Chapter 22: End of The Beginning

Tsukuachi's heart was racing and pounding imminent danger into his ears as he gawked at the unmistakable red hair he'd been searching for all this time. The one who's been causing all manner of horrific atrocity after the other.

His mouth felt dry, his hands shaking with dread and betrayal. All this time she was right under his nose; right by his side; right at every crime scene.

Anger and betrayal filled his heart. This didn't feel real. "Hayakawa…"

All around him, the patrons of the restaurant stood up, surrounding their booth like a crowd would to a famous celebrity except instead of adoring faces they had dull eyes and blank expressions.

She can manipulate multiple people simultaneously…

He had an inkling that it was possible, but to see it up close with his very own eyes scrambled his courage and fear. Though it had to have taken a toll on her body or mind. He needed to figure this mystery out and fast.

For now, he just had to summon an incredible amount of courage and stare the monster into its eyes. "Why now?"

"Why what?" She asked with a condescending tone. "Why am I deigning to kill you when I could've done so sooner?"

"Yes. Give me that."

"Mmm, I admittedly had hoped to have stayed my hand, but time is of the essence. People would ask questions if I had killed you earlier. Where the usual man on the scene was; why he wasn't around to sniff for things he shouldn't. People would get nosy, and I'd hate to be busy mopping up every little crumb before I could do what I need to. So, you being alive was more useful than killing you - I hope that answers your burning curiosity."

"And that jilted lover?"

"Giran?" She said with a condescending smirk. "I was admittedly a little perturbed in thinking he'd cut the curtain of my little act a bit soon, but you valiantly, and rather stupidly, shrugged it off."

"Giran…" The name sounded familiar, but the tenseness of the entire scene made it hard to think of anything but the monster in front of him. "You won't win. You'll lose, whatever it is you have planned."

"I doubt it. This world is really oblivious. Oblivious to the point that they'll neglect the crumbling foundations it has. I'll be doing it a favor when I remake it."

"Remake it how?" He asked. "You keep going on about that. What are you planning?"

Her eyes looked him up and down. "You wouldn't really care. You're merely trying to buy time. Time that you don't have."

"Enlighten me at least."

"Hmm…" The way her eyes scanned him like she was appraising him didn't feel right. "I don't think I will. You always try to think things through, Tsukauchi. Trying to be a couple steps ahead, but always floundering your ascent to the answer."

He had to keep her talking, something to delay her murderous intent. "What happened to you? Were you always like this? Why Hayakawa?"

"It was just a means to an end, that's all."

"That can't be true. What of the laughs we had; the brilliant conversations of proper detective work; the god damn snarky comments you'd make?" He cried that bit out. Refusing to believe it was just all an act. "You don't have to do this. I can help you. We'll talk–"

"You mean when I'm locked up in Tartarus? You'll visit my cell every so often and speak of what could've been?" She countered. "You won't. Attempting to play my heart strings won't get you anywhere."

Empathy wasn't working. Damn it all. He had to be fast. He had to buy time, anything to stay alive."My death won't change anything; kill me and all of Musutafu—"

"-Is already in the palm of my hand." She cut him off, chuckling at his confused expression. "For all your praise of being the best detective, you really are naive. While you were busy snooping for me, I've already sunken my hooks into a lot of things. Eraserhead; Chief Kenji; Principal Nezu."

Tsukauchi's mind reeled at the list of sleeper agents she had. "The Principal…? You're joking."

"Why do you think he was so adamant about keeping the festival going despite your heated warnings time and time again?"

Tsukauchi connected the dots with haste, the gears shifting and turning inside his brain.

Why would the Principal deny him the opportunity to bring the HPSC into the festival; Why the Principal fought so hard to ensure the Festival looked as 'non-aggressive' as possible.

It was because of her influence. Because of her machinations, security won't be as tight as it could've been. Tsukauchi could only glare at her. "You're a devil."

"I am; you're not far off from that." She smugly said with a smile. "Mmm, Nezu, though. Such a useful little creature. I was so glad to have run into him at a Cometbucks so long ago. He's done his part, as will you. When you die."

"So you do have prerequisites for your quirk." He said, trying to keep the clock on his life ticking. He shifted the conversation. "Why not take me under your command? It'd be much easier than killing me."

His question seemed to strike a nerve as she narrowed her eyes at him. "Do you really believe someone will swoop in and save you?"

She couldn't. She can't take me under control. Tsukauchi thought back to her earlier words, '...That mind of yours refuses to cave to me.'

"You can't put me under your quirk, can you?" He looked up to see her smile dim to a frown. Her eyebrows furrowed just slightly. Her expressions may have been unnoticeable to anybody else, but to him, he could see it - that she's a complex killer. Something ticked inside her head, he just had to find out what it was.

Good. Good, he was getting somewhere. "I don't meet a certain prerequisite to be under it, don't I?"

"It's true, you don't. It would've made things so much easier if you'd been slightly stupider. But you aren't. That inquisitive mind seems to be locked tight."

He looked down under the table, thinking about lifting the thing and using it as cover at the last moment. The way she was talking didn't seem like she intended to keep him alive as a hostage. She had the atmosphere of fully killing him here and now.

"Is All-Might like that too?" He asked and she didn't answer, her eyes narrowing into slits. Her silence was more than enough. "Then that means Mirko was right. You can't control certain people. But I'm no Pro Hero, so surely that means–"

He tried to rise up and make a stand, but Haya—no, the Control Killer shoved the table toward his midriff, trapping him against the cushioned seat behind.

"Escape is not an option; neither is begging. Your death here will serve a purpose." She gruffly changed the topic, not at all liking the fact her quirk didn't work on certain people.

God complex…? No, she'd be spouting about how better she is than me. Superiority then…?

"I'll rally your friends, family, and the whole city against a literal ghost they'll never find."

"They'd not believe you over me!"

"I weave excellent sob stories; I'll be sure to speak fondly of you at your funeral."

"But why?!" He said with anger and pain, the table's edge digging deeply into him. "Why do this…. This senseless killing? Why do it?"

"You wouldn't understand it even if I tried explaining it to you; you'd simply call me a madwoman." She said with indifference, shrugging her shoulders before aiming her finger at him. "Goodbye, Tsukauchi."

"I saw you as an equal!" He yelled, not at all missing the glare she had growing by ten. It frightened him. But his courage demanded he get answers. " You were my partner! You can't throw that away."

"That's the problem, Tsukauchi." Hayakawa said coldly. "You never were."

No, not like this. You can't just do this!

He quickly tried to lunge at her.

"Haya–"

"Bang."

His ears rang as a burst of strong, stinging pain soon erupted into his abdomen. He looked down to see a gaping hole at his side. It hurt like all hell broke loose inside of his body and there was no doubt that internal bleeding, the lack of what used to be there, and black spots in his vision weren't a good sign.

The pain was unlike anything he'd ever had before. He fell to his left out of the booth, onto the matted carpet of the restaurant, crawling away with desperation and blood pooling down his waist and thighs.

The crowd parted for him, staring at him with lifeless eyes. Was she going to have these poor souls kill themselves after he dies? No, he can't think that… He still had time—

Tsukauchi's life flashed before his eyes - graduating university with pride alongside his Sister hugging him with all smiles; meeting and joking around with Toshinori all the time; managing paperwork and solving cases to put various concerned people at ease.

Sounds of his parents talking to him with pride and joy; laughing with old friends in the station; worrying about Hayakawa's disappearance with constant calls, texts, and check-ups at her cubicle…

A good life he led and now here he was, bleeding like an idiot as he tried to find purchase on another booth, his entire body feeling cold. Tsukauchi's legs felt like jelly while he tried to raise himself up for stability, his bloody hand leaving a print onto a platter of half-eaten food plates.

He stumbled into the booth's seat, his eyes on her as she waltzed over with a frown.

Blood was forming in the back of his throat; he tasted nothing but the tangy iron on his tongue. He was losing too much valuable time. He reached for his backpocket, attempting to call the emergency line, but Hayakawa gripped his wrist with surprisingly strong strength.

He cried out with a pain grimace as she'd forced his phone out of his hand and peered at the notifications.

"Nobody will save you, Tsukauchi. Just accept your defeat and you can watch from the grave of the beautiful world I'll make." Her finger came up slowly, aiming toward him with her cold, ringed eyes honing in on his bloody state.

"Your name… At least give me that." He gasped out, blood oozing out of his lips; eyes bloodshot and his hair damp with sweat. "Give me one answer…"

"Still on about that? Even at death's door, you snoop for something to latch onto; something to solve the biggest case you'll never finish?"

She hummed, scanning his form and closed her eyes with a condescending smirk. "Makima. It's Makima."

Makima…

The memory of Toshinori telling him about that woman's name he couldn't quite recall. 'Gods, I remember it started with an M, or maybe something else. Ma-hmm… Maki. It was something Maki."

He was an idiot. Why couldn't he connect the dots sooner?

"Makima, huh…" Tsukauchi coughed up phlegm and blood, the action alone making wince from the sharp pain pooling in his gut.

Tsukauchi closed his eyes - praying that Toshinori, someone, anyone, would figure it out and stop her. Stop her from–

"Bang."

Another sharp pain rammed into his chest and darkness soon clouded his vision - the table and the booth splattering itself into blood.

Makima's eyes waited til the light of Tsukauchi's own dimmed to nothing. She had to confirm he'd be dead. Slowly, she sighed out a breath of relief and slight disappointment.

Everything was just poorly timed. She'd have liked to have finally conquered Tsukauchi's mind, but time was no longer on her side. With the irritating Detective out of the way, the Police Station was effectively hers.

Chief Kenji would be a figurehead and her the puppet-master as she ensured the Pro Heroes would be none the wiser for tomorrow. The same went for Nezu's portion of the plan. She just had to do her part, and so too did Shinso and Chisaki.

"Ms. Makima…" A woman's voice called out, but the tone of it already revealed who it was. Her eyes shifted to the tired expression of a waitress with black hair tied up into a pony-tail - her red blouse and black pants doing nothing to really hide the demeanor of her newest pet project.

"Shinso, dear. Your quirk has truly exceeded my expectations." She said with pride, cupping the girl's cheek. "You can speak through people now? Interesting. Perhaps our plan will be easy."

The woman's head shook with a shaky voice. "It won't. I get awful headaches speaking through someone's own voice. It does a lot to their bodies. If I used it too long, they'd die–"

"But it shouldn't bother you. They're merely a means to an end, my dear. You know that, don't you?" She said, "Take care of this." She gestured to Tsukauchi's dead body. "Ensure no one finds it until after the festival. It'll make explaining much easier."

"Yes, Ms. Makima."

Shinso's various puppets began swarming about Tsukauchi's body, hoisting it up and discreetly carrying it away from the booths and into the kitchen.

But there was still one little beetle who scurried around through cameras. One that had to be reminded of his place. One that ought to know when to be brought to heel like the good dog he is.

Scared, paranoid, and at his limit. That's Giran. Such a silly man, but a useful one nonetheless. Her gaze turned up to the camera above, its lens zoomed in onto her like someone was watching.

Giran's eyes couldn't tear themselves away from the scene he'd just seen. He'd warned the man. He did! He couldn't be called lazy or a coward if he'd given Tsukauchi a warning!

But he got information! That damn kid of hers, Shinso Hitoshi, the little bastard is under her control! Or maybe working in tandem with her. Either way that duo is bad news. The stuff that would make this a level ten of evil shit.

By the looks of it, the kid's quirk has gotten stronger. Stronger than what his original file suggested. Not good, definitely not good shit to learn at all.

And their plan - the Festival. There was only one dang festival around this time of year that anyone gave a damn about and it was the Sports Festival. But why? What reason could they benefit from it?

Eraserhead, the Principal, the Police Chief…. A lot of hefty names she had at her fingertips. People had to know of this.

He kept tapping away and zooming in on the scene of the crime - Makima wiping the blood off her finger and face, taking a new shirt from one of the controlled schmucks in the restaurant with her.

Yeah, this would fuck her over though. He'd send this footage to someone - Sir Nighteye or–

"I know you're watching, Giran." He heard the devil's voice say from the computer. His blood went cold and his heart stopped as he looked back to the computer's screen to see Makima staring up at the camera with a smile. "You didn't think I knew? I reckon you know how good my hearing can be." She gestured to her ears with a chuckle. "I have to give you some credit for figuring that out. What gave it away - the crow by your windowsill? I should've let it fly about instead. Would've been less inconspicuous. Oh well, the secret's up."

She stood more towards the camera, her head titled upwards more up at it with a chilling smile that made his heart freeze. "Be a good boy and stay where you are. We need to talk. Face to face. I do miss having conversations with you."

Like hell I will! Giran thought, already trying to dial in Kurogiri's number for an escape.

"And don't bother running. Unless you'd like to end up like dear little Asuka and the rest of her people."

The memory of the Gadget Fox suddenly imploding in one of his safehouses came to mind and complete dread washed over his body. The girl, he remembered, completely panicked and looked downright scared to her soul.

He stayed in his seat at a rather dingy internet cafe that not even most people would bother looking at. Beside him on the far right were two smelly teen boys playing some sort of team game. They munched on cheesy chips and smacked their lips; their fingers tapping away at the keyboard and issuing out heated commands.

It was a busy cafe filled with lowlives and degenerates that likely lived in this place. Smoke filled the air, some online slot machines were going off, and a few more raucous arguments shouted out between people.

Still, the cafe was a mile or so away from where that Natsumatsuri Waves building was. He had time. But he couldn't run. Even if he wanted to. Death's cold grip was on his balls and he couldn't do anything.

He could've saved Tsukauchi - dragged him out of that bar while he had the chance, but Giran was a coward. He had to think of himself first and foremost. Who wouldn't do the same in his place?! A Pro might, but he was just an info broker. Nothing more than that!

He'd given that Detective every chance to get the hell out of there and look where it got him! Dead and likely tossed into the ocean to bloat up like a balloon…

He sank further into his own seat, hiking up the collar of his jacket in hopes that maybe Makima wouldn't go through with her threat.

Why on earth did he think it was a good idea to try and warn Tsukauchi about the shit that looked inevitable?! He'd gone and dug himself an early grave by warning him in a stupid bar bathroom of all things! But he really prayed for the slight hope that Tsukauchi could do it, and now look where it got him.

He kept leaning up from the computer's desk and checking the entrance, expecting to see the devil herself walk in with murder on her mind.

"Calm down, Giran. You're useful. You can get out of this. She needs you. Remember her quirk only works for imbecile shit." He smoothed his hair and tried to steady his breathing, opting to close out the tabs on his laptop and replace it with silly images of cats and dogs.

Waiting for her felt like an eternity. No, it felt like he was waiting to be sentenced to death row in a dumb internet cafe of all things!

Five minutes turned to fifteen as he kept his eyes on the clock, tapping his foot restlessly against the floor below him. Those fifteen minutes soon turned into thirty and he felt like his heart was going to burst or descend him into cardiac arrest. He was fucked! He was totally in the shit now. What could he do?!

He hid a quiet gasp when he heard the doorbell of the cafe ring and he closed his eyes, muttering a quiet prayer to any literal god out there that existed.

"Oh father who art in–" He yelped as he felt the devil's smooth hand squeeze his shoulder.

"I need you to log out for me, old friend. We really need to talk." Her silver-tongue flapped its venom into his ears as he reluctantly did so at her command, pushing out of his chair and following her to his death.

Mutters from the nerds around them commented about Makima's beauty and why she was in a place like this, but they didn't know. They didn't know that they were in the presence of something evil.

Her black-hair was back, her glasses readjusted. Her outfit consists of a brand new off-white t-shirt, stone-washed jeans and sneakers. The evidence of Tsukauchi's murder likely gone and buried by now.

Makima's kind smile flashed toward him as she gestured to a leather couch in a corner that was far away from the loudness of the main cafe. A little coffee table was in front of it and further ahead - a large plasma screen television playing the latest J-drama. But that wasn't important; surviving this encounter was.

"Hey, long time no see! Hah… Funny finding you here."

"Mmm, indeed. I'm glad you listened. I do appreciate men who obey what I tell them to. Makes things easier and less… violent." She said, crossing her legs and sitting closer to him, her thigh brushing up against his. "Wouldn't you agree, Giran?"

"Absolutely! I…" He gulped - those awful eyes bored into his very soul. "I-I was just making sure no one would hack into the CCTV's!" They both knew he was pulling excuses out of his ass, but if those excuses could lighten the fury of Makima, so be it.

"I thought so. You're really more useful to me with your free will intact." She said, her fingers tracing his chest and rising up to his throat, gently wrapping around it. "I'd hate to see our partnership tarnished because of misunderstandings."

Her light laughter made his blood freeze as she reached for his shades, pulling them off and holding them to the ceiling with a condescending smile. "These for me?" She eyed them, putting them on and humming with mock-approval. "Support items really are an interesting attempt at becoming equal to those with quirks. It's admirable, really. A shame a majority of them are flunks." She shrugged, pocketing his shades into her breast pocket.

He'd worn them in hopes of recording their conversations, to see how she worked her quirk onto people. But a fat load of crap that did for him as she kept hold of it…

"Dirty tricks aside, Giran, I do forgive you for your little stint against me with those old dinosaurs; it was simply too far out of your control. Nothing you could do." She tutted her tongue. "But you did set me back in a plan so meticulous, so finely crafted, that I had to opt for a gungho one. And I do hate being unprepared." She continued with a more colder tone toward him.

"The same could be said about leaking information about my whereabouts; what my name and occupations was; everything crucial to staying under wraps and you gave it to a noisy little gadget fox. A fox that quipped and cried so hard to stay alive."

She led her to me….

"Mmm, and sure enough, I set her loose. Let her lead the breadcrumbs to the leak and there she was - in your apartment, begging and sniveling like the worm she was. And pop, all those mewls, cries, and whimpers dissipated."

Fuck this! Fuck this! She's going to kill me!

There was no way he wasn't getting the Tsukauchi treatment here in a stupid cafe of all things! He had to act!

Giran rose as fast as he could, reaching under his armpit for the shoulder-holstered pistol he had in this situation. He gulped down a thick wad of spit and shouted with what was left of his courage."Go to hell–! HRK!"

His vision blurred and he found himself sitting back down with Makima's palm pinning his chest to the back of the leather couch, its cushioning lessening the shock to his spine. Pain wracked his left hand, rising up like molten lava from the stinging, otherworldly strength Makima had.

"I'll excuse your outburst of desperation, Giran." Her palm left his chest. "It's unbecoming of someone like you." She said with thinly-veiled smugness. Damn her. Damn her to the final pit of hell itself.

Why, why did it have to be him? Why was he the only one who was so close to this monster of a woman?

Tsukauchi… You stupid moron. Why can't you have solved it sooner?!

Now he was left alone with this huge burden. He had no failsafes; no contingencies for a direct confrontation with her; no nothing!

She leaned in closer to his ear, whispering vile poison into it. "I've a favor I'd really like to cash in. Consider it my mercy call for you." Her grip tightened onto his throat, making spots appear in his vision. "Do this and you'll walk scot-free." Her thumb dug into his adam's apple, threatening to push it inwards, causing him to shudder. "Oh, and no leaks; no mutters of who I am to the Pro Heroes; no nothing. Understand?"

He nodded faster than anything. God, he was a coward. But life was more precious. It was a dog-eat-dog world and he wanted to live. If it meant…. If it meant getting out of here alive….

"What do you need?" He whispered out and panted in deep heavy breaths when she let him go, allowing him to massage his throat with a shaky hand. "Anything you need, you'll get it!"

"Twice. I need your friend for tomorrow's main event."

"Ahh… Well, you see, I had Twice already set to work with the League–" Her hand slithered back up to his neck again, making him backpedal. "Jesus, Twice is a special case!" He hissed with wide eyes. "He's really delicate!"

Her strong grip finally lifted its choke hold onto his neck, letting him breathe.

"Twice is nothing I can't handle. I merely need an alibi, and Twice will be perfect for it." She played with his collar, rebuttoning it for him. "Do that and I won't have to kill you."

The way she said so casually in front of him made his entire being shudder with dread. This wasn't going great. But, like the dead man who tried earlier, he needed to know more. More to crack the code.

"Just one teeny question…" He dared to ask as she flicked her eyes back to him, her attention fully locked in on his sweaty-covered face. "Tsukauchi… Why kill him? You've just set off so much shit that'll turn into more shit."

"Too many questions like that are what kills men like him, you know." She teased. "But Twice isn't the only thing I need." Her finger pointed to the many lowlives sitting at their computers. "I need a hacker. The best of the best. One that won't trip any alarms, set off snooping noses, that sort of thing." Makima's calm demeanor didn't soothe his anxiety one bit. He was in an alligator's deathroll, and one simple screw up could be his last.

"Even if I get you your alibi–"

"You mean when you get me my alibi." She corrected him.

"Yes…! H-ha… When I get you Twice and a hacker, what then?" She tilted her head, ready to shoot back with another cryptic bullshit of an answer. He had to get something out of this exchange. "Look, I'm just a concerned guy looking out for you." He lied through his teeth and Makima sure as hell knew it.

"If you go through with whatever you've got cooking at the Festival, it's going to be like ringing the dinner bell to a slaughter house of international Pro Heroes!" He quietly whispered, hoping she'd understand the severity of what she's going to do. "You'll be considered an international terrorist, and treated as such. I'm surprised those other countries haven't already deployed their number one heroes over here…"

She didn't look one bit afraid of his warning - it was like she had nothing left to lose. "Look… If I help you with this, I'm just as fucked as you are. We'll be lucky to even be escorted to Tartarus at the rate you're going. I just… You got Chisaki–" He blurted out something he shouldn't have as her eyes went back to him with great interest. Shit. Fuck. Oh hells.

"So you know about Overhaul?" She smiled, crossing her leg over the other. "How ironic is it that you're closer to cracking the code than Tsukauchi ever was. The criminal information broker smarter than Musutafu's brilliant and renowned Detective."

Makima straddled him, her thighs on opposite sides of his waist. She felt surprisingly light and fragile in his lap. Her hands went to his face, one thumb teasing circles around his eyebrow and the other caressing the scarf around his neck, eying the fabric with slight interest.

If it were any other woman he'd be happy, but the thing in front of him was no mere woman. No, she was a monster. A monster in human form.

She titled his head upwards to meet her gaze. "You should've called him when you had the chance all those months ago. The Yakuza of old wouldn't have been dismantled; Tsukauchi would've been alive; I would be behind bars; you wouldn't have to be complicit in so much blood."

Giran's eyes went as wide as they ever could. "You… You knew–"

His contact, the one he so desperately wanted to call… He should've trusted his gut and figured out Tsukauchi wasn't a patsy, nor poisoned by Makima's influence.

He didn't register her tying his scarf against his throat at first, too gobsmacked by her knowledge.

But he was thrust out of his thoughts when she wrapped the tail end of his scarf around her palm, pulling on it like a collar. She yanked it taut and smiled at his sputter and aghast expression. "But of course. I was so pleased you didn't go through with it. I'd have killed you earlier if you had. But, like all humans, you listened to your fears. Your subconscious, deep down, chose not to betray me."

A lick of that ain't true… He wanted to murmur, but he kept quiet.

"Against your better judgment, you played your cards right. You didn't spill everything to Tsukauchi. Even in the bathroom, you were too afraid to tell him the truth. For that, I am thankful. For that," She leaned in, her breath hitting his ear. "You get to live."

He panted heavily when she let go of his scarf, letting him breathe. Jesus, she's been choking him this whole damn conversation! He'd be blue by the end of it…

"I knew you'd be useful, Giran. You're better if I give you leeway to do what you need to. Even if there were a few hiccups at the time. But you know your place now, don't you?"

He nodded, massaging his throat with a shaky hand, still wondering if she was just playing with his sense of safety. Giran closed his eyes as she settled into his lap more firmly, wrapping her arms around his neck and looking at him.

"So scared of being admonished are you?" Her index finger idly began to encircle his right eye, gently pushing it inwards and he flinched with a thinly concealed whimper. Makima giggled at his reaction and shook her head. "I'm glad we had this talk." Her finger pulled back, stopping at the last moment of potentially gouging his eye. She hopped off him nimbly.

"I need that hacker by tomorrow." She said, taking her eyes off him and checking her phone. "I'll hear from you later. I expect trust." Makima rose off the couch and began walking, not before casting a glance to him behind her shoulder. "Oh, and Giran?"

He looked up, afraid she was just toying with him, expecting to be blown to bits here and now. "Yes?"

"I am so delighted to have met you. Without your help, I'd have not gotten to where I am." She said with a smug smirk.

Makima left him in his thoughts as he cast his head down and thanked whatever celestial being out there for sparing him.

I'm alive….

The clock roared its breath into the air and she yawned, stretching and sighing out a sigh of relief. Today was the day.

Makima rose out from her bed, going to her closet, reaching for a white long-sleeved shirt, a dark, long black trench coat and matching black suit pants. At the bottom of her closet laid out in a neat rack were a variety of shoes.

Canvas, heels, boots, and then there they were - brown oxfords with a fine sheen to them. She smiled and pulled them free from the rack, slipping them on and admiring herself in the mirror as she tucked in her shirt and adjusted her tie.

A knock on her bedroom door took her attention away from her outfit and she walked over with pride to see Shinso on the other side, a canvas bag of his Sports Festival uniform inside, and eyes filled with awe and anticipation.

Her hand wrapped around his wrist, bringing him to the living room of her newest apartment that Giran had given her. A brand new safehouse closer to U.A., which would help her keep close tabs on Shinso's progress.

She sat him down onto the plush, off-white sectional sofa, crossing one leg over the other. She cupped his chin and locked eyes with him. "You'll do absolutely amazing, Shinso. With my influence, you'll undoubtedly come out on top. Have you prepared your speech?"

He beamed at her like a starved pup happy to be given attention to something of little importance.

"Yeah." He scratched the back of his head with a light rosy color to his cheeks.

Shinso babbled on about classes, how he'll do in the first round of the Festival, and other irrelevant things.

She pretended to agree and lavish him with praise and adoration. Nothing of his 'overcoming adversity' with his sob story of a past really intrigued her. She just pretended to act intrigued. Often saying 'ooohs' and 'ahhs' in there for good effect.

It worked in her favor to keep his quirk in check. She can't have him accidentally freeing himself from her control again like last time. Not when they were at the pinnacle of the greatest moment to grace this world.

Makima added in a hug that would soothe the teenager's anxiety as she rubbed her thumb over his cheek.

That would always work; he melted in her arms like putty - reverting back to the shaky pup he had been back at Akiyama's estate. He shuddered like one too, shaking and hyperventilating with pure fear and anxiety. It almost made her feel sorry for him. Almost.

"I'll be watching everything, Shinso. Cheering you on. Just trust the process and the battle tournament, and you'll be just fine. I've made sure of it."

"Do you think…" He averted her gaze, anxious. "What we'll do is worth it? What if–"

"There are no 'what if's', Shinso." She said curtly. "Keep a majority of your quirk's awakened state under wraps until the battle tournament. Endeavor and the others will be keeping a close eye on you."

When he didn't look at her, she kept on, ensuring her words got to him. "A lot of my hope is riding on you, Shinso. You know that, right?"

His eyes widened at that and he nodded his head up and down like a bobblehead. The adorable action made her giggle, which in turn, made him calm down. "Good. I'm happy you understand that."

Positive reinforcement, or social and token reinforcements worked wonders on Shinso. It was amazing how easily a young adolescent's mind could be molded to her whims. All he asked for in return was validation and physical love.

Breaking in his mind and destroying his family made him dependent on her. With nobody else to talk to or speak about his hopes and dreams, she ensured she alone would be his only form of emotional attachment.

Like a little duckling imprinting upon a new mother, Shinso waddled alongside her with adoring eyes. Eyes that saw nothing wrong with her anymore.

Still, his awakened quirk had a few kinks in it that had to be ironed out. Times where he'd regain that bothersome 'free' version of himself that would accuse and mewl about how much of a monster she is.

And if it wasn't Shinso's little episodes, it'd be the other Pro Heroes that acted far too suspicious for their own good.

Endeavor and the rest of those pompous hopeful spirits at U.A. seemed adamant on Shinso not participating in the Sports Festival due to the Control Killer's antics. She had to go through leaps and bounds to get their guard down about 'fairness' and 'equality' to them.

With Principal Nezu's words, they eventually conceded, but not without suspicion. Tsukauchi's disappearance would pop up soon, but by then everything will be too late.

"I… Yeah, you're right. Sorry, Ms. Makima…"

He hesitantly reached out his fingers, wanting to intertwine his fingers in hers and she smiled warmly at it. So dependent. So… pitiful.

Shinso got bolder and wrapped his arms around her and sobbed into the crook of her neck. Dampness could be felt on her shoulder and she had to reciprocate the hug, pulling him tighter against her chest. "I won't let you down. I'll do everything in my power to make sure you'll be happy by the end of this, Ms. Makima!"

"I know you will, Shinso, dear. I know." She watched him pull back and look at her with a sniveling face of snot and hope. "I can't wait for that moment. The moment you bring me what I want."

AN: Tsukauchi... Man, I'd hoped you'd see the forest past the trees of Makima's lies, but it's too late. Now, you can only hope for someone else to pick up that mantle and figure out who, or what, Makima is.

Got some answers from that date, but who will hear of them now that he's... well, you know. And Giran... Oh boy. Should've listened to your gut, my guy. Them online cafes are never a good spot to lay low. Especially when an all-hearing Devil is on the loose.

Anyways, here's the 22nd chapter of A Twisted Influence! I was originally going to post this on Valentine's Day, but work got in the way sadly, bleh.

As always, I appreciate everyone's words for each chapter - they make me laugh and smile XD Really love y'alls adoration for this Makima fanfic.

See y'all next time as we get into the Sports Festival Arc! :D

Also... I'm still perturbed by how weird this site is acting with the latest chapters. Sometimes they go and sometimes they stay. It's infuriating to say the least. Argh, damn you technology!