“So.” One long, pale finger traced the rim of the whiskey glass, red eyes lazy in their scrutiny. Hikiishi swallowed, crossing one leg over the other, beginning to wonder if this was such a good idea. She’d heard stories about this man, how temperamental he was. How he could be violent on a whim, without any warning. Certainly that dead hand over his face was offputting. “You want in on the League, correct?”
She nodded, tucking her hair behind her ear.
“Well, I heard that Stain-” She caught the way his finger paused, those eyes slightly narrowed, and immediately backpedalled. “I heard that there was a movement dedicated to tackling the unfairness of hero society, and I want to join the fight.”
“You want to become a villain?”
She took a breath. “It wouldn’t be the first time I’ve committed a crime.”
“Oh?” Shigaraki sat up, looking intrigued. “Do tell.”
“I have had to steal, in the past… multiple times. And I have a history of violence against people who… disrespect me. Three of them didn’t get up after I beat them into the dirt.” Just thinking about them made her angry all over again, fingers twitching.
Shigaraki chuckled softly, slowly. “Good, good. What’s your quirk?”
“It’s called Magnetism. I can polarise men and women with north or south magnetic fields. It’s quite powerful.”
His eyes narrowed again, and he leaned forwards. “Is that so?”
She felt the hairs on the back of her neck prickle, and rubbed her wrist nervously. “Is that not… good enough?”
“Can you use it on yourself?”
“No.” She practically whispered. She did not want to explain why that was a good thing.
“And if I let you in?” His voice was a soft, dangerous lilt now. “What does a man like yourself-”
“A woman.” She muttered, barely audibly. He paused, and her hands tightened into fists on her lap, bracing herself.
“I’m a woman.” She said a little louder, trying her best to sound brave. He tilted his head to one side, considering her for a moment that felt like it dragged on for a lifetime.
“…A woman like yourself hope to accomplish by joining us?” He finished. She frowned, and looked up at him.
“You don’t care?”
“About your gender? No. Answer the question.”
“Well, I-” She sat up a bit straighter, emboldened by Shigaraki’s dismissal. “I’m sick and tired of a society that treats me like I shouldn’t exist. Every time someone on the street gives me a look, or yells a slur, every time I feel like I can’t do something perfectly normal and everyday because for people like me it’s putting myself in the line of fire, I get so angry I feel sick. I hate this society that treats me like shit for existing and I want the public who are guilty of it and the heroes who are complicit in it to suffer for making my life hell.” She took a breath, and glanced up at him. His eyes were shining, and behind the hand she was sure he was grinning.
“I like you.” He purred, and tilted his head to one side. “But I am curious about something. Can you really not use your quirk on yourself, or do you just not want to?”
“I genuinely can’t.” She insisted. “But even if I could, I don’t think I would.”
“Because you think it’ll get it wrong?”
She sighed, and admitted quietly, “Because I think it’ll tell me I’m wrong.”
Shigaraki made a disdainful sound and stood up, standing in the centre of the empty bar and holding out his arms. “Use it on me.”
“Use it on me. I want to see what it does.”
“Well… It won’t do much since you’re the only person in here.”
“Just do it.” He snapped in irritation, and she held up a hand.
“Okay, okay.” With a thought, she polarised him, and he studied his own hands and the blue aura around them.
“What does this mean?” He asked.
“It means you’re magnetic now.”
He wandered over to a bar stool, and seemed to be amused by the way his hand wanted to stick to it. “Am I north or south?”
“You’re south. All men are.”
“Well there’s your answer then.” He said flippantly. She frowned.
“About whether or not your quirk would get it wrong. There’s your answer.”
“I- I don’t understand.” She watched him straighten up, and then he pulled up his shirt. She stared at his bare chest, at the myriad of scars that decorated his pale skin- including two very distinctive lines over his ribs. “You’re-?” She breathed.
“If your quirk’s happy with me being a guy it’ll be happy with you being a girl. Quit stressing.”
“But you- How did you get treatment?” She asked as he let it fall again, staring at him. He took his seat again. “You’re a villain, you can’t just wander into a hospital and get it done!”
“Oh, Sensei arranged it. Him and the doctor. He didn’t care, in fact he encouraged it. Testosterone makes you physically stronger, you know? And the doctor couldn’t wait to have me under the knife, really. I wouldn’t be surprised if some freaky shit develops over time because he fucked with my insides whilst I was getting it done.”
She winced. “Are you serious?”
“Yeah. Sensei said he forbade him from fucking with me but he’s a sneaky bastard. Whatever it is I just hope I don’t lose my mind.”
“Right…” She tried not to think too hard about the implications of that. “So… could I get some treatment, too?”
He shrugged. “Can’t promise anything, but I can ask. Regardless, the League won’t give two shits about what you choose to call yourself, how you dress or whatever, and you can feel free to grind some bigoted shitheels into the dust with me, if you like.”
She laughed, unable to believe quite how this had turned out. “Yeah. Okay. I like the sound of that.”
“Alright.” Shigaraki held out a hand, pinky finger outstretched away from the rest. Welcome to the League…?”
She grinned widely, and shook his hand. “Magne.”
“Magne.” He drawled, letting her go. “You’ll fit right in here.”