Drawing felt hard with bandages rolled up all around her arms. She squinted and analyzed her artwork - a simplistic happy stick figure of herself and Ms. Makima stood out in a field of grass.

It was her own little storybook of how Ms. Makima came into her life so suddenly and so beautifully.

The first crunched up page that Eri felt quite proud of detailed Ms. Makima hanging around Mr. Chisaki and his work partners. She tried to make her be the central piece of it all - brightly colored, more detailed than the others that Eri could manage with crayons and her imagination.

At first, she called Ms. Makima the tall skinny lady.

The next page, she scrambled through her drawer for, smiling and putting next to the first, told a simple story of Ms. Makima talking to Eri about things.

Two stick figures of herself and Ms. Makima in a house, with Eri blabbing on about stuff she couldn't remember anymore. There were chains around the woman's waist in the beginning and one of them wrapped around Eri at one point.

Eri made sure to write down questions Ms. Makima asked her when the topic of her powers came about. It sounded super serious. Her handwriting wasn't the best, and one of her caretakers called it chicken scratch at best, but it was her story! She wanted to read it! Not anybody else!

Above Ms. Makima's stick figure had a large smiley face, bright red colored hair, and the three speech bubbles.

"Can you rewind concepts?"

She remembered how Ms. Makima explained that one - saying that if she could use her quirk to rewind something to the point that it never existed. Still confused, Ms. Makima used the examples of her quirk being used on crayons. Asking if her quirk was used, would it cause the entire thing to cease to exist in the first place…

Like a world without crayons, she said. It sounded horrible. She shook her head and that caused Ms. Makima's stick figure in the story to frown, which in turn, hurt Eri's stick figure's heart. Disappointing Ms. Makima didn't feel good.

"Have you tried to use your quirk on a lot of people or things all at once?" Again, Eri's character told her no, and like before, Ms. Makima's frown got bigger. To the point that her whole face was just one upside down smile.

"What happened to your parents - did you forget them after they were erased?"

She still remembered how scary Ms. Makima looked when Eri told her that she didn't want to talk about that scene.

The stick figure in that scene got dark - chains enveloped Eri's own character, the chains warping into the giant circle she made for heads. Ms. Makima made her relive that moment - walking around in her head like some sort of gallery.

Eri drew Ms. Makima's eyes for a whole page - the bright yellow color with lots of red rings in them. The artwork took up the majority of the paper and she had to make a second one of her stick figure sitting alone in a white room of nothing.

It was a room inside of Eri's own head, or maybe it was Ms. Makima's, she couldn't really tell.

The stick-figure story continued - Eri's lined hand reaching onto Ms. Makima's sleeve. It was that moment, she remembered, where she made Ms. Makima gasp and recoil back like Eri had been a plague-bearer.

Lines of smoke and a crudely drawn spider outline behind Ms. Makima disappeared into nothingness.

Eri recalled how Ms. Makima had tried doing something with her hands and speaking out some odd name, and then looking astonished. Mutterings of a grown up word being broken by Eri made her feel scared.

Ms. Makima looked at Eri like Kai Chisaki did then… It felt scary.

Eri didn't want to see that version of Ms. Makima again, and was told that won't ever happen, so long as Eri remained good and didn't tell her the word 'no' anymore and to stay away when she had her quirk enabled.

There were other grown up questions too that Eri couldn't quite answer or remember. Ms. Makima had black hair then with glasses, and she egged Mr. Chisaki to see her more and more after hearing and seeing her quirk in action.

But after a while, she and Ms. Makima became really good friends after repeated visits! She started up a new page, eager to show it off.

Eri felt pretty giddy about its brightened hues she used with the crayons she'd gotten. For a little dash of extra joy, she added in a faded yellow sun in the upper right corner. The final finish to it would have to be a rainbow. No reason not to use all the crayons at her disposal, right?

The tall skinny lady, which she used to call Ms. Makima because there was no name at the time, had been immensely kind to her. Kinder than even the caretaker who would occasionally bring in new crayons.

Mr. Chisaki and Hari kept telling her to not get too attached to her though. Saying weird stuff that she was worse than them. It was a lie. It had to be. How could she not like Ms. Makima? The lady was higher up in her box of people she didn't have to be scared of.

Safe to say that Ms. Makima was at the top of the list of best people in the world. Yeah, no way anybody could top that.

Eri hummed as she filled in the stick-figures with color - adding in Ms. Makima's black pants and substituting red with pink since the crayon had whittled down to the nub.

Her tiny feet kicked up in the air as she lay on her stomach, continuing to draw swirls for the grass, a couch where they could watch movies or relax in the sun.

In her mind, details like that would surely earn a few praises, so she added in more things that Ms. Makima would compliment her for - things like 'I'm proud of you', 'I like that part', and her most favorite 'You're a good girl.'

It made her feel loved and appreciated. Not seen as something more than a useful ability with a quirk.

My quirk… She had been constantly told it was special by Mr. Chisaki and that once his job was finished, he'd no longer have to use needles.

Her quirk… it did something weird every time she activated it. Those happy memories of Ms. Makima would fade in her head. The thoughts of Ms. Makima's gentleness just whisked off like it was never there in the first place.

Eri couldn't describe it, but every time Ms. Makima patted her head when she came to visit, that loving feeling came back. That feeling of joy and appreciation just booming into her chest. It felt good. It felt safe.

Ms. Makima wouldn't lie to her. She'd never! She was one of the good older people. Nothing like Mr. Chisaki. He was a monster compared to her.

She let her braid that cool red hair of hers, which had been something she's always wanted to do! Her hair smelt nice too, like fresh flowers on a cool sunny day.

The door to her room creaked open, signaling the caretaker was coming in. She hid a squeak of surprise, rising and scrunching the drawing behind her back. Hiding it in case the caretaker would toss it into the trash.

But behind the muscular man, was a red hue of hair and she immediately beamed with happiness. Yes! She's visiting again today!

She dropped the crayons and ran with as much speed as she could muster. Her feet pitter-pattering against the cool cement flooring while she tackled the front of Ms. Makima's legs, pushing her face into the front of her waist.

"Ms. Makima! You're here?! Why? No… wait, c'mere!" She pulled back, tugging on her white sleeve over to the mini table she had, pulling out a tiny chair for her to sit on. "You're going to like this. I worked really hard and added coloring. I added sunshines–"

A pale finger shushed her and Ms. Makima chuckled. "It's alright, Eri. Take your time. I'm not in a hurry this time."

Eri's face lit up. No way. This can't be real. Usually Ms. Makima would only get five minutes. "Then… Can you stay the whole day?"

"I can't, Eri."

Oh.

She pouted and kicked at nothing, averting her gaze. "But you said you're not in a hurry…."

"I know, Eri. It's a shame. A real bad one too. Which is why I'm here in hopes you can convince Chisaki to listen to my requests."

She looked up, her red eyes boring into Ms. Makima's. She was so pretty. "I don't wanna… The needles–"

"If you can just endure the needles, the blood draws, and everything else, I promise you we'll play lots and lots." Ms. Makima's hand tucked some of Eri's hair behind her ear. "This for that. Think of it as a guarantee."

"Gua–huh?"

"Oh, a promise." She amended. "If you promise to be a good girl." Eri's face smiled at that word. "And listen to Chisaki's requests, he'll be nice to me. So nice that I'll get what I want."

"Really…?" Eri always wondered what Ms. Makima wanted, but from what she could tell, it had to be out of this world good.

"Really. But I'm having a hard time getting to him. He keeps saying I'm too mean. Too crazy." She laughed and Eri joined in. "So absurd, hm?"

"Ms. Makima isn't any of those things. Least of all mean!" Her head got patted and she leaned into it.

"I agree. Which is why I'm hoping…" Ms. Makima scooted closer, whispering. "You'd do this favor for me. From one good soul to another?"

"I just have to listen to Chisaki…?"

She nodded, "That and more. Can you?"

Eri's mind chose the obvious route. Of course she'd help out her friend! She was always nice to her, so it was only good to do the same. "We'll get to play lots after?"

"Definitely after. And only… after."

"Then I'll do it! For Ms. Makima! Now, let's draw!" Eri handed her a crayon.

Makima had some reservations about this child, but it proved all too easy to get the kid on her side.

Being deprived of love and an actual parental figure did wonders for Makima. She had to thank Chisaki for being so abhorred by this girl. It sped up her process of easing herself into the girl's life; lavishing her with praise and attention that she'd lower her guard down.

A few crumbs of attention was all it took for Eri to be a mini pomeranian eating out of her hand with dedication. Makima could tell the girl to do a backflip, and she'd happily do her best to do it.

She patted and let Eri clamber into her lap, letting the girl go crazy about her drawings and day. This was part of her deal to secure aid from the Shie Hassakai - playing pretend mother to a parentless child.

So long as Chisaki got his promised compliant prize, she'd get his support.

"Boss, are you still sure about this whole gig? It reeks of a setup at the end of the day." Irinaka grumbled over his shoulder. Chisaki paid him no mind as the easily-irritable man rambled on about the many hypotheticals that could happen with their current partnership with Makima.

The woman was currently in his compound, being the best version of a parent to Eri that she could be. In turn, Eri would comply and become a bloodbank for him to continually draw from.

Irinaka kept whispering the idea of crushing Makima while she was still in the compound. He'd use his ability to crush her to a paste and that he'd easily just reassemble Eri who happened to be there.

Though, from what he's been told, the woman had an insane regeneration quirk. One that could recoup in a matter of seconds. That little tip from Giran proved useful, though the man seemed unreliable after a while.

Like he'd gone mad, so there was no point in dealing with a lunatic.

Chisaki held a bullet containing the serum in his fingers, inspecting it with an analytic eye. They were carefully crafted with precision and refined to its utmost perfection. He begrudgingly had to thank that psychopath Makima for that though. Without her, his progress in Eri's quirk wouldn't have been sling-shot forward seventy-five percent completion.

She was unlike the rest of the plebians who touted that they'd fix this world with so many useless propositions. Quirk laws, which a majority of them were nullified when it came to those in power; banning quirks, a plan never ever to see the light of day; all of those ideas proved fruitless to him.

The erasure drug, however… It worked - through and through. It disabled people's quirks without fizzling out from their body in a few seconds. With MK. II, the dosage was higher and more potent. The only trade-off was how long it took to take effect.

To him, it would serve as the first step to a better and more world free of ridiculous quirks. Sure, Makima had set his own plan back by eradicating a majority of the old families that once ruled the underworld of Musutafu, but they could be brought back into the fold with his leadership.

Hell, she'd actually gotten rid of the more stubborn old guard of the Yakuza who'd not listen to him while she was at it. Now, he'd have access to the newbloods, who in turn, could easily be swayed to an expanded version of the Shie Hassaikai.

There were positives to this alliance between himself and Makima. He recalled how she'd sniffed around his compound a long while back. She popped up, offering her services in exchange for support for an insidious plan.

She became a quick favorite to Eri - the girl blabbering about how attentive Makima was to her drawings, words, and feelings. He had no doubt the woman had ulterior motives - likely seeing the girl as a means to an end, same as him. There was no pity in those eyes of hers.

Makima wore a mask, it seemed. A mask of deceit and psychopathic tendencies.

"Go and head to the stadium, Irinaka. I'm sure the crowds are starting to get a line set up for seating, so it'd be wiser to get in earlier."

The short-tempered mimic growled and hissed out some expletives about Makima while trudging out of the office, slamming the door behind him.

After the festival was over, his partnership with her would nullify and he'd no longer have to deal with her. A simple transaction, that she will honor, one way or another.

Opening the door and being welcomed in an all too familiar face, albeit with a black surgical mask, was amusing to Makima. Having what she likened to be the most reasonable of that dying breed of Yakuza was breathtaking.

Possessing a similar goal of fixing what was wrong with this world made their cooperation almost instantaneous had it not been for his spite and venom aimed at her for certain altercations. Altercations mainly involving a certain someone in his entourage.

The smell of hand-sanatizer and aloe vera littered his body from head to toe, and it made him unmistakable to miss wherever he was. It stung her nose at times with the concoction of hygienic anti-bacterial soaps.

He glared at her with utter disgust and open disdain when his little experiment clung to her with a happy giggle. The young Yakuza wasn't happy with the idea of Eri running around the compound, so seeing her in his office set off a ticking bomb of irritability inside him

This child, so frail and innocent, made it her mission to stay locked into the front of her thighs. Those red eyes looked up at her with hope and trust. Trust that likely Chisaki never had.

Eri - Kai Chisaki's ace in the hand - was glued to Makima like caramel to an apple.

"Ms Makima said it was okay for me to follow…" Eri said, giggling into the front of Makima's legs and clutching onto her right thigh like a koala. "Did… you like the drawing I made?"

Makima's mind had to register the irrelevant stick drawing of herself and Eri smiling with a horrific background of some sort. "But of course, Eri. You're getting better and better. Keep it up, mm?"

"Yeah!" Eri sounded satisfied and grinned to herself, mirth welling up into her innocent mind at being appreciated.

Showing even the slightest bit of motherly love proved very beneficial indeed. Eri's mind was as open as it could be to her. It was like finding a diamond among boring pebbles of rocks when she first met the girl.

Kai's ability proved interesting as well. The ability to reshape and remold anything back together sounded like a godsend. Though, it's obvious there's other properties to it. Properties that Kai doesn't want to share at all.

Complete disintegration of matter with his bare hands. That sounded like a problem to her if he laid hands on Eri or Shinso for that matter. Those two were pivotal to the Sports Festival, and she can't have him finding any leverage to use against her.

Behind him at his desk, a man with pointed eyebrows and chin-length hair formed into clock needles. Her research into the Shie Hassakai deduced that this was Hari Kurono. Kai Chiskai's assistant and right-hand man.

She did know that his quick was excellent at immobilization. Combined with Overhaul, there was no telling how much he'd set her back if she tried anything here alone with the two.

"Care to explain why you've come to me with Eri on such short notice?" Chisaki said, snapping her out of her thoughts. "I said you could have your little playdate. But I didn't say anything about bringing said playdate up here where she could get ideas."

"So you did, but I figured it'd do good for Eri to get out of the stuffy room she was in. She's curious is all."

"Uh-huh. Well, consider it duly noted and ignored. Hari, call Eri's caretaker and have him escort her back to the room."

"On it." Hari pulled a flip phone from his pocket and spoke into it.

Chisaki waved Hari to take the conversation further away, but close enough to intervene should things arise. "Aside from the obvious stint you're trying to brew in my prize, why'd you come here?"

"A change of plans - Tsukauchi's been dealt with prematurely."

The young Yakuza's eyes widening didn't go unnoticed by her. Shaking his head, he pulled away from his desk and stood up, pacing back and forth with his right hand massaging his temples, he groaned. "A little something like that could have easily been told over the phone or through a couple of cryptic text messages."

"We both know those are being monitored now more than ever. It would be too stupid to try. Endeavor's already snooping where he shouldn't. The HPSC won't be too far behind him."

"You do realize what you've done, don't you?"

"That I do. Which is why I'm having you and Irinaka, who I don't see with you by the way, be at your stations much sooner than previously planned."

"Irinaka's busy worming his way into the spot you wanted him to be." He retorted quickly. "People will ask questions about Tsukauchi. They aren't dumb."

"I very much doubt people will think of him during the buzz of the entire festival. They're much too busy gawking at the next generation of heroes." Her hands found themselves under Eri's armpits, lifting her up and packing her around the office room, letting the little girl play with her braid.

That earned another tremble in the man's frame, his eyes narrowing at her hands. Hari's hair poked out, poised to strike and she closed her eyes with a chuckle. "I mean no harm to her."

"Sure you do." Chisaki rolled his eyes. "I want to have permanent compliance over Eri once this is over and a favor from you when I want it."

"Don't you worry, I'll hand over her leash once your job is finished. Just have yourself and Irinaka ready. Same goes for you, Hari." The assistant's body twitched just briefly. "We do need you on hand to disable Cementoss when the time comes."

"Tch…. I answer to Chisaki. Not you."

"Yet he serves me, which in turn means you ought to do the same." She waved off the feeble attempt of a retort.

"And what's stopping us from being done with your plan right now?" Hari shot back with a glare that frightened Eri, the girl trying to cling tighter and hide in the crook of Makima's neck with a quiet whimper. "Your plan is madness and I'm surprised you even managed to consider it with Chisaki."

"Forget it." Chisaki's eyes narrowed at Hari's attempts of persuasion. "She says she'll get us into I-Island when this is all said and done."

Hari's breath hitched at the revelation. "I-Island, sir…? So you mean the–"

Chisaki's hand went up to stop his man from saying more in front of her, though his minion had already said too much.

The mythical ever-moving island whose security was on par with that of Tarturus. The holy land of prototypes and unheard of tech unseen by the rest of the world. What Chisaki wanted with it, she had no clue, but she had an inkling it involved some sort of genetic weapon involving Eri. Her blood and quirk was too special to not exploit further.

"You know, I would be happy to help with that excursion in the future–"

"I'll think about it." Was all what Chisaki said before shifting the topic back to the matter at hand, pointing to the window outside of his compound - its view offering a glimpse to quiet suburban streets outside.

"Me and the others here will be out of the situation by the time our part is done, got that?" He pointed to the stadium next that can be seen in the distance a few miles off.

"I'd still like you to be on hand if things go awry."

"And what's the guarantee that I won't be swarmed by the mob of Pros by the time your plan comes to fruition?"

"They'll be too busy to pay you any mind, of that, I assure you."

"Too risky. I'd rather keep a hold of my safety once it all goes to hell."

"A shame… I suppose I won't be getting that trip to I-Island like–"

Chisaki's eyes narrowed at her words, cutting them off."Fine. C'mon, Hari. Get the equipment started in the lab." He asked, the clockwork assistant nodding and bidding them to follow.

"I'd like at least two doses of that serum."

"You said you only wanted one; who's the other for?" Chisaki's eyes narrowed with growing suspicion.

"For safety purposes more than anything. I'll be amongst them all, so I'd like a contingency against Pros more equipped to easily incapacitate me."

"And those would be?"

"If I told you, who's to say you won't just figure out my weakness?" She giggled at the click of his tongue as he hooked Eri up to the machine that would provide her two contingencies for the festival.

Soon, she'd finally have what she's longed for. Everyone had their parts, and it was all or nothing at this point. Makima could practically taste heaven at this point with how smooth everything's going so far.

Chisaki sighed heavily, having to keep an eye on Hari so he'd not lose the man while they waded through the sweaty, stinking crowds of idiots who were waiting in line to be seated. He looked at his throwaway phone for the digital ticket that Makima had provided for them.

The stupid website was not at all functioning as it took forever to load up. It made a vein pop up in his head, testing his patience. Finally, it showed where he had to be.

They were seated in some stashed away location higher up in the stadium - row H, 322; row H, 323.

Outside of the stadium's precinct, a whole slew of food vendors took their chance to try and set up where the public would most likely be. Offering estranged prices with gaudy decorations and greasy foods; visiting Pro Heroes standing around, flexing their muscles, signing autographs while people waited in line sickened him.

When it was announced that seating would be open, the line finally moved after what felt like eons. His legs aching from standing forever.

Bodies squeezing past one another made his skin flare up again with hives.

Disease-riddled is what they were, he thought. There was no sustainable way a person with squid-like features on their face could ever be truly clean after a shower. Nor would a person made of a literal fork live life normally. What if rust became an issue, what then?

Chisaki clicked his tongue and shook his head, ignoring the many stares from the other eager parents, friends, and fans of this audacious annual event.

Entering the interior of the stadium felt like walking into a breezy beach home - the AC cranked up to eleven while various food-stalls lined up to offer outrageously priced beverages and snacks. He ushered Hari along, heading to the elevators where they'd be taken up to their assigned seats.

Chisaki chased after an open elevator, but the crowd was quicker. Piling in like sardines as he politely asked for them to hit the button to semi-highest level.

"Ouch, buddy." A stocky man said with a cheshire grin. "Highest level - how are you gonna see the action, with binoculars?" He laughed, with a few of the others joining in with a few chuckles. Chisaki rolled his eyes and ignored it. The higher up he was, the less likely he'd be in the chaos.

The official Sports Festival wouldn't start for another hour or so, which meant he'd be stuck seeing the practice stuff; the sponsorship mentions and gratitudes, and more. Which meant more time being stuck with Hari in a festering pool of germs…

"Why yes, I am sure that we will be just fine, Madam. Yes, yes. I understand." Nezu's calm replies likely eased what Makima could assume was the HPSC representative. A bothersome group of people covered head to toe in encryptions, dark silhouettes, and no names.

She patted the top of the rodent's head, treating him more as a pet mouse than anything that hummed and stood on his tiptoes to push the front of his forehead into her palm. He kept the mystery representative on the offensive, shooting her reasonable explanations of why the Sports Festival will continue without additional support from the air.

Makima made him throw All-Might and Endeavor's name in for good effect and it quickly muzzled the insistent woman on the other side of the call.

"With those two, our event will be the safest there ever is in this city. You have nothing to fear." He calmly said, pacing back to his desk, hopping up into a large chair and reaching for a cup of tea.

"No, no, Hawks won't be needed. Mtn. Lady will be providing on-site surveillance alongside Death Arms and Kamui Woods."

"No choice…? He's already on his way?" Nedzu's beady eyes shot a wary glance towards Makima's way. "Oh dear. Well, I suppose the people do like an up and coming Pro to be a representation of the next generation." "If it eases the committee then I guess I will concede just this once. Oh, yes! Ha-ha! We'll have him give a show for the half-time portion of the games."

The call ended and Nedzu sighed, taking a sip of his coffee and shivered when Makima's fingers scratched his chin. "I couldn't shake them off. They got awfully insistent that Hawks be present for 'air-survelliance' if you could believe it."

"Mmm… Sounds more like a plant than anything for their eyes and ears. Give him that half-time warm-up regime before the tournament rounds begin. It'll wear him out. I need the skies clear of any would-be flying Pro Heroes."

"And what of Aizawa? Present Mic would no doubt catch on immediately since, if you're not aware, the two are very good friends. Those types tend to catch on quickly if they see even the slightest bit of difference in attitudes or mannerisms."

"He'll do his part, you have no need to worry. But you on the other hand," Her fingers deftly went behind his ear, offering the sensitive spot a few generous scritches. "Will continue to be a wonderful figurehead, won't you?"

Nezu sighed dreamily and nodded. "Of course! Anything to ensure you bring absolute bliss to this event."

"Mmm, good. Have you gotten what I wanted?"

"To take care of Cementoss…?" The rodent flinched at her quick glance shot his way. "Ha, I wish I could be of use, but alas what you ask of me is nigh on impossible to achieve. Your shooter, wherever they'll be in the crowd, will have to make the shot of their life to temporarily ease him out of the final portion of the game."

"Is he a fan of beverages, foods, or snacks perhaps?" She asked, sitting on the edge of his desk.

"Well, he is very fond of manju." Nedzu shook his head and sipped more at his mug of tea. "But he'd never eat it during the games. Only on breaks."

"That's perfect. When will he go on those?"

"Only after each section of the games are finished."

"Then have him take a mandatory break with the others during the commercial breaks and such."

"I understand Mr. Ishiyama is a great obstacle to your well-crafted mission, but are you certain he is critical to it? Can't I simply ask him to be stationed outside and have another teacher sub in for him?"

"No. Cementoss is too big of an obstacle to be pushed to the outside of the stadium. He'd simply use his quirk to counter an acquaintance of mine's own ability when given the chance. I need him out of the game completely."

"The other teachers will notice if I ask him to be removed or sent off somewhere when he's been the referee for several games prior. We can't take out an old guard just like that."

"You know… For a rodent, you're being awfully bold in telling me 'no' in an intellectual manner."

"I'm simply offering a valuable insight into your goals. A grand plan can't be grand if it doesn't have valid criticisms or leaks that ought to be fixed."

"Then we'll just have to go with the manju option. Make sure he's there at the breakroom. Insist on him getting a break if he so much as refuses." Their conversation quickly ended when the door opened and the two saw a very exasperated Toshinori Yagi trudge in and plop himself into the soft leather of a couch in the Principal's office.

"We talking of breaks, huh?" He said tiredly, smiling at her and offering a brief wave to Nezu. Her being froze just lightly at that all-too familiar scent wafting up her nose: A fruity note of kiwi and dash of peppermint.

She couldn't forget it even if she tried to.

There he was - that skeletal man dressed in a navy blue suit and white business shirt layered underneath with matching pants and black dress shoes.

'Don't bottle up your emotions.' That note he'd given her a long time ago popped up into her mind.

He'd hugged her - a hug so free of malice, ulterior motives, and lust - that it seemed alien. Nobody hugs anybody without expecting something in return. Nobody did. Not ever in this world or the next.

And yet….

That ugly, sliver of a pitiful feeling began welling up in her chest, threatening to rise up her throat.

"Why yes," Makima adjusted her glasses, standing straighter and reaching for her clipboard of menial detective tasks she's assigned herself. "It is my first Sports Festival, and the Principal here's just telling me of how hard-working Cementoss gets in-between rounds."

"Hah. Yeah, he focuses on that type of stuff." He leaned forward, resting his palms on his knees. "Hey, get this, Endeavor's wanting some of the guys to sweep the rounds in shorter intervals. Says he saw some suspicious characters the other day with Burnin'. Wants to be extra cautious because of it."

Makima's eyes narrowed at that new bit of information. "Since when was that a thing?"

"I don't know, but he's really into the whole Control Killer shtick since Tsukauchi's invited him along into the case." He looked around, peering past Hayakawa's form. "Speaking of which, where is the guy? Thought he'd be wringing Nezu here dry of more security measures."

"He said he'll be here shortly; said he'd take care of some last minute things at the station."

"Huh… Well, I was hoping he'd be around so I can ask him about something." The man shrugged and groaned upon rising up from his seat. "I thought I could talk to Nezu in private, if I could, Ms. Hayakawa?" He scratched his head, hoping she'd agree.

"Sure. Take all the time you need. I'll go and see what Endeavor's doing." She did a quick bow and left them, eager to leave and let that awful feeling die down in her chest.

"My thanks. Talk to ya later, Ms Hayakawa." He smiled lightly and gave her a wave before pulling up a chair to Nezu's desk.

Makima would simply ask Nezu later on what Toshinori was asking about if it was about Tsukauchi's absence or any suspicion on his part. Ensure nothing out of the ordinary had slipped from yesterday's mishap.

After all, Giran knew better than to squeak out any details.

"You can do this; you made a promise to her." Shinso whispered to himself as slapped his cheeks hard and cupped a bit of cool water from the sink, splashing it into his face.

The cold provided a brief comfort when the heat in his cheeks finally died down, allowing the tremors in his hands to still. It was happening again. That weird anxiety attack of his as he clutched at his heart, pushing his back up against the navy blue lockers behind him.

Those horrific nightmares he'd told her about kept popping in and out of his vision. Brief flashes of two random people inside his own home dead and brutalized; a muscular woman punching him endlessly in a dark room; a kitchen floor sullied by copious amounts of blood that wasn't his own.

Deep breathes. Deep breaths…. Just like Ms. Makima told you to do. They're just nightmares. They're not real.

The thought of her smile and soothing voice - those kind hugs helped build up a warmth inside his stomach. When he'd close his eyes, all he could think and see was Ms. Makima. If it wasn't for her, he'd not have made it past the exams; the physical tests; the anxiety attacks; everything was thanks to her.

He can't let her down now! Not now when she's the one who's asking for a favor! In return, he'd get more hugs; more affirmations; more affection; more attention; more praise; more appreciation.

The episode finally died down and he breathed out a shaky sigh of relief. He took another deep, slow breath before swinging the door open.

His breath shuddered at the thought of it. Shinso couldn't handle it anymore! His heart ached in homesickness - he briskly walked back to his assigned locker, searching for his canvas bag and unzipping it for his phone.

Opening it, he'd see the lockscreen he'd kept at bay from her eyes; a picture he'd taken of Ms. Makima. She always told him not to have pictures of her real features; only ones of her Hayakawa identity. But she just seemed more reliable and beautiful in her natural hair color.

He'd taken it in secret - the only frame of her seen through an ajar door - her red hair cascading around her shoulders as it was let down from its braid; her loose white business shirt's hem hanging over the upper half of her creamy thighs which had been freed from her slacks; long luscious legs free of any blemishes; her yellow eyes staring at something in her own room.

But what made it so special was how happy she looked at the wall in this photo. He dared not to tread inside, fearing admonishment. He respected her privacy…! He'd never betray her trust. Never.

But it pricked at his heart when she'd brought along some stray. Someone who seemed way too pitiful and useless to her. The thought that she let that girl get to bask in attention and love as she points to photographs on the wall.

Those weekends made his entire being fill with something he'd never felt before. A feeling he never experienced with anybody.

Jealousy.

It bothered him.

That girl, whose name he never cared to learn, clung to Ms. Makima's thigh like it was her lifeline. The way Makima petted her head and said sweet things to her. What made her so special? What made her so great to be held and picked up in Ms. Makima's arms?!

Shinso's fists clenched into his palms, his nails digging into flesh in anger.

Yet he wondered if it were pictures of him. A surge of joy jolted through his entire spine at the thought. He loved Makima, he really did. She's done everything and anything for him. Shinso felt nothing but gratitude for the woman who went leaps and bounds to ensure he'd be happy.

It was his turn, though. His turn to repay the favor with this monumental task of reaching the tournament portion of the festival.

He turned the phone off, waiting for the screen to fade to black before placing it back into his back. Today was just the start - he'd race off against others.

Avoid the robots, keep his quirk under wraps, and don't bring too much attention to himself. Shinso could do that. No, he will do it! With Makima's eyes and dreams riding on his back, he can't fail. Not ever.

He dug his fingers into his palms though, a migraine forming into his head, wanting to spread another false memory to life. It didn't happen. None of it did.

Makima made him who he is today. Shino owed everything to that woman. He'd do anything to make sure she smiled genuinely by the end of this.

Shinso repeated his mantra to himself, manifesting his predetermined destiny to help Makima attain her dream.

Do it for her, Shinso. Do it for Makima.

AN:So, hear me out, I actually have a valid excuse this time! XD

I've been dealt a low blow by fate itself with the flu going around my community, and low and behold, it has rendered me ineffective for writing... Take that as you may.

Anyways here's the 23rd chapter of ATI! Apologies for the long wait - Flu's a helluva thing to a poor human like me with a weak constitution.

Now, we're here. In the Sports Festival~! So happy. So ecstatic! GAHHH!

Until we meet again, fellow Makima connoisseurs! As always, I love reading your comments and insights into this story of mine. Fills this one's heart with joy! Makes me wonder what shall ever happen next in the following chapters!

Also, still worrying about that whole shtick of chapters not showing up. Freaking technology... Here's hoping it won't fuzz up this chapter (which it will inevitably do).