Weeks passed and (M/N)'s overall condition seemed to have improved, so much so that it was safe to say that despite the initial suspicions of Shioto's methods, the turnout was better than expected.

(M/N) was no longer a sad sack of skin and bones, but rather, a livelier person, one that was more pleasant to be around. Since the chronic aches in her back and joints are gone, and the newly formed blemishes are clear for the most part, she finds herself interacting with the people around her more, associating and stirring up small talk, going out to business lunches with fellow coworkers, sometimes even staying to drink a little before heading home. Maybe it was because she learned to appreciate what she had more, or it was just an enigmatic high produced by the drug she was taking and learning to adjust to, but either way, she was happy.

However, a small voice in the back of her head nags at this sudden prosperity and shakes its head at the spontaneous nature of the luck. Soon enough, (M/N) begins to see things from its perspective. Within all this joy and good fortune, she can't help but suspect that this sudden change in her lifestyle was caused by something that wasn't exactly advocating for her good will -- the calm before the storm, some might claim. And after everything that's happened to her and her family, you can't exactly blame the woman for trusting her gut feeling. 

So subsequently, like any rational thinker, (M/N) conducts a brainstorming session to recollect all her memories from the past month: what her routine was, who she interacted with, what major events had occurred, et cetera. She thinks that if she can pinpoint the places, people, and things that are responsible for her currently positive outlook on life, she can also find outliers and the more dubious causes. 

Included in this small range of things were: (Y/N)'s academic, social, and mental progressions, her recent promotion, the ridiculously good takoyaki she'd gotten from a newly opened shop down the street, discussing key episodes in an upcoming animation with her colleagues and-

Shioto's pills. 

This thought strikes her in the middle of sending over a couple of final drafts to her boss. Her fingers freeze at the keyboard and the sudden urge to vomits arises, but she manages to hold it in. Thickly swallowing, (M/N) hurries to open up another tab and begins to do an investigation of her own. 

Oh, how she hopes that this will help get things back on track again -- the older woman doesn't want to spend all day worrying about this situation, no matter how foolish she may have been. 

Pink unbranded pills for stress relief, (M/N) types into the search bar, hoping for some relief to come her way. 

She clicks the image tab of her searching browser once the pages load, only to find that every picture of a pink pill either has a branding, or looks nothing like the drug Shioto gave her. Continuing to scroll for the next ten minutes, clicking on articles, skimming through any verifiable source that she can find, all (M/N) is able to do is run into dead-ends -- no leads, nothing to fact-check what the affects of the medication was, or what Shioto said it was used for. 

A feeling of worry makes room for itself deep within the pits of her stomach. 

And it doesn't take long to settle either, unfortunately, as her office doors open within seconds of this sensation.

"Hey (M/N), don't want to intrude but- oh Jesus Christ, are you okay?" At the entrance stands a the director for an upcoming animation, a tall, fairly young, black-haired male, dressed in black slacks and a striped dress shirt only half tucked-in. A pair of thin-rimmed glasses dangle from the bridge of his nose and almost drop to the floor when he pauses to take in the sight of his burnt-out colleague. "You look so... tired. Is everything alright?" 

The older woman wishes to make an excuse, but find that no words escape her mouth when she opens it. When she doesn't respond, only standing there, frightened, the director notices this and immediately rushes over, propping his senior up on her desk and making sure she's stable. 

"(M/N), I'm being serious when I ask this -- you look like you've seen a ghost. Is everything alright?" She simply nods her head, gripping onto the ledge of the table with such might her knuckles turn white and the pads of her fingers a bright yellow. The director stays by her side momentarily, until she can hold her own again. As (M/N) starts to stabilize, she miraculously finds her voice and begins to speak in small gasps. 

"E-Everything's fine. I've... just been- just been-" she stutters, trying to make sense of the information whizzing around in her head, "I just found-"

Suddenly, the door to her office creaks open, an unwelcome visitor inviting themselves in and cutting off her struggling speech.

Shioto pops into the room, wholly expecting that (M/N) is alone.

"Hello (M/N)!- Oh, Director." The junior sounds almost disappointed at the male's presence. The director seems relieved at the younger female's appearance, as the predicament with (M/N) was becoming too overbearing too quickly. 

"Hey Shioto, it's nice to see you. No need to be so formal, just call me Genki. I feel kind of old if you keep addressing me as Director all the time," he jokes, awkwardly trying to lighten the mood, "Can you help me with (M/N) here? I think she might need more than just me." Shioto is quick to act, using her body as a crutch to help prop her senior up properly on her office's desk. The brunette peers at the director for a second, then with a small frown, looks at (M/N)'s anxiety-ridden state. 

"Are the pills not working, (M/N)?" she says with a hushed voice, "I thought you were taking them every day-" 

"Don't... touch me, Shioto," (M/N) interrupts, softly grunting as she pulls away from her junior, "I can do this- I can sit- I can sit on my own." The brunette is hesitant in proceeding, seeing her mentor like this -- wrecked, but yet still so stubborn. She winces, takes a breath, then makes one last attempt to aid her friend.

"Let me help you," Shioto states, her tone leaving no room for argument. It's like a switch has gone off in (M/N)'s head as the older woman pauses, then begrudgingly relents, allowing for Shioto to dig up two pills from her jacket pocket and place them in her senior's hand, along with a small cup of lukewarm tea from a thermos sitting an arm's length away from the pair.

"Take them and drink slowly. You'll feel better." (M/N) does exactly that as the director looks on at the two with a cautious glance. He turns to Shioto, then to (M/N) with a quirked brow and a questioning stare. 

"Say... Shioto, what are the pills used for? I'd assume for stress?" The younger woman nods, not even sparing him a second glance as she tends to her senior.

"Mhm."

"Do you need a prescription to get them?"

"Nope."

"Then is it all right if I try some? I've been having issues with stress lately-" 

"The medication only works for females," Shioto suddenly spouts, "It's because of the differences in hormones and their proportions in the bodies of the different sexes." The director furrows his brows, forcing a smile as he leans against the desk with his lips pressed tightly together in a slightly unbelieving manner.

"Oh..." he muses, "That's... quite funny actually, I've never heard of a common drug like that. It's important, especially since my cousin is a pharmacist. Do you mind letting me see-" Shioto suddenly wheels around, almost dropping (M/N) in the process, then rushes the door, quickly exiting the room as she spiels an excuse.

"Sorry, I have to go use the restroom! I always need to pee when I get nervous -- I'll be back in a bit to talk." 

Nervous? Why is she nervous?

Genki narrows his eyes but stays put as he accompanies (M/N) in her delicate state. 

A few minutes later, Shioto returns with a new glow about her. She seems calm, collected -- not the blundering mess she was moments ago.

"Sorry for the suddenness of things. My bladder is really small," she rambles, "Stupid little thing can't even hold-"

"Okay, Shioto, we understand," the director says, "But I genuinely wanted to ask you some things about the medication you're giving (M/N). Where do you even get your pills?" Shioto seems unfazed as she responds almost immediately.

"From my doctor," she chirps, "He said that there was no need for a prescription, since this is a pretty common medication used for relieving stress." 

"So can I buy it from a pharmacy?" Shioto chuckles as she shakes her head, almost as if the answer to the question was too obvious to even ask for it.

"The reason why you can't find it online, or in common drugstores is because of the potency -- professionals are afraid that it'll be easier for people to overdose, you know?" Genki casts an uncertain glance over to (M/N), who reciprocates the grimace. He looks back at Shioto shortly after.

"And which doctor are you getting these from?"

"Doctor Hanzai! He's one of the best medical professionals out there -- as expected from a doctor in Musutafu, the prime location for heroes and biomedical practitioners." Genki pulls out his phone to do a quick search, furiously typing in the name of the medical professional, then finds that, low and behold, Doctor Hanzai is in fact a genuine doctor -- a renowned one, at that. The director forces another smile and slips his device back into his pocket as he lifts his head up to meet Shioto's stare.

"Well, I'm glad you're receiving care from Doctor Hanzai. Must be a good doctor." The brunette at the door nods affirmatively as she makes her way back over to the table, next to (M/N).

During all this commotion, the older woman had some thoughts of her own. Shioto's confidence to answer Genki's questions never really revealed anything suspicious. At least, not anything that she could see. 

However, though all suspicions have been thwarted for the time being, (M/N) can't help but feel a bit unsettled. Of course she trusts Shioto, the junior being a long-time colleague and work-friend, but this odd twinge at her chest makes her doubt even that. 

And it is this feeling that brings her back to reality with a gasp. The director beside her looks alarmed at the sudden intake of air, quickly helping her to sit straight and hold up her figure.

"(M/N)!" he exclaims, "Are you alright? Is everything okay?" She nods with her eyes screwed shut, feeling the room wobble around for a bit, then still as she regains her balance. The moment she believes she feels okay, she jabs a hand at the door, unable to even look at her two colleagues on either side of her.

"Can everyone just get the hell out of my office? I'm sorry for the temper, but I just need to think. I'm alright, I can promise you that, but I just need time." Genki sighs softly, but obliges after giving her a firm pat on the shoulder. Shioto follows him silently.

"Let me know if there's anything I can do," he says. (M/N) nods while rubbing her temples to get rid of a cystic migraine she's been having ever since the introduction of the two, clearly conflicting people. Once they're out of the room, however, it seems to die down a little, as the pressure decreases and she's finally allowed to relax. Taking a deep breath, she attempts to process all the added information she was given since Shioto's interrogation. 

After skimming through her barely coherent thought process, it dawns on her that she probably should double-check to see whether or not something is up. Though it feels like she's betraying the mutual trust between Shioto and herself, (M/N) manages to convince herself that it's for the better good, and that nothing bad can really come out of being extra careful.

So she fumbles for her phone, then dials the number for her local Urgent Care, and waits. Moments later, the other end of the line picks up, greeting (M/N) in a naturally peppy voice.

"Welcome to the Musutafu Urgent Care," the receptionist hums, "What can I do for you today?" (M/N) hesitates before speaking into the microphone, but musters up the courage to talk momentarily.

"I'd like to book a drug screening."

__

Hours later, (M/N) sits on a stained leather cushion as she waits for the nurse to arrive with the results of the blood test. She shifts in her seat with her hands neatly folded on her lap in an attempt to calm herself down, but her leg continues to bounce and her heart ceaselessly pounds against her chest, the loud thudding resounding in her ears. 

The noise echoes for a minute, then seemingly fades as the door to (M/N)'s small checkup space opens. A nurse enters the clinic with a smile, setting down a clipboard and taking a couple of pages from it to give to her patient. 

"Well, Mrs. (L/N), you're practically perfect," the nurse says, pointing to and examining the chart printed in black and white, "Though you could cut back on sugar, since your blood levels are just a tad bit higher than before, or at least the last time we checked up on you, there aren't any signs of abnormal medications. No drugs, nothing." The fleeting feeling of dread is spontaneously replaced by confusion, (M/N)'s heart rate immediately calming as soon as she hears the news.

"Wait, there's nothing?" the older woman questions with pursed lips, "Does the drug test pick up any medication like Advil or something?" 

"The test isn't specifically oriented towards detecting ibuprofen, but I do believe it should have picked it up if you took it within the last 6 to 7 hours."

That couldn't be right. The last dosage of the pink pill Shioto gave her was taken 3 hours ago, during her encounter with the director. The potency of the drug was also probably enough to make it last for double the amount of time Advil was supposed to linger in the human body. 

So why was it undetectable?

Something had to be up.

__

The next morning the only thing on (M/N)'s mind is confronting Shioto and asking what the hell was in the pills she gave her, and why it never left any traces in her bloodstream. Furiously searching for her junior, the older woman eventually finds Shioto exiting the bathroom, and approaches her.

"Shioto!" The brunette jumps at the sudden mention of her name, looking around anxiously to find the person who said it. Once she lays her eyes on (M/N), she turns her head, unable to meet her senior's gaze. 

"(M/N), hey," she says, less enthusiastically, "Do you need anything from me? More pills?-" (M/N) scoffs and casts her a glare.

"Drop the act and shut the hell up about your pills, I want to know what you did to me," she seethes, "You know this is illegal, right? I can report you to the authorities-" Shioto gives a squeak and suddenly clasps her senior's hand in desperation.

"Can we please talk about this in the bathroom? I don't want any extra attention, please." (M/N) starts to resist, yanking her hand away and grimacing at Shioto.

"No, why would I even-"

"Let's talk about this in the bathroom, please." Something about the begging tone in Shioto's words seems to convince her enough to begrudgingly let the younger female lead her into the privacy of the restroom, away from the outside. In the confines of the space, the brunette takes (M/N) by the shoulders, and faces her with a bowed head. 

"Look, I can explain everything, I promise. I just-" Before she can finish, (M/N) slaps her, then frees herself from Shioto's grasp in a rage.

"You just what, Shioto? What the hell are you doing this for?" Shioto stifles a sob as she clutches her red cheek and miserably tries to reason with her senior.

"Calm down, please, (M/N). You don't know what you're dealing with."

"Don't know what I'm dealing with? Shioto, you don't know what the hell you're dealing with-"

"Stop resisting! Please, stop resisting, please (M/N)!"

"Don't fucking force me to comply! I'll do what I want, Shioto, I'm not an idio-"

Shioto takes a shaky breath and the room seems to still as she utters her next words.

"Just calm down and go to sleep." A look of betrayal flashes across (M/N)'s features as her knees give in and her body falls limp. She starts to shake her head, but finds that the muscles in her neck are no longer taut and controllable. In the last few moments of consciousness she makes eye contact with her junior, making sure that she sees the complete disappointment, despondency, and sorrow in her irises.

And Shioto does.

She starts to cry.

"I'm sorry," Shioto whispers with a trembling voice, "I'm so sorry... they said that they would help him... I didn't know it would go this far... I'm sorry-"

It seems so unreal. So much so that (M/N) begins to wonder if this is all a dream. 

But her better judgement tells her otherwise.

There are a million thoughts racing through her head, most of them incomprehensible, but a select one or two that are prominent and coherent. 

Shioto did deceive her by lying about the pills and falsifying the information on her working document, stating that she didn't have a quirk. (M/N) realizes that her junior was either hiding her quirk, or received it from a transmission. It was likely the latter. There was no compassion to be held in that patch of information. However, in that state of emotional wreckage, in all the tumultuous hardships that were occurring simultaneously, Shioto is too distraught to properly use her quirk -- (M/N) knows this.

So for a moment, as she slips into darkness, (M/N) believes her junior's apology.

Maybe she is sorry.

__

eek! drama!!! 

shioto, more like shit-o am i right haha (sorry)

i decided i'd upload a little earlier today :)) hope you enjoyed!