nelesdostuff - Tumblr blog

nelesdostuff · 3 months ago

Text

CHAPTER 2 Proof - full

He always liked the sound of rain. Showers, sinks, bathtubs, he’d turn them all on at once and just listen for hours, sometimes without even bothering to wash himself. Luckily, AFO never had to worry about things like utility bills, he had people to take care of that and he himself enjoyed lounging for hours in his jacuzzi. It wasn’t until years later, when he had Kurogiri, that he learned the sound of dripping water could be soothing. It didn’t make much sense to him, he was always angry anyway.

Now, as he sat in the bathtub letting the water wash the grime from his skin, his mind wandered to those and other memories. There was nothing pressing to focus on, no plans to make, no lessons to absorb, no one to observe. It gave him time to reflect, to make sure he still remembered.

He stretched his hand out in front of him, turning it over and examining both sides. Every time he blinked, it seemed to change. Sometimes appearing human, other times segmented like a prosthetic or a doll’s hand. In both cases, it was cracked and scarred, with marks he had earned or inflicted on himself.

Looking at his skin, he was certain it would split and peel away, but he didn’t worry about it. All that would remain of his presence here would be his hair, assuming Kurogiri didn’t clean up after him. Even if his skin fell away, it would turn to dust. There were no wounds to bleed, and he planned to put on gloves the moment he finished bathing, ensuring he wouldn’t destroy anything. And fingerprints? He would have to have those first.

He ran his smooth fingertips over his hand, remembering how he could always piss off the Doctor in seconds or even quicker. Not always on purpose, but sometimes...

“-Why don’t I have fingerprints?”

“-Your quirk removed them.”

“-Why?”

“-It’s simple. You destroy everything. Since anything you touch is bound to perish, there’s no point in you leaving a trace behind.”

“-Why?”

“-Shut your damn mouth.”

“-Why?”

“-Can you just listen to what’s being said to you for once?!”

“-Wh—?”

…he couldn’t help himself.

Sighing, he took one last deep breath and submerged himself, closing his eyes and listening to the sounds around him. The shower hitting the surface of the water muffled things slightly, but he could still hear Kurogiri moving about and arranging things. He could also hear water running through the pipes, likely from neighbors bathing as well, and footsteps overhead as someone ran across the room above him.

He stayed like that for a few seconds, until the sensation of losing control over his body returned. His senses began to fade. Opening his eyes, he was met with nothing but darkness. He tried to hear anything, but couldn’t, he tried to call for Kurogiri, but nothing came out of his mouth. Hours later, when he opened them again and found himself on the couch, with no memory of how he got there.

###

[Kurogiri’s pov]

“Charged.”

Kurogiri unplugged the laptop and connected a power bank. Tomura had been watching this apartment for two days since he’d noticed a group of friends moving their belongings and mentioning something about the new apartment. They had left a few hours ago, and now the space was theirs for the night. As long as they didn’t make any suspicious or particularly loud noises, the neighbors wouldn’t suspect anything, and no one would call the police or the landlord. That meant they could relax, at least for a little while.

They’d managed to avoid any serious trouble despite wandering through dark alleys, sleeping on the streets, and stealing from vending machines. The only incident had been the previous night, when they encountered a few drunk men, an encounter that ended with those men losing their wallets. Now they had some cash, which had allowed Nomu to do the laundry currently drying on the balcony. While going through the pockets, Kurogiri had found a brochure for a café he didn’t recognize. He wanted to ask about it, but he doubted the white-haired boy would respond if he hadn’t already brought it up himself.

Luckily, Kurogiri knew how to encourage him. He scanned the apartment, ensuring there was nothing else to take care of as he prepared a space on the couch for his young charge.

“The laptop is charged. He’ll probably start up a game before eating.”

He placed the laptop and Switch on the coffee table next to a bag of chips. Just in case Tomura wanted more, he’d also put a microwave meal in the microwave, ready to heat. Kurogiri understood that, after everything going on, Tomura would have liked to sit at his desk, fire up a shooter or some other PvP game, and yell at the top of his lungs at the first excuse. Sometimes, Kurogiri envied the “randoms” who didn’t have to hear the teenager. For now, though, Tomura would have to make do with the offline games available to him.

Nomu gathered all the pillows into one corner of the couch, ensured there was a cup of water in the fridge, and drew the curtains over all the windows.

“Maybe now he’ll say something?”

Squeak. Nomu turned toward the sound of the door.

-Young Master.

He turned to see Tomura entering the room. The boy was wearing his cleanest clothes, but water still dripped from his hair. While he was visibly cleaner, he didn’t look any better. The exhaustion radiating off him was palpable. Nomu waited for a few seconds, hoping Tomura would say or do something, but the boy merely leaned against the doorframe.

-Tomura?

No response. Nomu already suspected what was happening but needed to confirm it. He approached, placed a hand on Tomura’s back, and guided him to sit on the couch. The teenager glanced around the room with a distant, unfocused gaze before grabbing his laptop. Switching it to tablet mode, he began drawing.

“Quiet state.”

Sometimes, Kurogiri saw Tomura in this state but could never pinpoint what triggered it or how long it would last. The boy usually “snapped out of it” after a few hours, only to deny that anything had happened, which worried him even more. Now he will have to keep an eye on him so that he doesn't hurt himself, although considering how he focused on drawing, he will have to worry about it for some time.

Despite everything, Tomura was handling the situation remarkably well, perhaps too well. In the blink of an eye, his entire life had crumbled, he was left without a roof over his head, without a place to go, without people to talk to, and on the second night he stopped caring about it. Even if this truly was just a test and AFO was somehow monitoring them or at least keeping tabs, they both knew AFO wouldn’t intervene to help, no matter how dire the situation became.

Kurogiri glanced at his phone, filled with notes, photos, and maps. A pang of guilt struck him. He felt he wasn’t doing enough, that it was Tomura who was taking care of him rather than the other way around. But it shouldn’t be that way. Kurogiri didn’t need food or water, only a few hours of rest weekly and occasional stabilization after intense exertion or too many injuries. That was all a Nomu of his caliber required.

He draped a blanket over Tomura, who didn’t react. The lines on the tablet were quickly taking shape, clear enough for Kurogiri to discern what it would be.

“A beach.”

Was the boy thinking about going there? Swimming or building sandcastles? With how pale he was, he’d surely burn quickly unless they bought a few bottles of the strongest sunscreen. Kurogiri wished Tomura could have more joy in his life, meet peers, spend time like any other teenager, maybe even experience his first flutters?

But more than that, he wished he could take Tomura somewhere safe. The problem was, he didn’t know where that place could be.

###

[Morning, Back to Tomura]

Tomura bit his fingers as he stared at his clothes and his hands, barely fitting into the sleeves. He muttered something under his breath.

-I need new clothes. And a backpack, or…

-I cleaned the bathroom, and don’t chew your hands too much.

-Yea, yea, I won’t. Good job with the bathroom.

-What’s on your mind?

-…Do you think it’d look weird if I had a sport bag?

-Suspicious? I don’t think so.

-Ugh, You don’t get it. I’m not… big. Wouldn’t it look sus if I walked around with a bag like that?

-Buy resistance bands and a yoga mat.

Tomura stopped biting his fingers, but keep one if his mouths as he gave Nomu a confused look.

-...Why?

-Yoga is good for the whole body. The beginning poses aren’t too difficult, and you’re already agile and resilient.

-You sound like you want me to do it.

-It’s said to have a calming effect.

-SHUT THE—! - Tomura clenched his teeth and averted his gaze, refusing to give Nomu any more satisfaction. - What kind of bands were you even talking about?

-I’ll tell you if you tell me about this.

He bit down hard enough to draw blood when he noticed the brochure in Kurogiri’s misty hand.

-It’s nothing. - He muttered, stuffing his bleeding finger into the pocket of his hoodie to stop the bleeding.

-You’re not going to get into trouble, are you?

-Maybe.

-So you do.

Tomura gritted his teeth, his irritation rising. He hated when Kurogiri got all superior, playing the "older and wiser" one.

-We need contacts! They’ll give us information and money! And that’s exactly what we need!

-I don’t disagree. But I’m worried you’re taking on too much.

Tomura’s face twisted into a confused scowl, one eyebrow raised and his lip curled. It was an expression he always made when something confused him.

-What?

Kurogiri’s form trembled slightly, his misty hands tightening into fists which was slightly visible through his hazy form, but Tomura noticed it and knew what was happening. Nomu was starting to glitch again.

-You are ambitious and… inde-ependent. I know that we-when yo-uu set yourself a goal, not much c-aan stop you. B-uut… I also know you’re not always the… most patient. I just don’t want you jumping in too deep before you’re ready.

Tomura couldn’t believe what his guardian was saying. Was he joking with him? If so, it wasn’t funny, even though he let out a slight chuckle.

-I haven’t done anything yet! My whole life I, haha! I’ve accomplished nothing! - He started to struggle with his breathing. - I have to do something for Sensei to come back! - He took a deep breath. - I have to…

Kurogiri felt a tremor in his own body, not wanting to see Tomura panic again, but he was caught in an internal struggle with himself.

-Y-You draw well! - Kurogiri said, handing him the tablet, hoping that seeing his drawing would, as usual, help him calm down. - And you taught yourself.

-No. I watched tutorials. - Tomura grabbed the tablet and started looking at the picture of the beach, not remembering that he had drawn it.

-But on your own. On your own… you a-also… learned sign language, soldering, and got all the achievements in Dark Souls.

-I'm not the only one who did that.

-An achievement is an achievement.

Tomura clenched his teeth. He always felt a little strange when Kurogiri complimented him, but he had a point. His patience had limits. He had to plan every step or he’d just dive in headfirst without realizing it.

-When did I draw this?

-Last night.

One of the layers was named 'To do list' and was essentially a list of things to do, but he didn’t remember writing it.

"Buy regular clothes. White stands out too much."

"Don’t go to that café. Yet."

"Junkyard."

-Junkyard?

-A scrapyard on the beach?

-No. Maybe? Fuck! I don’t remember! - He raised the laptop, aiming it at the floor.

"Stop, no. Deep breaths. Remember."

Slowly, he lowered his hands, dragging the laptop down from his head, over his face, and finally hugging it.

He glanced around the living room, searching for clues that might jog his memory. The entire apartment had very little furniture, there wasn’t even a table or chairs, and the two small bedrooms only had beds, which maybe could fit two people. Also all the walls were white. The biggest plus of the place was the large balcony, where the previous tenants had kept six or seven bikes. That, among other things, was how he had quickly found the location.

"There weren't that many people living there. They didn’t take out sleeping bags, and two beds and a couch wouldn’t be enough for that many people. So why did they keep the bikes on the balcony? There’s plenty of room inside."

He looked at the rather large and empty balcony. A few months ago, it was probably as white as the rest of the apartment, but now, it was hard to find a spot untouched by weather or dirt. His eyes landed on a few colorful stains.

"Paint marks?"

He closed his eyes, trying to recall what they had taken out was there anything noteworthy? He remembered suitcases, bags, and a dust mask that had… paint stains.

He opened his eyes.

-I remember!

Someone was approaching. Both of them turned toward the front door, hearing a voice say, "This way, please," followed by the sound of keys in the lock.

###

He's certain he’s never fled from a room so quickly before. Thankfully, they were now ‘safe’ in some alleyway, and more importantly, he finally knew what he needed to do.

He couldn’t… no, he didn’t want to draw attention to himself. For that, he needed clothes that weren’t white, wouldn’t get dirty too quickly, and wouldn’t easily show bloodstains. Once his finger stopped bleeding, he changed into a different hoodie and headed for the nearest shopping center. He didn’t know the city well enough to have any idea where specific stores were, so at least this way, he was sure to find what he needed.

He moved toward the entrance, taking deep breaths and making sure his mask and hair covered as much of his face as possible.

“Two hoodies, two pairs of pants, a bag, and I’m out.”

He double-checked the cash in his pocket and stepped inside. At this early hour, there weren’t many people around, but enough that he wasn’t the only point of curiosity. He walked with his head slightly down, calmly mimicking the pace of the other shoppers.

"This looks like a women’s store. That one’s just suits. Where’s something normal?"

His neck began itching more intensely, tempting him to just turn around and leave or to just dig his fingers, but he managed to hold himself together.

"I can kill. Some shopping won’t defeat me."

He rarely went outside. There was no need. Food was always within reach, AFO bought him clothes and most other things he asked for since he behaved well. He was still bitter about not getting the tank he’d asked for, considering he’d been following orders and even learned how to drive a car.

He wandered around a bit longer, ready to leave when he spotted a shirt with The Witcher emblem on display. He’d planned to stick with something more plain, but there were posters featuring teenage models, so at least he knew this store had clothes more suited for someone his age. Without even stepping inside, he noticed a corner dedicated to The Witcher and Yellow King merchandise. The store wasn’t just for nerds, there weren’t any figurines, and most of the clothes were just dark with simple patterns.

“Kurogiri told me to buy something I like.”

###

He sat on a toilet seat, taking deep breaths. Shopping turned out to be more stressful than he’d imagined. He hoped he hadn’t drawn suspicion or that the cashier hadn’t called the cops, who’d be waiting for him as soon as he left the bathroom.

He spent way more money than he wanted to, but at least now he had something “non-white” and even got a discount card for future purchases. He hoped everything would fit since he hadn’t bothered with the fitting rooms, he just checked the tags to make sure the sizes matched his height.

“Time to change in cas.”

The gray jeans were too long, so he had to roll them up. The black hoodie was also oversized, but it didn’t feel uncomfortable. Plus, it had red spider lily patterns on the sleeves, which he felt suited him too well. He thought about checking himself in the mirror but quickly looked away, as he hated mirrors. After pacing a little in the bathroom and taking one final deep breath, he stepped out.

“Now for the bag.”

###

He returned to Kurogiri not long after.

-I thought you wanted a sports bag?

-I changed my mind.

“And the store with school stuff was next to the bathroom.”

The pillowcase would still store his white clothes, the new dark gray backpack would carry his tech and new outfits, and he also picked up a dark raincoat for Nomu so he can cover himself too. It didn’t help much, as Nomu’s “smoke” still faintly seeped through the material, but at least it would make blending into darker spaces easier.

After counting their money, he realized he’d spent about a third of what they had. He regretted a bit that they’d only taken cash from those drunken guys and hadn’t bothered with their bank accounts. Then again, he had no idea how to use ATMs and knew they had cameras, which clashed with his “don’t leave traces” approach.

-I need to track down those guys and keep an eye on them. They mentioned a junkyard, maybe it’s a code name for the place where they sell the bikes.

-Or maybe... it’s just a junkyard?

-I doubt it. If they’re painting the bikes themselves, it must be a small business. They’re probably stealing from one district. Still, it’s worth checking out the junkyard anyway.

-What do you want to do now?

-Teleport us somewhere there. - He pointed out the area on a map to Nomu. - There’s an official dump on the outskirts. Now it will be easier for me to blend, so I’ll roam around and try to find something interesting.

-You look good in these.

-...

-Just open the portal.

The junkyard was open until 21:00, giving him several hours to explore the surrounding area. For now, his plan was simple: just walk around and observe. He didn’t have many leads, but this was better than waiting for an opportunity to fall into his lap.

As usual, he left Nomu in an alley, ordering him to hide and stay put. While Nomu might not be the weirdest thing in the city, he’d still draw too much attention, and it would look strange if he followed Tomura everywhere. Plus, this was Tomura’s mission, the more he did on his own, the better. Even if it meant aimlessly wandering for hours until he got tired.

He sat down on a bench, listening to the sound of a nearby fountain. People moved back and forth, some talking on their phones, others chatting with friends. A few minutes after he sat down, a group of kids ran through the fountain. It felt strange to watch them like this, observing their behavior without worrying that he stood out too much. Especially after spotting another guy wearing jeans just like his own.

Looking down, he found himself thinking about buying more clothes. AFO always gave him white ones, insisting he looked best in them. He hoped that his Sensei wouldn’t think he looked stupid when he eventually won this challenge.

His mind wandered to the stories AFO used to tell him. About his early days, his first major operations, and how his cult came to be. Which was ironic, since he spotted one of its displays right across the fountain.

It looked like a family: two adults with two kids standing near a small stand with brochures about The New Dawn. Tomura wanted so badly to walk and just destroy it. But with so many potential witnesses around, he decided against it.

Scratching his neck, he watched the scene for a moment until something clicked.

“That’s not a family. That boy isn’t with them. Are they really trying to recruit him?”

He looked around, trying to spot someone else with purple hair who might be the boy’s parents, but he didn’t see anyone.

“Is he from an orphanage?”

The cultists were showing him pictures, telling him stories. The boy seemed a little excited, and no one around them seemed to care.

“Strangers inviting a kid to their home? He’s not theirs, so why noone give a crap? Where are the heroes when…?”

He blinked as he heard something.

"I'm sure a hero will help…."

He looked back at the scene and stood up.

###

-These are photos from our last banquet.

-We’d be DELIGHTED to have you at the next one.

The table in the picture was covered with a feast, dishes that looked incredibly appetizing.

-Do you have any favorite meals?

-I… - The boy covered his mouth with his hand, hesitating to speak.

-I’d love to cook them for you. There will be no problem in that, don’t worry.

A faint blush colored his cheeks. He wasn’t stupid, he knew this was all part of the act. They’d start expecting things from him eventually. But… having dinner with a family that was one of his dreams.

-I like—

-Yo, little bro! - a voice suddenly interrupted, as a taller boy grabbed him by the shirt. - We were supposed to visit grandma after school, remember?

He blinked a few times, confused. Who was this guy? What was he talking about? He’d never seen him before. Maybe he mistaken him for someone else?

-We’re going. - the stranger said, pulling him away.

-You are his brother? Maybe you want-?

-No. - The taller boy cut in sharply.

-But—

-No!

The purple-haired boy didn’t know how to react. This older guy had just yanked him away from strangers who were inviting him to dinner. No matter how he thought about it, it all seemed… wrong.

Once they were far from the fountain, the boy finally got a surge of courage and started pulling away.

- Stop, let me go!

The taller boy obeyed, and the younger immediately covered his mouth, worried he might have accidentally activated his quirk.

-What are you doing?

-Relax, idiot. - the older boy said flatly. - I just saved your ass from a cult.

- That’s not a cult! And anyway… I wasn’t planning on joining them.

-Sure you weren’t.

-It’s none of your business. I don’t even know you!

-And you don’t know them, either. - The white-haired boy leaned down closer, making his damaged skin more visible and giving him a menacing look. - Would you have gone to dinner with me if I asked you out?

The younger boy turned his gaze away. They both knew the answer. He didn’t know who this guy was or what he wanted, but he was right. He’d nearly agreed to visit complete strangers who talked to him just because they saw he was alone. His grip tightened around the New Dawn pamphlet in his hand.

-Hey. - The white-haired boy snatched the pamphlet from him, then shoved some money into his pocket. - For dinner. Now go home and read up on what cults do to your brain. If you want to keep your.

The purple-haired boy covered his mouth with both hands, his eyes wide with fear. Does he know? And if he does, how much does he know?

He opened his mouth to ask, but the older boy had already turned and walked away.

And Hitoshi was left alone once again.

###

"What am I doing?"

Half. That’s how much money he spent in one day. One. He thought about going to those people from New Dawn and robbing them, but he knew it wouldn't be worth it. They probably gave every penny they saved to their 'church.'

If only they knew what was bought with that money.

-Something wrong, Tomura?

-No. Let's go get food.

Kamino is considered a relatively dangerous city, by Japan’s standards. There’s a pretty big gang and yakuza here, who supposedly like to operate at night. Plus, Trigger is quite popular, so most people lock themselves inside before sunset. He thought their concerns were unwarranted. He’d been living on these streets for weeks, and no one had attacked him yet, but it could also be because he knew how to stay hidden. Who knows?

He wasn’t going to complain about it. A vending machine with hot food, in a place with no cameras and zero witnesses around? Too good to pass up.

-What do you want today?

-Ramen.

Kurogiri opened a small portal and pulled the dish straight from inside. They had it down so well by now that they did it while walking past the vending machine, without even stopping.

-Do you want to go back to New Dawn?

-No. Just find where they meet.

-Can I know why?

-Spy. Steal... Mainly steal.

-Do you want to see if that guy is with them?

-No. - Kurogiri narrows his eyes. - Why did I even tell you about this?

-Because I asked how much money we have left.

-Yea, I know! It was stupid. I shouldn’t have given him money.

-But?

-But...

He looked at his meal. He knew what it was like to feel hunger, how unpleasant it could be. Under AFO’s wing, he always had access to food, but he never overindulged. He rarely finished a full portion and often just ignored his hunger. But also... he had never been desperate for any food, at least not that he could remember.

He stopped when he saw two homeless people rummaging through trash cans near the restaurant. They didn’t search for long because the owner started chasing them off with a broom. And what’s his problem? No one was going to pay him for that food, and those guys weren’t making a mess.

He walked on, but after a moment, he stopped again.

-Young Master?

-I have another stupid idea.

The homeless people sat on a bench, muttering curses under their breath about the cook. They did it more for entertainment than out of real anger. They had seen both the kindness and the lowest of what humanity has to offer. They had lived on the streets for several years and had gotten used to most things. Today, they just hadn't had any luck, or at least that's what they thought.

A teenager approached them, carrying four ready-made meals. He placed them on the bench next to them and quickly walked away. One of them immediately laughed, amused by the turn of events. Whether he did it for a YouTube video or not, it didn’t matter to him, free food is free food. The other one started laughing as well, but not enough to stop him from shouting, "Thanks!" toward the boy.

Tomura ignored the shout behind him and quickened his pace, glad he managed to leave before anyone could start asking questions. He felt strange, as if he had just done something against the rules he had set for himself. But he didn’t regret it.

-So what now, Young Master? - Kurogiri asked, appearing next to him.

-Nothing. - Tomura shoved his hands into his pockets. - Let's go back.

They didn’t speak again as Kurogiri opened a portal and they transported to a more familiar, dark place. In silence, Tomura tossed his backpack onto the floor and crouched by the wall. Thoughts swirled in his mind, but none would settle into something concrete.

"Why did I even do that?"

He couldn’t answer that question. He shouldn’t have done it; there was no gain in it for him. As usual, Kurogiri didn’t comment on his actions. Tomura appreciated that more than he would admit.

-Don’t tell anyone about this.

-Of course.

#bnha #bnha au #bnha fanfiction #shigaraki tomura #bnva upon us #upon us #mva upon us #kurogiri #writers on tumblr

2 notes · View notes

nelesdostuff · 4 months ago

Text

BNVA: Upon Us. CHAPTER 1: What now?

TW: Panic Attack, Self harm

[I do not own BNHA, is just my AU.]

-Look, Tomura.

AFO gestured at a mass of screens on the wall in front of them. The hacked city surveillance feed displayed live scenes of ordinary streets, ordinary people, and their ordinary lives. Some were heading to work, some chatting in a café, others waiting for a bus or taking pictures with X-Less. At the very center, on the largest screen, was an interview with All Might right after he had saved a drowning child. The rescued child wasn’t even shown in the background, leaving only a guess as to how they were doing.

-One day, you’ll destroy all of this.

He said nothing, just stared at the screens, letting the silence between them build. While the man was focused on the interview with the number one hero, he glanced down at a screen showing a teenager walking their dog. He began to scratch his neck as much as his mother's hands allowed, feeling an increasing itch. He started to feel sick to his stomach, so he removed his father’s hand from his face and focused on it. Why did he feel this way? He didn’t know. Where had he gotten all these hands? He wasn’t sure if he wanted to remember. All he knew was that he felt strangely uncomfortable and didn’t know what to call it. He shifted his gaze from the screen to his teacher, who hadn’t even looked at him this whole time.

AFO was intimidating. He was huge, muscular, with a countless array of quirks; he once admitted he didn’t even know how many he had, but that he wanted more. He also had people ready to give their lives for him, not to mention their fortunes. AFO had everything.

He wondered, why did AFO even need him? Couldn’t he destroy it all himself? He didn’t even come up to his waist. Something didn’t add up.

-Sensei?

-Yes, Tomura?

-Why?

AFO slowly turned his gaze toward him.

###

He woke up and immediately covered his mouth, quickly beginning to run out of air. His gaze wandered to his father’s hand, which he placed on his face, and only then could he start breathing again, taking a few deep breaths, roughly following the 4-7-8 method. Good thing he’d once read about it online. After a moment, he managed to calm down enough to look around. He was still in the same alley where he’d fallen asleep in the morning, and Kurogiri was still sitting in the same spot, likely watching over his charge this whole time.

-Good afternoon, Young Master. Perhaps you’re hungry?

-No.

-You should eat something. I brought a few cans of tomato soup.

-No.

-You haven’t eaten anything since yesterday.

-Didn’t you understand?! No! And now don’t speak for a moment.

Nomu did as he was ordered, watching carefully as his charge continued trying to calm down, breathing and scratching his neck. After a moment, the white-haired boy bit his finger and leaned slightly out from behind the shadow of the boxes to look at the street. Just a few meters away, bathed in sunlight, people were living their lives, oblivious to everything going on around them, as long as it didn’t hit them directly. They talked, they laughed, just like on those screens, years ago. So much time had passed, and yet the status quo remained the same.

But since last night, everything has changed.

###

[Yesterday]

"This can’t be true... no... no, no, no..."

-You spoiled brat! Did you hear what I just said to you?!

He looked at the monitor screen, wishing he could reach through and grab the doctor.

-YOU’RE LYING!

-Can’t you take anything seriously?! You think I would lie about SOMETHING LIKE THIS?! AFO is dead, All Might killed him, and there’s nothing you can do about it! You’ve always been useless!

-Without Sensei, there’s nothing left!

-I still have my mind, my facilities, my research, and my experiments! You’re the one who has nothing! Now shut up and get out! I’m calling the police! My greatest creation wasted as your babysitter, I owe you nothing, you fool—!

He couldn’t take it anymore. He touched the screen with five fingers, disintegrating the plasma TV into tiny pieces in an instant. Immediately after, he started shouting, growling, and smashing the couch, the table, the armchair, and even the nearby wall. AFO hadn’t just been defeated; he’d been killed, gone. It was too much for him. He shook with emotions he couldn’t name, and his hands moved to his neck, digging his nails in as hard as he could.

-Young Master?

He didn’t answer the question, he wasn’t ready yet, not now, and Nomu quickly understood, deciding to give him a few minutes to blow off some steam.

He knew he had to pull himself together soon. He could rage as much as he wanted, but it wouldn’t change anything. AFO wouldn’t come back, and they had to leave, preferably before the police found them in this abandoned factory with luxury furniture. Who knows what the Doctor might tell them and if they’d bring along some hero? Besides, knowing how the police liked to do the bare minimum, they’d probably bring one even if it was just about a stolen bicycle. The Doctor would probably give them a few minutes to leave, as a “final gesture of goodwill.”

He looked at a poster of All Might. He would destroy it every few days, but the next day, AFO would hang up another one. He called it their “game.” Now, he had the chance to tear it down, knowing it wouldn’t come back, just like the man who had raised him. He grabbed it with four fingers and ripped it off the wall.

“All Might.”

"-Sensei, why are you so interested in All Might?"

"-Isn’t it obvious, Tomura?"

"-Is it because you’re both num—?"

"-Tomura, it’s not just about titles. Every villain is an enemy of every hero, just as every hero is an enemy of every villain. We’ll fight each other, ignoring these silly rankings."

“Sensei never really answered that question.”

He stood there for a few moments while Kurogiri began packing things up. Fortunately, Tomura had only a few clothes, and he kept everything either in one drawer or on a chair, so it was easy to pack it all into a pillowcase. Nomu never understood why they didn’t have any travel bags, given that they’d change their place of residence every few months, or even weeks.

-Young Master, we should get moving. The sooner we leave, the less chance they’ll find us.

The teenager took a deep breath.

-Don’t worry. We won’t leave a trace.

The next few minutes were spent on autopilot. He grabbed his bag with the Skyrim emblem, packed whatever caught his eye, and handed it to Nomu before they left the building. The police hadn’t arrived with sirens blaring, but they quickly switched them on once they saw the factory ruins, as if the lights would somehow help. Kurogiri and Tomura watched for a moment from a distance before heading deeper into the forest. Destroying the entire factory hadn’t lifted the teenager’s spirits. Maybe if it hadn’t already been half-destroyed, he would’ve felt better. Or maybe if it had been bigger?

“What now? What to do?”

He had already scratched into his blood, still trembling, his mind racing in overdrive. A thousand thoughts and memories per second once again cut him off from reality.

“This isn’t how it was supposed to be.”

Just two days ago, AFO had spoken to him in person, praising him for helping with something, he couldn’t remember what. Kurogiri sometimes rambled or froze mid-sentence, Garaki would eagerly perform an autopsy on him, and everyone else saw him as some kind of disgusting threat. Only Sensei could see something more in him.

“Sensei…”

He stopped.

-Young…?

He touched the nearest tree with all his strength, causing the decay to spread several meters outward.

-How could you lose?!

He shouted, his voice echoing through the forest. Right after, Kurogiri pushed him into a portal, teleporting them deeper into the woods, fearing someone might have heard or seen the dust rising into the night sky. Nomu wanted to say something to his charge, but he yelled again. He screamed so loudly and for so long that the dry air began to tear at his throat. He struck the ground several times, each impact creating a new cloud of dust around him, further irritating his skin and lungs.

He didn’t want to be seen right now, not by his Nomu, not by anyone. Kurogiri had no choice but to wait. Approaching the raging teenager was too risky, even for him.

He couldn’t focus on anything other than walking forward. If Kurogiri suddenly stopped walking with him, he wouldn’t even notice, no matter that he was carrying all the bags. Every now and then, he destroyed a nearby tree, bush, or whatever was within reach of his outstretched hand. He wasn’t worried about anyone seeing them, what could possibly happen? They were in the middle of a forest, far from anything. Even if some nature lover had somehow set up camp nearby, if they saw someone covered in hands and a dark, misty figure with glowing eyes, they would likely just run away. Maybe they’d take a photo first, which would probably serve as inspiration for a new creepypasta, but that was Kurogiri’s concern.

“Sensei, why did you lose? How could you lose? You’re unstoppable. How could I not help you? Why didn’t you call for me?! WHY DO YOU KEEP ME IF NOT TO DESTROY HIM?!”

Why was he reacting like this? How should he react? He felt pathetic, he knew what he had to do. AFO might be gone, but his ideas lived on; he had raised him, and now it was up to him to carry out his will. AFO had called him his Demon of Destruction, and he had to become just that.

He stopped, sat down on the ground, looking around for the first time. The sun was either rising or setting. They were somewhere in a forest, and he could see power lines in the distance, which meant they’d somehow made their way back to civilization. How long had they been walking? He didn’t know. Not that he cared, because Kurogiri could always teleport them to…

Exactly. To who? To where?

-Young Master? - Kurogiri sat across from him, making sure he hadn’t fainted.

-Why did Sensei take care of me?

-Old Master saw great potential in you.

-Then why did he never use it?

A silence fell between them. AFO had always told him he had big plans for him, that he would help him destroy everything. But he’d never said how or when, and that infuriated him.

“-You’ll accomplish great things!”

“-I have plans beyond your wildest dreams!”

“-Everything is going as it should.”

“-My Demon of Destruction.”

Kurogiri handed him a small first-aid kit.

-Please, Young Master. Tend to your neck.

He didn’t even try to reach for it. He didn’t have the energy to deal with his wounds, and they weren’t bleeding enough for him to care.

-Put it away.

-I know you can be stubborn, but maybe… you could call someone?

-Shut up.

-Do you plan on living in the forest?

-Do you have a better idea? If not, then keep quiet.

-Perhaps you could try to make peace with the Doctor? No one was as loyal to AFO as you two were.

-Forget it. In case you hadn’t noticed, we can’t stand each other. It’s been that way since before you, and after what happened two or three years ago, he’s stopped even pretending he doesn’t want me dead. If you’re so keen on going back to your creator, go by yourself.

-I’m your guardian, there’s no way I’d leave you. No matter what, I’ll stay by your side. I promise.

-Because that’s how you were programmed. The Doc’s greatest creation, nerfed to play babysitter for this psycho. - Tomura gestured to himself.

-I don’t feel… nerfed.

-Yea, sure.

He grabbed his head. The pain seemed to want to set a new record.

-Did you bring my painkillers?

-The narcotics? No.

-Shit!

-But I have something else. - said Kurogiri, pulling a blanket out of his bag and wrapping it around Tomura. - Try to calm down.

-Seriously?

-If you dislike the Doctor so much, maybe try contacting someone else? Old Master had many allies.

-This is idiotic. You know that, right?

Kurogiri looked at him with those faintly glowing eyes. His face was featureless, his body rigid, which made him seem devoid of emotion. That was Garaki’s intent, after all. But after the first few months with him, Tomura learned to read Kurogiri’s subtle cues, the slight changes in how much he narrowed or widened his eyes, the way the glow moved, smooth or chaotic. These tiny shifts meant everything. And the fact that Tomura understood Kurogiri’s feelings was one of the small secrets they shared.

Right now, Kurogiri was worried.

Tomura reached into his pocket for his phone. It was a high-tech model, identical to those of AFO’s close associates: modern, dual-screen, modified to pick up special frequencies, loaded with custom apps, undetectable, lightweight, blah, blah, blah. None of that mattered to him. Could he play games on it? Did it have enough memory? Yes, and yes. Great, that’s all he needed.

He unlocked the phone. Signal? Weak, but present. Internet? Also good. Garaki wasn’t the only person he kept in ‘regular’ contact with. One cult leader, a fanatic of the New Dawn, loved to use him to “deal with nonbelievers” and had an unsettlingly friendly manner with the "favorite demon." This friendliness was so acting that he often felt sick after a few seconds with him, but his fanaticism was real.

Then there was that hacker, or rather, the leader of a hacking collective. He only met with her once or twice a year, and their interactions mostly consisted of her handing him sheets filled with complex math problems, hoping it would keep him busy. He’d usually come back quickly with answers, annoying her to check them, and rewarding him with a new game or mod.

And then there was the other guy who fancied himself AFO’s “real right-hand man.” Tomura couldn’t stand him, but that guy always dealt with things AFO couldn’t or didn’t want to. And wasn’t Tomura one of those ‘issues’?

He opened a hidden contacts app, waited for the logo to load, and… nothing. Everyone had removed him from their contacts. AFO was dead, and they’d cut him off as if he was dead too. Quickly, he checked his “bank account.” Empty. The only thing left was a message from the hackers sent a few hours ago:

Sup!

Literally minutes after AFO’s death, someone tried to grab the cash and sell our info. We already dealt with them, but we’re shutting down the network in 13 hours. And if anyone’s got an issue with that, might I remind you we know your kinks. Sort your own messes before contacting us.

—Pixels <3

He growled and threw his phone against a tree. The screen didn’t break, of course it had to be doubly reinforced. A phone worth thousands of dollars, now completely useless. He wrapped the blanket around himself, disappearing beneath it. Nobody could see him or comment on his childish reaction, so he allowed himself the indulgence.

-I'm more dead to them than Sensei.

He growled and threw his phone at a tree. The screen didn’t crack, of course—it had to be double-tempered. A phone worth a few thousand dollars and now completely useless. He pulled the blanket over himself, hiding. No one would see him, no one would comment on his childish behavior, so he could afford it.

-I’m more dead to them than Sensei.

He felt exhaustion slowly draining what little strength he had left. His legs ached from hours of walking, his stomach hurt, his head hurt, and yet he managed to do a quick assessment of the situation. In short: FUCK! That word perfectly described everything that was happening. Anyone who could remove him from their contacts had done so; anyone with access to his funds had taken them. He could, technically, try reaching out to those hackers and ask them to give his money back, but with the current state of the network, their patience had probably flown out the window long ago. Risk messing with arguably the best hacking team in Japan, who knows your entire browsing history and your old Steam account nickname, just to recover something like 7,300 yen? No, not worth it.

So now he had nothing. And the worst part of all this was that everything felt so familiar. Like rewatching a movie he’d seen many, many years ago. He might not remember the plot, characters, or the ending, but he knew he’d seen it all before.

-Kurogiri?

-Yes, Young Master?

-What else do we have in eq?

Kurogiri handed him the bags. The pillowcase held his clothes, the backpack had a smartbook and the last of their food. Somewhere at the bottom, his chargers should be there too, but he barely looked. Out of everything, only one item caught his attention. He pulled out his favorite energy drink with more enthusiasm than he intended to show.

-Maybe don’t drink that yet, it’s the last…

He downed it without hesitation, taking big gulps before crushing the empty can into dust. Resting his head against the tree, he exhaled deeply.

-That’s good. - He said, giving Kurogiri a sidelong glance. - Don’t look at me like that. I needed it.

-What you need is shelter. And food. And money. A-and…and…

Tomura bit his finger, trying to figure out what they should do, but mostly one thought filled his head: he wished he had died instead of AFO.

Did he feel lost? Confused? Tired? All of the above? Something else? He wasn’t sure. Sensei had always helped him sort through the mess in his mind, to make sense of it. Without him, he didn’t know what he felt or what he should feel. Focusing for a moment, he knew one thing: he needed rest. He hadn’t slept in about two days, which usually wasn’t a problem for him, but the last few hours had drained him completely.

He got up, retrieved his phone, and carefully removed the special SIM cards. He knew whoever made this equipment was a fan of Predator and often added little explosive charges to his gadgets. “Better BOOM than sorry,” as they liked to say.

-Kurogiri, open up the pillowcase.

Nomu did as instructed, and Tomura stuffed his hands inside, making room for everything. Only Sensei stayed with him.

-Where to now?

-Kamino, Yokohama.

-The city with the biggest arcade?

-Just shut up and start the teleport.

###

[Back in the alleyway]

Nomu set a bottle of water beside him, probably stolen from a vending machine, and he drank it all at once before tucking father into his hoodie pocket.

-I have to beat this challenge.

-Challenge?

-Do you really think Sensei’s dead? Look around. If All Might actually defeated the number one villain, there’d be a parade, the news would be non-stop about it. They’d probably declare a new national holiday.

-Maybe they announced it and moved on to other topics?

-What could possibly be more important than the fight of the century? I don’t buy that Might walked away from that fight no damage taken. He’d be in the hospital, surrounded by reporters. This is probably some kind of test. Sensei started young too, and he probably wants to see how I’d handle things in his place.

-Doctor Garaki looked devastated. Do you think he’d lie about something like this?

-‘Eggaraki is probably drowning in champagne right now, happy to be rid of me. - Tomura said as he stood up pulling his hood over his head. - I exist to accomplish great things. Don’t forget that, Kurogiri. But for now, I need more exp.

-Of course, Young Master. Where should we begin?

-I’m going to scout the area.

-Alone?

-Yea, what, am I supposed to hold your hand? You draw too much attention, so stay here. This is a stealth mission for now.

-At least eat something before you go.

-Keep your head down, I’ll be back before dark.

-And if you’re not?

-Then you’ll easily find a demolished building, panicking people, and a group of heroes ready to fight. - He said, turning toward the street but stopping after the first step. - But if we do get separated…you’re free to go. Go wherever you want.

He slipped on a mask and stepped into the street. No one paid him any attention, though he felt like someone might punch him, yell at him, or do something else any second. He walked slightly hunched, covering his face as much as possible, giving off a clear “don’t mess with me” vibe. People usually assume heroes will show up if someone starts causing trouble. And if someone really needed help, well… too bad. Not their problem.

He moved carefully, avoiding bumping into anyone. He wasn’t even sure when he’d last been in the city alone, unsupervised. A few times as a kid, he’d snuck out, but he’d always returned to AFO with his tail between his legs. He didn’t even remember why he used to sneak out. It couldn’t have been anything serious if Sensei had always welcomed him back with open arms, just as he’d promised.

“-No matter what you do, I will be the only one who never shuts the door on you, Tomura.”

Was someone running behind him? Were they going to attack? No, it was just some kid with purple hair sprinting to catch a bus. The girl on his left, with the large green eyes, was eyeing everyone strangely. Was she up to something? No… Maybe? Did it matter if she was already walking away quickly? And that lizard-looking guy over there, walking with the same hunched posture as him, maybe he was just having a bad day too? Should he care?

“Calm down. This is a quest or maybe a secret achievement, you just have to figure out how to unlock it.”

Another memory crept into Tomura’s mind, much calmer than the one that had jolted him awake.

“-One thing that binds us, Tomura, is that this world hasn’t just given us nothing, it wants to take everything we have. I built my empire with my own hands. I live in villas, world-class chefs prepare my meals. But as a kid, I roamed the streets, eating trash. Funny, really. You were in the same spot when I found you. History sure loves to repeat itself.”

Behind his mask, a grin spread across Tomura’s face.

“There’s no way someone like him could die. I just have to prove my worth.”

He spent the next few hours walking around the city, observing his surroundings, mentally making a list of things he needed to take care of.

“First: starter base. Food and clothes should be easy enough to steal.”

He’d already spotted a few promising places. If it rained, they could hide under a bridge. Some rooftops offered good vantage points that would definitely come in handy later. He’d also noticed a couple of vacant buildings for rent. He just needed to make sure there were no cameras inside and enough space for a temporary hideout.

“Second: connections. A biker gang and a dealer will be enough to start. I’ll find a middleman later.”

Building a reputation would take some time, but Tomura knew more about “villainy” than the average person, had a powerful quirk, and a Nomu who could teleport them around. He began thinking of it all as a “Rags to Riches” or “Runaway Teen” challenge, only in real life. A base, money, and status. That’s what he’d need to win. Sensei had invested years into teaching him, and it was time to prove that time hadn’t been wasted.

“-Remember what I taught you, Tomura. Right?”

“-It’s simple, Tomura. I’ll explain it to you again. So, listen up.”

"-Work on this yourself, Tomura. I want to see how you’ll do."

"-Come, Tomura. There's something you need to see."

But now, there was only one place he really wanted to go. He stopped in front of a specific building, looking up at an ‘80s-style neon sign.

"Third: the Lantern."

A few floors packed with games, memorabilia, bars, a special cosplay area, and an 18+ section. No matter what franchise you’re a fan of, you’ll find something here. It was nerd paradise. He’d sooner die than admit it outright, but he was a nerd. Ever since hearing about this place, he’d wanted to visit it. Unfortunately, AFO hadn’t agreed, saying, “Why bother when you have games at home?” But now that he’d “cut him loose,” there was no way Tomura was passing up the chance as soon as he earned some money, that is.

"A base close to this place…"

His daydreaming was cut short by a THUD a few meters away. An old man had fallen, spilling his groceries across the pavement. Tomura stared, not entirely sure why. Passersby gave the old man a wide berth, as expected. So why did he find himself noticing every detail? The man had bought a mountain of coffee, teas, sweeteners, cookies, and pastries. Why did he need so much?

Tomura’s gaze landed on one of the pastries, and he realized just how hungry he was. He should’ve listened to Kurogiri and eaten something earlier. At least now he had an excuse to help the old guy. Tomura pocketed the pastry, hoping it wouldn’t bulge too obviously, then started gathering the coffees to help the stranger. Together, they quickly packed everything back into the bags.

-Thank you, young man.

The old man reached out to shake Tomura’s hand, but he pulled it back, clenching his fist. The last thing he needed today was accidentally killing someone on a crowded street with cameras everywhere, especially since he had a plastic-sealed hand in his hoodie pocket right next to the stolen pastry.

-No problem. - The old man didn’t give up and grabbed his wrist instead. - Hey!

-Such a kind kid you are. - the man said with a smile.

Tomura tried to pull away, but the grip wouldn’t budge. Either he was too weak, or the old man was stronger than he looked. He wasn’t sure which would be worse.

-I run a café, how about you stop by for some tea?

-No, buzz off.

-But I insist.

Tomura didn’t like this one bit. No one ever touched him, not even Kurogiri, and now some old man was practically holding him in place, likely trying to milk his “kindness.” His heart pounded, his stomach churned, good thing it was empty. The stranger kept smiling at him, which only made him angrier. Clenching his teeth, he briefly stopped caring about the people around them. Leaning forward, he opened his eyes wide, glaring at the old man with as much menace as he could muster, and hissed:

-You want me to kill you?

-I want you to pay for the bun you stole. - The man replied calmly.

Tomura blinked, surprised. He had expected fear, disgust, maybe even amusement, but this?

"If only you knew what I could do."

-I'm not angry about it. - the old man said. - You could use a little more meat on your bones, actually.

The man gave his hand a light squeeze, chuckling. Tomura had had enough and finally yanked his hand free with a low growl. The man just held out a pamphlet, unfazed, and handed it to him.

-Come by sometime.

Tomura scoffed, grabbed the paper, and stalked off.

-Jerk.

Once he was a safe distance away, he took out the bun and bit into it, still seething over how, as the future Demon of Destruction, he’d let himself get played so easily. His mind replayed the scene. His first face-to-face interaction with a "normal" person, not just through some chat in a game. He began recalling details, like the fact that the old man’s left hand was missing a pinky, as if it had been cut off years ago. And there was something dark on his neck, maybe a tattoo? Or was it just a shadow?

"Ex-Yakuza?"

He pulled out the pamphlet, holding it up to the sun just in case there was a hidden message, but found nothing. The logo of Last Ember was simple, and the whole pamphlet screamed, “Just a regular, little café with nothing to hide because it has nothing to hide.”

He glanced down at his wrist. Was he really that skinny? He knew he was thin, but AFO had always said he looked just fine, so he’d never thought much of it. Not like he could gain weight easily, with his constant stomach aches and how often he threw up.

He decided to refocus his mind, there was still a lot to do, and he shouldn’t dwell on what had just happened. He’d definitely visit that old man again, if only to learn more about him or, at the very least, to punch him for today.

For now, he headed to a different café with free Wi-Fi to download historical maps of Kamino. The place would close in about fifteen minutes anyway, so the waitstaff had long since stopped caring whether everyone using the Wi-Fi was actually a customer. Besides, the connection was so slow, they wouldn’t lose much.

Not long afterward, he returned at dusk as promised to the same alleyway where his guardian was waiting. The dark, misty figure blended seamlessly into the shadows, aside from the white-gray suit. But he wasn’t going to comment on that, especially since most of his own clothes were white as well.

-Welcome back. How was the walk?

-Saw a few interesting spots, but nothing suitable for a base.

He touched the pamphlet in his pocket but decided not to mention it. Not yet.

-Should I search for something tonight myself?

-We’ll go together. I spotted a few good vantage points, we’ll check which buildings don’t have any lights on. - He looked down at the map on his phone. - We should also check the docks…. - He leaned against the wall, still examining the map. - The old railway is probably taken by now…

He recalled the times he’d pored over maps with AFO, learning how to plan effective escape routes, anticipate shortcuts, and organize hideouts to form a secure urban network and much, MUCH more. The Number One Villain, by choice, had devoted more time to him than anyone else.

He began to shake, his heartbeat quickening again. He gritted his teeth, spread out a nearby trash bag, and slid down to sit on the ground.

“He couldn’t have died. He couldn’t have.”

His breathing grew ragged once again. He scratched at the barely healed wounds on his neck and struggled with all his might not to scream, pressing his father’s hand against his face, but it barely helped.

Thank gods Kurogiri was there, thank gods he understood him enough, and thank gogs he had a blanket to shield him from the world. They’d have a long night ahead of them in a few hours, and Shigaraki Tomura had to be ready.

#bnha #art #bnha au #bnha fanfiction #shigaraki tomura #mva upon us #artists on tumblr #bnva upon us #upon us #writers on tumblr #nelesdostuff

1 note · View note