think you're a villain?"

Meekly, he nodded, her voice soothing his sobs as she patted and rubbed his back lovingly.

"Mmm, and you still want to achieve that dream, don't you?"

Shinso sniffled, still shaking as he nodded quietly once more.

"Then I can make those dreams come true. I'll help you. I'll give you everything you need to prove that you are a hero. All you have to do is do as you're told. Understand?"

Shinso's body stopped shaking, as his reluctant acquiescence to Makima's words showed itself on his semi-relaxed face.

I…I… There's nothing I can do…. M-my dreams….

He hesitantly opened his mouth and took a deep breath. "Mom….?"

"Don't worry, hun! I got 9—" His mother cried out, sniffling and crying still.

His heart sank as he felt his quirk take effect. Her sobbing in the other room came to an abrupt end.

"Good boy." She patted his head. "Tell her to come in here. I need you to watch."

"Can you come back into the kitchen….?"

Shinso's heart pounded in his chest as he stared at his mom. The woman he'd known all his life.

She looked so peaceful despite the blank look on her face. "M-mom…." Shinso's voice choked again. Tears began flowing down his face as he sobbed and shut his eyes closed. He opened them briefly, his gaze darting to the floor, but he averted it – not wanting to look at what was left of his dad that bled across the tiled kitchen floor.

Makima helped him up, got behind him and massaged his shoulders. "Shhh…" She cooed into his ear, speaking to him in a tender whisper. "Go on. Show me how you always do it. You remember, don't you?" She gripped the back of his head, ensuring he didn't look away.

"P-pick up the knife you were using to chop the peppers, Mom…." He grit his teeth, watching with pain as his mother heeded his command. She held it in her hand and looked at him, awaiting another order.

"K-kill…." Shinso paused, trying to not say the next order, but his lips began to speak for him. "Kill…. yourself…. Mom." He muttered, too weak to say it loudly.

The next few seconds truly destroyed him. The sound of his mom's body soon dropping to the floor did it in for him. He fell to his knees and wailed loudly, falling to the floor.

She had the grace to let him wail and call out to his parents. He crawled on over to his mother's body, cradling her lifeless corpse in his arms as he rested his back against the kitchen cupboard. "I-I'm so sorry… I'm sorry… I-I didn't do it… It wasn't me…. Mom… Dad…. It wasn't me."

Makima's shoes clicked against the tile floor as she knelt by him, patting and rubbing his back again. "It was the only way, Shinso."

The only way…? The only way for what?! He wanted to snap at her, but he had no energy. Nothing at all but to just lay there with his mom in his arms.

Shinso didn't have it in him to swat Makima's soothing hand as she cupped his cheek. "You performed so well, Shinso. Like always, you never cease to impress. I imagine it's only a matter of time until you awaken for me."

Somehow, her words of comfort began to calm him down... immensely. His parents' death no longer troubled him in this moment.

The guilt, anxiety, and dread had all dissipiated with a wave of Makima's hand.

"Awaken…?"

"Curious? I imagine it's not something that often happens in this world – only a rare few cases ever truly awaken their quirks in their lifetimes. Sometimes its in a life-or-death situation, others a truly traumatic event or repressed memory withheld deep in their subconscious." She continued her lesson.

"I've been reading a lot on quirks lately, all of it contained so much knowledge about their origins, how they came to be, and much more." She paused, humming. "But what really caught my interest was quirk awakenings. You see Shinso, I've been really looking into you when someone recommended you to me."

Someone recommended me to a monster…?

"You true purpose was only ever to be a scapegoat. Someone whose only mission was to take the blame for my many atrocities. But… after finding out about you; your past; your life; and your ever-so-useful quirk, I just had to tend to you. To nourish that talent. You were like my own personal bonsai tree that I took care of for a while."

Makima's lips curled up. "You're looking to redeem yourself by becoming a Hero. That is your dream: You want to prove to everyone that even a person with a quirk like yours can still be in the leagues with the Pros."

She held his head up lovingly, making him look up at her in the eyes, tossing his mother's corpse aside and taking its place in his personal space. "With my influence, you will outshine the rest."

"W-what….?"

Makima laughed and smiled. "You're going to help me do something truly extraordinary at the U.A. Sports Festival."

"But, before that… I'd like to see how well your quirk has truly manifested. You'll show me, won't you, Shinso?"

He nodded, knowing he wouldn't have a say, and she practically beamed at him. "Thank you; I think the best way to show it to me is by giving me some assistance. I want to see how your awakened quirk will handle helping me squash the last dredges of an infestation in the city."

Giran stared at the television with a look of no surprise as he saw the beautiful News Anchor, Ai Yume, giving her report of a massacre that happened last week at a suburban neighborhood. Her face, unmarred by any blemishes, spoke of the tragedies that had occurred in what he assumed what had been left of Akiyama's estate.

I told you idiots… but they didn't listen. No one listens.

Some of his sources had told him that the Yakuza all went quiet shortly after whatever happened at that old turtle's home. When he'd ask that surely there had to be something, but no, they'd told him that they all just went quiet.

Not a blip or a mouse fart from anybody. It made him teeter on the edge of a breakdown himself for fear that Makima would come knocking any moment now.

He tried calling for that Kazuma fellow, and all he got was a babbling of curses and a formal 'fuck you' by the man. Well, at least he was fine.

Makima probably had no use for the guy; too far away in Kamino Ward to be much of a nuisance. Still, didn't stop him from wanting to see what made the infamous Golden Blade ditch the operation and head home in a hurry.

He flicked through the channel once his favorite News Anchor got switched to some fat oaf.

The first was some wacky guy dressed in a circus outfit, promoting his event with a reward. "Get a trip to I-Island through our—"

Boring…

Next was a semi-serious ad with a pair of women doing yoga while showing off a green package. "Are you experiencing menstrual pains? Try our newest medication—"

No thanks…

The third was some breaking news of some sort that he didn't really bother with. If it didn't have a good reporter or news anchor, count him out! Next!

He gave the last one a chance since it was good-looking reporter with a nice rack interviewing some scraggly guy. In the back, Giran could see that there were sirens and police blocking off a public park behind him. "-And then I was like, woah! What happened to the guy!? He just went-"

Giran almost got intrigued but decided to just shut the TV off.

The heavy knocks on his door only meant one thing as he begrudgingly got up from his chair and peeked through the peephole to see one paranoid and distraught looking Asuka.

He opened it and watched as the short stack scurried in like a frightened goblin, quickly running off to his guest room and setting up shop.

He sighed as he watched her pull several gadgets, and two laptops out of her large duffle bag.

"And what exactly are you doing here?"

"W-what's the wifi—screw it, I got it. Hacked it." She said, not taking her eyes off her blue laptop's screen as she began opening several tabs to security cameras, drone footage, and more with heavy sweat on her face.

He rolled his eyes and swirled his whiskey around in his shot glass. "Didn't answer my question, Asuka."

She didn't answer him and just kept tapping away at her keyboard, messaging whoever she could.

"Asuka…. Answer me—"

"I-it's fucked, Giran!" She squawked out, pulling at her hair after seeing no reply from anyone on her laptop. "Completely and totally fucked!" She screamed at him before whirling around to face her many gadgets, tinkering with them, and loading up a pistol, and stashing it into her holster underneath her thigh.

"I told you, but you didn't listen. You just had to buy into Akiyama's promises of glory."

"I know…! I'm just a young Yakuza though! I don't know any better!" She jumped out of her chair and latched onto him with pleading eyes. "Help me!" She pointed a finger into his chest painfully.

Gira wanted to just tell her to leave, but the girl's disheveled appearance might've implied that she didn't have anywhere else to turn to…. That alone made him worried. Not for Asuka per se, but rather how quickly Makima cleaned up these Yakuza types…. Something was off.

The short stack took him out of his thoughts and pressed her acrylic blue nail into his chest again. "You know people! Y-yeah…" The gears in her head were likely turning, hoping to find some way out of this mess. "You can get me outta the country!" Her face was all smiles, if not a little creepy.

She pushed off him and shoved her laptop's screen into his face, puppy-dog like eyes trying to win any form of sympathy. "L-look, I'm already transferring and wiring twenty million yen to your accounts."

"Wait, how did—"

She cut him off before he could ask how in the hell she had access to that kind of information. "I've pulled funds from all the Yakuza Patriarchs over the years, and I'm giving it all to you. I've been embezzling here and there, okay! Just hel—"

He cut off her babbling. "And do what exactly?" Giran scoffed, "What's got you all worked up? What happened to your men?"

"Gone. Dead, probably. I don't know. S-she came to my place with Akiyama's goons, and they gunned down everybody. I-I tried fighting back, b-but I…" The girl paused, trying to recount what happened – her words on the tip of her tongue as she scratched her head. "…don't know…. I can't remember…! T-that's the shitty part, Giran! I can't…. fucking…. remember." She cradled her head like it was in pain.

She waved off his words and ran her finger through her tangled, bloody-looking matted hair. "Gah… Look, let's forget about that right now. Help me, dude. Please. I'll do anything!" He noticed that her eyeliner was all messed up.

She'd likely been crying earlier or having several breakdowns before somehow finding one of his safe houses.

Not seeing him budge, she got closer, pulling out all the stops to try and convince him to help her sorry ass.

"Please! Help me, Giran! I-I can suck your cock! W-we can fuck! Anything!" She pushed him into the bed, already straddling onto his lap, trying to tug on his pants with pure desperation.

"Damn it, get a hold of yourself, Asuka!" He yelled, shoving her off and standing up with wariness. "I fucking told you that this wasn't going to work!"

She was on the floor, curling up into a ball, crying into her palms and mumbling things. "Grk.. I-I—" Tears were forming at the edge of her eyes. She wailed loudly and rocked herself back and forth in a ball pathetically.

Giran sighed, knowing full well that Asuka's Gadget Fox Yakuza persona was just a façade. She may have put up a tough exterior and cussed like a sailor, but she was all bark and no bite when it came to actually facing the consequences of her actions.

It probably didn't help that one of her close friends, that buff woman, had likely died during Makima's escape. He didn't really want to add into the fire of telling Asuka off or forcing her to leave.

He wasn't that cruel.

"I-I…" She dry heaved and began retching, crying nonsense about not wanting to die a horrific death. "Hueh…. Help me please…"

He sighed and face-palmed himself at the distraught girl. He sat down on the bed and stared at all her gadgets. "I'll think of something, alright? Can you at least just try and calm down? Can't really help you if you at least tell me what happened."

Hearing her still not respond to him, he sighed and spoke with a heavy sigh. "I'll get you a boat or a plane to the Americas. Maybe set you up in New York or something. Doubt Makima would bother with you then."

"I-I…Hrk…." She couldn't say anything for a bit before finally calming down after being reassured of her safety. She sniffled and huddled up against the corner of the room. "I-I don't know how she did it… b-but she's killing us, Giran."

Giran rolled his eyes at that but kept listening.

"T-the other families… t-they've reported finding their estates empty. J-just gone. Nobody remaining but blood splatters and clothes splayed out onto the floors."

Giran narrowed his eyes at that. It had to have been one of Makima's special tricks. It was probably that 'air' gun Asuka had told him about a while back.

"Okay…" He drawled out, hoping to get this girl out of his apartment before she draws in the shark that was Makima. "And why's that got you all terrified?"

"Y-you don't understand! I-I—" She paused, hyperventilating as she looked around the room in pure terror. "You feel that?!" Asuka cradled her own shoulders, backing away like a shaken chicken.

"Feel what?"

"S-something's wrong!" The girl was clutching her head tightly scratched her face.

He tensed up and looked around to the ceiling to see what she was staring at, but all he saw was nothing. Giran stared back at Asuka to see her eyes shaking in pure dread as she kept sweating and breathing quickly.

"I-I'm telling you… something's bad! Somethings wrong!" Asuka cried in fear, running back to him, latching onto the lapels of his shirt, and wailing in his face. "SAVE ME! PLEASE! DO SOMETHING—"

He barely got a glimpse of her face being twisted and contorted before her entire body exploded.

Blood splattered all over him like a giant red balloon as it splashed against the walls, bed, and floor.

Giran fell back onto his ass as he stared at the blood puddle that was once Asuka. Her tank top and denim shorts all that remained where she had once stood.

There was no sign of viscera, guts, or anything of the sort as he stood back up to look at what the hell had just happened. He waited for his end, closing his eyes, and praying to whatever God was listening to spare him.

But nothing came. It was just silence.

Silence and the sound of Asuka's blood dripping off the ceiling onto his nose and head.

"A-asuka…?" He muttered, trying to make sense of the whole damn clusterfuck that just happened.

AN: *Makima with a giant version of her brown shoe like that Ludacris MV Stand up with the mem remix.* "Die! Thy end is now! Crush! Prepare thyself!" Or the other version that I also find pretty goofy XD "Now! Is this what I lost to?! What?! Insignficant fuck! Machine! Time to right my wrong!"

*Pushes aside meme that was 'supposed' to help you feel better after reading this chapter.*

Anyways, poor Shinso. I'm really sorry, bud. And yeah... This chapter is pretty... how can I put it... messed up? I question my sanity writin this, but then again, it does have the Mature rating for a reason.

I'm back though! XD Still surviving. Still alive. Just... stuck in a limbo half the time.