Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

All things considered, it was kind of strange how ordinarily this entire situation had started. It was a lazy Sunday — the first day off she’d really given herself in months between cram school, swim practice, and studying for entrance exams. She was just laying on the couch playing Animal Crossing on her Switch, when her Dad entered the room, oh so casually bringing up:

“You know the President of my company? He’s got a son that’s about your age.”

Oh no. She knew that tone of voice. That was the, “Let’s get excited about something awful” voice that made her Dad think he was so slick. The, “help me clean the gutters” and “you have an orthodontist appointment” voice. Indicating that it was something so supremely unenjoyable that he needed to trick her into thinking it was something fun or god-forbid cool beforehand.

“He even went to your school, isn’t that neat?”

She shot him a glare. No. No, that was not especially neat . They were a couple of rich kids that lived in the same commuter vicinity of a private school near her fathers’ company. A school that every employee of said company got a nice little stipend to send their kids to due to the large donations that the head of that company made every year. Of course they went to the same school. It was practically custom made for them.

“The President has expressed a lot of interest in introducing you two to each other. Thinks you’ll be a good influence on him!”

“Why does he even know about me? That’s a little creepy.” she joked.

Her Dad was less than amused, “Of course I talk about you with my coworkers. Not to mention you’ve met him at company parties.”

“Huh. I don’t remember.”

That was kind of a lie. She did remember. She particularly remembered that the company president liked to talk about himself and his visions a lot . To the point that she had started calling him “All For One”, in her mind and had completely forgotten his real name. But in all honesty, she didn’t really think about her Dad’s job — let alone his boss — unless she really had to, unless it was right in front of her. So maybe the more honest response would’ve been “I don’t care”, but that was pretty rude.

He reached over, forcibly pausing her game, “That’s because you always have your face buried in your devices, Peanut.”

She rolled her eyes playfully, unpausing the game just as quickly. “What’s his name?”

“Tomura. Do you know him?”

Her fingers froze, her little villager sprite swaying on loop as they waited for her to click forward to the next dialogue option.

Oh she knew him alright. Everybody at her school knew him. Tomura Shigaraki was a fucking freak . And not in the Judd Apatow, misunderstood renegade type of way — this guy was genuinely creepy. The type of guy that brought knives to school. That stole underwear from girls’ lockers (although this was never proven). One of the senpai in her club was convinced that Tomura was stalking her last year. And he was the type to get away with it all. And now she knew why.

Kamino High had universally let out a sigh of relief when the creep had graduated back in April.

“I think it’d be a good idea.” her father continued, “He’s a first year at Todai, now. Maybe he could give you some entrance exam pointers.”

“No, I think I’ll be okay.” she said.

“He likes video games.” her dad tried to sell.

“Most kids my age do, Dad. It’s really not that big of a selling point.”

“What if you just—”

“Dad.” she sat up suddenly, “I really don’t want to.”

He looked at her genuinely surprised. This wasn’t like his daughter to so vehemently oppose him on something. Especially when he was making it clear that it was something important.

“Why not?”

“Because he’s creepy! I don’t like him and I don’t want to spend time with him.” she insisted.

He frowned, “Honey, how can you say that? You don’t even know him.”

“Yeah and I’d like to keep it that way.”

Her dad sighed, “Come on, kiddo. I thought I raised you better than this.”

She looked down to her feet, guilt making its way slowly but surely through her body.

“I’ve met this kid. Sure he’s a bit of an odd duck, but I don’t think he deserves to be called a creep for that. He’s just a little awkward and lonely. Honestly, I think he just needs a friend.”

“And his Dad thinks I’d make a good one…?” she muttered.

“I think you’d make a good one.”

He leaned over, pinching her cheek teasingly, “You’re my friend after all!”

She snorted, swatting his hand away lightly, “Oh god, please stop.”

“Just hang out with him one time, alright? Can you do that for me?”

She sighed, “Fine .”

Her Dad grinned, clapping his hands together excitedly, “Great! It’s a playdate!”

“Please don’t call it that!”

For how much of a selling point her Dad had tried to make of Shigaraki supposedly being a gamer, she was a little peeved that he made her leave her handheld at home. She knew why of course. If she brought her own game, she technically didn’t have to interact with him at all while still living up to her side of the agreement — that’s why she wanted it after all.

But no. He wanted from her what he was so used to seeing her put into everything: 100% effort and a perky smile. And so now she had very little to distract herself from the anxiety bubbling in her stomach and bouncing her leg as her father drove her. (Seemingly to her doom).

Her leg was bouncing so much in fact, that she barely even recognized the actual vibrating of her phone in her skirt pocket. 

She pulled it out and opened her texts, a smile instantly settling on her face as she saw who it was from.

Mirio Togata ❤

[Have fun today!]

[Please save me. (｡ŏ﹏ŏ)]

[You’re gonna be fine, hon.]

[Okay, but you do remember who

Shigaraki is, right?]

[yeah…]

[So how can this possibly be fine?]

[Idk. It was all just rumors about him

at the end of the day, right? Maybe the 

guy’s just misunderstood.]

[Now you sound like my dad -_-]

[Well maybe he has a point. Lol]

[You know, people used to think that

Tamaki was creepy too.] 

[And you like Tamaki, right?]

Aww, Tamaki. That poor sweet treasurer of the swim team that couldn’t even bring himself to stand on the podium of their last meet despite coming first in the boys' 200 yard fly. Her heart squeezed at the thought. 

[Of course I do!! That boy is too pure 

for this world ｡ﾟ( ﾟஇ‸இﾟ)ﾟ｡]

[See? Just give the guy a chance.]

[For your dad’s sake at least.]

She sighed. He was right. Of course he was right. And so was her dad. Even she could admit that she was being overly-judgmental of the guy who’d been officially guilty of nothing more than ogling a few girls in their swimsuits. And yet, she just couldn’t shove down the growing sense of dread in her gut completely.

But she’d keep that to herself. She still didn’t want to be a bother. She didn’t want to cause a problem.

“Hey we’re almost there.” her Dad said, “So put that phone away." 

[Yeah okay]

[I’ve gotta go]

[Love you! ( ˘ ³˘)❤] 

She paused, her heart quickening at the last message from her boyfriend. But not in the way it should’ve. Not in a good way. And it wasn’t the first time either.

She wasn’t sure why panic set in when he said that word. Mirio was a dream boyfriend - handsome, kind, funny, and her family loved him. He had a way of just lighting up every room he was in and she never had a bad time with him. Not to mention he’s never pressured her to do anything, despite them dating for six months already. He was everything she could ever hope for in a boyfriend. And yet…

[ ❤（￣ε￣ʃƪ）]

…she could never bring herself to say it back.

“Peanut .” her Dad said warningly — the type of tone that was just one step away from dropping nicknames and getting actually mad.

“I know, I know.” she surrendered, making a big show of pocketing her phone, “Where even is this place?”

Her Dad pointed straight ahead as they turned towards what looked almost like a hotel driveway — and her jaw dropped.

The Shigarakis lived in a skyrise that just from the outside looked disgustingly opulent. It was the tallest building in the swankiest part of the city, the type with required valet, uniformed security guards, and even an elevator attendant. 

And of course, they lived in the penthouse.

Now, her family certainly wasn’t wanting for anything. They lived in a single family home in one of the nicer parts of Setagaya — one with centralized AC and a two-car garage, and they took regular family vacations to Taiwan and Hawaii. And yet the word “commoner” still felt branded across her forehead when compared to the Shigarakis. She couldn’t feel more uncomfortable by the wage gap if she found out that they owned this building. And as it turned out — as explained by her father as the doorman let them in— they did.

Everything from the elevator ride to walking into the middle of their contemporary minimalist living room went by in a blur. A butler — she was pretty sure he introduced himself as Kurogiri — had escorted them and quickly excused himself to inform the Shigarakis of their arrival. But she’d been so overwhelmed by the luxury of their home and the bad feeling growing heavier in her stomach that she couldn’t even remember his face. Only a black mist remained in her memory, and she made a note to herself to take a good look at him to correct this next time he came down.

“You made it!”

She looked up to the top of the floating staircase, where “All For One” descended in great grandeur. He could’ve been wearing a cape for how high and mighty he held his head and how wide he spread his arms. The boy trailing behind him however had the complete opposite energy — although it was no less unnerving.

His clothes were all black and all wrinkled. A hoodie and pair of joggers that probably fit his willowy body at some point, but had been so heavily worn for so long that they were completely stretched out and now pooled around his every slouched joint. His pale mop of uneven (although admittedly fluffy looking) hair looked like it hadn’t seen a brush or a decent barber shop in the better part of a year. His skin was just as dried and scarred as she remembered it, maybe worse considering his notorious scratching habit. Her senpai that was in his class had once told her about a time where he scratched his neck bloody when the calculus teacher called him up to solve an equation. He’d gotten blood all over the chalk and even dripped onto the board without batting an eye, ignoring the teacher’s pleading to go to the nurse’s office.

And he’d solved the equation perfectly.

None of this in itself was a problem to her, a guy this rich could dress and present himself however the fuck he wanted to, although a part of her did wonder why someone as obsessed with images and self-preservation as All For One would let him. The issue she had was with the way that he stared at her, unblinking and hateful as he picked at a scab on his neck the entire trek down the stairs.

That was Tomura Shigaraki alright, looking just as creepy and withdrawn as she remembered.

“President.” her father presented her, “You remember my daughter.”

“Why of course!” All for One grinned, approaching her, “My, you must’ve been in middle school last time I saw you.”

The way he smiled… It was wide and immaculately charming, and yet something felt off about it. She wrote it off in her mind as just being a God-tier level of a customer service smile he’d mastered over the thirty years of building his company. Maybe she’d get there with her own fake smile some day. 

“At least.” she bowed politely, shoving her nervousness as far back into her psyche as possible, “It’s an honor to meet you again, Shigaraki-sama.”

“And so polite! You have certainly grown into a beautiful young lady.” He turned to his son,  “Hasn’t she, Tomura?”

“Huh?” he finally broke his staring contest with the side of her face, realizing that he was being talked to.

He looked away, muttering irritably, “I-I dunno…”

A pretty rude response, all things considered. But she was just happy to finally be free of his leering. Even if the long silence that followed was unbearably awkward.

All For One broke it with a succinct and enthusiastic clap, “Wonderful! I can already see you two are going to be fast friends. We’ll go ahead and get out of your hair now.”

Her stomach dropped. She looked to her Dad, who looked just as surprised by the announcement as her.

“Y-You’re leaving?”

“Well surely you two don’t want to hang out with us geezers, do you?” All For One laughed.

She shot her Dad a pleading look. But before he could even acknowledge it, let alone respond to it, All For One was already pulling his attention away.

“How’s your golf game, my friend?”

“I’m… Admittedly a bit rusty.” her Dad said modestly.

All for One laughed, “Well, why don’t we give you a good polish and go play a few rounds at my Country Club? It’ll give us a chance to talk about your future at the company.”

His eyes widened, glowing at the opportunity in a way that his daughter knew she couldn’t pull him away from if she tried.

“Th-That’d be great!”

All For One’s grin got even wider, if that was possible, “Wonderful ! Kurogiri, pull the car around!”

Her father shot her a sincerely apologetic look, but let his boss lead him out the front door anyway.

“Please make yourself at home, my dear.” All for One told her. 

Her father paused in the doorway, looking at her pointedly, “And play nice, Peanut.”

And with that, she was alone with Tomura Shigaraki.

They stood across from each other for what felt like way too long. She shifted from foot to foot, trying to figure out what to do, what to say. She was obviously uncomfortable and flustered, and Shigaraki just watched her suffer. The vaulted ceilings were suddenly looking very interesting…

After what felt like ages of painful silence, she found her voice, “So—”

She honestly wasn’t sure what she was going to say, but she had no chance to discover even for herself when Shigaraki just turned and walked away without a word.

She stood dumbfounded, watching the boy pad lazily up the stairs and out of sight — only snapped out of her stupor at the sound of a slamming door.

…the fuck? 

What did she do now? Was she supposed to stay? Was she supposed to follow him? If he’d been expecting her to come with him, she’d have thought he would’ve said something, or at least paused at the top of the stairs when he realized that she wasn’t moving.

Maybe she could just stay down here in the living room. All for One had told her to make herself comfortable after all — he probably wouldn’t mind if she just raided the kitchen for some snacks and watched Netflix on their giant TV, right? She’d put money on them having really nice, fancy snacks too — like small-batch kombucha and dried fruit. Maybe Shigaraki wanted her to stay down here too. Maybe he was just as irritated and embarrassed by this mandatory-fun situation as she was and they could just agree to lie and say they had a good time when their dads came back.

She sighed and shook the idea out of her head. No. No, that wasn’t gonna fly. There was no way for them to get their stories straight if they didn't at least talk about it first. And, well…

…she’d promised her Dad that she’d at least try. 

And so she found herself trudging up the grand floating staircase of this grand, fucking apartment. It spit her out into a hallway that housed doors to far more rooms than this place had any right to possess. They were all closed, a distinct aura of “Do Not Enter” wafting from each one. She padded down the hall, trying to figure out which was Shigaraki’s.

Finally she stood in front of the one where the blue light of computer screens and the sounds of medieval RPG combat systems seeped out from under.

She knocked. No response. Her better judgment told her to just leave it at that — to take the lack of answer as permission to leave Shigaraki the fuck alone. But her love for her father and her desperate desire to not make waves in his life convinced her to knock one more time.

This time she was thrown a grunt from the other side. She sighed. She should’ve just left, she knew it. But it was too late now.

She opened the door.

The smell of the room was the first to hit her — a gag-inducing cocktail of sickly sweet energy drinks, stale and soured food, and sweat. And much to her dismay, the smell wasn’t happy with a jump scare to her senses and quick escape into the ether. This shit lingered . 

The next thing she noticed was the state of the room. It was like a tornado of hikikomoris ransacked the place. Dirty clothes were piled along the room in a mountain range, accompanied by neighboring sierras of filled trash bags piled just as high. Stacks of dirty dishes and instant ramen containers decorated every flat surface.

If she really looked hard, she could see what was once a vestige of nerdish normalcy to the room. Shelves of manga, figures, and video game cases, limited edition posters from comic conventions and game releases haphazardly taped on the walls. An impressive wall of gaming equipment that included a flat screen tv, a custom-built desktop with three monitors, at least five different gaming consoles, and a gaming chair that she was pretty sure cost more than her school’s tuition.

This is the corner of the room Shigaraki was in, eyes glued to his Elden Ring boss fight.

She took a step forward, pausing as she felt her foot slip a little on something — evoking an audible tear.

She looked down to her foot and balked. 

A disgustingly well-read nudie magazine — one that had certain sections not only dog-eared, but stained. A porno. She had stepped on the man’s porno. That he had just left out in the middle of the room for her to see.

God, she made a mistake.

“What do you want?”

She snapped out of her disgust momentarily to look at Shigaraki, who still hadn’t even bothered to look at her despite the bark. With great difficulty, she threw on her best club-recruitment smile and approached him.

“Well, I’m here to hang out, right…?” she trailed off, hoping that he’d take the hint and either fill in the blank or tell her not to bother.

He did neither. He just continued to button mash with furious force. 

She continues, “... so we should probably, you know… Hang out?”

“Hang out then.” he grunted, “Wherever you want.”

She took another look around the room, scoping for a seat that maybe she’d missed upon first inspection. A chair that 100% did not exist. There was the unmade bed (not happening), a pro series floor rocker (in this skirt, also not happening), and the floor (which just from the feel of it through her socks was SUPER not happening). 

Standing and taking stock of the things on Shigaraki’s desk was undoubtedly the best opinion. 

Five game controllers — not counting the one currently in his claw grip. Three half empty bottles of something called swiftech hydrx coolant. One bottle of lotion — which guessing by the dryness of his skin, she was pretty sure was not for his face.

She was sufficiently distracting herself in this weird little world of Shigaraki’s, to the point that she didn’t notice him looking her up and down out the corner of his eyes. Lingering on every inch of skin, drinking up every curve. And in some weird, twisted way — both loving and hating it all.

“You still at Kamino High?”

She looked up in surprise, having happily reserved herself to awkward silence. From her perspective, Shigaraki still hadn’t taken his eyes off his game, but it was obvious he was waiting for a response.

“Uh, y-yeah. I’m a third year.” she answered.

“Still on the swim team?”

Her eyes narrowed. She didn’t like this. For someone who appeared to be completely uninterested in her presence, he sure remembered a lot about her.

“Yeah…” she answered with a nervous laugh, trying to play it cool, “Breast stroke and IM.”

“Is that supposed to mean something to me?”

“IM… It’s the Individual Medley — so I swim all four strokes in one… race…”

She trailed off. The complete disinterest from Shigaraki was palpable and made her feel more awkward with every word. Out of all the things she had been nervous about, all the gross creepy scenarios of how this day could’ve gone that played in her head — she’d genuinely never expected that he would be such an asshole. 

And her Dad had told her to play nice.

She was coming up on her last straw of patience. But damn it, she wasn’t one to not get back on the block after botching a dive.

“...You go to Todai now, right?” she probed, “What are you studying?”

“CS.”

“Oh.” she said, looking over his setup once again, “Yeah, I guess that makes sense...”

“You trying to get into Todai?” he muttered with an amount of bite that implied he already knew and was unimpressed by the answer.

She smiled nervously, “Well, yeah. I mean who doesn’t want to go to Todai—”

“I don’t tutor for free.”

Her eyes narrowed, “I wasn’t asking for tutoring.”

For the first time — from her point of view at least — Shigaraki spared a glance, amusement tugging on the corner of his lips.

She sighed. This whole ordeal was going nowhere fast. Obviously neither of them were enjoying this. Maybe it was best to just put them both out of their misery.

“Listen Shigaraki-san, I—”

“You still dating that meathead on your team? What was his name, Togata?”

She blinked. …How the fuck did he remember all that? She barely even remembered what Shigaraki’s name had been until her father reminded her. Not to mention Miro confessed to her no sooner than a week before what would’ve been Shigaraki’s graduation.

“Uh, yeah. For about six months now.”

“How’s his dick?”

She froze. There was no way she heard this guy right. And yet, thinking back to the magazine she’d stepped on, she had a sneaking suspicion that she did. 

“Excuse me?”

“Oh come on, big himbo school hero like that — he’s gotta be either packing or lacking, right?” He smirked, “So which is it? How much does he stretch you out?”

Her face flushed with equal parts embarrassment and anger.

“I-I don’t see how that’s any of your business!”

Shigaraki snorted, and looked at her, “Relax . We’re hanging out, right? So let’s talk.”

“Well I don’t want to talk about this…” she crossed her arms, self-conscious as, for the first time, she felt the full intention of his devouring stare.

Play nice, Peanut.

The words ricocheted in her ears, whipping her soul with guilt and determination. No, she couldn’t get angry and storm out now. She had to try.

She stammered, “We don’t have to talk…W-Why don’t we play something together?”

Shigaraki paused his game with a speed that took her by surprise. This whole time he’d seemed to only be half-listening to her, so engrossed in his game he couldn’t possibly think about anything else.

And yet here he was, turning his chair around and forgoing his perfect run all in one move.

“Oh? You want to play together? I’m game… Let’s play.” 

He was faster than she would’ve expected. Of course, she hadn't exactly expected him to shoot his hand up the back of her skirt and grab her ass. She leaped back with a yelp, slapping his hand away hard.

“W-What the fuck do you think you’re doing?!” she blushed.

Shigaraki smirked, completely unphased, “I thought you wanted to play?”

“You know that’s not what I meant.”

“Do I?” he stood suddenly, stalking over to her. She backed up. He was surprisingly tall.

“You couldn’t get up to my room fast enough. And here you’ve been begging for my attention like a bitch in heat.”

She gasped as she felt Shigaraki’s bed kiss the back of her legs. And the man himself was on her just as fast, shoving her down onto her back before she could think of her next move, caging her head between his arms.

“So what else am I supposed to think?” he breathed hot onto her face. 

Her eyes narrowed — her anger at the situation being the only thing to keep her from gagging.

She threw her hands against his chest, pushing hard. Whether it was due to his lack of muscle mass or lack of conviction, he was shoved back easily. She hurried to her feet, straightening out her clothes with a huff.

“I’m not fucking doing that.” she spat, turning tail and storming towards the exit.

“Oh yeah?” he called after her, “Then let’s see if your Dad has a job tomorrow!”

She froze. She hesitated a peak over her shoulder. Shigaraki, lounging back cheekily on the bed, stared right through her. His composure wasn’t shaken in the slightest, his smirk steady. And his big, spidery hand had started to palm himself through his joggers.

As much as she hated it, she couldn’t keep the fear from her face.

He wouldn’t do it — no. No, she was almost certain that he would. But he couldn’t do it. There’s no way that her rejection of him could have any effect on her Dad’s job. The real world didn’t work like that. Adults were more reasonable than this crusty man-child wanted her to believe.

She glared and turned to finish her trek out of the room.

She was calling his bluff.

Shigaraki hadn’t been bluffing. Boy she couldn’t believe how much he had not been bluffing. Sitting on her living room couch, head dropped in shame, she racked her brain trying to think of how she could’ve possibly handled this situation differently. Some alternate action that didn’t include letting the way-too-powerful-for-his-own-good incel feel her up, but she supposed it didn’t matter now. 

What if’s did nothing for the fact that her father was currently pacing in the kitchen, begging for his job over the phone.

“P-Please President, I’m sure she didn’t mean anything malicious by it.”

Her heart seized at the desperation in his voice. She’d never heard him like this. As dorky as she typically thought her father was, she also knew that he was a kind, hardworking and confident man. While he whole-heartedly embraced taking responsibility and apologizing, she’d never heard him grovel .

And the cold condescension that came from All For One over the speaker did little to lessen her worry.

“Please know that I don’t take this decision lightly — you’ve done nothing but stellar work for this company through all of your tenure. But I just truly wonder that if you can’t keep your own daughter in line, how on earth are you handling our high-level clients? That level of disrespect doesn’t just come out of nowhere, it’s learned . And I shudder to think about where she has learned it from. ”

“I completely understand, President. Please, I’ll talk to her — she’ll come straight over and apologize, just give me one more chance…” 

The rest of the conversation faded into a blur in her mind. Tomura Shigaraki had done it. That cunning fucker had actually ran to his daddy and told him— God who even knows what he’d told him? That she’d disrespected and harassed him, bullied him? The details weren’t the point — this 19 year old actually held her father’s career — the fate of their family in his hands. And he was happy to decay it at the drop of a hat.

She was brought out of her thoughts by her father suddenly looming tall and angry over her. He wasn’t on the phone anymore. He was focused all on her.

“You are going over there and apologizing to Tomura first thing in the morning.” he commanded.

“D-Dad—” she breathed.

“No! No excuses. I don’t care what you don’t like about him — this is bigger than you. This is my job. Do you want to end up on the street?!”

She dropped her head, trying desperately to bite the tears back.

“I am very disappointed in you, young lady.”

“I… I’m sorry.” she sobbed, “I'm so sorry, Daddy.

His face softened slightly. He hated seeing his daughter like this. She was a good girl, he had no idea what had gotten into her to behave like this and put his job at risk. It wasn’t like her. He wanted to comfort her and ask what was wrong, if something was going on at school. If cram school and the pressure to get into a good college while maintaining her swim record was becoming too much. But he couldn’t. Not now. This was Maslow’s hierarchy of needs at its cruelest. He needed to make sure his job was secure, to keep a roof over his daughter’s head before he could worry about her esteem. He had to stay strong.

And so he said, “I’m not the one you need to apologize to.”

Chapter Text

“Ohhh yeah. That’s real fucking nice.”

She looked away, cheeks burning, unable to watch Shigaraki kneel down in front of her. Her hands trembled as she held her school skirt up for him, just as he’d ordered. 

“But white panties?” he snorted, “Just who are you trying to fool?”

This was getting really old, really fucking fast. He’d already spent a good twenty minutes pawing at her chest like a monkey with a soccer ball. Squeezing and twisting and burying his face in with reckless abandon, all the while making those disparaging stupid little comments.

She had to hold back a whimper as he suddenly ran his thumb along her panty line.

“Hey.” he spat, “Don’t fucking look away.”

She turned her head back down, staring blankly at his fingers swirling and prodding with abandon. If she just watched his hands, maybe she could pretend that they were attached to somebody else. It was a little easier to do now. He’d cut his nails since yesterday, albeit unevenly and right down to the nub.

Like he’d been expecting this to happen.

His middle finger stroked a particularly sweet spot, causing her to close her eyes with a sigh. She could work with this. If this was all she had to endure, maybe she could get through this experience without gagging.

“The fuck did I just say? Look me in the eye.”

Her brows furrowed. She regretfully batted her eyes open. As slow as possible. Anything to delay the sight of the awful, arrogant red of his eyes.

Shigaraki grinned, wide and horrible. A juvenile little giggle slipped through the corners of his lips as he saw the indignation in her eyes.

“Oh come on, those can’t be your bedroom eyes.” he said, “Let me see the real look you give when all those jocks fuck you.”

God, why did he keep saying shit like that? Calling her a slut, negging her about her “filthy little body” — about her sex life.

A sex life that if this incel bastard had any ability to understand body language or social dynamics, he’d realize was completely nonexistant. Of course, if the man had had any semblance of social intelligence, she probably wouldn’t even be in this situation right now. Regardless, the fact remained:

She was a virgin.

And yet he continued, “Fuck are you this wet for everyone, or am I just special?”

“Oh you’re special alright.” she spat, “You fucking freak.”

Shigaraki’s eyes narrowed, “You know, I think we should put that mouth of yours to better work.”

He flopped back into his floor rocker, man-spreading wide and expectant. Her nose crinkled as she looked at the stretch of floor in between his legs — that grimey, crusty looking carpet that she was positive would rival a Jackson Pollock under a black light. She could feel her stomach churning at the idea of touching it already, and that was without Shigaraki’s cock in her mouth.

“Hurry up!”

She glared at him, “I… I’m not touching that floor.”

Shigaraki snorted, “Don’t be cute. I’m positive you’ve sucked dick on worse.”

“I haven’t.” she deadpanned.

Shigaraki started to scratch at his neck, quickly growing annoyed, “You wanna be picky? Fine, pick where you want to bend over and I’ll fuck you in the ass and be done with it.”

Her chest tightened. There was really no getting out of this, she knew that already. But whatever hope she had of having even a semblance of control over this situation, of maintaining even a shred of dignity — it all evaporated into thin air.

And so she lowered to her knees miserably. The floor was just as caked and sticky as she feared it would be, and the smell was even worse. She crawled up between Shigaraki’s legs, the tacky fibers of the carpet clinging to her palms every time she lifted one over the other.

She stopped just before the outstretch of his knees, her stomach growing even heavier as she came mere inches away from the erection straining against his joggers — not to mention the feverish, expectant grin attached to it.

Steeling herself with a shaky inhale, she reached forward and clutched the waistband of his joggers. She dipped her fingers a bit deeper, searching for the underwear that she’d need to pull down as well.

She didn’t find them.

“What’re you worried about your sperm count or something?” she spat.

Shigaraki’s grin widened, “I guess you’ll find out, won’t you?”

She bit back her next insult, predicting that he only had the patience for a quip or two more before he turned aggressive again. And pushing him to that point wouldn’t do her any favors. She just needed to suck his dick and get this over with. She might’ve been a virgin too, but this man was a fucking virgin amongst virgins — there was no way he’d last more than a couple seconds. She just had to get in and get out, like ripping off a band-aid. 

A horribly pale, crusty, and demeaning band-aid.

Shigaraki lifted his hips slightly as she yanked down his pants — bringing them down to his thighs in one fell swoop. His hard-on narrowly missed smacking her in the chin, slapping back against his own stomach with a wet “plap!” instead.

Her eyes widened slightly at the sight. Maybe it was the fact that she hadn’t seen one in person before, or maybe it was just in comparison to the rest of his spindly body — but that dick looked kind of big. She quickly reeled her surprise in — she refused to grant him even the mental satisfaction of thinking for a second that Tomura Shigaraki had a big cock. Although, by the sound of that throaty giggle of his, she was worried that maybe she was too late.

She shifted to kneel over his lap, pausing as her chest was caught by the stretch of his pants against his knees. While she’d never complain about not being able to reach his dick, she still wondered how the fuck was she supposed to do this in the first place? Did she duck under the pants? Move to his side? Go home maybe?

“Take them all the way off, idiot.” he growled.

Fucking fine .

She pulled the rest of the material from his legs, dropping it unceremoniously to the floor immediately next to him — she fully expected him to cover his ugly self the second this debacle was over. Of course, he didn’t seem to share this idea if his current exhibition level was anything to go by. He dropped his knees open again, spreading even wider than before. He reached down and held his dick up, putting his scrotum on full display.

“Start with the balls.”

She hadn’t heard a worse set of four words since “I’m game… Let’s play.”

Rip off the band-aid. Just rip off the fucking band-aid and get the hell out of here. She could do this. She had to do this.

She pressed her tongue tentatively flat against the lower surface of his scrotum, earning a satisfied sigh from the creep above her. She peaked up, taking stock of the way his eyes closed and brow line furrowed, of the shaky little exhales slipping out of his mouth like this was genuinely the greatest thing he’d ever experienced (and it probably was).

She dragged the flat of her tongue slow and steady across the curve of Shigaraki’s balls. His panting intensified.

For all intents and purposes (and strangely enough, from this angle), she honestly didn’t think Tomura Shigaraki was that bad looking. He needed a hair brush and an appointment with a good dermatologist, yes. But his face shape was good, he had an unexpected bit of tone to his body from what she could see of the stretch of stomach his raised sweatshirt revealed. And those noises — well, somewhere buried deep down in a hidden village of “I will never fucking admit it, even to myself” there was something kind of arousing about someone who was so enthralled and puddified with her just licking his balls.

Love you! ( ˘ ³˘)❤

A wave of guilt suddenly flooded her stomach, hot and heavy, as Mirio’s face popped into her mind. What the actual fuck was wrong with her? How could she possibly feel anything close to pride in this situation? Every lick, every gasp — every second that she spent in this stuffy mess of a bedroom wasn’t just a violation of her own body, but a betrayal of literally the nicest human being on the planet. 

A person that even in this moment, she couldn’t convince herself to love.

“P-Put them in your mouth.” Shigaraki gasped out, pulling her from her thoughts.

A new shade of shame settled in her throat. If he was this much of a mess just from a few strokes of the tongue, she genuinely wondered what he’d do when—

She dipped her bottom lip lower, engulfing him almost instantly.

“ Shit.. .” he groaned, encouraging her to suck a bit deeper, “Ngh, yeah that’s it. Sh-Shit— ow, shit!”

He smacked his palm into her forehead, shoving her away abruptly, “Not so rough, you idiot!”

She glared, unamused by the irony coming from the man that just palm-striked her brow. “I’m sorry, do you have a preferred mbar you’d like me to suck at?”

It was becoming quickly apparent that Shigaraki had a lot less patience for her snark once his dick was actually out. Because rather than dignifying her with a response, he just gripped his cock and smacked her roughly in the mouth with it.

“Get on with it.” he growled, grabbing the back of her head and pushing her further and further down into his crotch until she had no choice but to let his cockhead slip past her lips.

Once his cock was actually in though, he eased up on the force of his hand, opting to just thread his fingers through her hair and allow her to do the work. He wanted to see what she was made of.

Which admittedly was not much.

Shigaraki flinched, “W-Watch your teeth, idiot.” 

She didn’t say a word, just imagined for a second what it would be like to live in a world with superpowers where maybe she could’ve caused his head to explode with only a look.

She pushed her lips back against his dick, licking and french kissing up and down the shaft. Quick, clueless and clinical actions that did absolutely nothing for Shigaraki. 

And it was pissing him off.

He yanked her back suddenly by her roots, “Jesus, I don’t get how you’re so popular if this is the kind of head you give.”

She glared up at him, “Like a creep like you even knows the difference.”

He gripped her hair even tighter. “Open your mouth.” 

She sighed and all but said “ah”.

“Wider.”

She obeyed, half-heartedly — opening her mouth like she was about to eat a strawberry.

“Wider .”

She gave him another inch. But Shigaraki was obviously looking for a mile.

He pulled her head up past his dick as he leaned down to meet her. She closed her eyes, preparing herself for what she was sure would be a suckerpunch of a kiss.

But Shigaraki spat in her mouth instead. She reeled back with a squawk, absolutely horrified and humiliated by the sensation. And apparently that was the level of wideness that he was looking for. Wide enough so that he could shove his cock straight down her throat.

“Hrrgh—!”

“Oh fuck .”

She gagged immediately — from his cockhead playing pool with her uvula, or her nose being smashed straight into his pelvic bone — she wasn’t sure. But no matter how hard she smacked his thigh to stop, he wouldn’t let up.

His other hand quickly found its place on the other side of her head — using the full weight of his upper body strength to bounce her head like a rubber ball in gym class. Up and down, up and down he pumped into her throat with such harshness, she was pretty sure it would bruise if that was even possible.

“God damn it, that’s good.” 

Dread and bile bubbled hot in her stomach — and she internally thanked the heavens that she didn’t have an appetite this morning. She was terrified of what would happen to her dad’s job if she ended up throwing up on Tomura Shigaraki’s dick.

She honestly couldn’t figure out the worst part of this situation — the action of having her throat fucked itself, the guilt she had over cheating on Mirio, the fear that her teeth would involuntarily scratch his dick enough to get her dad fired anyway…

…or the fact that she could feel herself becoming unforgivingly wet in spite of it all. 

She slapped desperately at Shigaraki’s thighs. It didn’t slow his pace even slightly. 

“F-Fuck, knock that shit off. You’re a swimmer, I know you can hold your breath this long— oh shiiiit. ”

He was getting close. Even if she didn’t know what an orgasming man looked like, he was showing some pretty obvious tells. His grip on her hair grew impossibly tighter. He pumped her head up and down even faster. His hips started to buck up out of the rocker all on their own, frantic and stuttering. And then of course there was:

“ Fuck , just like that you fucking slut. Like that—!” 

His hips locked flush against her face, cum spurting and clinging to every inch of her throat like hot, acrid glue. Everything was burning — her lungs, her scalp, her sinuses. Even her muffled cries were reduced to croaky gurgles as every inch of her pharynx both closed and filled tighter and tighter.

Shigaraki pulled his cock out just as fast as he’d shoved it in. She dropped like a rock to that horrible carpet, the sudden rush of air to her respiratory system only exacerbating the coughing and hacking fit he sent her into. 

He watched it all in glee.

“Hahaha, holy shit! ”

She glanced up at him through misty lashes as her gagging steadied to a wheeze. Her face had never felt so wet outside of the pool. Raw lips soaked with a cocktail of saliva, snot, and cum — damnit she was pretty sure some of that spunk had even come out of her nose.

“Look at that face.” he giggled, intoxicated by the glassiness of her eyes, the redness of her cheeks, “ That’s why you're so popular.”

She dropped her gaze back down, burying her head into the floor with a groan. She was about ready to suck the energy drink from this carpet to get the awful taste of Shigaraki’s cum from her mouth. Her head and neck were pounding, she was pretty sure he’d torn more than a few little spots inside her cheeks that would no doubt become canker sores.

Okay, admittedly that was a bit worse than even she was expecting. But at least it was all over now.

“ Get on the bed.”

…

Motherfucker .

“But… But you came already…” she breathed, “C-Can’t I just go home?”

“ Sure, go home.” he leered, rising to stand over her, “Your Dad will need the help applying for unemployment after all.”

She tried desperately to swallow the lump in her throat. But it was there to stay along with the burning and bruising from Shigaraki’s overenthusiastic face-fucking. 

Her arms trembled as she pushed herself back onto her knees, heavy and weary from lack of oxygen.

“Aww, is the poor little slut having a hard time getting up?”

He leaned down to her eye level, grinning perversely, “Then crawl .”

Whether it was from her indignation for that demeaning command, or the fact that her breathing was finally evening out — she suddenly felt a new wind of strength. She pushed herself to her feet, glaring at Shigaraki the whole way up, which he seemed to relish in.

She walked to the bed, trying to keep her head high and piece together at least some of her dignity. Shigaraki followed close behind her and spread his hand wide between her shoulder blades. If he were a better man, she would’ve thought that this was to steady or hold her as an act of chivalry.

Instead, Shigaraki shoved her torso down so that she was bent tight over his bed.

She hit the mattress with a bounce. She wanted to tell him off for being so rough with her. But she lost her words as Shigaraki suddenly flipped up her skirt.

“Oh you are such a liar .” Shigaraki growled.

He ran his finger long and slow across the crotch of her panties, basking in the feel of their soak. 

“You made such a fuss, but look at you. Getting your throat fucked totally turned you on.”

She grabbed onto the loose, twisted comforter under her, pulling it close so that she could hide her face in it. Hide her shame from this asshole. But infuriatingly, he wouldn’t be fooled.

Shigaraki hooked his thumbs on the edges of her panties and pulled them down slow. So slow, watching the flimsy cotton peel off her body inch, by inch. It clung tighter the closer to her core it was — like a t-shirt caught in the rain. He couldn’t hold back the excited giggle as he watched the last of it pare from her pussy, a string of arousal connecting them.

“ Look at this.” he groaned, “What a slutty little pussy.” 

He grabbed for her immediately, hands squeezing and spreading her cheeks wide in a way that was irritatingly not unpleasant. He latched his mouth to her apex just as fast and sucked the arousal straight out of her. 

The sound was absolutely obscene, and the cry the actions elicited from her made the room feel downright pornographic. She honestly wasn’t even sure if it felt good or bad, but Shigaraki seemed satisfied with her reaction regardless.

He pulled back with a smirk and gave her ass a loud smack, “Keep making noises like that, and maybe I’ll let you come.”

She hated that that was the carrot he was dangling over her nose. And hated her body even more for yearning for it. So she opted to bite the shit out of the carrot, regardless of the trouble it’d get her in.

“Like you could .” she spat.

Shigaraki snorted, “You say that like it’s hard to get you off.”

His thumbs hooked on the lips of her pussy, spreading her impossibly wider, “But fucking look at you.”

She was almost surprised by how much of her shit-talking he seemed to be able to brush off, ego completely intact. But then she remembered that he had her half naked and bent over his bed and supposed that that level of power would hold anyone’s ego together.

“Your body’s just begging for it!”

Suddenly, Shigaraki jammed his ring and middle finger straight into her, ripping a yelp from her throat that seemed to even surprise him.

The penetration itself didn’t hurt initially, her wetness made sure of that. But it was foreign and sudden and deep . She’d never reached that far or penetrated that fast on her own. The feeling was so new that it winded her.

Shigaraki looked down at her in surprise. For how bolshie she’d been, (not to mention how many guys he was positive she’d fucked), he certainly hadn’t been expecting that strong of a reaction to being fingered. Nor had he been expecting—

“Jesus, how is a slut like you so fucking tight?” he started to drag his fingers back, “This is just ridiculous.”

She gasped and gripped the sheets tighter as he drove his fingers back in, setting a breakneck pace against her most tender spot. Ok, now that was starting to hurt.

“Sh-Shigaraki, please!” she gasped out, “S-Slow down.”

“You’re kidding right? Shouldn’t a whore like you like it rough?”

It was like he wasn’t satisfied with a thrust unless he reached even deeper than before, like he was digging for her cervix. It was starting to make her feel a bit sick.

“I-I don’t know, I don’t—” she gasped at a particularly brutal pump, “Please, it hurts! It’s starting to hurt!”

Shigaraki cocked a brow. He glanced down to his fingers, almost fully withdrawn to the tips. But as soon as he saw them, he double-took.

Their coating was tinged slightly pink.

His eyes widened, “There’s no way…”

Her chest heaved as she caught her breath, grateful for his momentary shock to give her insides a break. 

“There’s no fucking way that you’re…” it became a question, “... a virgin?”

She stared hard at the wall in front of her, trying to remember that WebMD article she read a while back about healing car sickness. Pick one spot and stare at it, look into the horizon.

His free hand shot forward, gripping her chin roughly. He pulled it back to look at him.

“ Answer me .”

Her eyes dropped in shame. She nodded weakly.

There was a long, long silence after that. No movement. She could feel the epiphany shift the energy in the room around her. For a moment, it gave her hope. Maybe he realized that this was wrong. He was feeling guilty and he’d let this all go. Even if he tore her dignity and self-respect to pieces in this last hour, maybe at least he’d let her leave with an intact hymen.

“Th-That’s…”

But then she looked back up at his face 

And saw the most revolting smile she’d ever seen in her life. She didn’t think his mouth could get that wide, for those eyes to look so intoxicated. He was absolutely lecherous, the desire to defile seeping from every crack in his skin.

“...That’s great ! That’s SO fucking great!” he practically cackled, “I can’t believe it! All those popular boyfriends, those little school heroes you’ve surrounded yourself with — and I’m gonna take your virginity?!”

She dropped her head down, burrowing her way deeper and deeper into the sheets. 

“Holy shit, what will your boyfriend say?!”

Fuck, what would Mirio say? It broke her heart to know that he would be completely understanding and loving. That he would instantly drag her to a school counselor and insist that she tell them what happened, regardless of the consequences.

“I know you’re worried about your Dad’s job .” he’d say, “ But we can’t just pretend nothing happened. We have to do the right thing.” 

He was so brave and confident, always positive that good would win out in the end. She could never understand it. She would only be able to go along and pretend like she also thought it was the right thing to do. And she'd feel so guilty too, lying to him about how horrifying and violent the experience was. How she kicked and screamed the whole time. How she hated every second about it. 

Even though the truth was that she’d never been wetter in her life.

 And she’d feel so much more guilty about how that wasn’t even the first time she’d lied about her feelings to Mirio. Not the first time by a long shot.

She pulled the bed sheets practically into her mouth. She didn’t care if she suffocated on them at this point, she just needed to get these sounds and images out of her head, she needed to disassociate.

But Shigaraki wouldn’t let her. He flipped her roughly onto her back. 

“Oh no, no, no. I wanna see the look on your face...” he giggled, leaning in close, “When I make you my little slut.”

She looked up at him reluctantly, but was instantly taken aback. There was something completely different about the way he was looking at her now. This whole time, since the moment he saw her from the staircase yesterday, honestly, he’d been looking down at her. He’d taken great pleasure in insulting and degrading her, treating her like she was nothing — because it was obvious that in his eyes, she was nothing. Just another stuck up pretty face that would never give him the time of day until she realized who his father was. But now …

His face was completely flushed, eyes hazy with desperation and something that she could almost recognize as adoration. Looking at her like she was his first meal in weeks. Like an oasis in the desert. Like a lover . She was no longer a vessel for his fucked up revenge porn fantasy, but a precious plaything he could make completely his own — perfection.

She couldn’t hold back her gasp when he dove into her, lips latching to the crux of her neck, hand cupping her pussy. He pushed his middle and ring finger back into her, slow this time, and only going to the middle knuckle before petting back out.

“You wanted slow, right?” he husked against her throat, “Is this good? Tell me what you want.”

It was like a switch had flipped in him. She wouldn’t go so far as to say that he’d changed personalities. This neediness felt like another side of the same spoiled, virgin coin — but his desperation to abuse had clearly turned into desperation to please. And while she didn’t think it extended to the point of her being able to tell him to stop—his state of reverence seemed to be solely based on the foundation of taking her virginity after all—she decided that she was going to make the most out of it.

“M-My clit.” she breathed, face turning redder with every word, “P-Please rub it.”

He groaned against her neck at those words, slipping his fingers in further so that the meat of his palm pressed flush against her. She bit back a whine as he rubbed in circles, stroking her insides slow and intoxicating, working her open for him. It was a little annoying how good he was at this.

He peppered kisses across her neck, “Oh yeah. That’s it, right? Right ?”

“I-I don’t— Shigaraki—”

“Tomura.” he said, “Call me Tomura.”

She really didn’t want to. She tried instead to spur him on with pleasured yet noncommittal gasps instead as the coil in her pelvis wrung tighter and tighter. But that wasn’t enough for him.

Shigaraki pulled away and stared at her, locking his hand firmly in place in a position that was just short of enough. She tried to rut against it, to get herself over the edge, but he shot his other hand forward to hold her hips down.

“Say it.” he growled, “Beg for your Tomura.”

Your Tomura — God he was infuriating. But more infuriating was the fact that she didn’t have the resolve to disobey him. 

“... Tomura .” she breathed, “P-Please Tomura.”

“W-What do you think you’re doing?!”

Shigaraki blinked, genuinely confused as he stood between her legs, cockhead kissing her entrance. “You’re asking that now ?”

“Put on a condom.” she rearticulated.

He snorted, “You really think I have a condom?”

She glared, “Didn’t you know that you were gonna do this though? Why didn’t you buy one yesterday?!”

He smirked, “Why didn’t you ?”

“Misplaced faith in humanity.” she deadpanned.

“Well then that’s your fault.” he chuckled, nudging his cock against her folds yet again.

“H-Hey! I said—”

Shigaraki silenced her suddenly, pressing a kiss against her lips that was far more gentle than she ever thought possible from him. She wasn’t surprised by the sweetness of his taste given all the energy drink cans that littered the room. But she was surprised by the way she didn’t outwardly hate the rough texture of his lips massaging her own.

“Don’t worry about it.” he grinned, “You’re all mine after this. I’ll take care of it all.”

Logically, she should’ve asked him to clarify. Did “take care of it all” mean he’d pay for the Plan B or raise a kid? But at the moment, she was too concerned with wondering why her heart fluttered a little when he said that to push for details.

Shigaraki took full advantage of her obvious confusion, sinking fully into her cunt.

“Aah!” She cried out, nails digging tugging deep into the meat of his shoulders, grounding herself as he stretched her to oblivion.

“H-Holy shit.” he gasped, not even believing himself how good this felt, “Like, holy shit . If I hadn’t just come…”

He rocked his hips back, relishing in the way she clung to him, before sinking back in, slow and intentional. 

“I-Is that good?” he huffed, “Do you like that?”

She looked up, confused — a feeling that was only intensified by the obvious insecurity on his face.

“W-What?”

“Is it good like this?” he repeated, “O-Or do you want it…?”

He sped up experimentally, stretching her uncomfortably.

“N-No!” she yelped, “Slow, please! Slow…”

And to her utter shock, he listened, “Y-Yeah. Slow…”

He reached down to grab her leg, pushing it up onto the bed so that he could squeeze at the pudge of her thigh, using it as a handle to rock himself in and out of her. 

She was about ready to scold him, positive that he was going to pull some gross porn move and press it up against her tits so he could just pound away at her. But the strain on his face told a different story.

Oxytocin was a powerful thing, she told herself. That’s why her heart was fluttering, seeing the good in his every tangentially considerate gesture, and not picturing her actual boyfriend’s face on his spindly little body. 

It was the fucking oxytocin that caused her to grind her hips to meet his.

Shigaraki groaned, staying deep, but speeding up almost instantly. He dropped down to his elbows, thighs pushing her legs open even wider so he could bottom out.

The gentleman act was very quickly back out the window. He was singing a whole new swan song now, desperate to chase his own high. 

“S-So good, so fucking good! My little slut feels so fucking good!”

Her body pulled tighter at those words. God, she wanted to smack herself. Shigaraki’s words, his pillaging — why the fuck was that all doing it for her? Her entire body ached, from the guilt or from her muscles tightening closer and closer to climax — she wasn’t sure. But in this moment, she knew she needed it to end. Needed her mind to go blank.

Needed release.

Her legs locked suddenly around his waist, drawing him in to hump and grind even closer, enveloping him even deeper.

“Oh fuck—” Shigaraki gasped.

His arms coiled tight around her body, wrapping in angles that seemed only possible for a boa constrictor. It was hard to find a single stretch of body where skin wasn’t slapping skin. 

“You’re getting so tight .” he hissed through gritted teeth, “You’re gonna come aren’t you?”

“Ngh—”

Words spilled out of his mouth so fast and desperate, splats of drool fell out with them, “Tell me! Come on, I want my little slut to come, I want to see you come so bad. Let me hear it! Let me have it—”

She couldn’t hold back her own moans if she tried, not with his pelvis rutting against her swollen clit, once, twice, three—

Her fingers scraped fast up the back of his Shigaraki’s neck to twist tight in his hair. She buried her head deep into his shoulder, muffling her cry in his pectoral  as he pumped her through her orgasm. Everything was suddenly impossibly tight around him, and it had him seeing stars right behind her.

She probably wouldn’t have noticed his release, her mind and body still floating lightly in the clouds of her own. But he suddenly gripped her face tight in his hands, pulling her away from the ambiguous-enough refuge of his chest and straight into a bruising kiss.

It yanked her out of the sweet blankness of pleasure where she didn’t have to think about virginity or betrayal or blackmail. Shot her right back down to Earth with the secondhand taste of too-sweet energy drink on her tongue, of hot heavy guilt in her stomach, and of Shigaraki coming hard inside her cunt.

She winced slightly as she pulled her panties back into place. Everything down there was so tender and wet and swollen — not helped in the slightest by the way Shigaraki had squeezed and spread her lips in every which way as he watched his cum spill out onto the sheets with disturbing glee just three minutes earlier.

“Dump your boyfriend.”

She snorted loudly as she looked around the room for her bra.

“I’m not joking.” Shigaraki growled, “I want you to dump him.”

She turned back to shoot him a glare. Shigaraki lounged across his bed, slightly propped up on a twisted mess of bed sheets and flat pillows in the corner. Were he a little older and a little cooler, he’d probably be smoking a cigarette right now, and look very natural doing it. But as it stood, he wasn’t. And so he just scratched lightly at his neck.

“And I wanted to just play Animal Crossing yesterday.” she said, “Now we can both be disappointed.”

He instantly bristled, fingers speeding up against his skin, “Is that really how you want to talk to me, considering…?”

Shigaraki trailed off purposely, allowing her the dread of filling in the blanks. And of course she filled them in. That threat was getting really old, really fast.

She turned away from him, not wanting to let him see her deflate any further. “Can I go now? Are you done with me?”

She could practically feel him smirk behind her.

“Not even close.”

Chapter Text

It was quiet here. Peaceful. She knew that there were things going on around her — the coach blowing her whistle, the boys practicing their flip turns on the other side of the pool, the girls around her doing their blowouts too. But they all felt far away down here.

Everywhere else in the world, she felt like she was drowning. And yet when she sank to the bottom of the pool her mind was blank, content. Submerged seemed to be the only place where she could truly breathe.

There’d only been one other time and place she felt like this.

“Come on, I want my little slut to come, I want to see you come so bad.”

Her feet hit the bottom of the pool, hit the earth. That’s right. She couldn’t stay down here. She had to go back to the world, to the noise.

She buckled her knees and pushed herself back up towards the surface.

Shithead

— Yesterday • 11:09 AM —

[hey]

[come ovr]

[i kno i hav the rite #]

[u need to come ovr]

[When?]

[2day]

[aftr school]

[not happening]

[Missed Call]

[Missed Call]

[I have cram school, asshole]

[b4]

[Swim]

[fuckn figure it out]

[its been a week]

[u need 2 come ovr]

— 3:31PM —

[snd pix]

[wen ur out of swim]

[take them in the lockr room]

— 3:54PM —

[did u see this]

[snd pix]

[its the least you can do 4 making

me wait so long]

[im not fuckn kidding]

— 4:29 PM —

[Missed Call]

[Missed Call]

[Missed Call]

— 5:11 PM —

[u hav 2 fuckn min 2 respond 

i s2g]

[Calm the fuck down]

[I just got out of practice]

[im omw]

[fuck]

Shithead is typing…

She groaned, watching those irritating little dots blip across her phone screen as she left the locker room. It had been a week of this. She didn’t know what he was expecting from her in all of this — the asshole seemed to honestly think that she didn’t deserve a life to live outside of his bedroom. 

More so though, she wasn’t sure what she’d been expecting. That she’d be able to just get through the experience and never look back? Pretend like it never happened and never see Shigaraki again? There were more than a few reasons why that couldn’t happen…

But even if she knew that she was probably in this for the long haul, she supposed that she’d at least expect him to, what, treat her a little better? The way he’d looked at her, the way he’d been so desperate to make her cum, to make her his — shouldn’t he have been trying to win her over rather than bossing her around? 

She was expecting a simp, but what she got was an entitled asshole — and it was making things very difficult.

“Hey are you okay?”

She looked up from her phone, as Nejire jogged up to walk with her.

“Yeah. Why wouldn’t I be?”

“Oh, I guess you just seemed a little out of it.” Nejire answered, “Your times today weren’t exactly…”

Irritation bubbled up in her chest, although she didn’t let it show. Her first instinct was to tell her ditzy friend off, to remind her that even on an off day her times were still only second to Nejire’s. But she wasn’t one to follow that instinct. She knew that people didn’t like that instinct.

So she tilted her head cutely instead.

Nejire gasped, “S-Sorry I didn’t mean it like that! Just that it seems like there’s a lot on your mind, and you know you can always talk to me right?!”

“Of course, I really appreciate that.” she smiled, “It’s really nothing though. I guess I’m just a little stressed with entrance exams coming up.”

Nejire nodded in enthusiastic agreement, more than happy to follow the lead to more bubbly conversation, “Oh, totally — I get that! And you’re applying to Todai, too! Crazy…”

Bzzt!

She slipped her phone discreetly into her pocket — quick to not risk anybody seeing the absolute vitriol she was sure Shigaraki was sending to her phone. “Haha, yeah, it might be a little ambitious…”

A strong arm suddenly slung across her shoulders, pulling her tight into an embrace that she’d usually find comforting — if not a little bit annoying. But this time, that warmth and happiness made her stomach drop.

Mirio.

“Not even!” he grinned, pressing a huge kiss to her cheek, “My girl’s the smartest person I know!”

“Th-Thanks…” she laughed uncomfortably.

Mirio pouted playfully, “Whaaat, you don’t believe me?”

He kicked his foot up suddenly, pointing to it, “But you’re a shoo-in !”

“Th-That was painful Mirio…” Tamaki said from beside them.

God, she honestly couldn’t agree with Tamaki more. For an entirely different reason of course. Mirio Togata was sunshine incarnate, literally the nicest person she (or probably anybody else) had ever met. Not to mention he was hot as hell and her family loved him. Even on a good day, she didn’t deserve to be dating him. And now…

Bzzt! Bzzt!

“Awwww, come on!” Mirio laughed.

“Hey! Hey! So guys—!” Nejire suddenly piped in, “What do you think about taking the Freshmen out this weekend? We can go in our relay teams!”

The relay groups had been organized a little differently for their upcoming meet. Since this meet was a pretty low stakes one, all of the new freshmen were required to enter to get some times on the board — including relay times. All of the freshmen had been paired up with at least one upperclassman on the team. She and Nejire had been assigned themselves to a couple of girls named Uraraka and Asui — two surefire ringers for the team, just like she and Nejire had been.

“W-We… As in us?” Tamaki gulped.

Nejire nodded excitedly, “Yeah! We’ve got at least one senior in each group, right? We could plan the whole day! Lunch, movie — then we could all get together for karaoke or something!”

“B-But I’m the only senior in mine. And m-my group is…”

Gosh, she almost pitied him. Tamaki’s group was indeed a bit intense, even by normal standards. Kirishima and TetsuTetsu were really loud and intense, and Shoto Todoroki was… well he was also intense, but in the opposite way. An unnervingly quiet way. It was a challenging enough group to make a confident senior second guess their every decision. And this was Tamaki they were looking at.

Bzzt! Bzzt! Bzzt!

“If you’re super worried, why don’t you and Mirio do a joint outing?” Nejire turned to Mirio, “Wouldn’t that be fun?”

“It sounds like a lot of fun! But do you think we could push it a week?” Mirio said, rubbing the back of his head awkwardly and pulling his girlfriend close, “We were actually gonna go on a date this weekend.

A bolt of panic shot through her body. Fuck, they did have a date this weekend. She could not handle being alone with him right now. She needed time to figure out how to present herself, how to keep her shit together. She needed to do something about that and fast.

“Th-That’s okay!” she announced with painfully faked enthusiasm and confidence, “Let’s go out next weekend, Mirio! Team bonding is really important before a meet — especially for freshmen, right? And the sooner we get to know them, the sooner they’ll be comfortable with us. It’s the right thing to do as upperclassmen!”

Her heart dropped as she watched him. For a moment Mirio looked like he might be disappointed. But his expression quickly brightened.

Mirio smiled down at her, adoration and pride swirling in his eyes. “Yeah, you’re right, babe! You’re so thoughtful!”

“S-Stooop.” she laughed awkwardly, trying desperately to mask the tremble in her voice.

Her gaze dropped to her shoes. God she couldn’t stand to look at him when he looked at her like that. Here he was thinking that she was being a sweet, considerate upperclassman. But really, she just couldn’t stand to be alone with him with the amount of guilt she was harboring. The idea of trying to keep it to herself when it was just the two of them almost made her physically sick.

Bzzt! Bzzt! Bzzt! Bzzt! Bzzt! Bzzt! Bzzt! Bzzt! Bzzt! Bzzt! 

Her friends all looked at her curiously.

“Woah, who’s blowing up your phone, babe?” Mirio asked.

She was quick to peel herself out from under his arm, “That’s probably my brother. I’ve gotta pick him up from baseball today.”

“Oh, I’ll walk you—!”

But she was already jogging ahead to the entrance, “Don’t worry about it, I’ve gotta go! See you tomorrow!”

“O-Okay…” Mirio answered, a bit confused, before calling out, “Love you!”

She waved back at him one last time before rushing through the gate, deliberately not saying a word.

Like always.

Shigaraki glared down at his cell phone, the droning of his professor’s lecture nothing more than a fly’s hum in his mind. It was something on fourier transforms — he’d figure it out later. The more pressing problem was definitely the radio silence only occasionally broken with snarky remarks that was his text history with her.

It was really starting to piss him off.

He thought he’d made it very clear that she was his slut now. And yet her response to his first summoning had been short only of “Fuck you and your mother” — it was crazy. She should be at his fucking beck and call. Even without him holding her Dad’s job over her head, he’d taken her virginity. Weren’t girls supposed to like, fall madly in love with the guy that deflowered them? Yeah she was a stubborn bitch, but he thought that it was going to be more in a tsundere way. Where the fuck was the doki doki? This hadn’t been what he was expecting at all.

Slut

[Are you fucking kidding me?]

[All of that]

[And you’re not even here!]

[I’m going home]

— New Message —

[dont u dare]

[ill b there soon]

[just wait]

[🖕]

“Wow. She does not like you.”

Shigaraki whipped around, ready to obliterate whatever asshole had the nerve to be looking at his phone. His anger was exponentially heightened when he saw exactly who he thought it’d be. 

He knew from the high society circles he was toted around in that the bastard sitting behind him was the oldest son of the Todorokis, Touya. But the cool guy in all his fucking coolness had introduced himself to their orientation group as Dabi . Probably as an act of rebellion, if the full body tattoos and piercings that littered his body were anything to go by. That and a bottle of cheap black hair dye had pretty much erased any resemblance to the famously wealthy family to anyone who didn’t know better. 

He put on the airs of someone who hadn’t a single fuck to give and lived life just to fuck with people. But “Dabi'' was still a student at Todai, and still showed up to most of his classes, so that couldn’t be entirely true.

Dabi was a prick.

“Mind your own business.” Shigaraki rasped.

“Kinda hard to do with you huffin’ and puffin right in front of me.” he smirked, “You’re annoying as hell. Either shut up or get out.”

Shigaraki glared at him before collecting his things to leave. He needed to get the fuck out of here. Dabi sucked, this class sucked, everything on this fucking planet sucked. The one thing that didn’t suck completely was waiting for him at his place and even she was being a total bitch right now. He needed to get rid of it all.

“Go fuck yourself, Patchwork.”

Dabi leaned back in his seat as Shigaraki walked out of the lecture hall. That certainly was one of the options. He rolled his eyes. He was almost surprised that Shigaraki hadn’t thrown out an: “I’m leaving because I want to, not because you told me so.”

“That guy makes me wanna vomit.”

“Is that seriously the best you’ve got?”

“F-Fuck—!”

Shigaraki was currently kicking her ass royally at Smash. 

She didn’t particularly excel at the game on a normal day. Usually spamming B was all it took to humble her non-gamer friends whenever they ended up at her house. And considering she really only played this in group settings, she hadn’t really bothered to learn much else. Shigaraki was predictably on a whole different level.

And that was without his cock inside her.

“You suck at this.” he huffed between thrusts.

They were currently in his floor rocker in front of the TV. His arms wrapped around her waist so that he could both lean past her body to see the TV and bounce her up and down on his cock. It was somehow both humiliating and relieving that he could pay so little attention to her while doing this.

“You try doing this—nngh— while being p-penetrated!” 

He snorted as he ended the round with a final smash, “You’re kidding right? This is a way bigger distraction for me.”

“Boo-fucking-hoo.”

His eyes narrowed — satisfaction from winning erased almost immediately by her attitude. God, seriously — why was she being such a bitch?

Almost simultaneously, he restarted the round and laid back in his seat — the tilt throwing her off balance into his chest with a squeak.

“H-Hey!”

“Yeah, you know I am tired.” he smirked, “Move yourself.”

She suddenly found herself wondering how many times she’d need to beat him with the pro controller in her hands to kill him.

Instead of fulfilling her murder fantasy however, she moved to set down the controller so that she could brace his thighs and give herself enough leverage to actually lift and drop herself. The faster she got this done, the faster she could leave, after all.

“I didn’t tell you to stop playing.” he growled.

She threw her arms up exasperated, “Seriously? Game or fuck — why can’t you just pick one?!”

“We could’ve if you came over the first time I told you to. But now you’ve got me pent up so we need to multitask.”

“What do you want me to do—?!”

He suddenly planted a hand between her shoulder blades and pushed her forward so that her elbows hit the carpet.

“I want you to shut up and do what you're told.” he hissed, “Now move.”

She huffed, looking back where they were joined to try and figure out how to do this.

She didn’t exactly have the hip flexibility to lift her hips up and down effectively in this crouching reverse cowgirl position, so she opted instead to just grind her hips back and forth. And instantly for her morality, she knew this was a mistake.

It felt way too fucking good.

Her clit rubbed against the cold, tacky leather of the rocker in an almost addicting way. Bouncing the full length of his cock before hadn’t done a lot for her other than stretch and exhaust her. But now, with his cock buried deep, massaging that perfect, spongy spot deep inside her in tandem with the external stimulation — fuck, she was feeling it and feeling it fast. 

And considering how suddenly Shigaraki’s breathing picked up behind her, she was pretty sure that he was feeling it too.

“Sh-Shit, this position’s actually pretty good…”

Her head dropped down to the carpet, the controller long fallen from her hands as she humped herself back against his hips.

“And you like it too don’t you? Don’t you?!”

She bit back a moan so hard she thought for a second she might choke. No, no she wouldn’t let him know how good it felt, she wouldn’t admit to herself how good it felt. If she did that, it’d be admitting that she was a terrible person, a cheating whore. And it’d be admitting that while the reason she came back here was because she feared for her father’s job, the reason that she’d thought about Shigaraki all week was because of a completely different, twisted reason. She couldn’t go there. She wouldn’t .

Shigaraki suddenly grabbed the meat of her ass in both hands and pulled her back hard and deep — forcing that cry right out of her throat.

“A-Agh!”

“Come on, let me hear it.” he grunted, “I wanna hear how much my little slut likes this.”

“Ngh!”

He thrust his hips up to meet hers.

“Come on …”

His hands rocked her hips back and forth, thumbs inching further towards each other with every move.

“No, I—”

The coil inside her tightened with every “plap!”, close and closer until—

“Come on!”

He raised and brought his hand down hard on her ass, forcing himself against that spot the final time he needed to slap that coil broken.

“F-Fuck!” she gasped out, the coil ricocheting throughout her entire body.

Shigaraki’s fingers dug into her ass so tight, she was sure they would leave crescent marks that would require her to wear a tech suit to practice tomorrow as he frantically chased his own orgasm.

“Oh yeah, you like it! My little slut fucking loves iiiit—!”

He held tight against her for what felt entirely too long for someone that supposedly didn’t want to get her pregnant. He kept his hand on the small of her back to hold her on his dick as he leaned back to catch his breath. It was almost like he wanted to pump her full and hold it there. And it was fucking gross.

Of course, not as gross as what she had a feeling he was going to do after.

He looked back up to her with a smirk and slipped his thumbs into the crux of her thighs. He lifted her slowly off his dick until he slipped out with a “pop!” — pulling a huge glob of semen out with it.

“Holy shit look at that.” he giggled.

He held her right there in something akin to a Jack-O pose as he watched the cum drip out of her and onto his own thighs.

“I really filled my slut up, didn’t I?”

“Oh yeah, baby, I’m so full, mmmmmm.” she deadpanned, “You got the Plan B, right?”

His glee quickly dropped into a scowl, “You’re ruining the moment.”

“Oh, I’m sorry, did you want to get me pregnant?” she scoffed.

She had sufficiently spoiled his fun at this point. So he shoved her sideways to the floor.

“Hey!”

“It’s on the desk.” he muttered, grabbing a t-shirt from the pile of dirty clothes next to him to clean himself off.

She glared at him as she rose, rubbing the side of her hip that had hit the ground particularly hard.

“Are we done with this now? Have you had your fill?”

“I already told you, you’re my slut now.” he said, tossing his shirt roughly at her, “Get used to it.”

She slapped the used shirt to the ground, wanting to maintain the shred of separation from Shigaraki that came with using one of his kleenex to clean herself off instead of his clothes.

“Then you need to wear a condom.”

“Don’t wanna.”

He grabbed his pro controller off the ground and flopped back onto his bed — practically pouting as he restarted the round. Now it was her time to scowl. What a fucking brat.

“You need to figure something out then.” she explained, pulling her underwear back on, “I’m not gonna be able to get on the pill without my parents finding out.”

“Fuck fine! Our family doctor will give you an IUD or something next time you’re over. Happy?”

She rolled her eyes, “Ecstatic .” 

She picked up her school bag and made her way towards the door. 

Shigaraki whipped back to her as she opened the door, confused, “Where the fuck are you going?”

“Please don’t tell me you’re not done.” she groaned.

He was indeed done with the activity she was thinking of. But he pointed to the TV expectantly.

“We just started another round.”

Was he serious? Like was he actually serious? Was he honestly expecting her to stay and play video games with him like they’re a couple of good friends? What, was he going to invite her to stay for dinner too? The childish illusions of this asshole were completely unreal.

“Seriously Shigaraki, let’s not do this.” she rubbed the bridge of her nose,  “I’m not your friend. I don’t like you and I’m not gonna sit here and pretend to. I have better stuff to do.”

“You’re my slut and I’m telling you to stay and game with me. What could be more fucking important than that?”

“I told you already. I have cram school after swim.” She said, “I missed the first session of the night, but I should still be able to make it to the second.”

“You’ve already gone every day this week. Skip it.”

“No .” she reiterated, pushing the door open.

His eyes narrowed.

“...I wonder how your Dad’s gonna pay for all that Cram School without a job.”

She stopped, white hot fury and annoyance pumping through her body. This was getting fucking ridiculous. 

“What do you want from me?!” she snapped at him, “Are you expecting me to just drop everything in my life for this ? I need to get into college, unless you plan on just locking me up here forever! Is that what you want?!”

…That certainly would make things easier for Shigaraki. But then again, so would having her go to the same school as him. And there was a lot less chance of being arrested by playing that route. And yet the current problem remained.

“...I can teach you better than any cram school,” he muttered.

Honestly, she could’ve laughed at his immaturity if this whole situation wasn’t so fucking pathetic. 

“Well good for you.” she spat, “Why don’t you do us both a favor then: Find a girl that wants to get into Todai and use that big ol’ brain of yours to make her your little study-fuck buddy, instead?

And then she left, slamming the door behind her. 

Fox on his tv shadow-boxed in the same spot for a good ten minutes, completely forgotten as Shigaraki ruminated over this for a while. 

Honestly… That wasn’t a half bad idea.

Chapter Text

Dinner with the Shigarakis. Was there any fate worse? These days, maybe dinner alone with Mirio. God, imagining dinner with the Shigarakis and Mirio would be pure Hell on earth.

Okay so maybe there were worse fates. But she was still extremely unhappy with the situation as she looked over her outfit in the full-length mirror — a blush blouson dress that just flirted with above the knee. It was conservative — high-necked, but figure-flattering without hugging. The most revealing thing about it honestly was that it was sleeveless. It was her go-to for any nice business dinner or party that her Dad wanted to show the family off at. This daughter is poised, professional, pure — that’s what the dress said.

And she knew Shigaraki was gonna hate it.

She took at least a little pleasure in that. And she was positive that would be the only thing she’d enjoy about tonight. Business dinners and company events with her Dad were affairs she dreaded even before Tomura Shigaraki had entered her life in any meaningful way, particularly events involving the man’s father. Listening to his speeches of grandeur, the long, aimless stories about how he became the man he was today and how the vision for his company came from his favorite comic book — it was enough to make her want to jab an oyster fork into her eye. 

Usually she’d get through the events by mentally mapping out the layout of a house she wanted to build on The Sims once she got home or sneakily thumb-warring with her little brother under the table. But she had a feeling that the junior Shigaraki was going to take great pleasure in not letting her get away with distracting herself like that. It was becoming quickly apparent how much he loved to see people (namely her) squirm.

She wondered momentarily if she could get her Dad to make her stay home. She could slut it up and grab the super little black dress she’d worn for the School Festival Beauty contest last year, cop an attitude and make him fear the idea of her acting up so much that he’d make her stay rather than risk embarrassment in front of his boss who seemed to already have them on thin ice.

Or maybe she could even tell him the truth.

She sighed and brushed down the bottom of her skirt. No, no she couldn’t do that. Even if he did believe her, what would it even accomplish? Would he tell her to suck it up because he needs this job? 

No. No, he was a good Dad, so more than likely he’d confront All for One and quit his job, regardless of the financial implications it had for their family. He might even try to go to the cops and sue. But it’s not like they would win anything. The Shigarakis undoubtedly had some of the best legal and publicity teams available in Japan. There was absolutely no way being honest could end in anything but suffering for her family.

That was just the way the world was.

"Moooom I hate this.” she could hear her brother whine as she left her room and walked down the hall, “Can’t I just do the clip on?”

A quick and efficient tug into a bow tie was his answer. “No sweetie, not at a restaurant like this.” 

“But it’s too tight .”

She chuckled at her little brother and leaned against the living room entryway, “Come on, give it a shot, kiddo. You actually look good for once!”

Her brother was quick to stick his tongue out at her, but their mother was even quicker to swat it back into his mouth. She patted and preened the seven year old’s little suit as if a single wrinkle or piece of lint meant life or death for them.

And honestly, knowing the Shigarakis, it kind of did.

“Peanut…?”

She turned to see her Father, approaching cautiously from the hallway. They hadn’t really talked since he had forced her to go and apologize to Tomura Shigaraki. She could tell part of it was him being uncomfortable at first, he’d genuinely never had to yell at her before or even discipline her for anything past drawing on the walls. But he’d also wanted to give her space. 

He was a good father, he never pushed her to speak, and usually never had to. She was always quick to tell him when she was having trouble in school or needed money. From his point of view, that meant she told him everything. But she hadn’t said so much as a word since coming home from Shigaraki’s that day. And he had no idea how to handle that. 

Truth be told, she didn’t either.

It’s not that she was mad at him or anything — how could she possibly be? There was no way he could know all that had happened that day. But she also just didn’t know what to say. She didn’t know how to look . 

“You… You look nice.”

She smiled, small but genuine. God he was trying so hard. “Thank you.”

He still looked concerned. Fuck, she had to do something to make him feel like there wasn’t something wrong.

She decided to ask for advice, “You don’t… Think it’s too short?”

It was a stupid question. She’d worn this dress to many a company and family party. They even picked it out at the store together. 

“No, definitely not.” he insisted, “It’s more than appropriate!”

She nodded politely, “That’s good. I really… Like it.”

She didn’t actually. Despite how much of it was in her closet, pink wasn’t really her color. But her Dad liked the idea of a happy, healthy daughter that liked to wear pink, so that was good enough.

He seemed to get a little more confidence from this, “I heard that you went to the Shigarakis’ house yesterday.”

She was starting to get nauseous, “Yeah. I uh… I played Smash with Tomura…”

“So you’re getting along then? With Tomura?”

Her eyes were starting to burn. The way he was looking at her — kind and hopeful, wanting nothing more than to make sure that they were okay. She knew he’d believe her if she told him. It was three words. Any three words. Tomura hurt me. Tomura touched me. Tomura raped me. 

Tell him. Tell him! TELL HIM!

“Yeah!” she smiled big, too big, “I think we’re gonna be great friends!”

Fucking coward.

Relief visibly washed over her Father’s body, “Oh I’m so glad to hear that. Honestly… I’ve been feeling really guilty about how that all played out. You’re the most important thing to me, Peanut. I’d never want to make you do anything or spend time with anyone that would make you legitimately uncomfortable — regardless of my job.”

“N-No, honestly, you were right! I was being really mean and judgemental. Tomura is a really great guy!” she laid it on thick, “I’m really sorry for putting you in that position.”

Her father smiled and patted her head comfortingly, careful not to mess up her hair, “No harm done. I’m glad you two hit it off in the end!”

“Yeah, m-me too…” 

God she was going to be sick.

“Come on you two.” her Mom called from the front door, “Get your shoes on, we’re gonna be late!”

He smiled and patted her daughter’s back, leading her to the door, “Yes, you’re right dear.”

“You guys go ahead, I’ll be right down.” she said, twisted out from her Dad’s arm, “I just forgot something.”

“Make it quick, Peanut.” he said, making his way to the door.

She nodded and took slow steps back down the hallway, waiting for her family to leave and close the front door behind them.

Then she ran to the bathroom and puked.

Dinner was at a Michelin star French restaurant — because of course it was. It was the kind of place where you checked your coat and with architecture that looked more like a church than a Tokyo skyrise. Where the Maitre D’ greeted them in French. Nobody in her family spoke French. But All for One was more than eager to take the lead and ask fluently for their reservation, putting a little lift on Shigarakí .

Because he was a douchebag.

And his son wasn’t any better. Tomura Shigaraki had either not gotten the memo or just not given a shit about the dress code of this place since he’d only traded in his joggers for black jeans and a hoodie that had seen substantially better days. His antisocial demeanor wasn’t helped by the absolutely choleric expression on his face. Whether it was because of the poshness of the restaurant they were in, or the friendly company he was having to keep, she wasn’t sure. But she did notice that strangely enough, the more she smiled and cooed with her family and All for One, the more sour his disposition became.

Again, she found herself wondering why someone who obviously cared so much about appearances would let his son walk around in public like that. But judging by the absolute monster Shigaraki had turned into, she was thinking that maybe he didn’t have the most conventional (or successful) parenting style.

“President.” her Father bowed as they met at the host station, “Thank you so much for inviting us.”

All for One spread his arms wide in that messiah pose he loved so much, grinning even wider, “Of course! I take a lot of pride in developing promising talent from within. And it was clear from our game the other week that you have a bright future at our company.” 

He turned to the rest of them, “And it’s so wonderful to see your beautiful family again.” 

Her mother returned the smile — perfectly polite and fake, just as her daughter had learned it. “Yes, it’s certainly been a while hasn’t it? I believe you just got a new boat at the time. How is it?”

“Ohh, sold that one, actually. It ran well enough, but just didn’t have the right look.” he shot her a playful but good-natured wink, “I need a boat that’s at least half as beautiful as you.” 

She waved him off with a well-honed delicate laugh, “Oh, you’re too kind.”

All for One turned to the daughter then, “Hello, dear. How are the studies going?”

“Oh!” she smiled, turning on a charm that was even brighter than her mother’s, “Just fine. Nothing I can’t handle!”

He nodded, already moving onto the topic he actually cared about, “And I trust that Tomura has been hospitable?”

“Of course! We’ve been having a great time!” she turned a saccharine smile over to Shigaraki, “Isn’t that right?”

Shigaraki, however, just looked at her like she grew an extra head, “Gross…”

Her eyes narrowed. Luckily nobody seemed to notice the exchange. All for One, having heard all that he needed to from her, was already leaning down to her younger brother.

“And I don’t think I’ve met this little one.” he reached a hand to him, “How are you, son?”

The kid instantly flinched, as if sensing a menace behind All for One’s smile that was either undetected or ignored by the adults. 

He quickly buried himself in his mother’s side, to her slight embarrassment, “Haha, he’s a bit shy…”

Her daughter however couldn’t keep her attention on the cordialities happening next to her. She was too focused on the look Shigaraki was giving her. Annoyance and disgust that she hadn’t seen since the day she first walked into his room.

She tried to send signals of “What the actual fuck?” to him telepathically, and was just as confused to receive a similar “What the actual fuck?” expression right back. 

“Well, perhaps some good food and a little dessert will turn that around.” All for Once gestured for them to adjourn into the dining room, “Shall we?”

“Y-Yes!” she squeaked back, perhaps too eagerly as she pushed her parents along, “It smells amazing in there.”

“Ah, Mademoiselle! ” the Maitre D’ called out to her, “Puis-je prendre votre manteau?”

She paused, staring at the man with seemingly enough confusion to convince him to speak Japanese. But by the expectant way he looked right back at her, it was obvious he had no intentions to do so.

All for One paused in the entryway, obviously amused by her incomprehension.

“Tomura, remember your manners.” All for One, ever the opportunist, reminded him, “Take the young lady’s coat for her.”

Shigaraki startled slightly at the nudge, seemingly caught off guard by an actual expectation to treat her properly. She couldn’t fight the amusement pulling at the corners of her lips.

“Yeah, Tomura.” she teased as the adults became out of view, “Take my coat.”

Suddenly, it was like a switch flipped in him, her sardonic tone bringing a smirk to his face. 

She cocked a brow and lifted her arms to give Shigaraki the access to declothe her. She should’ve known better honestly. She could practically hear the grin spread wider as his hands ran across her shoulder pads—

—and then suddenly dropped to hook under her arms and grab her breasts.

She gasped as he pulled her in tight to his chest, burying his nose into her hair.

“Gladly .”

“Knock it off.” she grunted.

“I’ll consider it.” he inhaled deeply, causing a disgusted shiver to shoot up her spine, “If you call me Tomura again.”

“Up yours, Tomura.”

Frustratingly, that little bite seemed to actually satisfy him even more. He pulled his hands back to actually grip her jacket, fingertips dragging and feeling the whole way.

“Better.” he mumbled, “That’s a lot better.”

She wasn’t really sure what exactly he was talking about and to be honest she didn’t care. She was just happy to finally have his hands off her as he handed her coat to the attendant — irritatingly, in perfect French.

“Seriously?” he grumbled, looking her dress up and down, “That looks awful on you.”

Aaaaand she called it.

“You know, negging really adds to your charm.” she deadpanned.

“All I’m saying is that you knew who you were seeing. Couldn’t you have worn something sexier?”

“Look at where we are, you creep.” she grumbled, walking past him to follow their families, “Can’t you think with the head on your shoulders for just one night?”

He smirked, “Depends on how you treat the other one.”

She was getting whiplash from how quickly Shigaraki’s mood was changing tonight. One moment, he was entertaining himself endlessly through childish acts of flicking his peas from his plate at her and trying to play footsie under the table. And the next moment he was glaring at her so intensely she was positive she could hear it.

It usually happened whenever the adults across the table took a moment out of their wine-drinking and small talk to engage with the kids. They were brief moments, throwaways that she was used to and she knew were just there to make them feel like they were included — no matter how surface level. They didn’t want real conversation or opinions. They just wanted to hear “School’s going great” or “the foie gras is delicious!” — easy enough chit-chat that she was expertly able to speed through in less than a minute.

And yet every time she did engage them, it set Shigaraki into a mood most foul. Right now it was to the point that he was not only scratching at his neck, but angrily tapping his foot a mere inch away from her own. She almost worried he was going to step on it.

“So, dear.” All for One turned to her, “Your father tells me you’re on the swim team.”

She nodded politely, “Yes sir.”

“Is there a stroke you're partial to?”

“Oh, I don’t know, I focus a lot on relays, so I really go wherever I’m needed.” she answered.

“She’s being modest.” her Dad said, “She’s an amazing competitor in breast stroke.”

“Really ?”

“I… I guess so. If I’m not doing IM’s, I’ll usually put a breaststroke time on the board too.”

“It sounds like you’re a real team player.”

God, he had no idea. Oh she was a team player alright. Right down to the fact that her fastest stroke was only her specialty because nobody else on her elementary school swim team ever wanted to swim it on the relay. It was just like everything else — she found the thing that the majority of people liked, the position that was most agreeable, and she rode that straight to hell.

“I certainly try!” she lilted with a polite stream of laughter that she maintained until the adults decided they were done with including her in the conversation and were moving on to a different path of boring small talk.

And once again she felt the weight of Shigaraki’s glare — the dark aura of disgust and judgment — burning through her skin. She seriously couldn’t do this.

She brought the ball of her foot down suddenly on the instep of Shigaraki’s sneaker, high enough to miss his toes while just hard enough to stop his obnoxious tapping.

“Ow, what the fuck—” he grunted.

“What is your problem?!” she whispered angrily.

He looked away with a huff, “You’re annoying me.”

“That’s my line.” she spat, “I’m not doing anything.” 

“...It’s the way you’re talking.”

She looked at him, confused, “What ?”

“That ditzy voice. And that kiss-ass smile.” He explained, “That’s not the way you actually talk. It’s fucking gross.”

She froze — a strange burning dread shooting through her entire body. What the fuck was he saying? What made him think that he knew her well enough to even know what she was "really" like? She wasn't playing it up that much. Of course she put on a model daughter's face in front of her parents and her father’s boss — who wouldn’t? Why was that so wrong? Why did that warrant the absolute disgust that he was looking at her with right now?  

And why did it bother her so much?

She glared, trying to hold back the genuine anger building in her throat, “And how the fuck would you know—?”

“You acted like that at school too.” he interrupted, “Why?”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about—”

His hand suddenly gripped her thigh tight under the table. She gasped out, but quickly brought her napkin to her lips to try and fake it as a cough.

“Bullshit.” he rasped.

“Move that hand unless you want to lose it.” she hissed.

Shigaraki smiled wide suddenly, “See? That’s it.That’s you. You’re not this docile. You’re actually a stubborn bitch.”

 “Or maybe I’m just a bitch to you.” she grit as his palm slid higher up her thigh, “Because I don’t fucking like you.”

“You’re just proving my point…” he chuckled, pinkie dancing with the edge of her panties.

Anxiety prickled across her every nerve ending like needles as her eyes darted across every person at the table in a panic. They knew , the anxiety screamed. Shigaraki was being too obvious, her own body was being too obvious. It didn’t matter that logically, nobody was even looking at her — with her parents talking animatedly with All for One and her brother trying to figure out how to play table hockey with a linen napkin. Slut might as well be tattooed across her face.

Her fists clenched tight at her side, forgoing her pride, “P-Please stop…”

Shigaraki looked down on her in amusement, “Why? Why do you care so much about what these people think?”

“Because everybody does.” she snapped at him, “Everyone cares about how they’re viewed by others.”

“I don’t.”

“Yeah. It fucking shows.” she said, a venom so sharp in her voice that it was obvious she didn’t mean this in a good way.

Shigaraki’s eyes narrowed. Oh she was so done for. The tips of his fingers pushed under panties.

“So Tomura.” her Dad turned to him suddenly, “I take it that the family business is in your future?”

Shigaraki’s hand retreated almost instantly. He snapped to her father with wide eyes, obviously a bit startled to be addressed directly in the midst of his… activity.

“Y-Yeah, I guess…” he grumbled, eyes dropping to his knees, obviously anxious to look anywhere but at her father.

“Yes, Tomura has been studying to take over the company since the beginning,” All for One announced, “I take great pride in preparing him to become the next me.”

She couldn’t help but think that was a really weird way to phrase that — but slightly more interesting was the way that Shigaraki seemed to instantly tense next to her as All for One said it. She was almost amused. It was kind of gratifying to see that he too wore a mask at times after all, despite just vehemently insisting the contrary.

Her grin made this very known to Shigaraki. And it pissed him off.

“You know, she wants to get into Todai.” Shigaraki suddenly pivoted, throwing the attention to her immediately.

Prick .

“Is that so?” All for One thundered, turning to her eagerly, “What are you hoping to study?” 

“O-Oh!” she stammered, genuinely taken off guard, “Um, law…”

“Ah, well then Todai is a natural choice!” All for One said, “Any thoughts on what type you’d like to practice?” 

She nodded, “I’d like to be a Public Defender.”

All for One’s mouth pressed into a line, almost like he was disappointed by her answer. “Well, that certainly is a noble pursuit. Although not typically the most lucrative.”

“I-I guess not…” she shrank into herself.

Her Father piped in, hoping to shift away his Boss’ scrutiny, “Well, she has plenty of time to decide. She’s still so young and interests always change. After all, up until a year ago it was all about Patent Law, Patent Law, Patent Law…”

This seemed to reignite All for One’s interest, “Is that so? Whatever could’ve changed your mind?”

“W-Well I…”

“You're gonna apply for Todai Pre-Law? That’s incredible!” Mirio gushed.

She’d blushed at the praise. She and Mirio were putting away kickboards and pull buoys into the equipment room at the time. While part of the same friend group since Freshman year, they hadn’t necessarily spent a lot of alone time together. And yet they’d found themselves paired together for practice breakdown more often lately and their conversations had started to take a turn for the more meaningful and intimate.

Today’s had wandered into the territory of dreams.

“I don’t know if it’s that cool...” she laughed.

“No way, it definitely is!” he assured her passionately, “I could never hope to be that smart!”

Well she couldn’t exactly argue with him there…

“Do you know what type you want to practice?”

“Well I—”

“Wait actually, let me guess!”

She smiled, “Okay, go for it.”

“It’s gotta be criminal or family, right?!”

Her brows furrowed, “What makes you say that..?”

“You’re such a good person, always going out of your way to help others. And you’re so passionate too! I could only imagine you’d want to do the same in your job.”

It was weird. Mirio honestly couldn’t have been more wrong. But the way he was looking at her, with all that warmth and admiration…

It made her want him to be right.

She knew she was taking too long to answer. 

“...I-I guess it just feels right.”

“Hm.” All for One was obviously still unimpressed. His tone was short only of the patronization that came with saying “Well, bless your heart.”

She looked over at Shigaraki, who was sitting just a little too pretty, a little too proud of himself at the moment. He was going somewhere with this, he had to be. And she highly doubted it was only to purposefully make her look bad in front of his dad. So what was going on?

“The company has a pretty decent legal internship, doesn’t it, Sir?” Shigaraki suddenly asked.

“A spectacular internship program!” All for One couldn’t help but brag, “Of course, it’s only available for university students—”

“Oh, I’m sure we could sneak her into a few seminars and informationals early, can’t we?” Shigaraki prodded in a particular, almost secretive tone.

But All for One seemed to catch onto it quickly, like a second, unspoken language between the two, “If that’s something she'd be interested in, of course. I always strive to help the families of my employees achieve their goals.”

Shigraki turned to her with a grin, “What do you think?”

…This bitch.

Of course it sounded great. An in to a huge corporate legal team before she even graduated high school? No matter the branch she pursued, that kind of experience was — in theory — a dream come true. But in reality, it would be just another thing that Tomura Shigaraki could use to get her in his bedroom every week. 

And she refused to give him that much leverage.

“Gosh, that sounds so amazing… But I really just don’t know if I have the time.”

All for One looked at her curiously, as if he’d never had an invitation turned down before. And perhaps he never had.

“Is that so?”

“Yes, our Peanut keeps very busy. Too busy it feels, sometimes...” her father suddenly piped in, unable to hide the very real guilt from his voice towards the end there.

She looked to her Dad in a panic. What was he doing?

Shigaraki leaned forward on his elbows, hands folding mischievously in front of his face, “It’s just such a shame for you to miss out on such a great opportunity for, what? Cram school?”

“W-Well, that Todai entrance exam isn’t going to study for itself!” she laughed, overly-sweet to compensate for the voice inside her screaming at Shigaraki to:

Shut up! Shut up! SHUT THE FUCK UP!

“But I already offered to tutor you.”

Record scratch.

The table suddenly went silent, every eye staring hard at her. Even amidst the hustle and bustle of a very popular upscale restaurant, she was pretty sure that she could hear a pin drop at this table.

No he most certainly didn’t . But that was pretty fucking beside the point now. She had played right into his hands. And if she didn’t stop this conversation in its tracks now, she was going to be very screwed, very fast.

Her smile pulled even tighter with discomfort, “Oh come on, you heard my Dad. I don’t have that kind of time—”

Shigaraki suddenly reached forward and booped her nose. She had to hold herself back from biting his finger right off.

“I meant instead of cram school, silly!”

Her eyes widened. This motherfucker—

“Well now, you should feel honored, my friend!” All for One patted her father’s shoulder jovially, “Tomura had the top score in his year’s Entrance Exam. You couldn’t pray for a better tutor.”

Her father turned to Shigaraki, awestruck, “Y-You would really consider doing that, Tomura? I wouldn’t want my daughter to take away from your own studies.”

Internally, she cheered. Yes Dad! Play that authentic Japanese modesty card! We couldn’t possibly accept a handout like that—!

“No it wouldn’t distract me at all.” Shigaraki insisted, “In fact, I find that tutoring can be one of the best ways for me to refresh on the really fundamental topics in my education!”

OH THIS MOTHERFUCKER—!

Shigaraki smirked, “What do you say?”

In retrospect, she honestly couldn’t remember saying anything — everything became such a blur. But she must’ve said something, because just seconds later, everyone at the table was just ecstatic. All for One was already ordering a new bottle of champagne. Her father was making a big grand (slightly tipsy) announcement of, “Make that two bottles!” Her mother was clapping quietly but excitedly.

And Shigaraki was once again slipping his hand right back between her legs.

Chapter Text

Looking back, she realized that she’d actually known Tomura Shigaraki since middle school. That wasn’t so unbelievable honestly. Middle school was when her Dad had gotten that big promotion into the corporate sector at the company. It was when he got a huge pay bump and her Mom was able to quit her job to be a stay at home Mom. It was when she’d started attending private school.

Even so, it’s not like they ever had any kind of relationship or meaningful interaction. Shigaraki was a year above her, after all. They weren’t in the same club and they were nowhere close to running in the same social circles. He was even more standoffish back in middle school, although in more of a gloomy way rather than the creepy pervert way he’d come to be associated with in high school.

No, there was only one interaction of note that she could honestly point to having with Shigaraki before entering their mandatory “friendship”. And it was laughably forgettable.

It was her first year of high school. She’d twisted her ankle in the class relay during the Sports Festival, so Mirio and Tamaki had carried her to the Nurse’s office with Nejire and Yuyu doting close behind. Shigaraki had already been in the office at the time, where the Nurse had been bandaging a spot on his neck.

Her friends had been their usual whirlwind of energy and positivity.

“It’s just so sad!” Nejire cried, “Now you’re gonna miss the Cheerleading competition.”

“O-Oh yeah. Bummer…” she’d feigned disappointment. 

Secretly being a bit glad she wasn’t going to have to squeeze into that embarrassing little uniform and stumble through a dance routine with her two left feet.

“You guys will just have to cheer that much harder to make up for it!” Mirio had encouraged.

He was met with a loud round of cheers from the group that quickly caught the ire of the Nurse.

“Alright you all, I know you’re excited, but if you’re going to cause a ruckus, you need to take it outside.” she shooed.

“Oh! Yes of course Ma’am, sorry about that!” Mirio quickly stood and bowed apologetically.

The rest of the group followed his lead and made their way to the door.

“Get lots of rest!” Mirio grinned at her, “We’ll come check on you later.”

She smiled back, probably a bit too wide to be genuine, “See you then!” 

“Far too noisy.” the Nurse tsked as they hurried out, before looking back to her new patient in the infirmary bed, “Dear, are you okay to wait another minute while I finish this up?”

“Yes ma’am.”

She sank back against the pillows with a sigh. Even with her ankle throbbing and a thick film of dirt covering her skin from the tumble she took, she finally felt relaxed. 

She’d remembered thinking to herself, that while her new high school friends were obviously wonderful, good people and a lot of fun to be around — hanging out with them took a lot out of her.

And then she felt it. Shigaraki was staring at her. She met his gaze, and yet he didn’t look away. Just continued to bare into her soul. To dissect her.

So creepy.

“Okay, you’re good to return dear.” he finally looked away when the Nurse patted his knee.

“You can’t just send me home?” he’d spat.

“Not without a call home.”

He scowled, obviously unhappy with that response, but accepting it. 

The Nurse’s brows furrowed, “...do I need to call home?”

Shigaraki rose with a grunt, “No.”

He paused for a moment in the doorway, throwing one last look back at the girl in the bed. It was quick, but she remembered catching a glimpse of an eye roll as he then continued on his way out.

She remembered this all as her gaze got lost in the water, racking her brain for an event that was even slightly more significant. But nope. Nothing. They hadn’t even had a conversation at that moment. There was literally nothing between them before this year.

“That’s not the way you actually talk.”

…so why the fuck did he seem to know her so well? 

She doubted that he stalked her or anything. Or at least, he didn’t stalk her any more substantially then he’d stalked any other girl at school. She was a notably popular and pretty student. She was always with people, somebody would have noticed. 

Was Shigaraki really that fucking perceptive? Or maybe she was just a lot easier to read than she once thought. Somehow, it felt like it was simultaneously both and neither.

“Woah look at her go!”

She blinked, pulled from her trance by the exclamation. She looked over to a pair of boys on the bleachers next to her, chatting and staring excitedly at the water as they dried off.

“Jeez, Asui’s a real monster when it comes to breaststroke.”

She turned to follow their gazes. To Tsuyu Asui, the first year on her relay team practically flying across the water. Her movements were so fast and graceful, it almost looked as if she wasn’t even submerging.

There was something strange about watching a prodigy at work. She herself wasn’t particularly good at anything, not naturally anyway. She had good grades, good swim times, and noticeably good looks according to the Kamino High rumor mill. But all of that was only after hours upon hours of stuffing her head into books, dumbbells, and YouTube hair and makeup tutorials. And even after all that work, it’s not like she could ever be considered the best in any of these categories. Amajiki had better grades, Nejire had won the school beauty contest last year, and as for swim—

“Tsu!” Nejire squealed, waving around her timer as Asui caught her breath from the sprint, “That’s not just a school record! That’s the fastest in the Prefecture!”

“W-Wow, really?” Asui smiled up at her, rubbing the back of her head bashfully.

She was happy seeing what a talent Asui was, honestly. Regardless of all the cautious, judging looks shot over the shoulders of her teammates. She had the second best times in her year - and that's all that really mattered when it came to college recruitment. She didn't care if there were underclassmen that lapped her. It's not like she was wanting to be a professional swimmer or anything. Hell, she wasn’t even President or Vice President of the Girl’s team, she had no place to judge or get jealous. 

“Hey babe!” Mirio jogged up to her on the pool deck, “You ready to go, soon?”

Fuck. She’d mean’t to try and sneak out before Mirio had finished giving the Boys’ team their end of practice pep talk, but apparently even she’d been entranced by Asui’s speed and form. She’d been dreading this moment the entire weekend since dinner with the Shigarakis.

When she and Mirio had started dating, he’d taken up the very sweet practice of commuting with her to cram school before going to his part-time job every day. But now that she was no longer going to cram school and instead going to Tomura Shigaraki’s condo for vaguely parent-sanctioned fuck sessions, it made things a bit more complicated.

Honestly, she probably could tell Mirio that she was dropping cram school in lieu of being tutored by Shigaraki. The sunshine boy was so sweet and stupid, he probably wouldn’t think anything of it. He’d trust her and her word completely and Shigaraki’s intentions entirely. After all, he’d encouraged her to go hang out with him alone in the first place.

But she honestly didn’t think she had the strength to let him walk her all the way to Shigaraki’s place, kiss her goodbye, and wish her luck studying just for her to get groped and sucked and railed moments later. Her stomach for bold-faced lies only stretched so far. She was barely able to look him in the eye here at school.

No, she had to get out of this. She had to figure out an easier lie.

“Heyyy, so I’ve got some bad news…”

Mirio sat next to her on the bleachers, brows furrowed, “What’s up?”

“I mean it’s not bad news exactly. My Dad had me switch cram schools. I guess a spot opened up at this really high ranked one.”

“That’s great news!” he beamed, “I’m so proud of you, babe!”

“Th-Thanks…” she looked away uncomfortably, “The problem is that it’s totally out of the way.”

“That’s okay! I can still walk—”

“It’s in Yokohama.” she lied, swiftly shutting him up.

As willing as he was to go to the ends of the earth to spend time with her… Even Mirio understood that Yokohama was a good fifty minute train ride in the opposite direction of his job in Ikebukuro. She could see him struggling to work out the math in his head of how he could make this all work.

“Hmm, let me figure this out…”

She smiled, “It’s okay, really! You definitely still get the boyfriend points for even considering still walking me.”

Mirio chuckled, obviously still a tad disappointed by the news, but his amusement and optimism steadily overtook it, “Well if talk is all it takes…”

She swatted at him playfully, “Oh come on, you couldn’t give the bare minimum if you tried .”

He caught her hand gently, “Well you make it so easy…”

He started to run his thumb softly against her knuckles. Her hand looked so tiny and delicate in his. It was kind of amazing, for how big and brutish he seemed, he was so gentle on almost an instinctual level. It was a sharp contrast from the set of long, spidery fingers she was becoming more and more accustomed to. The ones that never seemed to be able to grab her tight and rough enough .

Mirio’s hands in comparison were almost comforting. Almost.

“Well at least it’s just until Entrance Exams.” he said softly, “We have the rest of our lives to walk together…”

Her stomach dropped. That comforting warmth metamorphosing into a burn, the loving embrace now suffocating. She suddenly felt all the pain of reality, that sharp reminder of her constant lies, and not just the ones about her new after school activities.

About the lies she told before.

She pulled her hand back carefully, an exact speed that was both slow enough so as not to think she was eager to get away from him, while also being the fastest she could get away without raising suspicion.

“I-I better go…” she breathed. 

He smiled, seemingly none the wiser, “Yeah of course. Study hard!”

Then leaned forward to kiss her on the cheek, his lips burning her skin like a cross meeting a vampire. 

And this felt just as wrong.

She didn’t think that Tomura Shigaraki could ever look even more punchable. But damn, was she surprised when he opened his bedroom door with a whole new level of smugness. It was easily enough to make her want to knock his teeth out.

“Shut up.” she grunted, shoving past him into his room.

It didn’t seem to dampen his mood at all. Actually, the fact that he was pissing her off so thoroughly was only bringing him more joy. 

She could hear the grin in his voice as he said, “I didn’t say anything.”

“You were going to.” she spat, as she dropped her backpack next to his desk.

He didn’t rebuttal, just watched her unpack her textbooks. She paused as she realized the lack of desk surface actually available to use. She sighed and proceeded with moving his keyboards and other technological bric-a-bac around so that she could clear space. 

Shigaraki usually didn’t even like it when people entered his room, let alone touched his stuff. But he was more than willing to let it slide this time. The sight of her spreading out her schoolwork, adjusting the angle of his desk lamp to suit her needs, making herself comfortable — it was way too good to pass up.

She was still sorting through the pages of a workbook as she heard Shigaraki sneak himself into the gaming chair behind her. She turned around and glared.

“I was gonna use that.”

He smirked, spreading his legs “enticingly”. 

“No one’s stopping you.”

She turned back to her work with a sigh. She’d read somewhere that standing desks were better for your health anyway. 

Apparently, Shigaraki either didn’t know this, or more likely didn’t care. Once he noticed that she had every intention to just lean over his desk, he rolled his chair forward until he was close enough to snake his arms around her waist. He pulled her down to sit in his lap.

Well, she supposed she should’ve expected that.

Regardless, she was determined to ignore him. Him and the throbbing erection she could feel hardening against her ass. 

She opened up her Calculus workbook and Shigaraki dragged his fingernails up and down her hips. 

“Mine.” he breathed throughout it all.

She leaned forward to get a better look at her problems for the day and he peppered kisses between her shoulder blades.

“All mine .” 

It was only when she started to make marks on paper and Shigaraki started to grind his hips up against hers, that she got legitimately mad.

“Shigaraki, stop.”

"You stop.” he grumbled into her shirt, “You’re killing the mood.”

“Good.” she snapped, “I’m trying to study.”

Shigaraki pulled away then, looking at her genuinely perplexed, “Are you stupid or something? You don’t need to study as long as you pay attention in class.”

This stung a little more than it should have. That’s right, Shigaraki was another fucking prodigy.

She pressed her pencil down,  “Maybe you don’t.”

His hands paused along her thighs as she glared back at him.

“You won, alright? You got your fucking way. Again. But I still have Entrance Exams coming up and I need this time.” she continued, “You may not give a shit about my life outside this room, but I do.” 

She knew that she probably should’ve been more careful, that she was in absolutely no place to be telling him off so definitively. But she felt like she had to put her foot down on at least this. It wasn’t just what little respect she had left in jeopardy, it was her future. If she didn’t draw it now, she knew that there’d never be a line.

Shigaraki didn’t say anything for a long time. What’s worse, was that his expression was indecipherable. Not offended, not amused, nothing. Maybe there was some surprise? But mostly he gave off the impression that once again, he was staring directly into her, peeling back every layer of subtext to an undoubtedly (and infuriatingly) accurate conclusion.

Whatever that conclusion was though, for some reason he decided to keep it to himself, rather than partake in his new favorite pastime of making her squirm. Instead he huffed and suddenly shifted her so that she was seated on his left thigh rather than his pelvis. He leaned forward, planting his elbow on the desk next to her so he could actually get a good view of her workbook.

“Alright, what don’t you get?”

She blinked, “Wait, really?”

“You just said you actually wanted to get work done.” he growled.

“Well, yeah but…”

Shigaraki’s irritation started to shift back into mischief, and he ran his fingers across her hip, “Of course if you don’t actually want to—”

“I can’t solve these integral equations.”

He pouted a little, muttering under his breath about how little fun she was, before turning back to examine her workbook.

“Have you tried these ones before, or is this the first time you’re seeing them?” he asked, rubbing absentmindedly at his neck.

“I tried working on them last night, but got stuck about halfway.” she said.

“You got that with you?”

She nodded and he gestured for her to hand it to him.

She shuffled through the sheets of scratch paper stuffed into the back of her workbook until she found the right one. She pulled it out and handed it to him.

Shigaraki looked thoughtfully across the paper and suddenly she felt herself growing unexpectedly embarrassed. So far she’d been able to convince herself that they were pretty equal in the intelligence department. Their repartee was pretty tit-for-tat, and he hadn’t legitimately called her a dumb bitch since their first coupling.

But the way he was looking so thoughtfully at her work right now, along with the realization that he hadn’t gotten into Todai on family connections and world-class tutors alone, but in fact, was a real deal academic wunderkind…

…she started to worry that he might actually think she’s stupid. She kicked herself for even caring in the first place, but the fear was there all the same.

If Shigaraki did think she was stupid though, he didn’t show it. 

He simply set the page back onto the table, grabbed a pen, and started to scribble out an equation format at the top of her page. “That’s because it’s not solvable the way you’re doing it. You need to use Trigonometric Substitution.”

“No, no I  get that — but what about it makes it unsolvable any other way when there’s no square root?”

“Oh. Yeah, that can be tricky,” Shigaraki scratched the back of his head, not anxiously but thoughtfully, before starting to flip through her accompanying textbook, “Let me find an example…”

His expression was neutral as he explained. Soft almost — with half-lidded eyes and his frown lines near vanished. It brought an unnerving amount of attention to the fact that, at its core, the natural structure of his face wasn’t actually too bad to look at. In fact, if she didn’t know any better, she might even call him handsome. Yes, there were the obvious deterrents that kept him from the conventional description — the dry skin, the permanent scowl, the greasy hair, the personality…

…But then there was that beauty mark under his lip. The one that, despite how much she usually wanted to punch him in the mouth, she was actually just noticing for the first time. There were also his eyelashes, which were surprisingly long and dark for a boy like him. And then there was his neck that — under the layers of scabs and scar tissue — was strong yet slender with an Adam’s apple that was quite pronounced at this angle. There was a lithe masculinity to it that she couldn’t help but follow down the clavicle and pectoral his stretched out v neck exposed. Wait, was that actual muscle definition?

A thought suddenly occurred to her. She’d never seen Tomura Shigaraki naked.

Yes, she was becoming unfortunately and quickly familiar with his lower half — dick and pale thighs most specifically. But the shirt had never come off. His focus had always been to just get her clothes off and his pants down. 

Holy shit. 

This man had literally spread her pussy open to watch his cum fall out and she didn’t even know what his nipples looked like. This was beyond fucked up.

Not that she wanted to see him shirtless. Of course not. It just seemed kind of unfair. And noticing how toned he potentially was, there was a little morbid curiosity too.

“...Does that make sense?”

She blinked, looking back up to his face. He stared at her expectantly. 

Shit.

“Um… Could you repeat that?”

His eyes narrowed irritably. He reached forward and flicked her not especially gently on the forehead.

“Ow—”

“No wonder you have to study, fucking space cadet.” 

“S-Sorry…” she rubbed her arm sheepishly, “But uh, could you..?”

Shigaraki sighed and reached his free hand behind her. He grabbed her by the nape of her neck, and turned her head down to look at the paper before restarting his explanation.

“I’m not explaining it again.”

She made sure to pay attention this time as he re-explained the equation, lest she risk him asking what had her so distracted. 

About an hour later, she had come to a rather irritating conclusion: Tomura Shigaraki was actually a really good tutor. 

Not only did he have a ridiculous mastery over the subject, but he picked up really quickly on what she needed to understand about the equations in order to figure out which methods to use. And he pivoted his teaching style to address this with ease and efficiency.

Damn it. 

He’d been right. He really could teach her better than her teachers at cram school. And he seemed to revel in that fact. As a few correctly solved problems later, he was starting to get all touchy-feely again.

“Good job.” he purred against her neck as she presented him with a correctly solved equation, “If you get two more right, I’ll give you a reward.”

“Is it silence?”

He smirked against her skin, sliding her back up his thigh slow, dragging almost, “It could be. I can think of a few ways to keep my mouth occupied…”

Now that actually was kind of tempting. The silence part. Not the other—

Her grip tightened on her pencil, steeling herself as Shigaraki circled his fingers around her clothed clit.

She didn’t like this. She didn’t like how flustered he was making her. She didn’t like how aware she was of the surprising warmth and firmness pressed under her thighs. She didn’t like that her mind had started to wander into the details of his body. She didn’t like the feel of that all too familiar wetness collecting in her panties.

But what she really didn’t like was how normal this was already starting to feel. The sex, the banter, the smell. She was starting to know this place, to know him . No longer was she worried about her Dad’s job just for running her mouth. She knew that it wasn’t enough for Shigaraki to go running to All for One. Hell, saying no earlier didn’t even have him storming off in a flurry.

And he in turn was starting to know her too.

“H-Hey!” she gasped out as she felt Shigaraki push her panties to the side. “I still have a problem left.”

“I know.” he smirked, running his middle and ring fingers tender against her opening, “This is my reward. For being such a great tutor.”

He took his time, fingers stroking and spreading her pussy in every which way, seemingly determined to coat her center and his own pants in as much arousal as possible. Occasionally he’d dip the digits in for a few slow, shallow thrusts, but he kept everything soft and playful. Pleasurable enough to get her sweating, but light and “innocent” enough to not warrant smacking him away.

“You’re liking this, aren’t you?” he grinned.

“I-It’s just a physiological reaction.” she grunted, “Sitting on a washing machine could achieve the same or better results.”

“Huh, really?” he pondered this for a moment, “We should try fucking on a washing machine sometime.”

“Are you telling me you actually know where your washing machine is?”

With his free hand, gave her a quick but firm slap on the thigh for the attitude, earning a yelp that was not entirely out of pain. 

(He also, pointedly did not answer the question).

She turned to focus back on her workbook. Or at least she tried to, as his hand slid up her hip. In theory, she supposed that this counted as practicing test-taking in a high stakes environment. Of course, if something like this happened during an Entrance Exam, she was pretty positive that somebody would be arrested.

She labored to keep her breath steady and even, determined to not let him know how much his ministrations were getting to her. But the breathy giggle in her ear made it all too clear that her body was deceiving her in some way.

“You’re such a little liar.” he breathed, “So fucking wet for me…”

He was being surprisingly patient at this moment, one hand kneading her pussy, the other pushing up under her shirt. Before, he was always in such a hurry to get to a destination. This was different. There was something experimental and new about this. They’d had sex about three times now (five if you counted oral and handjobs), and while she had orgasmed two of those times, that’d mainly been a side effect of Shigaraki playing with her body rather than the main goal. 

It was becoming clear that she wasn’t the only one studying right now. Shigaraki was trying to decipher just what made her tick. And he was a fast learner.

“S-Stop.” she gasped.

“Stop what?”

She dropped her head back into his shoulder, panting into his ear, “J-Just fuck me already.”

She could hear a sharp inhale above her — genuine surprise that quickly turned to glee. He shoved the front of his pants down just as far as needed for his cock to spring out and slap against her pussy. They clung to his hip bones and backside awkwardly, but he was way too excited to actually care about getting them all the way off. He was focussed instead on pulling her legs wider and higher over his own thighs.

“That desperate, huh?” he grinned, lining himself up with her entrance.

Yes, in a way she was. She was desperate to stop his exploration, his deeper understanding of her body and soul. And she knew that “begging” him to fuck her would be too much for him to resist. It was demeaning, yes, but it was better than him being able to figure out more ways to make her vulnerable. And she took some slight pride in the fact that she’d discovered at least a few ways to manipulate him right back.

Unfortunately, that pride was short-lived as Shigaraki took what he just learned and applied it further — sliding his fingers back over her mound to play with her clit as he pushed his cock in.

“F-Fuck! ” she cried out, hands instinctively latching to his bicep.

The stretch made it feel so much better. Which made her feel so much worse.

“Haha, oh shit you do like that, don’t you?” he huffed, “I can feel it.”

He started to roll his hips against her, slow but deep, “You’re getting even tighter .”

Shigaraki kneaded her against every push of his cock, practically shaping her to him. She shot her hands forward and grabbed the edge of the desk, desperate to ground herself and hold onto a semblance of self control. But she couldn’t even attempt to fight the gasps his hands and hips were smacking out of her. Between that perfect angle he was hitting her at, the intoxicating roll of her clit between his fingers, and the heat of his breath on her ear, she was already starting to see stars.

And apparently she wasn’t the only one. Shigaraki’s hips started to stutter, his arms coiling tighter around her, his head burying deeper into the nape of her neck.

“F-Fuck, I’m gonna—”

She suddenly felt her hips bounce higher than before, only to slap flush against Shigaraki’s abdomen. The full length of his cock yanked clean out of her so fast, she didn’t even realize what was happening until she felt and saw the ropes of cum shooting across her stomach and forearms.

And across her homework.

She didn’t process it at first. Mind still too foggy and fucked out to think about anything other than catching her breath. It wasn’t until Shigaraki giggled and plapped his fingers against her tummy, spreading his release across her skin like finger paint that she came to.

“So pretty…”

A strange amalgamation of a shriek and a gasp lurched from her throat when she finally saw it. She moved instantaneously for the near-empty box of tissues on Shigaraki’s desk.

“Are you insane?! This textbook is a rental!”

“What?” he smirked between huffs, “You were the one that was so worried about birth control.” 

She cringed as her blotting just seemed to make the stains worse, “There’s no way I can turn this in…”

Shigaraki snorted as he slipped out from under her, “Guess you’ll just have to re-do it then.”

She glared, watching him hit the power on his TV, flop onto his bed, and grab a PS5 controller that was tangled up in his unmade sheets — all without bothering to pull his pants back up. She instantly felt stupid for thinking that maybe this man was in anyway self conscious about his body.

“Where do you think you’re going?” he asked as she rose fully, pushing the chair out of her way.

“Where do you think? You just carpet bombed me with semen.” she spat, “I need a shower.”

“That sounds like a reward. And you never finished the three problems I gave you.” he didn’t even look at her as he booted up his game.

She crumpled up her page and chucked it at him angrily. It missed his stupid face. 

“You ruined my page before I even had the chance!”

“That’s your fault for getting distracted,” he tossed a smirk to her obnoxiously, “You need to concentrate, Space Cadet.”

She groaned, turning back to the desk in annoyed dejection. She could already feel the crust forming across her abdomen.

“Why are you actually such a prick?”

Shigaraki smirked, “Why don’t you ask me that again after you get your test scores back?”

Chapter Text

She had a pinch in her neck. 

It had been there for a while now, she wasn’t sure what had caused it. Maybe it was the weird position she’d woken up in a couple of days ago. Maybe it was from the particularly grueling dryland workouts she’d been doing in preparation for the upcoming meet. Or maybe it was something else. Something more gnawing and notional. The manifestation of guilt and stress, pulled through the endless weavings of lies and delusions like:

“This works, right?” 

Bingo.

She smiled sadly, “I don’t know, it feels a little forced…”

She was currently sitting at a bench in a strip of greenery that barely qualified as a park within the hustle and bustle of Roppongi. But as far as Mirio on the other end of her cellphone was concerned, she had just gotten off the train in Yokohama and was walking the last fifteen minutes to “cram school”. 

It was a dangerous (and honestly kind of stupid) game she was playing. She and Mirio had always walked to the Azabu-Juban Subway Station together to get to their respective after school activities — that leg of walking together hadn't changed. Only now, rather than getting on the Namboku Line Northbound with him, she had to get on the Southbound — because he, in all of his chivalry, insisted on making sure she got on her train, even if his direction arrived first. She then proceeded to ride it one stop, and then immediately take the reverse train straight back. 

And to add insult to injury, he’d excitedly told her this morning how their respective train rides were almost exactly the same length of time, so they could talk on the phone for the rest of their walk. 

“Isn’t that great?!” he’d asked, with an eagerness to please that would’ve made her feel like she’d kicked a puppy if she said no.

So she’d done her little exercise in futility, took her train to nowhere and back, then walked to the edge of the porte-cochère of Shigaraki’s skyrise — a journey which only killed fifteen minutes altogether. 

She didn’t enter the building, opting to wander the bustling, affluent streets of Roppongi until she could find a place to sit and wait for Mirio’s call so that she could lie to her wonderful boyfriend further in their little simulated commute together.

God, she really was a piece of shit.

“Forced how? We can just talk about what we usually talk about!” Mirio insisted, ever the ray of positivity.

“But we usually didn’t even talk that much.” she said, attempting to rub the kink out of her neck, “We were on the train looking out the window for most of it.”

“We can still do that!”

She cocked a brow, “You want me to just have you on the phone and not say anything for twenty minutes?”

“No, no, no, we can talk about what we see!”

She froze. Shit. What did she see? Shigaraki’s skyrise stood obnoxiously a few blocks down, a blinding testament to how much this lie would inevitably fuck her. There was no way she could describe that. And yet she couldn’t help but question if everything around her was definitively Tokyo — if that was even a thing. She could see a crepe shop, a Cartier store, a luxury hotel — they had all of those in Yokohama too, right?!

“O-Okay,” she stammered, “You start.”

Luckily, he seemed totally unphased.

“Well, I seeee… a cake shop. And some pigeons. And—” he gasped, “Oh my god, is that an elephant?!?!”

She cocked a brow, the verity in his voice making her forget her panic for a moment, “Oh shut up, there is not.”

“Cross my heart, babe — it’s right in front of me! And woah, I think it stubbed its toe! Someone better call a tow truck!”

“...”

“...”

She couldn’t hold back a loud snort of laughter. And she could practically hear Mirio grin proudly on the other end.

“Was that a good one?”

“You can hear me rolling my eyes right?”

There were moments, like these, where she was able to fool herself into thinking her life was normal. Moments where she genuinely enjoyed talking with her boyfriend and forgot about the reason why they weren’t walking together. Forgot about where exactly she was walking to and about the complicated feelings surrounding all of it. A moment where she was able to fool herself into thinking she was as happy and perky as she pretended to be. 

A moment where her neck didn’t hurt.

…But these moments were always brief.

“And what do you see?”

Her smile weakened. She needed to wrap this up fast.

“I see… My cram school.”

Well, at least that wasn’t a total lie.

Mirio’s disappointment was palpable, “Oh man, already?”

“Yeah, I’m sorry… It’s really close to the station.” 

He let out a sad, breathy laugh, “...This isn’t really worth the trouble of trying to coordinate, is it?”

“Afraid not.” she agreed, “Especially since I have a transfer in Ota City. It probably won’t line up perfectly like this every day.”

“I know you’re right…”

She could hear the “but” hanging off the end of that sentence, the hope in his voice that wanted to try regardless. But even Mirio was able to accept when something was completely hopeless.

“We’re still on for next Sunday though, right?” she offered.

“Wouldn’t miss it for the world.” he said, trying to remain positive, although obviously less enthusiastic than before.

Mirio stared down at his phone sadly. No, no it wasn’t worth the trouble, he knew that. Especially since he had lied about the length of their commutes lining up so perfectly. He in fact had arrived at his station in 25 minutes flat and had then just proceeded to wait outside the office to his part-time job for another 20 minutes until his girlfriend would’ve theoretically arrived in Yokohama and he could call. 

It was absolutely an exercise in futility, and yet, as he stared down at that “Call Ended” screen, he so desperately wanted to will that phone call back to life, to will their telecommute to work. 

To will their relationship to work. 

He wasn’t sure why or how, but something felt off. Something had been slipping away for a while now.

“Togata?”

Mirio blinked, a familiar voice snapping him out of his trance. He turned to see one of the office’s full-time assistants, Kaoruko Awata, standing with a stack of papers in hand. She looked at him with slight concern, indicating to him that he’d probably been staring down at his phone for a lot longer than he realized.

“Is everything okay?” she asked.

Mirio was quick to throw on a sunny grin, “Oh yeah! Don't worry about me, I guess I just zoned out there!”

She cocked a brow at him, “Girlfriend troubles?”

His smile softened, although it didn't disappear. Just fell down somewhere closer to earth.

“No, I wouldn’t go that far. Just… a weird feeling.”

Kaoruko gestured for Mirio to open the door for her, which he promptly did, “You think she’s hiding something?”

“Isn’t everyone?” he joked, although quickly reeled it in at Kaoruko’s pointed look, “I don’t know. There’s a lot she doesn’t tell me. But it’s not like I tell her how I feel all the time either. If it’s important, I just gotta trust that she’ll come to me.”

“That’s really mature of you, Togata.” she smirked suddenly, “But you know, if you’re ever really worried, we can always look into her.”

Mirio chuckled, “Yeah I know.” 

The door swung shut behind them. A door with the words “Nighteye Private Investigation Agency” printed on the frosted glass.

She looked critically at herself in her phone’s selfie camera. Fuck, it was totally obvious she’d been crying. Her eyes were just a little too puffy and nose just a little too red. And even worse, the back of her neck was throbbing now.

The guilt had been just too much for her today. She was sure she had been quite the sight, ugly sobbing into her school bag in the middle of Roppongi, but it was better than the alternative. Better than crying in front of Tomura Shigaraki.

She shoved her phone into her bag with a sigh. It wasn’t too bad. If she could sneak into the downstairs bathroom and wet her hair a bit, she could probably pass it off as being irritation from swim practice. 

That was the game plan, she decided as she punched the pin into the front  door’s smart lock. Shigaraki didn’t usually hang out in the living room anyway, hence why he’d given her the door code last week — so she didn’t have to wait for him or Kurogiri to let her in. She could probably get away with this.

She made quiet work of slipping off her shoes and was already bee-lining from the genkan when she walked straight into someone. A portly, mustached man she didn’t recognize.

Well, her plan wasn’t totally shot yet. She hadn’t run into Shigaraki. Not that she felt entirely relieved either.

“Um, hello…?”

His expression was cryptic, airing towards harsh at first — as if sizing up her audacity to be so confused by his presence in the residence.

But it very quickly shifted to a grandfatherly smile.

“You must be Tomura’s girlfriend.”

“No!” she said a bit too quickly, she realized, “I-I mean, not exactly I—”

He waved away her babbling with amused understanding, “Ah, no need to explain dear. You kids like to keep it casual these days, right?”

“S-Sure…” she figured that was about as close to an accurate explanation she was going to be able to give to this complete stranger, “I’m sorry, I’m still not sure—”

“Dr. Daruma Ujiko.” he said, offering his hand.

“Oh! You’re the family doctor.” she quickly introduced herself, returning the shake, “It’s nice to meet you.”

“Likewise. ” 

A chill ran up her spine, the hairs across her body shooting erect as he lingered and continued to hold her hand just a bit too tight, to shake just a bit too long.

She whipped her hand back faster than was probably polite, “S-So where is Shigaraki?”

Ujiko’s smile shifted somewhat, although she couldn’t put her finger on exactly how. Between that bushy mustache and those coke bottle goggles, he had the type of face that could easily hide what he was actually thinking, so she wasn’t sure if it had become a frown, smirk or otherwise. But it was unnerving beyond all hell. Something was not quite right about this guy.

“I presume you mean Tomura.”

Shit, he was right. They were both named Shigaraki. 

“Y-Yeah… Tomura.” she corrected hesitantly, the first name still tasting bitter on her tongue.

“Up in his cave still, I’d imagine. Though he could be out, I didn’t check,” he smiled, “Kurogiri is out with the Boss this afternoon, so I let myself in.”

Oh. So she was alone with this creepy guy and nobody even knew that they were here. Great. That was just great.

She pointed to the staircase, backing away slowly, “Sh-Should I go get—?”

“No need to bother him. Go have a seat on the couch while I get some things set up.” he said in a way that was not unkind, but also certainly not optional.

Regardless, she was more than happy to put some space between them.

She sat down on the leather sectional, with all the awkwardness and discomfort of being in a new doctor’s office, which she supposed wasn’t totally inaccurate.

“So, what’s your experience with birth control?” he called out from behind her.

She blushed immediately. Yes, she knew that this was the whole purpose of Ujiko’s visit, but it was still embarrassing for a recent-virgin like her to talk about prophylactics with a complete stranger.

“N-None.” she rubbed the ever-tightening muscle in her neck, “I haven’t ever…”

Ujiko interrupted, saving her from her trailing in a moment of surprising professionalism, “And you’re sure that you want to start with a Long Acting Reversible Contraception? It can actually be a good idea to start with an oral birth control to see how your body handles the hormonal shift.”

“No, I think the IUD is best.” 

She wanted zero margin for error or discovery here.

“Understood.” he said, “Do you take any medications?”

“Um, no…” she started to turn back towards him, “Should I fill something out or…?”

“Oh no, I think it’d be best for everyone if this was off the record.”

She snapped forward, desperate to keep him from seeing the absolute terror stamped across her face. He wasn't wrong, but this doctor’s appointment was still starting to feel a little too murder-y for her liking. 

She looked up to the staircase anxiously. Maybe she should text Shigaraki to come down. She started to reach for her phone.

“So I understand your father works for the company.” 

She jumped as Ujiko suddenly dropped a leather medical bag onto the coffee table in front of her. He didn’t look at her, simply opened the bag and started pulling out various plastic-wrapped instruments.

She willed herself to calm down. He was just making small talk, this was all fine. No matter how pointy some of those tools looked, it was all FINE.

“Y-Yeah. He works in Finance.”

“He’s loyal. Been there about ten years now, right?”

…

Why the actual fuck would the Shigarakis’ family doctor know that?

“Do you uh, know him or something?” she asked, kneading the back of her neck anxiously.

“Not directly. But you hear things when you’re in this little circle.” he finally looked at her, “You may hear things.”

Hear things? Hear things like what? It was just a telecommunications company, what could she possibly overhear that would be so damning? A new Android feature?

She smiled uncomfortably, not really wanting to think further into it, “O-Oh I don’t know about that. I just see Shig— I mean, Tomura when I’m here. And I don’t think he really knows much—”

“Oh you’d be surprised. The Boss has a lot of faith in Tomura. Thinks he’s an ideal successor to the company.” 

There it was again. Successor. It had the same sort of weirdness as "the next me". Why did they phrase it that way? There was a strange edge to Ujiko's voice, too. Almost like:

“...and you don’t?”

The question came out before she could stop it. And she regretted it just as fast.

He paused his set-up.

“Personally, I’m skeptical.” Ujiko said, “Tomura is very young for his age.”

He looked at her pointedly, “Very susceptible to temptation.”

…

Was this guy fucking serious? 

She was the one being extorted for sex, and Ujiko thought that Shigaraki was the vulnerable one? She couldn’t have been understanding that right.

“What are you trying to say?”

A jolly smile returned to Ujiko’s face, but it was too late to save face now. There was a clear threat behind his every action and gesture, and she was pretty sure he was aware of it.

So she was understanding him right.

“I just think you should know that inside this circle is an amazing place to be.” he rose to his feet, “While being an enemy of it…”

He stalked towards her. On instinct she tried to back away, to slip off the couch and run, but his legs were already flush to her knees. She was positive that physically she could overtake him, but there was a malice in his aura that froze her in place.

“...has its consequences.”

He reached forward suddenly, clutching the edges of her face — her temples, jaw bones, and chin — with the tips of his fingers. 

“My, such healthy skin. Pliable, no signs of xerosis, despite being a swimmer. And such a lovely color…”

His pointers drew down the natural edges of her face, slowly. Deliberately.

Her hackles shot sky high. The way he was touching her didn’t read as sexual, but it certainly wasn’t innocent. It was surgical — like she was livestock waiting to be butchered. And he was mapping out where exactly he was going to cut. It was an all new variety of freaky.

“It would be such a shame if something were to happen to it.” his voice lowered almost to a growl, “I do have a few other off the record patients that would kill for skin like this.”

Her blood ran cold. Holy shit this guy definitely harvests organs!

“What the fuck?”

She whipped around, panicked. She'd never been so happy to hear that raspy tenor in her life. Shigaraki stood at the top of the stairs, looking both shocked and perturbed by the scene he just walked in on in his living room. 

“The fuck are you doing to her?”

Ujiko released her face and finally she could breathe again.

“Just a physical exam, Tomura. Nothing to concern yourself with.”

He started to storm down the steps, “Bullshit—”

“Tomura .” Ujiko said, warningly, “Do you really think Shigaraki-sama would want you getting so worked up over something like this?”

He waved a hand flippantly at her on “this” in a way that seemed to signal just how unimportant she was. Like she was the wrapper of an eaten last popsicle, a broken, free Happy Meal toy. Absolutely nothing.

Shigaraki’s eyes narrowed, obviously not satisfied. But he didn’t push further, having been forced into some implicit checkmate. 

“Just watch the hands.” he muttered, continuing down at a much more polite pace.

“Of course,” Ujiko turned back to his bag, as nonchalant and cordial as can be.

Under normal circumstances, she'd be taking great interest in the fact that Shigaraki was actually holding back his thoughts, doing anything other than exactly what he wanted to do or say. Wondering into the dynamic that had him actually obeying and pacifying another person. But she couldn't think about that right now. Couldn't think anything other than holy shit, holy shit, holy shit, as her heart threatened to beat straight out of her chest.

“I trust that school is going well.” Ujiko said.

“Yeah, I guess.” Shigaraki answered as he stepped in front of the couch.

“And how is the scratching these days?”

Shigaraki’s fingers paused against his collarbone, like he was caught with his hand in a cookie jar, “...fine.”

“Just fine?” Ujiko pressed, almost taunting.

“I don’t know, I’m not really—” he stopped as he felt a sudden stretch of his sleeve hold him in place.

He looked down and was shocked to see her hand clutching his shirt tight. For a moment, he was overjoyed. He couldn't believe it, she’d never reached out for him like this before. But then he got a better look at her face.

There was a faint redness on her cheeks and a stress of her eyes that was disturbingly familiar. Her face had looked like that a good hour after he had first had his way with her, the strain from the tears his cock had forced out of her. She had been crying. And despite the way that she stared down hard at her own feet, trying to keep her breath steady and her expression neutral, the panic pumping through her veins was clear. 

Something was seriously wrong here.

“We’ll need a flat surface for the exam and insertion.” Ujiko explained, “We can use one of the guest rooms for privacy.”

Her grip on Shigaraki noticeably tightened, to the point that her manicured little fists started to shake. She looked up to him, eyes wide and pleading— screaming :

Please don’t leave me alone with him again. 

Shigaraki was speaking before he even realized, his eyes not leaving her face for a second. 

“Just do it here,” he breathed, “It’s nothing I haven’t seen before.”

Ujiko looked pointedly at Shigaraki, “Are you sure? We’ll be talking about some pretty personal topics that—”

“What do you think I am, five?” he finally looked away from her, snapping at Ujiko, “Talk about periods and cramps and shit— I don’t give a fuck.”

A deeper frustration returned to Ujiko’s eyes. Something that indicated that those perhaps were not the type of questions he was referring to. That perhaps they were more interrogational in manner. 

But again, the look was gone as soon as it came.

“Very well.” he sighed, pulling out a wrapped, plastic speculum, “Please remove your underwear and lay back on the couch.”

…What the fuck was that? 

No seriously, what the actual fuck was that?

Daruma Ujiko — Shigaraki almost laughed at the thought. That was the name he’d given her. An alias he used to keep his under-the-table work, well, under the table. In truth he was a member of the Board of Directors for a very reputable private hospital — Kyudai Garaki. No public association with the Shigarakis or their company.

Tomura Shigaraki had always hated the guy.

Not particularly more than he hated everyone else in the world, but the hate had been there all the same. The Doctor had never interacted with him any more than he needed to, and certainly didn’t show him nearly the same level of bullshit flattery as the rest of the employees. But he’d been a close family friend, regardless. Someone he knew he could trust.

So just why the fuck did he have his fat little fingers all over her?

Shigaraki smashed the buttons on his controller sharper than usual, unable to keep the frustration from the snap of his fingers at the thought. He was trying to focus on mowing down Hollows. And yet he’d messed up the timing of his attack in a way that resulted in a perfect miss.

It wasn’t just the fact that Ujiko had been touching and scaring her that pissed Shigaraki off so much. It was his own reaction to it too. 

He was angry that he was so angry.

Because why should he be? He knew that Ujiko had only the interests of the Shigarakis in mind, there was no way he had any ulterior motive that he needed to worry about. And even if he did, Shigaraki shouldn’t have even cared . She was just a sex toy to him, who cared if someone else wanted to play with her? 

And yet, his anger had been extreme enough that Ujiko had noticed, had even felt the need to give him a warning over. That anger was still boiling within him — popping and frothing higher and higher as he thought about anybody else touching her, toying with her, breaking her.

Tomura Shigaraki was the only one allowed to make her squirm.

A sudden wince hissed across the room. He looked back at her sitting at his desk, watching as she rubbed the nape of her neck for the umpteenth time today. He could tell by the increasing stiffness of her shoulders though that whatever she was trying to do, it wasn’t working.

The controller fell to his lap as he couldn’t keep both sets of fingernails from crawling up his skin. He could vaguely recognize the sound of his character being swarmed by the hoard, followed by the “You Died” text fading onto screen.

Frustratingly, he knew that it wasn’t all that simple.

No, it wasn’t just that he didn’t want someone else playing with his things. As much as she was pretending not to be, she was hurting. And he didn’t like it. She was a lot more fun when she wasn’t upset. The annoyance when he taunted her and resistance to his teasing, some cute little backtalk was one thing. Genuine pain and distress was another thing entirely.

For a moment, he’d wondered when that had shifted. He set out to ruin her when she first stepped into his home, first demanded his attention. He’d wanted to stain her perfect little body, mind, and soul from the inside out. To burn down her little straw house of superiority with their coition. But he’d quickly realized how much he wanted to "ruin" her in other ways. To have her coming around him, to have her spending time with him, to have her reaching out to him.

The feeling was as addictive as it was agonizing.

“Hey! ”

Shigaraki blinked, suddenly processing the fact that she had turned around and was looking at him with something akin to concern.

“You’re bleeding.”

His fingers froze against the chewed up flesh of his neck. He hadn’t even noticed that he’d been doing it. That in itself was by no means out of the ordinary. The difference in this moment was that somebody else had noticed. 

He pulled his hands away, a thin strip of skin still caught under one of his nails tearing back with it. Shit, that had been a pretty gnarly bout.

“Jesus Christ, dude. Do you need—?” she started to stand.

“No,” he waved her off, already shuffling through a pile of old take out bags next to the bed.

Disposable chopsticks, an empty can of green tea, some used napkins — all were tossed carelessly to the floor until he found what he was looking for: a handful of individually wrapped antibacterial wipes. The kind they gave you for free at a BBQ restaurant.

“Oh you can’t be serious,” she cringed as he hastily wiped the blood from his fingers, then padded his neck dry with the same quickly pinkening wipe.

“I’m fine.” he grunted, “They don’t need stitches or anything.”

She very obviously wanted to argue that that was not fine, but let it go when he pulled open his nightstand drawer and retrieved a seriously battered box of band-aids. She supposed that was the best treatment he was going to allow, considering how quick and rudely he had shoved the family doctor out the front door (not that she had been complaining).

“So what’s the deal with that, exactly?” she asked instead, lowering back down into her seat, “Is it an eczema thing? Allergies?”

“I dunno,” he muttered, carefully peeling open one of the band-aids, only to let the backing fall carelessly to the floor, “It’s an ‘it itches’ thing.”

“Revolutionary.” she deadpanned, “How long did it take Dr. Lecter down there to make that breakthrough?”

He paused. She thought for a second that it was because he’d been hit with a delayed wave of pain that had him gritting his teeth. That he was debating if he needed more help after all.

But then he asked,“...did he say something to you?”

The tone in his voice was unclear. Was he wondering if Ujiko had said something about him? Or was he just concerned about what the guy had said to her in general? She waited for him to give her any visual indication. But he refused to look at her. His eyes just remained glued to the band-aid stretched between his fingers. 

She turned back to her schoolwork with a sigh, “I don’t know, not really.”

And that seemed to be the end of the conversation, truly. For a long time the room was filled only with the sounds of peeling bandages, the Dark Souls menu music, and the ringing of that growing neck pain in her ears. 

So she jumped suddenly when she felt a calloused palm press into the nape of her neck. 

It was Shigaraki’s.

“What are you doing?” she turned back to him, slightly shaken over the fact that she hadn’t even heard him get up.

He didn’t look at her, only kneaded his spidery fingers experimentally into her muscles, “... you’re in pain.”

“You’re one to talk,” she almost laughed, heart rate steadying quickly, “Please tell me you don’t still have blood all over your hands.”

He waved his free hand in front of her face to show that he had, in fact, sufficiently wiped them down.

She sighed, slumping back into her chair and into his grasp, “Can I at least finish this page before we do it?”

Shigaraki’s brows furrowed, slightly frustrated that she was (justifiably) doubting his intentions rather than thanking him, “This… isn’t about that.”

“...what’s it about then?”

“I just told you,” he growled, “You look like you’re in pain.”

“And you want to… help with that?” she asked, skeptically.

He just grunted in response — not a yes, but also not a no. 

An uncomfortable silence fell over them. She — still way too suspicious about whether he was actually trying to make her feel better for her sake — and he — clearly not satisfied with her reaction and the answers he’d received earlier.

Regardless, she had to admit that the feel of someone else’s fingers — especially a frustratingly skilled and nimble set like Shigaraki’s — was actually kind of nice. 

And he was never the one to let himself remain unsatisfied for too long.

“…You can tell me. If he bothered you, I mean.” 

Her brows furrowed, not tracking what exactly he was talking about.

“N-Not just the Doctor either…” he coughed, seeming to choke on the difficulty of being genuine, “If um… If anything’s bothering you.”

She blinked.

Was he trying to comfort her?

She cocked a brow at him, “Oh? You want to hear about my fake little popular girl problems?”

“... if that’s what’s bothering you.” he mumbled, free hand picking at the edge of his band-aid.

He still refused to look at her and she swore that she could see his ears tinging a little pink.

Holy shit. He was being totally genuine right now.

The opportunist in her wanted to milk the absolute shit out of this. And yet another, frustratingly sympathetic part of her couldn’t bring herself to do it.

“No, I mean it. It’s nothing to worry yourself over.” she sighed, “He just obviously cares a lot about the company and you guys.”

It was obvious that Shigaraki wasn’t exactly convinced, and with good reason. She was seriously underplaying the situation. In truth, she was still very shaken up. Even now her muscles were filled with a jolty airiness that came from the adrenaline still delaying her exhaustion until she had a moment to truly process it. And the fact that he was trying to make that moment now, had a strange heaviness settling in her chest — one that scared her for a second. It made her wonder if maybe she was choking or suddenly having a spontaneous allergic reaction to the Mountain Dew mold hanging in the room. Because she couldn’t believe for a second that not only was Tomura Shigaraki trying to have a legitimate emotional conversation with her…

…but that she was tempted for even a second to have one with him.

“Seriously, I’m fine, alright?” she said, quick to shove any deeper thought as far out of the room as possible, “The guy’s vibe just freaked me out, honestly.”

Shigaraki finally looked at her, both confused and a little amused, “How do you mean?”

“Dude, he is so creepy.” she laughed, “Definitely seems like he harvests organs for the black market.”

He smirked, “Well I can’t say for sure that he doesn’t.” 

“Ha. Ha.” she deadpanned, “If I go missing, you better check his bag for my teeth.”

Shigaraki chuckled, not offering any additional retort. Like he was finally satisfied with letting it all fade to quiet as he kneaded the tight knot just above her nape. Satisfied with no strings attached, no ulterior motives. Just casual and comforting.

And very confusing.

Chapter Text

This was a problem. 

She laid sprawled out on her bed, the same place she’d been since she got home an hour ago, those four words running through her head on loop. Well, those words and: 

“…You can tell me. If he bothered you, I mean.”  

Yeah. This was a serious problem.

Lately, she’d been looking at her situation like it was a puzzle game. Her character was stuck in an impossible situation, an impregnable fortress with no windows and only one door. However, the door was locked, and the key was absolutely nowhere to be found. The game mission was to find a way out.

She couldn’t call anyone for help, there was no service in this room. She couldn’t break down the wall by force, the whole thing would collapse on her if she did. The only thing she could really do was search the room for clues, work her way through the riddles, untwist the web that would lead her to the key and then get the fuck out of dodge. And if she was being honest with herself, she’d been doing a pretty shit job of actually looking. It was like she had just been moving the game camera around and not actually clicking anything. It wasn’t even an option for her, the feature was disabled.

And after leaving Shigaraki’s place the other day, shoulders loose and a strange warmth filling her chest, she immediately realized why.

This wasn’t a puzzle game at all. It was a Dating Sim. And she wasn’t even the player.

She was just a route. 

An algorithm without the ability to learn anything about the protagonist or do anything outside of her three pre-programmed responses. And Shigaraki had been speed-running her route over and over again, memorizing her event triggers with each interaction until he could get himself to a Best Ending. After all, he’d already unlocked the eroge scenes.

In other words, she was totally fucked.

She groaned, staring up as if the cheat codes were going to magically appear in the popcorn ceiling. This sucked. The guy had already started this with a game-breaking advantage: her Dad’s job in the palm of his hands. And the stat boosts were only growing more OP by the day.

She’d thought that she’d figured out all that she needed to know about him. That there wasn’t a lot to figure out. He was a bitter, horny bastard that got off on her dependence on him, on holding power over her. He didn’t actually give a shit about her.

But there was obviously more — of course there was more, she scolded herself. He was a human being after all. 

And if she was ever going to shed her NPC status, stand on an even playing field with him, she needed to figure out what that more was. And fast.

Mirio popped into her head for a moment, the fact that her wonderfully handsome and stupid boyfriend just so happened to work for a Private Eye. But she yanked that spider’s thread right out of her mind as soon as it entered.

Right, cause that was totally a conversation she could have. 

“Hey babe, could you ask your boss to investigate the guy that’s been sexploiting me for the last month behind your back?”

Fucking foolproof.

Her phone buzzed in her hand, pulling her from her spiraling thoughts. She forgot that she was even still holding it. She moved it to her eyeline to check the message. 

Shithead

— New Message —

[wut pc mps do you have?]

Ah, speak of the devil. She texted back.

[I don’t]

[???]

[Switch and Sims is what I have 

time for. You know this.]

[steam id]

[Fuck man, idk. It’s been actual

years since I’ve used Steam]

[I don’t even think I have the email

I signed up with anymore]

[ill wait]

She groaned, this guy really was relentless in everything. 

As annoyed as she was, she did actually get up and walk over to her desktop. Thirty minutes and a long string of recovered passwords later, she had texted him her Steam ID and accepted his friend request that came in almost instantaneously.

And then he called her.

“Jesus fuck, look at this wishlist — don’t you have any games?!”

She bristled, “I already told you, I don’t think I’ve used Steam since middle school!”

“You don’t have a single game on here that didn’t come out after 2016!”

“ Middle school!” she repeated, only to raucous laughter on the other end.

“Alright, which of these have you always wanted to play?”

“Dude, you just kicked my ass at Smash for three hours yesterday,” she leaned back in her desk chair, “Aren’t you sick of humiliating me yet?”

“No,” he answered, “Which game?”

She sighed, giving a quick, cursory scroll through her ancient wishlist.

“I guess GTA V.”

He laughed, “Wait really?”

She cocked a brow, “Yeah, why?”

“Well it’s not exactly Animal Crossing.”

Now she was starting to actually get annoyed, “...You were a part of GamerGate, weren’t you?”

He snorted out a laugh on the other end, followed by some quickfire typing, “Just hold on a second.”

She dropped her head back with a sigh. Her first instinct was to just get annoyed and tune Shigaraki out, or even hang up on him altogether. But maybe that was the problem. Maybe she needed to start taking advantage of these little moments and really pay attention. He was going to make her spend the time with him anyway, so maybe she should be making the most of it and finding out what makes him tick.

Her computer pinged and she looked to see that she had a new message on Steam. She clicked on it.

You’ve received a gift!

“A-Are you kidding me?” she gaped, “Was this on sale?!”

Shigaraki promptly ignored her, “You have to do the tutorial mission before you can play online, but I’ll walk you through it. Start the download, I’ll add you to my Discord.”

“Wait, Shigaraki—!”

He hung up.

She looked down at her phone and then back to her computer screen with furrowed brows. The base game itself wasn’t cheap, and he’d just bought her a premium bundle edition. She knew that Shigaraki had cash to burn, obviously — spending this much on a game for him would be like impulse-buying a fashion magazine at the convenience store for her. But she never really thought that he’d be the type to just spend it on her so eagerly. 

Badgering her into buying it and then eventually getting fed up and buying it himself, yes. Most certainly. Buying it for her without a second thought just because he wanted to game with her? That seemed suspiciously generous.

Well, if nothing else, she could count this as a discovery, or at least as confirmation of a theory that had been forming in the back of her mind.

Tomura Shigaraki was a lot lonelier than he let on.

Another ping shook her from her thoughts. A message with a link to a server called “The League”. She rolled her eyes. Oh, and what a mighty League of two they would be.

She started the game download and clicked on the link, wondering why for the life of him Shigaraki would even make an entire server just for the two of them when they could voice call directly over Discord.

Her question was answered in an unexpected way when she actually entered the server. It wasn’t just her and Shigaraki in it. There was one other member, currently offline.

Spinner.

Well then. Apparently she’d confirmed absolutely nothing .

Her school bag had barely hit the carpet in Shigaraki’s room before he was shoving her back onto his bed. She went without a fight, even tilted her head back so that he could nip at her neck.

It wasn’t just the sexless moments she realized that she could learn from. Maybe an obvious epiphany was that there was a missed opportunity on her part to study him in these heated moments too.

She usually tried to distract herself when Shigaraki got to playing with her. Mostly because she didn’t want to risk giving him even a drop of satisfaction from making her writhe or cling to him. But mostly it was to keep her own mind occupied, to not allow herself the feelings. To drown out the cocktail of guilt and oxytocin that the pleasure rooted deep in her chest.

This was typically accomplished by making lists. Lists of books she wanted to read, lists of groceries to add to the page on the fridge when she got home, lists of lies she needed to keep track of.

Today, she decided to incorporate her new mission into that habit, and list the things she noticed about Shigaraki. The things he liked, the things he didn’t like — the things she could use against him.

“Hello is also an option,” she huffed.

“Shut up,” he grunted, straddling her hips and yanking her uniform blouse up over her chest.

Number 1. He likes to be rough.

He dragged his hands up and down the length of her body, spreading wide across every inch of skin, molding every curve.

They came to a slow at the top of her bra, thumbs running gently along the seam where lace met skin, as he rubbed and rolled her in his ample palms. His breathing heavied, eyes glazed — hot and hungry.

Number 2. He likes to squeeze. Especially the thighs and tits .

He yanked the material suddenly, just far enough so that her breasts popped out over the cups.

“God damn…” he groaned, practically drooling at the sight.

Shigaraki grabbed her breasts firmly in each hand, alternating between rolling them together and running his thumbs over her nipples. He made no attempt to actually remove the bra. The squeeze of the mesh and silk was part of the visual appeal, after all.

Number 3. He likes to mostly try the things he’s seen in porn.

He kissed his way down her body, sliding off the bed, until he could latch his mouth to one of her nipples, sucking and slurping at it with a groan that was just as sloppy. His  free hand palmed her other breast in a decidedly un stimulating way (for her at least).

Like… a lot of things from porn.  

“Oi,” he growled, glaring up where he’d settled in her sternum, “Am I boring you?”

Number 4. He doesn’t like it when you just lie there.

“That doesn’t really do it for me,” she said.

His brows furrowed, “Aren’t nipples supposed to be sensitive or something?” 

“I don’t know, are yours?!” she snapped.

Shigaraki paused to think, like he’d never really considered this before. She smirked, wondering if this would be the key to seeing what secrets hid behind the t-shirt.

It was not.

She squeaked as he grabbed her hips suddenly and pulled her down to the edge of the bed.

“Well,” he grinned, already sliding her panties down her thighs, “It’s a good thing I do know what does it for you.”

His head was buried between her legs before she could protest, breath hot against her core and fingers dancing up her sex. He pushed her lips up, lapping at her clit directly, deliciously. 

She cried out, her thighs instantly shutting against his ears. He curled his arm around her leg, clutching her thigh tight in his free hand. But not to pull her away. No, the squeeze was only spurring him on. He groaned as he dove his tongue deeper, faster.

The reactions were involuntary, she certainly didn’t have a clear enough head or strong enough motivation to intentionally move into him. She knew he was a quick study, but it was becoming increasingly clear that he was also an eager study. 

A half-formed idea managed to push through the fog of her mind as she felt herself peaking higher and higher. 

When it came to orgasms, her first instinct was always to curl in. To squeeze and to hide behind limbs and blankets — whatever it took to keep Shigaraki from seeing the way it really affected her. But this time, she decided to play it up.

“ O-Oh fuck— ” she cried out. 

Her fists grasped desperately at the comforter bunched just above her head, pulling it down to her shoulders — a safety bar to cling to. Her heels dug back, thighs flexed wide, and for the first time, she allowed the surge to arch her back up off the bed.

She certainly wasn’t faking, but she’d be lying if she said that she wasn’t putting on a little bit of a show.

And Shigaraki ate that shit up . Through her misty, mid-orgasm gaze, she could see his eyes widen as she ground her sex against his tongue.

Addendum 4.5. He loves it when you [pretend to] like it.

He pulled away, almost dazed for a moment by her reaction. But he quickly hid his surprise under some extra smugness when he noticed her looking down at him between heavy breaths. 

“I see we aren’t being a tease anymore.” he grinned, leaning in close to her.

This was a precarious situation she realized. She could maybe play up the idea that she was starting to like him and this arrangement — but that ran a huge risk of having the opposite effect on a chronically lonely and unstable guy like him. Not to mention some other risks from within herself that she really didn’t want to think about.

Plus that smirk was seriously pissing her off.

“Don’t get the wrong idea. It’s an orgasm, not a confession,” she pushed his face away not so gently, “If you’re gonna make me do this anyway, I might as well have one.”

Shigaraki’s grin widened almost instantly, a giddiness lighting up in his eyes. The attitude seemed to only excite him more.

Number 5. He likes it when you’re a little mean.

Tomura Shigaraki’s bathroom was surprisingly nice, and unsurprisingly sparse. The quartz countertops, huge walk-in rain shower, and jacuzzi tub were decorated only with a single, noticeably un-fluffy towel and a squeeze-dented bottle of three-in-one shampoo. She’d taken notice of this around her third time over, where the mental need to leave as fast as she could was finally outweighed by the physical need to scrub the sweat and cum off of her before cram school. The next day over, she’d brought a caddy full of her own products and asked Kurogiri where they keep the extra towels.

She looked in the mirror as she dried her hair, making sure to pull it all in the direction that she had trained it. She’d already pulled on the gym shorts and t-shirt she’d stuffed into her bag this morning — so as to avoid the lose-lose choice of squeezing back into her sweaty uniform or throwing on one of Shigaraki’s shirts — like she had to when he had painted her uniform white last week. 

Being the absolute brat he was, he’d given her the smallest, rattiest t-shirt he owned, one that she had to pull down over her hips every two minutes. He had even stolen her bra and underwear while she was in the shower. 

She was about to pull open the vanity drawer where she’d stashed her face moisturizer when she paused. She looked back up to the mirror, a thought popping into her head. She gave the ridge where two of the mirror panes met a little push. It shifted. 

Her eyes widened and she quickly pulled the panes open. She didn’t think this bathroom had a medicine cabinet — let alone this freaking three-doored lamborghini of one — although she admittedly hadn’t looked that hard. She never really thought to snoop in here before, given its sparseness, didn’t think she had a reason to. 

But now she did.

The findings however, left much to be desired. The cabinet was practically empty — just a few things collected on one or two shelves. A toothbrush. A mangled, capless toothpaste tube, haphazardly thrown onto the shelf. A first aid kit. An electric shaver. Nothing interesting there. 

She moved on to the small row of pill bottles on the bottom shelf.

The typical gang was all there — ibuprofen, acetaminophen, some cough syrup— the melatonin supplements struck her as slightly odd. Then there were some bottles that looked prescribed. Zolpidem and Prazosin. 

Huh. 

She made a mental note as she closed the cabinets to look those up when she got home.

With nothing else to really investigate, she finished up her post-shower routine, slung her hair towel over her shoulders to catch any stray droplets, and made her way back to Shigaraki’s room.

“Did I tell you, or did I tell you?”

She blinked, having not set one foot into the room before Shigaraki had started gloating at her from his desk, her test scores in hand.

“Jesus dude, you just came and you’re already jacking yourself off?” she sighed, closing the door behind her,

“Huh. That’s a funny way of saying thank you.” 

“I think earlier counts just fine,” she waved him off, feeling the full irony as she added, “And don’t go through my shit.”

“You’re welcome.” he crumpled the papers up suddenly, shooting them towards the trash can.

“Hey, I still need those to study—!” she started, rushing to retrieve them. 

“What’s the point of reviewing tests you already aced?” he turned back to his computer screen, “You should be working on new problems.”

Her brows furrowed in confusion, “Well yeah, but we’ve already done all the practice tests for this month.”

Shigaraki waved her over to him. She followed and leaned over his shoulder to look at his screen. A PDF of equations with a familiar heading from the Board of Education. It was dated for three weeks from now.

Her eyes widened, “Is this—?”

“One of next month's practice tests.” he smirked.

“Woah,” she leaned in closer to the screen, as if that would somehow prove that they were real, “Did you buy these or something?”

“Nah, pulled them directly,” he answered, “They’ve got the ones through January all on their server.”

She looked at him, “What, you mean like hacking?”

He folded his arms back behind his head, fully ready to revel in gratitude and awe, “Yup.”

She snorted, “Jesus, just what are they teaching Computer Science majors at Todai?”

He tsked, almost offended by the suggestion, “ Please . You think I learned how to do this in my Ethical Hacking class?”

She hated to admit it, but even she was a little impressed. She knew Shigaraki was smart, particularly when it came to computers — if all the spare panels and overclocking supplies shoved in crevices around his desk were anything to go by — but this felt like a whole different level. These couldn’t have been easy to get his hands on. He must have—

“Wait…”

Wait. Wait. Wait. 

By “their server” he didn’t mean—

“...did you hack a cram school or—”

“Board of Education,” he grinned, “Straight from the source.”

Her stomach dropped.

“Are you stupid?!” she whipped back, “You can’t just hack the Board of Education!”

He pointed to the screen simply, “Yes I can.”

“N-No, I mean you shouldn’t. This is a government entity, dude.”

Shigaraki snorted, “I know. It’s kind of ridiculous how easy they are to hack. Disney ’s servers on the other hand—”

“ They ?!” she all but screamed, “As in, this isn’t your first time hacking a government website?!”

“Awww,” he reached forward, pinching her cheek teasingly, “Is someone worried about me getting caught?”

She smacked his hand away, “No, I’m worried about me getting caught!”

Shigaraki’s smile dropped immediately. This was not the reaction he was expecting.

“Seriously, what happens if someone finds out about this?!”

“Literally nothing,” he growled, “They straight up give them out in advance to tutors and cram schools that pay enough.”

She rubbed her arm uncomfortably, “Y-Yeah but—”

“What, would you prefer if I had bought them?” he snapped.

“No, of course not. Or at least—” she sighed, “I don’t know. I guess I’d just prefer…”

She couldn’t finish the thought. Because it was a stupidly ingenuine and politically correct sentiment she was about to say. And Shigaraki obviously agreed since he went ahead and finished the thought for her.

“Prefer to what? Get by on your own merit and hardwork?” he asked, scornfully, “That’s why you don’t give yourself any advantages like tutoring or going to a private school, right?”

She cringed. Nail’s head? Meet hammer.

“Trust me, it’s rigged. This whole garbage society is fucking rigged. Every single person at that school, at your school is using one cheat code or another. A cheat code for money, a cheat code for extra study time, a cheat code for a happy, supportive family…”

She looked at him, genuinely surprised by the frustration in his brow, the icy contempt in his eyes. This was something he felt genuinely passionate about. It was something she’d never seen in him and didn’t even realize he was capable of.

“The whole world is using cheat codes,” he continued, “And the ones that don’t? The one’s that start off at base level with nothing and try to claw their way up to the top without using any? Game over.”

It was a competent metaphor, she’d give him that. And one that she couldn’t completely disagree with. But there was just something about it coming from his mouth that struck a nerve with her. He said it all with such conviction, like he had experienced this kind of hardship and disadvantage personally. And yet there he was, sitting in front of a custom built gaming system that no doubt cost more than her Dad’s mortgage payment. And here she was, only standing in front of him because he could — and would — end her father’s career if she ever even thought about leaving.

It all left a pretty bad taste in her mouth.

“I swear,” he muttered, “You’re just as spoiled as I thought you were, sometimes.”

“And you aren’t?!” she snapped, loud enough to genuinely give him pause.

He looked like he wanted to say something — like was dying to say something. But the hesitance that followed was clear on his face. So instead he huffed, fingers grazing his neck.

“If you don’t want to use the tests, you don’t have to. It’s not a big deal,” he said, “You should just be honest about why.”

Honest. Shigaraki wanted her to be honest. 

Her first instinct was to call bullshit. He didn’t want honest. He wanted a pretty little toy to be dependent on him and to tell him oooh how good his cock felt. That’s how she wanted to see him. But if she really thought about it…

“Is this good? Tell me what you want.”

“That’s not the way you actually talk. It’s fucking gross.”

“…You can tell me. If he bothered you, I mean… If anything’s bothering you.”

…that wasn’t really true. He did seem to just put it all out there, didn’t he?

Maybe she'd been thinking too much into this. Maybe he didn’t have anything to hide or some secret weakness. Maybe she didn’t need to dig nearly as deep as she thought to figure out what made him tick. 

Maybe it was all right there.

And so she answered honestly.

“From a morality standpoint, it’s not like I actually care if this is legal or not. It’s just that, if the worst case scenario happens…”

The memory of moving boxes flashed in her mind. Of eating stir-fried bean sprouts in a one room apartment for the third night in a row. Of her dad hunched over the kotatsu with a reading light, trying to figure out what to do with the mountain of unpaid bills in front of him.

Bills that she caused.

“…I just don’t want to cause any trouble for my dad, okay?”

Shigaraki stared at her for a long moment. Until he realized that she had turned to look back at him, waiting for him to respond. 

He looked away, scratching his neck awkwardly. 

“I’ll take care of it.”

She cocked her head. He could feel her confusion even without looking at her.

“If the worst case scenario happens,” he clarified, “It won’t be on you. I’ll take care of it all.”

I’ll take care of it all.

She’d heard him say that before. The first time just felt like possessive virgin babble, a flimsy excuse to not wear a condom that she hadn’t been in a position to argue against. But this time?  It felt surprisingly real.

“...honest?”

Shigaraki hazarded a look, his apprehension quickly leveling when he saw the corner of her lip twitch up.

He smirked, “Yeah, honest.”

Chapter Text

“We’re not just a corporation. We’re a family .”

That had been the theme of All for One’s latest self-aggrandizing speech, and she genuinely wondered how he got through it with a straight face. At least in this situation the topic didn’t come out of nowhere. After all, he was giving this speech over the loudspeakers of the company’s annual family picnic. 

Held at a fucking waterpark.

Picnic was a loose term. It was a seated, catered lunch in the water park’s big event hall — max capacity 500. And it certainly was close to max capacity. Nevermind the fact that it was November, apparently All for One believed that a bright, summer atmosphere was exactly what was needed to maintain morale through any quarter of the year if his “fun boss” Ralph Lauren Hawaiin shirt was anything to go off of. Besides, that’s why they built indoor water parks.

And events like these were great bullet point perks for the recruitment team, well worth the no doubt exorbitant price of renting out the entire place.

Yes, it was a mandatory fun event that her father made them attend every year without fail. But to be honest, it’s one that she didn’t mind. The luncheon itself was stuffy and pretentious with a summer semi-formal dress code that felt a little silly to maintain at a freaking waterpark. But that part only lasted an hour and since her father hadn’t quite risen to the upper echelons of the company yet, they were able to sit at the table with the rest of his department’s management team and their families, rather than the raised banquet table at the front of the hall with All for One and his VP’s. Then she was free to galavant the waterpark with her family.

And despite the strain the latest advancement opportunity in her father’s career had put on their relationship, she did actually like her family. She liked sitting in inner tubes side by side with her mother, chatting as they floated down the lazy river. She liked being dragged on waterslide after waterslide by her little brother who was determined to ride as many times as her stomach would allow, because without her, he was too short to ride most of them. She liked playing Marco Polo with her Dad who was notoriously and hilariously bad at it even when the rest of the family wasn’t cheating and getting out of the pool (which they always were).

So to be honest, she was pretty disappointed when things had turned out a little differently this year.

While her father hadn’t been invited to the head honcho table during the luncheon, he had been invited to drinks at the very exclusive and very snooty clubhouse afterwards. All of them had in fact. All for One, ever the matchmaker, had placed particular interest in wanting to introduce them to the VP’s who had children around her brother’s age. Much to her surprise though, her parents — knowing how much they enjoyed this event in its usual form — actually gave them the choice of how to spend their day. Her brother — who as of late was on a bit of an independent “I’m a big boy” streak — decided that he wanted to go and play with some kids his own age rather than his older sister. 

She however, with her last fancy-schmancy event with the Shigarakis still on her mind, decided to opt out and brave the waterpark alone.

A decision that, as she sat by herself on a lounge chair across from the wave pool, she was kind of starting to regret.

“Well what do we have here?” 

Okay, make that really starting to regret.

She didn’t recognize the dudebro that was suddenly blocking out her artificial sun. He was around her age and given his particular brand of swagger, obviously assumed that his Daddy had a higher position at the company than hers. 

His hair was even more styled and product-filled then her own and he’d obviously contoured his skinny-fat stomach into a crude six pack.

One word, two syllables: Douchebag.

“What’s a pretty thing like you doing all alone in a place like this?”

What the fuck else could she be doing? It was a family “picnic”, in theory she should’ve been near her family. It was besides the point that she wasn’t actually — the fact of the matter was that she was obviously not here to be picked up by little lost dudebros.

“I’m not alone. I’m waiting for someone actually.” she smiled politely.

“Oh, well it couldn’t possibly be anyone important.” he said, sitting down uninvited on her lounge chair just a little too close for comfort, “After all, no decent guy would keep a lovely lady such as yourself waiting.”

Holy shit, how much would it sabotage her dad’s career if she threw up on this Nice Guy™ right now? Because she was getting pretty fucking close.

Suddenly, a pale mop of hair popped into her periphery. One that — for a record-breaking second time — she was actually thankful to see.

She stood suddenly, arms raised and voice as shrill and lovey-dovey as she could push it, “Hey, babe!”

Shigaraki paused, looking over to glare at whatever dumb bitch had the right to be so loud and happy near him. So he was colored genuinely surprised to see his fuck buddy jogging up excitedly to him.

She latched onto him, pulling his bicep flush between her tits for the whole world to see, “I missed you so much!”

“What the hell—?”

“Just pretend, alright.” she hissed, nodding her head back to the douche canoe staring at them in offended astonishment.

Shigaraki smirked, suddenly understanding the situation. And determined to milk it for all it was worth.

“Oh, hey honey !” he cooed obnoxiously right back, slipping his arm around her waist.

Then he grabbed a tight handful of her ass.

She deadpanned, “Seriously?”

“He’s still watching,” his grin widened.

Damn, maybe she should’ve taken her chances with Mr. Hairspray.

“Oh my gosh, Baby!” she squealed, swatting at his arm playfully, “Not here! My Dad will see!”

She hazarded a look back to see the boy shaking his head dejectedly as he stood and walked in the other direction — clearly and obnoxiously licking his wounds and looking for the next piece of ass he could try and catch.

“Seriously, knock it off before someone sees.” she snapped back to Shigaraki,

He pulled her tighter into his side instead. 

“What, so you only want me when it’s convenient for you?” he teased, fingers playing with the hem of her swimsuit just over her hip, “That’s hardly fair.”

She shoved him away, “Hey pot, I’m kettle.”

Shigaraki decided to let her have that one, taking the opportunity to instead let his eyes roam shamelessly up and down her figure. She flushed instantly, embarrassed and irritated. She was just wearing one of her retired competition swimsuits— a definitively utilitarian and cleavage-covering one-piece — so she knew that he was making a show of his oggling just to fuck with her.

“I’m getting a smoothie.” she grunted, walking past him. 

Obnoxiously, Shigaraki took this as an invitation.

They walked to the nearest smoothie stand — a little tiki hut bar on the other side of the wave pool. She ordered something with kale, which Shigaraki did nothing to hide his judgment of. He on the other hand ordered something that sounded entirely too sweet — something with “matazz” in the name. But aside from that, they just sat in surprisingly content silence — little umbrella’d drinks in hand.

In all honesty, she had been genuinely surprised to see Shigaraki at this event in the first place. In all the years that she’d been attending, she’d never seen him — and she definitely would’ve noticed him in high school given his prominence on the rumor mill. Before, she had just assumed that the President didn’t have any family. Now, she was catching onto the fact that All for One basically just let Shigaraki do whatever he wanted. And she could imagine no universe in any shape or form where he would willingly choose to subject himself to a day of chlorinated, societal expectations.

And yet there he had been today, at the luncheon directly at All for One’s side. And here he was now, drinking a smoothie in…

She looked him up and down. He was dressed exactly the same as always — black joggers, red sneakers, sour expression. The only difference was that this particular black hoodie had short sleeves and was obviously one that he didn’t wear very often, since its neckline wasn’t overstretched. His hoodie was also pulled up in what she was starting to realize was his default whenever he was in public.

She barely stifled a giggle. It was like someone had modded him a “Summer Skin” for his character model, but was really lazy about it.

Shigaraki’s eyes narrowed, “ What? ”

“So you even wear pajamas to the pool, huh?” she smirked.

“They’re not pajamas.” he growled.

“Do you sleep in them?”

“...”

She busted out laughing, admittedly way too much than was probably good for her, given the potential consequences. But it was just too much for her. She even started to pound her palm on the table.

“Alright, alright. You made your point.” he smirked suddenly, “What, were you hoping to ogle me?”

“Well, a part of me is wondering if you have an extra nipple or something.” she admitted, wiping a tear from her eye.

He gave her a weird look, “Huh?”

“I’ve never seen you shirtless.” 

Shigaraki blinked.

“But we’ve had sex.”

“I know ,” she said, “But I’ve never seen you shirtless.”

He blinked again.

“Really?”

“Really.”

…

Shigaraki grinned, “Do you want—”

“No.”

He chuckled and took a loud slurp of his drink. 

Well that was kind of frustrating. 

By this point she’d firmly established the theory in her mind that there was a reason Shigaraki never took his shirt off — a story or insecurity that she could latch onto and exploit him right back with. But it seemed to legitimately have just been an oversight on his part, a side-effect of impatient horniness.

That sure had been a hole dug to nowhere.   

She jumped suddenly as she felt Shigaraki’s fingers run down the exposed skin of her lower back.

“Are you sure?” he leaned into her ear, “You can keep this on…”

“H-Hey,” she tried to hide the shutter that the soft brush of his nails slipped from her, “There are kids around.”

“Well what do you expect me to do when you talk and dress like that?” he buried his nose into her hair.

“Seriously?” she huffed a laugh, “And here I thought you’d be mad that I wasn’t wearing a bikini.”

He pressed a grin into the side of her neck, “Bikinis are great too. But one pieces are also sexy as fuck…”

A thought struck her suddenly — memories of hushed giggles and captious whispers. That rumor train that she’d long been a crew member on. Maybe she could find something out here after all.

“So is that why you stalked girls on the swim team?”

Shigaraki pulled away, looking at her genuinely taken aback, “The fuck is that supposed to mean?” 

“Oh come on ,” she pressed, not buying it for a second, “I saw you ogling our practices all the time.”

“Well yeah. The pool is right by the third year building and I have fucking eyes.” he said.

“Fuwa-senpai said that you stole her underwear.”

“ Mawata Fuwa?” he snorted, “She wishes.”

She cocked a brow, “So you never stole a girl’s underwear?” 

“I never said that.”

There was a pretty good chance there was some truth to that, but from the little grin he shot her, he seemed to be joking. So she found herself laughing either way as she pulled her straw to her lips.

“So, uh…”

She looked up from her drink curiously, pausing when she noticed Shigaraki’s fingers grazing his neck, the way he stared down into his near-empty glass — like maybe he didn’t find the conversation as light-hearted as he let on.

“...did you believe all those rumors?”

She set her drink back down onto the counter.

“Some of them,” she answered, “I was pretty sure you didn’t kidnap a freshman at least.”

He whipped back to her, nonplussed, “They said I kidnapped someone?”

She nodded, “Camie Utsuhimi. She hadn’t told anyone before she transferred to Shiketsu, so…”

He filled in the blank, his fingers pulling faster at his skin with a scowl, “Fuck, I hate that school.”

“Hey, it’s not like you make it hard to have a reputation,” she reminded, “You could stand to clean up and reel in the creepy a bit if you actually want to make friends.”

“I don’t .”

She rolled her eyes, “Well, then you don’t get to complain!”

“I’m not ,” he snapped, looking back down to his drink, “People just suck is all.”

Her brows furrowed, keying into the way his neck was starting to pinken from the irritation of his nails. She reached forward and swatted his hand away from his neck, earning a surprisingly startled look.

“I know.”

A silence fell over them as they looked eye to eye. A long, jarringly charged one that somehow made her feel both on edge and content at the same time.

It was a feeling she really didn’t care to marinate in.

“Welp!” she stood suddenly, pushing her glass across the counter, “As always, it was terrible seeing you.”

His brows furrowed, “Where are you going?”

She stretched her arms overhead, “Was thinking about hitting the wave pool. It didn’t look too crowded when we were walking over.”

He shot her a look that didn’t so much as imply, but clearly communicated that he was not happy with that idea.

“What?” she said, “You can come if you want. It’s a free country .”

He turned back to the counter, muttering, “No, I’m good. Have fun.”

She paused. Usually, him setting her free would be a Godsend. But that right there was the issue.  She couldn’t think of a single instance where he’d let her go off to her own devices, especially while she was wearing a swimsuit. Yet here he was, waving her off without a fight. And the tone of his voice when he said it…

“You sure?”

“Yes.” he insisted, again, just a little too impatiently.

“Oh, come on,” she crossed her arms, “Don’t you want to race?”

He snorted, “I’m not cocky enough to think that I’m gonna beat an actual swimmer.”

“No, but you are stubborn enough to try.” 

He grunted and waved her off. “Just go already. You’re annoying me.”

Oh. Oh, ho ho. If this was about what she thought it was—

“...do you not know how to swim?”

He took just a little too long to respond, and he realized it quickly when she gasped. She’d struck gold.

“You don’t know how to swim!” she all but screamed.

“I know how to swim!” he barked back, just as loud.

“Oh you so don’t!”

“Who cares?!” he snapped, although based on how red his ears were  burning, he obviously did, “It’s not like you even need to swim for most of this stuff anyway...”

She couldn’t help but laugh. The way he was pouting — arms crossed, hood pulled up — revealed that despite how superior he always tried to act around her, he clearly had not outgrown his moody teenager phase yet. He glared back at her, obviously less than pleased by how entertained she was by this. And for a second, she almost felt bad. 

It wasn’t a feeling of guilt or longing or anything, much more close to pity. And in truth she knew she shouldn’t even feel that much in this moment, knew that he didn’t deserve it. And yet the way he looked right now, the genuine shame and embarrassment he could no longer hope to hide — he was like a scraggly feral cat who she was trying to feed. One that swiped and bit and hissed at her every time she got close, but once she started to actually give up and close the slider, yowled for her not to leave.

This was her in. She had the upper hand. And she’d always been a sucker for cats.

“Come on then.”

Shigaraki looked down at her hand, extended to him, then back up, suspicious, “Why?”

“Because I’m gonna teach you how to swim, dickwad.”

There was an indoor pool that even when the park was open to the public, was pretty under-utilized compared to the other attractions. Today it was all but empty save for an old man doing laps and a pair of young parents playing with their toddler in the wading end.

And then of course, Shigaraki and her. 

She stood on the opposite side of the shallow end from the young family, waiting for him to come out of the locker room. This was very intentional, as she had a feeling there was going to be a lot of cussing involved with this lesson. She knew it was the correct decision as Shigaraki, freshly clad in his black (of course) rented trunks, stormed up to the pool with all of the enthusiasm of a wet cat.  

As he got closer, he alternated between glaring at the family’s direction, and glaring even harder down at her in the water — obviously not thrilled to be put on the same level as a literal infant.

“Come on, Shigaraki. It’s only three feet deep.” she teased, “I believe in you.”

“You’re enjoying this way too much.” he growled as he descended the steps into the water.

She was — oh absolutely she was. But her laughter quickly caught in her throat as soon as Shigaraki got close enough for her to see the details of his body.

To see the scars.

He had been so cavalier about being shirtless earlier, she had genuinely expected him to have a completely normal body. That he had nothing he was trying to hide. And maybe he didn’t. Plenty of these marks read the same as the ones on his neck — self-inflicted. The light pink hatching of the new and the lichenification of the old were all undeniably from his scratching. 

But there were others. 

A long split curving up the left side of his ribs. Little blotchy circles clustered on his chest. Those ones looked almost like burns…

Just what the fuck happened to him?

“That good, huh?”

She snapped back up to look at him, all sorts of questions right on the tip of her tongue. But they were caught there as soon as she saw his expression.

Annoyingly smug, just like always. No insecurity or deeper expectation present. Like he wasn’t expecting her to notice anything other than his, admittedly, surprisingly toned physique.

Whether he was genuinely misinterpreting her stare, or pretending to so that they could avoid a deeper conversation, she wasn’t sure. But she decided to go with it anyway. She wasn’t quite prepared for this level of discovery just yet.

“O-Oh, shut up,” she shook the wariness out of her head, “So do you know how to float?”

He sneered, “What kind of stupid question is that?”

“It depends on your answer.” 

He took a pregnant pause before muttering something unintelligible. Whatever it was, the answer was obviously no.

“It’s fine, everyone starts somewhere!” she assured, “Now get on your back.”

She regretted it even before she finished saying it and that stupid smirk that stretched across his face didn’t help. 

“That’s my line.”

“It’s literally not.” she sighed, reaching her hand back behind him, ready to guide his head, “I’m serious, lean back. We’re starting with backfloat.”

He started to lean back, but not without a lot of looking back and forth between her and her arm, clinging to his suspicion and rotten attitude all the way down.

She wondered if maybe she should’ve started with getting him comfortable with submerging, but she had figured that he would’ve been insulted by such a rudimentary step, if his response to floating was anything to go off.

“Would you stop looking at me like that? Believe it or not, I do actually know what I’m doing.” she said, “I work as a kids’ swimming instructor during the summers.”

“Those poor kids.” he snarked as the back of his neck came to rest in her palm.

Normally she would’ve smacked him, but given the critical moment they were currently at, she continued with the lesson.

“Okay, now feet and arms up like a starfish.” she instructed, hands guiding the back of his calves to the surface, “It’s all about buoyancy and center of gravity. You want to distribute your weight so that —”

“—The upward pressure of the water is stronger than the downward pressure in any one spot. I got it.” he huffed.

“Well then, if you’re such an expert,” she announced, tauntingly, “Go ahead and give it a try.”

She quickly pulled her hands back and Shigaraki dropped like a stone, ass first. He stood back up fast, sputtering both water and clumps of his own wet hair clinging to his mouth.

“What the fuck?!”

“Wanna actually listen to me now?” she laughed as Shigaraki shoved his bangs out of his face.

He didn’t respond with more than some incoherent grumbling, clearly humbled but not willing to admit it. He did however step back into her waiting hand and let her guide him back down into the water.

She decided to move on and not rub it in his face (as much as he deserved it). It would only discourage him. And while maybe she should’ve wanted that, she had been the one to get herself into this particular situation. So sabotaging it would only waste both of their time.

“You need to keep your hips up.” she explained.

She moved the hand supporting his lower back down to the bottom of his tail bone and pushed up, aligning his hips with the rest of his body. “Like this.”

He smirked, “I think this was just an excuse to touch my ass.”

“I'll drown you.”

Their lesson continued pretty similarly throughout the rest of the afternoon. As stubborn and a pain in the ass to teach as Tomura Shigaraki was, he was nothing if not a fast learner. Floating had been a quick mastering for him, on his back and his front. Not learning how to swim had clearly been one of those things that just slipped his experiences over the years rather than anything with hydrophobic implications. He had no trouble putting his head under water or even doing blowouts.

The kicking lesson, however, had been a level of hilarious that she wasn’t prepared for. The way he bent his knees and brutishly kicked into the water like it was a soccer ball, had her bent over the coping laughing for a good ten minutes. But he was quick to adapt the adjustments she gave him (perhaps quicker than he otherwise would’ve so as to avoid another moment of humiliation to that degree). 

And strangely enough, she was actually enjoying herself a little. She’d been finding some legitimate entertainment in not only his moments of floundering and looking like a wet mop, but also in just his presence. In the snarky jokes he made, in the games he recommended she buy in the Steam Winter Sale, in the actual pride she felt when in almost no-time, he was pushing off the wall to streamline into her palms.

For a brief moment, it was like she was at the bottom of the pool again — the weight of the world floating naively on the surface. She had no boyfriend, no pressure, not even the memory of why she was catching the hands of this particular person in the first place. She was just herself, warts and all. And she was smiling.

Which meant it was time for Shigaraki to ruin it. 

“Hey, that was awesome!” she cheered as he stood, “We should be able to move onto strokes now!”

“I’m good.” he grunted, tapping the side of his head to try and shake some water out of his ears.

“What, worried you’ll get pruny?” she teased, flicking her finger up the creases on his cheekbone.

“No,” he said, “I’m bored.”

Well, not just bored. In truth, Shigaraki was getting pretty antsy. He could only stare at her curves and feel her hands all over his body for so long before it got him wanting to take advantage of this particular skin pack and re-enact a swimsuit scene he’d jacked off to a couple weeks ago.

“Let’s do something else…” Shigaraki grinned.

His hands whispered down the length of her ribcage, that spandex blend already feeling so tight and perfect against his fingers. He couldn’t wait to see her tits bouncing out of it.

“Hey,” she looked back to the young family still splashing and laughing nearby, uncomfortably, “There are people here…”

“Then you better get in the locker room,” he leaned down, growling hotly into her ear, “Because I’m gonna fuck you in the next minute regardless.” 

She pushed back at his chest, anxiety coiling up her spine. She was remembering why she was here, remembering everything that was wrong with it.

Breaking the surface of the water.

“C-Come on Shigaraki,” she yelped as his fingers slipped under her suit, “We’re at your Dad’s event.”

Shigaraki suddenly went rigid, his hands frozen on her ass. She didn’t notice yet.

“Do you really think that he’d—?

“Don’t call him that.”

She startled, taken aback by the clear and sudden hostility in his voice. She looked up to his face and was even more surprised by what she saw.

Jaw clenched, eyes wide and piercing. His body was tense to the point of trembling, his fingers in particular twitching at her hips to scratch the neck that was out of their reach. She’d never seen him like this. Not at school, not amongst All for One’s colleagues — not even when she first came into his room, and he held nothing but contempt and a desire to ruin her. 

He looked like he was in pain. Like he was going to scream. Like he could kill . Like he was going to be sick.

She could barely squeak out the words, “B-But isn’t he—?”

“No.” 

Realization crashed over her, and dread wasn’t far behind. The scars, the weird language of “Sirs” and “Successors” between him and All for One, the anger and strengths of his convictions. The way he’d talked about inequality and abandonment before, it had struck her as so odd. Like he understood it all firsthand even though everything about his lifestyle proved the contrary in her mind. Now, she wasn’t so sure.

Guilt burnt through her chest, burning and aching stronger than any she’d felt before — and that was saying something.

“Oh.”

She smacked herself internally. Oh? Seriously ? That’s all she could fucking say?

But it was enough to catch Shigaraki’s attention, to bring him back to Earth. He quickly realized his mistake, recognized the intrigue that his brusqueness was undoubtedly sparking. And he didn’t want to deal with it.

“I um… I’m so sorry, I didn’t—”

“It’s fine.” he grunted, pushing away from her.

Her brows furrowed, not so sure. Before she could think about it, she was reaching out to him, “Tomura—”

“Don’t think too much into it. He’s not my father so just…” he shook his head, before walking towards the pool steps, “...don’t call him that.”

Chapter Text

She didn’t always live in Tokyo. The first place her family lived in was actually a rural little beach town in the Tottori Prefecture. Although, to be honest, even town was a generous word for it. It was a tiny port village where squid fishermen outnumbered non-squid fishermen by about two to one. A quiet place where everyone knew everyone and there were only two schools — a combined elementary and middle school and a high school.

As far as the town itself went, she loved growing up there. Her dad and his siblings had been born there, and their parents before them, and so on. Family was everywhere and barbecues were a weekly occurrence. She loved running up and down the beach to her grandpa’s general store every day — the flagship of a small but successful chain that had even started to spread into Shimane Prefecture.

She loved catching stag beetles and spending the cold days making little terrariums in their mason jars. She loved playing hard in the sun and swimming in the ocean until dark. There was a lot about this little town that she loved and she looked forward to showing her soon-to-arrive baby brother all of it.

But of course, there was a lot that she didn’t love as well.

“Expelled?! She couldn’t have been expelled! Are you sure they said the word ‘expelled’?”

She sat in the hallway, just around the corner from the living room where her father was assembling moving boxes. And where his father was trying to stop him.

“Pretty sure, Dad.” her father answered, punctuated by the tear of packing tape.

“Well, let me go talk to the principal. I’ve got some pull in this town, maybe they’ll overlook it!” her grandfather insisted.

“She hit the principal’s son with a chair,” her father sighed, “They aren’t going to overlook it.”

Her Grandfather went silent, definitively put in check by that information. But not checkmate. He was quick to bounce back.

“Just because she got expelled, doesn’t mean you have to move. She can go to school in the next town. Or even somewhere else in the prefecture.”

“And what about when she comes home from school? When those kids see her around town or shop in the store?” her father demanded, “This isn’t just about the expulsion. This place isn’t good for her.”

“Fine — then you move to Yonago. Or somewhere in Okayama even! I just don’t understand why you feel the need to run all the way to Tokyo!”

He yelled louder and louder, the anger and betrayal building in her grandfather’s voice with every word. She was pretty sure that she would’ve heard it even if she had been up in her room like she was supposed to, instead of hiding on the other side of the wall, eavesdropping. It was bellowing and desperate — filled to the brim with emotion. For a long moment, it seemed to even silence the cicadas outside.

“...I think the change will be good for her,” her father finally breathed, “For all of us.”

She could practically hear the tightening of her Grandfather’s fist, the cold severity of his glare as he rose to look down at his son.

“I don’t support it,” he growled, “If you go to Tokyo, you’re on your own. Don’t expect any help from me or any of your siblings.”

Her heart dropped, chest swelling with confusion and distress. What did that mean? Was she breaking up the family? It couldn’t be. Her grandfather couldn’t mean it. Her father couldn’t possibly accept it. 

And then, even louder, she could hear the sad smile in her own father’s voice as he said, “I won’t.”

“Hey.” 

She looked up from the crux of her knees, to her mother looking down at her in concern.

“You shouldn’t be listening to that.” she said, reaching a hand out to her daughter.

She stared at it, blankly. Her mother frowned.

“Are you really going to make me pick you up, right now?” she scolded, resting a hand on her belly.

She didn’t say anything, but she did stand up to take her mother’s hand.

“There we go,” her mother encouraged, reaching her fingers to prod gently at the dark bruise swelling around her cheek and brow,  “How’s your eye?”

“—s'okay.” she breathed, holding back a flinch surprisingly well. Her mother still caught it though.

“Yeah?” she lilted, sweet and leading, “That mean boy at school didn’t hit you too hard?” 

“I hit him harder.” she muttered.

Her Mother sighed, unable to decide if she should be amused or exhausted, “Yes you did, didn’t you?”

She buried her head suddenly into her mother’s swollen belly hard enough to feel her heartbeat. 

“Sweetie?”

She buried her head deeper, little hands clinging to the fabric of her dress, trying to wipe the burn away from her eyes.

“Honey, what’s wrong?” she insisted, “Does something else hurt?”

It wasn’t working.

“Is…”

She ran a hand through her daughter’s hair, coaxing.

“What is it?"

“...Is the baby never gonna see home?” she croaked, “Because of me?”

Her Mother’s brows furrowed. She knew the feeling that was currently aching in her daughter’s chest — she felt it too. The grief over the loss of a life they adored. The fear of starting somewhere new. 

The guilt of wishing she could’ve done better.

She felt it all. So strongly that she was having a hard time keeping her own eavesdropping and anxious midnight walks to a minimum. The pregnancy hormones certainly weren’t helping. This was their home, she didn’t want to lose it over something like this.

 But this wasn’t about her. This was about her daughter.

Her family.

“He will,” she assured, “He’ll see our new home.”

She looked up at her mother tearfully. A smile was returned. A genuine, comforting, contagious smile.

Her mother twirled a stray lock softly around her finger as she saw a little glimmer of hope flare in her daughter’s eyes. She knew that it wasn’t going to bookend these feelings for either of them. But it would keep them steady for the night.

“Come on,” she moved a hand to her daughter’s back, leading her down the hall, “It’s way past your bedtime.”

“—the meat?”

Wait, what?

She turned to Mirio, who was looking at her expectantly.

“Huh?” 

“Could you pass the meat?” he repeated, gesturing down past her.

She looked back to the bowl of beef sitting just on the other side of her elbow.

“Oh!” she suddenly collected herself, pushing the bowl to him quickly, “Yeah of course.”

Mirio smiled at her thankfully and moved the bowl over the pot, lifting a few strips with the tongs to show to the table, “Alright guys — how much meat do we want?”

The last relay group event had been a surprising hit with the freshmen. The group had really cliqued and was already talking about beach trips and “next times” before they’d even left the restaurant. So, the seniors decided to go for a sequel before the meet. This time, she, Nejire, Amajiki, and Mirio took their underclassmen out for sukiyaki.

Hanging out with them all was a fun time — no, really. It was. They were a genuinely good, energetic group of kids that had a great synergy not only with each other, but with the seniors that had taken them under their wings. But…

“All of it!” Tetsu and Kirishima yelled, much to the dismay of Amajiki sitting next to them. 

“We need to leave enough room for vegetables!” Iida scolded emphatically from the other end of the table. 

…They were also a lot . Even more “a lot” than the seniors on their own — and it was burning out her already waning social battery fast. Well, that and the fact that her mind hadn’t stopped racing since the weekend. 

Since the waterpark.

Todoroki lifted a bowl of soba noodles in Mirio’s direction, simply saying, “This.”

“Those go in at the end, Half-and-Half!” Bakugo snapped next to him.

“Hey, you okay?”

She shook herself out of yet another trance and looked back to Mirio. He smiled at her with a tinge of something that wasn’t quite concern, but it wasn’t an arbitrary ask either. He probably wouldn’t accept a handwave as a response.

“Y-Yeah, I’m fine!” she chirped in that overly-saccharine way that Shigaraki hated, “Why do you ask?”

He shrugged and turned to add more ingredients into the hotpot, “You just seem a little bit out of it today.”

Out of it was an understatement. She hadn’t been able to focus on anything for these last couple days — she’d even walked halfway to the train station this morning with her house slippers still on. There was no room for any thoughts at all in her head outside of:

“He’s not my father so just… don’t call him that.”

Those chilling words and the scars. The weird ways that Shigaraki and All for One had referred to each other. The scratching. The way he dressed and kept himself and his space. The medication. The Doctor. The everything.

Strange little puzzle pieces were starting to fit together more clearly — and she wasn’t sure that she wanted to see the picture they created.

Was it abuse? None of the more questionable scars had looked fresh. Maybe abuse in the past, from his real parents? Who were his real parents? When did he lose them — fuck, why did she care? No she didn’t care. Maybe a little? No! Ugggghhh. 

She wanted to scream. She’d set out to get some dirt on him, to figure him out so that she could have some kind of advantage in all this. But maybe she’d dug too deep. Somehow, she’d found a lot more than she had bargained for, and yet felt like she understood him even less.

It didn’t help that he hadn’t reached out to her once since then. Not to game, not to chat, not to badger her for dirty pics or berate her for being nosy. It was just radio silence. Today’s tutoring session would be the first interaction they’d have since the pool and she had absolutely no idea what she’d be walking into.

“You’re getting enough sleep right?”

Crap. Mirio was still talking to her.

She laughed sheepishly, “No, not really.”

He looked like was about to scold her, but was suddenly interrupted by Midoriya on his other side. “Togata-senpai, I forgot to ask. Does Sir want us in on Saturday?”

“Oh, yeah he does.” Mirio hesitantly shifted his attention to Midoriya, “But don’t worry, he doesn’t work interns on the weekend very often. It’s just because of this big case coming up.”

She leaned over, happy to further this new topic.

“You’re working at Mirio’s office, Midoriya?” she asked.

The freshman boy nodded excitedly, “Yep! I started last week!”

Mirio tilted his head thoughtfully, “I thought I told you that already.”

Did he? He probably did. Fuck, she was really dropping the ball with him today.

“O-Oh yeah, that’s right!” she said, looking down to take a drink of her iced tea, “Well, I’m glad you have a new commuting partner.” 

A playful smile jumped across Mirio’s lips.

“Aww, are you jealous?” he asked, nudging her teasingly.

She literally wasn’t. But it would probably only help to pretend.

“I guess I just miss walking with you.” she lied, leaning into his shoulder.

He smiled down at her, warm and sympathetic.

“Don’t you worry,” he cupped her hand on the table and gave it a little squeeze, “Deku’s great company, but he’s not my girlfriend!”

“You two are dating?”

They turned to Todoroki, staring blankly from directly across the table. His expression and tone were both completely unreadable, although his head was slightly tilted to indicate some sort of confusion. She couldn’t tell if it was a poker face or an empty head. She had a bad feeling about it either way. 

She tried to laugh it off politely, “Is it that surprising?”

“I don’t know,” he said, still looking directly at her, “I guess you guys just don’t seem like a couple.”

Her stomach dropped, the glass in her hand almost slipping right down with it.

Fuck.

“Are you stupid?!” Bakugo suddenly demanded, “Those two couldn’t be more PDA if they tried!”

Todoroki turned to him, genuinely enlightened, “Oh, is that so?”

“Yes!”

“I see…” he looked down, seeming to really marinate in this information. Then he turned back to Bakugo with a new question. “And what is PDA?”

“SERIOUSLY?!”

The conversation moved away from them almost immediately — onto poking fun at Todoroki, the upcoming meet, math homework, whether or not Bakugo could add chili oil to the pot — completely light-hearted. No harm, no foul, in theory. But to her nerves, the damage was already done.

Again, she found herself wondering if the two-toned freshman across from her was perceptive or stupid. Everyone around the table seemed to think the latter. By the way Mirio was smiling and chatting away exactly like before, he obviously didn’t think anything of it. But now she couldn’t shake the words from her mind. 

“You don’t seem like a couple.”

Her skin burned, as if she had the words “Liar”, “Cheater”, “Slut” branded all across her. There had to be something he was catching onto. And it was only a matter of time before the rest of them did too.

“Soba now?” Todoroki asked Bakugo, none the wiser.

“NO!”

The first thing she noticed when she walked into Shigaraki’s room was that the bed was made. Like, furniture catalog level of made. Not a wrinkle or stain in sight.

The second was that Shigaraki looked genuinely surprised to see her. He whipped around when she opened the door — headset on, and hand buried in a bag of chips.

A deer in headlights.

“Wha-aroo ‘ooingeer?” he asked through cheeks chipmunked with Doritos.

Instantly, every concern and anxiety she’d had was forgotten. She snorted. “Were those supposed to be words?”

He swallowed and repeated, “What’re you doing here?”

She looked confused, “Well, it’s Tuesday…” 

He snapped back to his computer to check the clock at the bottom of the screen. “Shit, is it?”

A little bit of concern slipped back into her mind as she looked Shigaraki over. He looked even more unkempt and fidgety than usual. Tufts of hair poking out from his headphones in every direction. Eyes bloodshot with big dark circles underneath. Fingers picking restlessly at a loose chip of paint on his desk. 

And she didn’t even want to know when the last time he changed his clothes was. That almost looked like the same hoodie he’d worn to the pool, but she couldn’t be sure.

“I can go home if this isn’t a good time.” she gestured to the door.

“No, no— I’m this close to beating this raid boss,” he waved her in quickly, “So just set aside any problems you don’t get and I’ll help you after.”

She stared at him in disbelief. She one-hundred percent expected him to demand she crawl under his desk and suck him off while he played. But the first thing he’d thought about was being on the hook for her homework? 

Wow, he must’ve been really invested in this. 

“...how long have you been “this close” to beating it?”

“Shut up,” he growled, turning back to his game.

She couldn’t help but snicker. Shigaraki had been so infuriatingly good at everything she’d seen him do so far — aside from social interaction and maintaining a decent moral compass of course. So, it was kind of great to see him fail so comically at something twice in one week.

“Don’t call him that.”

Her laugh died as soon as it started, thoughts of his swimming pulling along with it the thoughts of everything else. 

This felt weird. 

Though could she say that, really? What even was weird for them? What was normal for them? Theoretically, it was this. She’d been fully prepared for a punishment or at the very least, a really uncomfortable conversation when she showed up today. 

But for all intents and purposes, Tomura Shigaraki seemed… fine . 

There was nothing in his body language that indicated he was still upset or shaken in any way since the pool. There was a new hodgepodge of scratch marks on his neck, but that wasn’t especially new. 

Overall, it seemed like his clear all-nighter(s) had just been the result of his pigheadedness as a gamer rather than the dredging up of any emotional trauma. Honestly, she was kind of surprised she didn’t see him like this more often. Maybe she didn’t have anything to worry about—

She slapped her cheeks — damn it! Even if it did affect him she shouldn’t have been worrying. Stop it, stop it, stop it!

She jumped when Shigaraki suddenly rage-smacked the keyboard.

“Fucking—! Come on! ”

Oh yeah. He was nowhere close to beating it.

Her first instinct was to go downstairs to work at the dining table, but then she caught sight of that impeccably made bed again. She had a feeling that Kurogiri had taken advantage of Shigaraki’s gaming marathon to sneak in and change the sheets. She ran her fingers along the tightly tucked comforter, soft and perfectly pressed — practically confirming it.

Well, they were clean. Shigaraki obviously hadn’t slept in them yet. And it was cold downstairs.

Ah, what the hell. 

She set herself up on the back corner of the bed, leaning against the wall, spreading the relevant textbooks and notes around her to use for reference as she scribbled into her workbooks. 

An hour passed like that, and then another —  her position shifting here and there as she felt new parts of her body get stiff. 

First she used her knees as a desk. Then she wrote in her lap. Next was the side lounge. Until eventually she’d achieved her final form of laying on her stomach, legs swaying up and crossing at the ankles lackadaisically — her lips twitching involuntarily every time she heard a frustrated grunt or curse from Shigaraki’s desk.

When she finally took her first extended break between subjects, she realized that laying down probably hadn’t been the best idea. This bed was comfy .

Honestly, she didn’t even know how she’d managed to focus as long as she did in the first place — she was fucking exhausted. She hadn’t been lying to Mirio earlier — she genuinely hadn’t gotten a good night’s sleep since the pool, her overthinking meter dialed up to the max. But that wasn’t the only reason why. 

It felt wrong to even think it, but she was always tired after hanging out with her friends. It’s not like she hated them. Not by a long shot. She liked them a lot and enjoyed spending time with them, and the feeling was obviously mutual. 

But she couldn’t ignore the disconnect.

She felt it whenever she saw them together. Nejire, Mirio, Tamaki — they all just got each other. Spending time together for those three wasn’t just fun, it was revitalizing. They breathed life into each other, they were authentic. And the freshmen today had clicked perfectly in place along with them. 

In a way that she never had.

She felt like she always had to be “on” around them. As popular and known as she had come to be for it, smiling was not actually her natural tendency. Conversation was always a brutal exercise in anxiety and word jenga as she tried to craft the perfect response so as to seem likable and laidback. And sleepovers always left her more exhausted than the day before. 

All of this was especially true when it came to her boyfriend. For some reason, she felt like she had to try extra hard around Mirio. She wasn’t sure if it was because of the way he constantly complimented and doted on her — made her out to be a way better person than she could ever pretend to be — or if it was out of guilt. And while she knew that he would never ask any of this from her, the fact remained that she felt wrong being anything less than perfect for him. 

It was the least she could do since she didn’t love him.

She felt a spot in her spine crack, pulled just right in her long, catlike full-body stretch. The ease of tension was so satisfying, she couldn’t help but roll onto her side and let her head drop to the comforter next to her textbook.

Things weren’t like that here, not anymore anyway. Not ever, actually, if she really thought about it. She never had to worry about keeping up appearances with Shigaraki. She didn’t have to worry if she looked good or said the right thing — he’d want her regardless.

And for some weird reason, studying was easier here than anywhere else. Even when he wasn’t tutoring her, she always got so much done. She was pretty sure it was because it was so quiet.

“Motherfucker!”

She chuckled, her eyes fluttering closed. 

Well, maybe not.

She sighed, folding her arms under her head. She really shouldn’t have been feeling this way. Not here of all places. Not with how many questions she still had. 

Like, why was she so much more comfortable here than anywhere else? Than even in her own home? With her own friends and family? What was she going to do about it? What was she going to do about Shigaraki? She needed to figure it out. She needed to get back to work. She needed to open her eyes. 

But instead, she felt herself engulfed by the smell of clean linens. And another, more pleasantly familiar smell, buried underneath.

Shigaraki all but threw his headset onto his desk as the little raid prize congratulatory screen flashed across his monitor. He leaned back in his chair, cracking his neck as he awaited a snarky comment or demand that he could eagerly rebuttal or punish for — take some stress out with.

But all he was met with was silence.

He turned in his chair, surprised to see her neither ignoring him or rearing up to insult him, but fast asleep on his bed — a not insignificant puddle of drool collecting on the comforter.

It stirred something in him. Something weird.

A couple of weeks ago, he would’ve become absolutely giddy by the sight. His mind would be racing with all the ways he could play with her, could tweak and tease her body until she was drenched — arousing without rousing her — then picking exactly the right moment to cruelly shake her awake and fuck her stupid into the mattress.

But not a single one of these thoughts crossed his mind at this moment. No thought came to him actually. Just a feeling. 

Warmth.

She was comfortable and secure enough to fall asleep on his bed. He didn’t even feel that. It was the reason he’d started this stupidly hard raid in a game he didn’t even like in the first place. 

Shigaraki couldn’t sleep. Well, that wasn’t exactly right. He could sleep, actually. His body (and Kurogiri) had all but forced him into bed late Sunday night after a good five day run without. After the pool. 

But the second his eyes had actually shut, he saw things. Things that had him waking up sweating, scratching, and getting violently sick across his pillows.

Again.

Shigaraki rose from his chair and stalked over to her. 

He wondered for a moment if she saw things too. If maybe the bed itself was cursed. Given the happy little sigh that slipped from her lips, he guessed not.

That should’ve pissed him off honestly — the fact that she could sleep so soundly in his bed when he himself couldn’t. It should’ve made him want to touch her. To make her see things in her sleep. To make this bed cursed. 

To prove her first impression of him right — that she was not safe with him, not in this room. To prove his own feelings wrong.

He should’ve fucking ruined her.

Instead, he crawled onto the bed — careful not to be too loud or fast — and laid down behind her. He slid closer until he could feel the warmth radiating from her skin, and could smell her fruity shampoo. He struggled for a moment with what to do next, what he even wanted to do next. To spoon her? To trace patterns into her skin? To run his hands through her hair?

Shit, he had no idea what to do with his hands when he wasn’t groping her or tearing into himself.

He ultimately decided to curl up against her back, hands closed into his chest and forehead pressed softly in-between her shoulder blades. He wondered for a moment if maybe he’d be able to close his eyes, to actually sleep. He was certainly feeling the closest to relaxed that he’d felt in weeks like this.

She shifted slightly, pressing closer back into him — her body unconsciously drawn to the warmth. He moved his head back so that she didn’t pinch his nose with her wriggling. She let out a soft little sigh as she finally nestled back into his hips.

Everything within him eased at the feeling.

No. No, he didn’t want to try and sleep. He didn’t want to risk it. Didn’t want to spoil this.

So he just buried his nose in her hair and breathed.

There was a warmth against her cheek. A pressure around her forearms and the back of her knees. A cold tickle on her nose. 

On a normal day, any single one of these sensations would’ve snapped her awake. But the combination had caught her in a very deep spot in her sleep cycle — one not easily pulled out of. Not to mention there was a light sway to her body that was rocking her right back into it.

It was a familiar “click” sound that finally stirred her. She didn’t process that she was being carried until she was already set down. Her eyes fluttered open as she felt something thin but secure pull against her chest. A seatbelt, she realized as the car door closed on her. 

Okay, this was a car — her dad’s car. But when did she get here? Where had her homework gone? When did the sun go down?

“ —angs ‘araki-un. ”

There were two voices on the other side of the door — very muffled. She couldn’t hear a clear word they were saying, but she definitely recognized who they belonged to.

She took a quick peek out the window, not wanting to give away the fact that she wasn’t sleeping anymore. 

It was her Dad and Tomura Shigaraki. 

Shigaraki was sliding her school bag off of his shoulder to hand over to him, saying something that looked like “No problem”. 

Wait, had he carried her out here? What was her Dad even doing here in the first place? What time was it?!

The men exchanged a few more muffled words — her father finally turning back towards the car while saying what she could infer was something like “say hi to your Dad for me”, given the way Shigaraki cringed. But he didn’t look to correct him. Just turned to walk back into his building.

She dropped her head against the door and closed her eyes as her Dad came close enough to the car to see in — feigning unconsciousness. She could hear the driver’s door open and him settle into the seat next to her. 

As the car revved to a start, she peeked her eyes open one more time, watching Shigaraki reach the front doors of his building. The doorman opened them for him, but he paused just before entering. He turned to look back at the car with an expression she couldn’t quite clock. Something soft.

She didn’t have time to figure it out before the car pulled forward, pushing Shigaraki out of view.

“You’re awake.”

It wasn’t a question. She winced.

She sat up “groggily”, throwing in a fake yawn and stretching for good measure, “What time is it?”

“Just after 10:30.”

Her eyes widened, snapping to the clock on the dashboard for confirmation, “Oh shit.”

“Yeah. Oh shit.”

She looked at her Dad cautiously. His tone and demeanor didn’t seem mad. But he didn’t seem happy either — it was weird.

“I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to worry you,” she said, genuinely, “I can’t believe I fell asleep for that long…”

“Well, we weren’t too worried,” he said, “Tomura-kun called and let me know where you were before it got late enough for that. Told me he didn’t want to wake you though.”

“Oh. That was… nice of him.” she said, genuinely surprised and weirded out by the information.

It was nice of him. What the fuck ?

She looked back out the window, back towards the Shigarakis’ building growing smaller in the distance — as if she’d still be able to see him standing in the doorway. As if she’d be able to find an explanation.

Her father watched her. 

“Hey, listen…”

She turned to him curiously.

“I’m really glad that you and Tomura are hitting it off so well, and he’s obviously a nice, respectful young man,” he explained, “But it’s still not a good idea to let yourself fall asleep alone in a boy’s room like that. You should be more careful.”

She blinked.

Oh he could not be serious.

She had to dig her fingernails into her thigh to keep herself from busting out laughing. Still, a giggle managed to slip through.

“I’m serious, peanut,” he insisted, “He could take advantage of you.”

Oh he had no idea.

“Trust me Dad. I completely understand,” she rolled her eyes and looked back out the window, “But you have nothing to worry about.”

And weirdly enough, neither did she.

Chapter Text

弔う//romaji: tomurau 

(verb, transitive) 

1. to condole, to hold memorial service for, to mourn

When Tomura Shigaraki was nine years old, he found a dog.

It had been on the walk “home” from school. He hadn’t quite shaken the habit of taking the back alley routes, despite his new Guardian telling him there was no need to avoid the main streets anymore. In fact, he had also told him that he didn’t need to walk at all, that he could be driven to and from school, but Shigaraki didn’t want that either. 

Old survival habits died hard. So he walked.

There had been a thrash in one of the garbage cans he passed. Normally he didn’t think twice about those sounds — they weren’t enough to raise his guard for. Just feral cats or rubbish shifting under its own weight. But this sound had been different. It had been followed by a distinctive yelp.

He walked over to the trash can, curious. Whatever was in there couldn’t have been very big. While the can had gone still, it hadn’t gone silent. A song of whimpers and squeaks, percussed with echoing scratches. It almost sounded like—

Shigaraki pulled the lid off, revealing a scraggly little puppy sitting at the bottom of the can.

A stray dog wasn’t an unexpected find by any means, but this one still caught him by surprise. Even through the clumped fur and grime, it was easy to make out that it was a Corgi — not exactly the type of puppy you’d find abandoned in a trash can. But it was quickly apparent by the cloudiness of its eyes and the show of its ribs why a backyard breeder had potentially dumped this one.

It was a runt. And it was blind.

The second it heard the sound of the lid, the puppy was up on its hind legs. Jumping and pawing excitedly at every side of the can, frantic and determined to get out.

Shigaraki moved his hands to grab each side of the rim. With a firm grip he kneeled, tilting the can down onto its side so that he could lay it down without jostling it too much. He wasn’t going to pick the dog up by hand — didn’t want to get bitten — but he also didn’t see the point in leaving the poor thing to die in a trash can either.

It scampered out to the concrete eagerly, sniffing left, right, then back to Shigaraki again. Honestly, he’d expected it to run away almost immediately. To chase the squeak of a rat or a smell, to get lost or hit by a car somewhere else in the world where he didn’t feel responsible for it.

But instead, it sniffed closer and closer to Shigaraki. The second it’s wet little nose connected with his slacks, it broke out a big puppy smile and ran straight into him. His first instinct would’ve been to quickly shove it away — he could easily see the filth and insects jumping off of it with every movement. But the stubby little thing was faster than his ability to overcome surprise. 

And soon the puppy was bouncing up his knees and licking excitedly at his face.

“H-Hey, stop it!” he growled, pushing the runt away, but this only made it want to bounce and play more.

He wasn’t sure what did him in — whether it was the wiggling, the determination, the feel of that tiny, tenacious little tongue. But very quickly, Shigaraki was no longer pushing and pulling his head away. He was laughing and rubbing behind its ears, pulling it close to nuzzle into his chest.

And carrying the puppy he’d decided to call Mon-Chan, “home”.

His Guardian hadn’t been quite as accepting when Shigaraki walked resolutely into his home office with little Mon-Chan in his arms.

“A dog, huh?” 

He looked down at Shigaraki from his desk, holding up his wiggling, drooling prize thoughtfully. Then back to Kurogiri, who’d been in the middle of serving him his afternoon coffee before the intrusion. The employee was purposefully withholding any opinion or judgment, but was clearly also less than thrilled by the new little house guest.

“We can bring it by the pound,” Shigaraki’s Guardian said, “One that young should get picked up fairly quickly.”

He gestured for Kurogiri to take the dog from his ward, obviously more than eager to get rid of the thing currently shaking dirt and fleas all over his Persian rug.

Kurogiri had taken all of one step before Shigaraki backed up frantically, pulling the puppy tight into his chest, “No!”

His Guardian cocked a brow.

“I… I wanna keep her…” he muttered, barely over a whisper.

It was a surprising declaration, no matter how unconfident. He’d taken in Tomura Shigaraki coming close to a year ago, and despite constantly reminding him that he could ask for anything he wanted, the boy had never taken him up on the offer. Even when it came to simple things, oftentimes he’d just stare longingly at the platter of sausage in the center of the breakfast table, not able to find the words or confidence to ask for the second helping his stomach was rumbling for.

So this was a first.

He hummed thoughtfully, mulling over the risk/reward ratio of the situation, “I don’t know Tomura. This little cur seems like more work than it’s worth. How about we get you a new game instead?”

Frustration and disappointment rippled through Shigaraki’s body, pushing an itch to the surface he hadn’t felt all afternoon. Before he knew it, the feeling spurred him to fight back.

“Y-You said that I could have whatever I want, right?” he demanded, “Well, I want her!”

His Guardian stared down at him, and Shigaraki instantly recoiled — eyes glued to the ground and fingers to his neck. All nerve lost. He wasn’t able to clock the gratification in the man’s gaze. 

He was quietly impressed.

Kurogiri leaned down to his employer, suggesting just quiet enough so that the younger Shigaraki couldn’t hear.

“If I may, sir — developing a kinship with young Tomura has been more difficult than anticipated, correct?” Kurogiri asked, earning an acceptive nod, “Then perhaps this could be a good opportunity to win his favor. Secure his trust.”

That was a perspective he definitely hadn’t considered — and a very good one at that. He turned back to young Shigaraki — looking for a lapse of commitment, a break. Any reason at all to say no, really. But nothing came. Nervous as he was to admit it, this was clearly what the child wanted. And he was going to stand by it.

His Guardian shook his head with an exasperated chuckle.

“Very well.”

Shigaraki’s smile was instant and beaming. He lifted the puppy up to his nose, a contagious elation that sent the animal wiggling and licking his face once again.

“You hear that, Mon-chan?” he beamed, “You get to stay!”

“On one condition.”

Shigaraki looked up to his Guardian, curious and committed. It didn’t matter what the condition was, he would do it.

“You mustn't get too attached.” he explained, “Your school, your extracurricular studies, the priorities we’ve discussed — those must all come first. You are my successor Tomura, that is your purpose. If I feel that the mutt is in any way distracting you from that, I will get rid of it. Do you understand?”

Shigaraki hesitated. He wasn’t sure why, it was a perfectly reasonable thing to agree to, a stupidly easy answer. But there was a coldness in his Guardian’s voice — one he’d never heard before — that sent a startling chill down his spine. Made this feel like a much deeper commitment than he was prepared for.

But then he felt the quick swipe of a tongue on his nose. And everything was warm again. He wanted what he wanted.

“Yes, sir. I understand.”

There was something sticky on her knee.

That’s all she could think about at this moment. Not the swim meet coming up next weekend. Not the date she had this afternoon. Not even the cock currently pumping in and out of her. Just the feeling of her knee digging harder and harder into something sticky. She was pretty sure it was a candy wrapper. She hoped it was a candy wrapper. 

“ Fuck that’s good.” Shigaraki groaned, between thrusts, “How do you always feel so good?”

Damn it, it was really bothering her now. Maybe she could reach back and grab it. Shigaraki was in a slow and deep mood right now, just reveling in the way her ass looked as he dragged out deliberately. So she might actually be able to get a good grip.

She tried to time it so that she was reaching down to her knee while he was caught up in watching the way she gripped him as he stretched her back. But it was just her luck that he only pulled out halfway this time. His thighs slapped against hers with a force too hard for her to balance her entire weight on one hand, and had her toppling forward face first into the pillows.

Unprepared for the sudden shift, Shigaraki fell forward a bit with her, planting a hand on the wall to catch himself before he dropped entirely on top of her. 

He looked down at her, puzzled and mildly irritated, “The hell—?”

She huffed, expecting a scolding for getting distracted and “killing the mood”, or at the very least, some snarky remark about her clumsiness. But — for what was not the first time this week — Shigaraki actually surprised her.

He pulled her back a bit by her shoulder, leaning down to look at her.

“You good?”

To check on her. 

She stared back at him, probably a little too visibly bewildered, but she couldn’t help it. The furrow in his brows, the gentleness of his hold, the way he looked her in the eyes. He was genuinely concerned about her. Infuriatingly, it kind of made her chest flutter a little.

Damn, she had a low bar these days.

She turned her head back forward, muttering into the pillow, “J-Just lost my balance.”

Luckily, Shigaraki only seemed to attribute the flush of her cheeks to embarrassment over the fall, rather than anything more personal. 

She could hear the smirk in his voice as he teased, “Oh? That good, huh?”

“Shut up,” she breathed, pulling her arm out from under her so that she could push herself back up onto all fours.

But he wouldn’t let her off the hook that easy, he never did. Especially since this particular view had put an idea in his head.

“Well, if you’re having such a hard time staying up…”

He pulled his fingers down her shoulder, intentionally letting his nails drag featherlight along her skin, following the curve of her spine. She shuttered involuntarily as they settled on her lower back, fingers splaying hot across her tailbone. He leaned down, chest hovering over her back, lips just shy of her ear.

“...Maybe you better stay down there then.” he breathed.

He shoved his palm quick up her back, planting firm between her shoulder blades and pressing her down hard into the tangle of sheet. Using her body as anchor for him to pound unforgivingly into her cunt.

“Sh-Shigaraki—!” she grunted out, each thrust pushing more and more breath out of her.

Apparently, the one confirmation that she wasn’t hurt was all the permission he needed to get rougher and put her however he wanted her.

The guy probably only had a few inches on her, but with one hand coiling tight in the junction of her thigh, the other pushing harder and harder into her back, she’d never felt so genuinely small and malleable.

She almost felt more like a sex doll than a person by the way he was pistoning into her — all the while pulling her ass up and pushing her face down — so desperately chasing his own high. She took comfort in that separation honestly.

But then he moved his thumb. Splaying his hand in a way so that with every thrust, she was grinding her clit into his fleshy palm in a way he was quickly learning made her toes curl.

“F-Fuck!” she cried out.

“O-Oh ho, you like that?” he practically giggled, “Fuck yeah, you like that—”

His thrusts were becoming more and more frantic — almost as frantic as his babbling. His palm dragged further up her back. This was too much for it just to be on something. He needed to grip, needed to pull.

Shigaraki’s palm latched to the crux of her shoulder, fingers biting into her jugular in a way that made it even harder to breathe than when he was using her lungs as a push-up bench.

And in a way that had her seeing stars.

“Fuck, Fuck, Fuck—!”

She could barely register the heat of his chest dropping flush against her back, the way he pulled her tighter and tighter into him. Like it wasn’t enough to have his cock inside her as he spilled over. He needed to share skin with her too.

And for a second, she forgot about her sticky knee.

A big pile of rubble. Or was it a house? No. No, that was definitely rubble. It looked familiar — more than familiar. He knew that he’d been there, that he’d stared at this scene before, but he couldn’t remember when.

It glitched back and forth relentlessly — house, rubble, house, rubble. One moment there was a woman that kind of looked like him tending to a garden. The next, first responders were digging hurriedly through piles of splintered wood and crumbled stucco.

The vision played uninterrupted for only one moment. On the demolished side, as a small team of paramedics rolled a sheet-covered stretcher out through what was once a driveway. He could see a hand drop limply from the side of it, pallid and lifeless. A child’s hand.

A sister’s.

“ Come on Tenko! ”

Shigaraki shot up in his bed, throat raw from the cry he didn’t even realize was already ripping out his mouth. He was awake now, in the unbroken bedroom he’d woken up in for the last year. And yet the images wouldn’t stop. Memories he couldn’t remember.

None of it would stop.

“ Let’s go play !”

No. No, no, no, no, no. What was that!? He couldn’t stop hearing it! Couldn’t stop seeing it. It hurt. Everything hurts. Everything itches—

Hot bile burned at the back of his throat. The pressure of it had him choking and gagging — he couldn’t breathe. Couldn’t call for help either. His nails tore into the meat of his neck, as if he was trying to rip himself a trach tube. His vision started to blur — from tears, from panic, from lack of oxygen — it didn’t even matter anymore. He couldn’t see, he couldn’t feel, he couldn’t hear anything outside of the ringing echoes of his nightmare. And the desperate cries in his head.

Make it stop! Make it stop! Make it—!

Something cold and wet suddenly pressed into his chin, causing his entire body to go rigid. A quiet, concerned puppy whine somehow cut through all the noise in his head.

Disoriented, his gaze dropped heavily to the source.

Mon-chan. She was standing in his lap, paw pressed into his chest and staring up at him with clear, explicit worry.

“M-Mo—”

She immediately started to lick at him, bouncy and excited in a way only a puppy could be. 

And finally he could breathe, he could feel, he could think. He was present. Emotions flooded his body, an overwhelming wave that he’d never been able to process before. The tears started to flow.

With trembling arms, he pulled Mon-chan tight into his chest — urging the puppy to become even more wiggly without trying to escape his hold. 

“Mon-chan,” he sobbed into her fur, “Mon-chan…”

He didn’t notice Kurogiri standing just outside his room, looking through the cracked door in shock.

Nightmares like this were by no means unusual. In fact, one of his main duties as a caretaker was to come and force young Tomura Shigaraki to calm down and tend to his wounds whenever an outburst like this occurred. He’d walked in on the child in some pretty shocking and desperate states before. But he’d never seen this, never seen the boy calm himself down or self-soothe.

Had never seen him heal.

Kurogiri closed the door carefully and turned back to the boy’s Guardian, waiting patiently but critically for answers.

“The dog is helping him.” Kurogiri explained.

His employer shook his head, less than impressed, “He’s becoming dependent on it.”

“Consider the state you found him in, Sir. He’s been through so much at such a young age,” Kurogiri reasoned with him, “His feelings must be overwhelming.”

“That’s what concerns me. He’s unstable, driven completely by emotion and impulse. There’s a drive there that I know can be molded into greatness, but right now it also leaves him vulnerable to sentiment. To weakness.”

“He’ll learn the balance,” Kurogiri assured, “You’ll teach him.”

His boss smirked.

“Yes, I will.”

She scowled as she peeled the wadded gum wrapper off of her knee. She couldn’t help but wonder where the fuck it even came from, because given the energy drink she could still taste secondhand on her tongue, Shigaraki certainly wasn’t chewing gum before she came over.

“Didn’t Kurogiri just change these? How is your bed already this gross?”

“Uh-huh.”

She glared back at him. The guy wasn’t even listening to her — just laying back with an arm folded behind his head, scrolling on his phone without a care in the world.

He glanced up from his phone, seeming to have felt the weight of her stare.

“ What? ”

“You need to clean your room.”

“Why?” The disinterest was practically dripping off of him as he returned his focus to scrolling on his phone.

“What do you mean ‘why’? Aren’t you even a little embarrassed to have a girl in this biohazard?”

Shigaraki snorted, “It’s not like you’re gonna stop coming over if I don’t.”

Well, he was unfortunately right about that. After all, he was making damn sure of it.

A weird pang filled her chest, one she wanted to just write off as annoyance. But she knew that wasn’t it. He’d said it so cavalierly, like not only did he not have to worry about her leaving, but he didn’t care.

She’d very recently come to terms with the fact that she felt a certain comfort in this room, messy as it was. That she held a weird little place in Tomura Shigaraki’s life. So, it hurt a little that, at the end of the day, her opinion didn’t actually matter. 

That the place he saw her in was still just as a purchased little prop on his shelf.

Well, whatever. That was probably for the best, anyway.

She sighed and pushed herself off the bed to start collecting the clothes that had been so urgently thrown to the floor by Shigaraki.

Carmine eyes flickered over at the rustling sounds. Discreet at first so that she wouldn’t notice him giving her a second look. But once he saw that her back was to him, he lingered.

He watched as she pulled her panties up over her hips and then bent down again to step into her little running shorts. He knew that she obviously wasn’t trying to put on a show. But fuck, if it wasn’t still getting to him. 

As much as he brought up how much of a try-hard and a fake people-pleaser he thought she was, the truth was that she didn’t have to try at all to look sexy. The soft skin, the solid layer of tone and muscle that hugged her figure. The confidence she held herself with — it was the kind that only came from actual athleticism and treating her body like a temple.

The kind that was totally out of his league.

“Hey.”

Bra hooked, she looked back at him curiously.

“There’s something for you on my desk.”

She cocked a brow, beyond suspicious, before walking over to his desk. She wasn’t sure what to she was looking for at first — completely expecting to find some weird sex toy or another. 

But then she saw a little Todai Law booklet, shiny and crisp. Like it was fresh off the recruitment desk. She picked it up, turning it back and forth in her hand, curiously. She looked back to Shigaraki for an explanation.

“It’s the class list for this next semester,” he said, trying very hard to look uninterested in her reaction, “From the Law School.”

She immediately lit up, turning back to the booklet with genuine excitement, “Oh, cool!”

The corner of Shigaraki’s lips twitched up as he watched her. She looked happy. Genuinely happy. She was looking that way a lot lately. It brought warmth back to his belly. 

Dressing sufficiently interrupted, she made her way to the bed, settling herself back against the pillows so that she could flip through the catalog. 

“Oooh, a cybersecurity law class!” she turned back to him, teasing, “You mean I might actually be able to prosecute you for something?”

He chuckled, sitting up and scooting a little closer to her, “You can try.”

That earned him a playful little elbow to the side. She was quick to move on, angling the booklet towards him as she pointed out different classes and descriptions.

He couldn’t help but notice how… personal this all felt. Sitting in bed together like this — post-sex, half-dressed, and looking through a course catalog together. It was a level of normal intimacy he’d never really thought he’d have, had trained himself not to want. 

It almost felt like they were a couple.

His heart skipped at the thought. There was a jittery weightlessness in his body that he’d only ever associated with nausea and dread, but this was different. He wanted more of it.

Shigaraki decided to test his luck, shifting closer. And a little closer. Until they were shoulder to shoulder, and he was peering over her bedhead to look along the classlist with her.

She didn’t move away.

“Man, they’ve got electives in everything, ” she said incredulously, scanning through the booklet, “Patent Drafting and Prosecution, Entertainment Law – ooh! Merges and Acquisitions…”

Shigaraki smirked next to her, “So, a public defender, huh?”

She shot him a look , “Oh don’t start with me.”

He chuckled, throwing his hands up in mock defense, “I’m not starting anything. It just doesn’t seem like you.”

She cocked a brow challengingly, “Oh, really? And just what does seem like me?” she quickly added, “And don’t say patent law, that’s cheating.”

“I wouldn’t say it anyway,” he waved her off, “It’s too narrow. I think you want something broader. With more options.”

She gestured for him to continue, and he seemed to genuinely think about this for a long moment – as if it was a class question he’d been preparing to face for weeks, but still wanted to be absolutely sure of when he locked in his final answer.

“Corporate Litigation.” He finally answered.

“Defend,” she joked, curious enough to not outright deny it.

Shigaraki rolled his eyes, “You talk this big game about not wanting to cause trouble for anyone, but I’ve seen your other side. You’re a fighter.”

“Have you ever considered that maybe I only fight you ?”

“Absolutely. In fact, I know that you only fight me,” he grinned, “And I’ve seen how much you like it too.”

She was already rearing to argue with him (ignoring the fact that in doing so she was absolutely proving his point), but he was quick to add:

“Plus, I think you want the money.” Her eyes widened in insult, but he was quick to elaborate, “Not enough to be rolling in it or anything. But you want enough money to take care of the people you actually don’t want to inconvenience. Your family.”

He looked back at her, ready for her to refute. But she couldn’t. Not immediately anyway. There was nothing about what he just said that was incorrect— but it also wasn’t anything she wanted to admit either. She felt prickly with discomfort again, that over-exposed feeling. Like Shigaraki had her rib cage cracked wide open on his bed, her internal organs on full display. She couldn’t handle the emotional vivisection.

So she decided to deflect.

Shigaraki sat at the edge of the playground, dragging his finger across the dusty concrete in unrecognizable patterns. He hated recess. Mandatory fun and groups of kids had long lost their appeal to him, leading to boredom at best and loose molars at worst.

Usually, he was able to avoid the playground, spending the pointless hour reading or playing solitaire in his classroom instead. But today, his teacher had insisted that he go outside. Had said that, “If you continue to have this much difficulty making friends – we may need to have a parent-teacher conference”.

It was obvious from the way she said it that it wasn’t meant as a punishment, that she just wanted to help him. But to him, it was a threat. A Parent-Teacher conference equaled his Guardian thinking there was a problem. Problems equaled distractions. Distractions equaled no more Mon-chan. 

God, if that stupid bitch said something that would get his dog taken away, he’d kill her.

“She’s so cute!”

He glanced over to a pair of boys huddled over one of their cellphones just a few feet away. They were boys from his class — Tomohisa and Minoru. They weren’t especially popular or disliked, but they did tend to keep to each other. He could respect that.

Shigaraki turned his gaze back down, ready to tune them out and count the amount of ants that passed him until recess was over.

“What breed is she?”

“A corgi mix!”

He perked up suddenly, unconsciously. And apparently noticeably, as Tomohisa and Minoru turned back to him almost immediately.

Their eyes met and his breath hitched, a garbled noise of alarm slipping out. He looked away instantly, fingers climbing up his throat. This was stupid, so stupid, so stupid so—

“Do you like dogs, Tomura-kun?”

He looked back at the boys in surprise, a feeling that was only heightened by the way they smiled at him. Like they were genuinely interested in his answer.

“Y-Yeah,” he breathed, “I… I have one…”

“Oh yeah? What kind?”

He reached down to the phone in his pocket shakily, “C-Corgi… too…”

Minoru smiled wide, shuffling closer to him, “Woah, no kidding! Do you have a picture?”

Tomohisa was close behind him, both boys now hovering over Shigaraki as he pulled up a photo he took of Mon-chan splooting across his bedroom floor.

“Oh, that’s like a pure-bred corgi!”

“So cute!”

Shigaraki couldn’t help the proud little smile that twitched across his face, “Her name is Mon-chan.” 

Minoru tilted his head, “Her eyes look kind of weird though…”

He rubbed at his neck anxiously, “Th-that’s ‘cause she’s blind.”

“No kidding!” Tomohisa awed, surprisingly impressed, “That must be tough to train.”

“I-It’s not too bad. My—” Shigaraki paused, trying and failing to find the right word for his Guardian, “...We got a good trainer…”

“Hey, we should get our dogs together!” Minoru suddenly announced, “My mom said that since Haru is a puppy, it’s really important for him to meet lots of other dogs.”

Shigaraki could feel his heart practically lurch out of his chest, “R-Really…?”

Minoru nodded excitedly, “Yeah! Tomo was already gonna bring his dog over next weekend. You should bring yours too! Then we can all play!”

“Only if you want to, of course!” Tomohisa nodded.

“O-Okay… Yeah. Sounds… Sounds fun!”

“…So, why Computer Science?”

Shigaraki, surprisingly, let her obvious deflection slide. 

He shrugged, “I’m good with computers.”

“Enlightening,” she deadpanned.

“What answer did you expect?” he asked, amused.

“I don’t know,” she sighed, “I guess I just would have thought you’d be a business major, considering the position you’re being groomed for.”

“Well, it’s a telecommunications company, so it’s not like it’s completely irrelevant,” he said, “I thought having that knowledge would give me a fresh perspective when I take over.”

She looked at him, surprised, “Wait, do you actually want to inherit it?”

He shot her a weird look, “Of course I do. What made you think I didn’t?”

“I don’t know,” she rubbed the back of her head sheepishly, “I guess the way everyone talks about it, and how uncomfortable you get when it’s brought up... It just seemed like it was never a choice for you.”

Shigaraki hummed a little acknowledgement, a pensiveness shading his features that indicated she wasn’t entirely wrong. But she wasn’t entirely right either.

“No, I’ve always wanted to take over the company. It’s the entire reason I’m here,” he explained, not clocking the growing concern that statement brought to her face, “But I want to do it on my own terms. I don’t want to just be a puppet for the current President and stockholders – I want it to be mine.”

Her brows furrowed as she tried to figure out how to approach this. The situation he was describing didn’t feel right. It sounded to her like All for One had adopted him with only the purpose of naming a successor in mind. And while Shigaraki seemed to be perfectly fine with that, he also… kind of didn’t ?

“And you don’t think your D—” she corrected herself, “You don’t think he wants you to do that?”

His gaze flickered up, thinking. She was asking the hard questions today. And she was genuinely pretty shocked that Shigaraki was letting her.

“Who knows, really?” he finally answered, “He’s just like any other parent or teacher. He wants what’s best for me and has his vision of how to get me there. He’s always been right so far. I don’t think that’s gonna change.”

Eyes lingering on the scars littering his body, remembering the childish, manipulative behavior he often exhibited, not to mention the pigsty of a room they were currently sitting in — she wasn’t so sure.

She was probably playing a little too much with fire, but the nagging in the back of her mind — the one that she would not acknowledge as concern — wouldn’t shut up. Fuck it, she’d already gone this far.

“...are you sure?”

Shigaraki looked at her, surprised, but astonishingly, not mad. If anything, his expression quicklu morphed into something akin to amusement.

He chuckled, rubbing a little at his shoulder. Not out of anxiousness, but more out of habit this time,“To be honest, I don’t really care.”

And then smirked.

“I’ll do what I want.”

“So can I go?”

The Shigarakis were currently sitting across from each other at the dining table — one of the few Saturday mornings that they were actually able to eat breakfast together. The younger Shigaraki had just finished excitedly recounting the weekend dog-training plans he’d made with his new friends-to-be, while his Guardian flipped collectedly through the morning paper.

“Saturdays are study days, Tomura,” he reminded.

“I know…” Shigaraki said sheepishly, “But I’ve gotten top scores all year, and exams just ended. So I thought maybe I could take today off.”

His Guardian seemed to genuinely contemplate this for a moment, causing a swell of hope in Shigaraki’s chest.

“Who are their parents?”

A swell that immediately deflated.

“...Tomo’s Dad owns some family restaurants and Mikkun is on scholarship.”

His Guardian didn’t even try to stifle his laugh, “Oh, Tomura…”

Shigaraki’s shoulders slumped as Kurogiri approached him with a carafe of freshly squeezed orange juice — offering a refill to the boy like it was supposed to make up for the imminent rejection. He wanted to punch the thing right out of the man’s stupid hands.

“Child, I send you to these schools so you can make powerful allies, not to waste your time with the bottom feeders that managed to slip into the ranks,” he explained, “Why not make some plans with the Todorokis? They have a few kids around your age at that school.”

“I don’t like the Todorokis…” he muttered, crossing his arms.

“And you think I do?” he laughed, “Liking someone has little relevance to making friends.”

“...so then—?”

“The answer is no, Tomura.”

Shigaraki pouted, “But I wanna go…”

His Guardian simply flipped to the next page of his paper, ignoring the soft whine of his ward. He had clearly moved on from the conversation and fully expected Shigaraki to as well.

But he didn’t.

Rage roared to a boil in his chest. He shot up suddenly, knocking his chair back and slamming his little fists on the dining table hard enough to rattle the flatware and spook Mon-chan at his feet. 

“It’s not FAIR!” 

He could vaguely recognize the presence of Kurogiri rushing to pick the chair up behind him with a whispered plea of, “Tomura Shigaraki!” But he heard none of it.

“You said I could have whatever I want!” he screamed, “Well I want THIS!”

Clock calm and completely unphased by the outburst, his Guardian reminded, “And do you remember what else I said?”

Shigaraki froze.

“Your priorities as my successor. You can never lose sight of them, never let childish attachments distract you from your purpose.” 

He folded down his paper, directing an icy stare that bore straight into his ward’s core.

“Is the mongrel distracting you, Tomura?”

A hand cupped gently over Shigaraki’s taut shoulder. He snapped up to Kurogiri who looked down at him sympathetically. He nodded down to the boy’s feet, reminding him of Mon-chan sitting patient and concerned at Shigaraki’s ankles. A silent counsel to remember what was important. To remember himself.

The boy slumped back into his chair, head bowed. “No, Sir.”

His Guardian smiled “kindly” and stood, “I didn’t think so.”

Shigaraki kept his head down as his Guardian made his way around the table.

“Kurogiri, bring the car around.”

He accepted the fatherly ruffle to his mop of hair graciously, just staring down at Mon-chan and trying to focus on the bite of his nails into his palm, rather than the burning behind his eyes.

“Work hard today, Tomura.”

“Yes, Sir.”

He counted the seconds until the front door slammed shut, until he was all alone in this vast, frigid apartment. Again.

Shigaraki let out a breath he didn’t even know he was holding, sliding off the chair to crumple into Mon-chan. There were times like these where he wondered if he was truly better off here. If things would have been better for him if he had just stayed—

He shook the thought out of his head, guilt panging hard through his body. What was he thinking? Of course this was better. That man had saved him, had been the only one that bothered, and he was just doing what he thought was right. This was all for him, all for the best.

The buzz of Shigaraki’s phone cut through the deafening silence. He pulled it from his pocket to check.

Mikkun

— New Message —

[Hey! Do you need a ride today?]

Shigaraki’s brows furrowed. He really wanted to go. And not just that, but Tomo-kun and Mikkun wanted him to go too. They were offering him the chance to be their friend. But what if this was his only chance? What if the time away got them rethinking, if his flaking made them realize that he was too weird and not worth the trouble? 

He looked back towards the genkan — empty. And it would remain empty for hours on end. He looked down to Mon-chan, licking at the pink crescents in his palm excitedly.

They were alone. They’d be alone for a long time.

And Tomura Shigaraki didn’t want to be alone any more.

Mikkun

[Hey! Do you need a ride today?]

[That’d be great!]

[Thanks!]

Shigaraki smiled. He knew the material he was supposed to study today frontwards and backwards. He’d just make sure to do some extra studying under his covers tonight. As long as his grades stayed the same, his Guardian would never know.

And what he didn’t know, wouldn’t hurt him.

She dropped her head back with a long sigh, the jets of Shigaraki’s jacuzzi tub making her limbs warm and puddy-like. This steam-filled room was just like the pool — quiet, embracing, and peaceful. All the stresses of the world were a thousand miles away from here — in a place without oscillating footwell massage jets.

“I’ll do what I want.”

Her eyes fluttered open, staring at the bubbles foaming and popping across the water’s surface. She wished she could feel that same lightness, rather than the impossible heaviness growing in her chest.

What was she doing with her life?

It seemed like a silly question for a high school senior to be asking herself, but she just couldn’t shake it as the most recent conversation with Shigaraki echoed in her head.

“I’ve always wanted to take over the company… But I want to do it on my own terms.”

Shigaraki did whatever he wanted, made his own choices. He had the weight of a multi-billion conglomerate stacked on his shoulders, piled high on-top of a clear surplus of childhood baggage she had no idea about, and a really weird (and if she was being honest, bad ) foster father raising him — yet he was still living his life for himself.

And what was she doing?

Cleaning herself off to go on a date with a boyfriend she didn’t love, in order to maintain a friend group she didn’t fit in with, and create a life she didn’t even want. 

Fuck, the only reason she was even in this bathroom was because she’d gotten involved with a guy she’d never even wanted to talk to, strong-armed into a deal to maintain someone else’s dream. He’d have never let himself get into that situation. In fact he hadn’t — it wasn’t even theoretical. He’d walked away and shut his bedroom door on her the day her Dad and All for One had left them alone together.

She couldn’t help but laugh at the thought. Holy shit, was she actually wishing that she was more like Tomura Shigaraki?

The bubbles around her started to slow and still — the jets timing out — the sanctuary fading away with them. She slid down deeper into the tub until she was completely submerged, a last ditch effort to keep the rest of the world away.

To stay in the pool.

But the damage was done, the floodgates had opened. She was thinking now, she was wanting. Wanting to be selfish. Wanting to be strong.

Wanting to do whatever she wanted, too.

Her mind was made up, then and there. It didn’t matter how scary the consequences were, she needed to change.

She was going to break up with Mirio today.

Hanging out with Mikkun and Tomo-kun had been amazing — the most fun he’d had in, well… The most fun he could ever remember having, honestly.

Mon-chan had gotten along amazingly with the other dogs, romping and playing in a way he’d never seen before. She even responded to commands better, the encouragement of other dogs’ smells and sounds seeming to fill in the gaps in training that he hadn’t quite figured out due to her blindness. He definitely needed to bring her around other dogs more often. And amazingly, Mikkun and Tomo-kun wanted him to as well. 

Not even an hour into their day, as they sat eating orange slices on the engawa of Mikkun’s humble little house in Asakusa, watching the dogs chase each other around the yard — Tomo-kun had already started talking about meeting up again next weekend. At his place next time, or maybe even the dog park or the beach.

Mikkun had even suggested they all get together without the dogs, asking Tomura if he wanted to go to the arcade with them after school this week, since he liked games so much. And when he’d dejectedly told them that he had to study after school, the boy had insisted:

“That’s okay! Maybe we can study together then!”

Shigaraki’s eyes widened.

Tomo-kun smirked at him, “Oh yeah, you could use the help in math.”

“Sh-Shut up!”

He couldn’t believe it. Tomo-kun and Mikkun… it didn’t matter if they had the dogs or they were playing, they just wanted to hang out with him. Wanted to be his friends! Shigaraki struggled to swallow the lump in his throat, to keep the happy burn in his eyes from bursting. He needed to keep it together, couldn’t let them think he was weird. But maybe they would’ve been fine with it too.

After all, they were his new friends.

The best part of it all, was that the apartment was completely empty when he returned. Dark and undisturbed — and it had obviously been that way all day. Shigaraki had done it, he’d gotten away with it all scot-free.

Or so he thought.

Until he returned from school a few days later.

“I’m home!”

Shigaraki was about halfway through untying his shoes when he paused. He turned to look back over his shoulder, confused as to why Mon-chan hadn’t come to greet him yet. It had never been a requirement in this house to announce his arrival — it was a practice he’d picked up after bringing home the hearing-reliant puppy. And it had never been more than a few seconds before he heard the excited clicks and clacks of her nails against the floor.

Maybe she was napping?

“I said I’m home!” he called out again.

Silence. 

No barks, no pawsteps, no collar jingles — nothing.

“M-Mon-chan?”

He finally heard something then — but not at all what he wanted. It was the prudent taps of leather soles growing closer. And then Kurogiri’s voice.

“Welcome home.”

His eyes widened — there was something in Kurogiri’s voice, something truly awful. Pity, sorrow, caution, all of it and none of it — something more. Shigaraki stood and turned to look at him.

“Kurogiri…” he breathed, “Where’s Mon-chan?”

And the expression he wore was so much worse. 

“Listen, Tomura Shigaraki—”

It was obvious that Kurogiri was trying to prepare him for something, to soften the blow, but Shigaraki heard none of it. He was already sprinting past him, one shoe still untied on his foot.

He’d never run so fast in his life — not from bullies, not from his father — never. He slipped twice across the, as-always, waxed and pristine marble. He scrambled up the steps two at a time. He felt sicker the closer he got to his bedroom. His skin itched so bad it burned. It couldn’t be. There was no way.

Shigaraki flung his bedroom door open, desperate to see Mon-chan asleep in his bed. 

But the room was empty. 

Not only was there no Mon-chan — there was no sign that Mon-chan had ever been there. Her bed was gone. All of her little toys and blankets, the dog training books he’d had on his desk — nowhere to be seen. The room looked like it had even been thoroughly vacuumed to remove any dog hair.

Everything was gone.

He couldn’t hear. He couldn’t breathe. He couldn’t feel the chunks of skin his fingers were already tearing out of his neck. This was every nightmare he hadn’t had in the last couple of months crashing down on him all at once — but Mon-chan wasn’t here to get him through it this time.

A strong hand pressed firm and doting onto his head.

“You knew what would happen, Tomura.”

Shigaraki threw himself at his Guardian’s legs, bloody fingers clinging and pulling desperately at his slacks.

“I’m sorry!” he cried, thrashing little fists against the steel of his knees, “I’m so, so sorry! I’ll never get distracted again, I PROMISE! So please, get her back! Call the pound and GET HER BACK!”

His Guardian looked down on him, filled to the brim with condolence and condescension, “Oh, Tomura…”

He knelt down to Shigaraki’s height, wiping a coat of tears from his cheek.

“She isn’t at the pound.”

The world around him came to a stop, frozen by a horrible realization. He went numb, his very soul ached. He was going to be sick, he’d never been more empty. He felt nothing, he felt everything. He was splitting apart. 

And so, overwhelmed, all he could do was drop to his knees and cry.

His Guardian clicked his tongue pityingly at him, cooing, “You poor thing,” before pulling his ward into his chest. 

Shigaraki not only didn’t resist, he latched onto him, burying his gurgled, gasping sobs into the minimal comfort of his lapel. 

“Shhh, shhh, shhh, Tomura. It’s alright…” he patted the boy’s back, “You’ll be okay. I’m here.”

His sobs ebbed ever so slightly at the gesture. More than enough for his Guardian to take the opportunity to impart a sobering lesson.

“Yes, you made a mistake, but it’s not the end of the world. Take this as a learning experience,” he said, “You are destined for great things, Tomura. So don’t waste your time with frivolous sentiment or attachments.”

“B-But… Then I’ll be all alone…” Shigaraki rasped into his chest.

“No Tomura, not at all!” his Guardian insisted, far too enthusiastically, “You can have as many friends and playthings as you want! The world and the people in it, they’re all yours to use or discard as you wish — so long as you don’t conflate their happiness with importance. If you learn to prioritize your desires over all others, then nothing will hold you back.”

Shigaraki looked up at him, vision so blurred by his own tears that he couldn’t see his expression, couldn’t process the joy and conceit in his Guardian’s “comforting” smile.

“Take and care only for yourself. The rest is beneath you.”

Shigaraki blinked, staring up at the ceiling, disoriented. It took him a moment to remember where he was, what he was doing. He was naked, save for the warm sheets twisting impossibly convoluted around his hips, with his cellphone in hand, still open on the textbox of a Reddit post he’d gotten halfway through commenting on.

He sat up, rubbing the strain from his eye, his hand bumping the cool, coated pages of a Todai Law pamphlet on the pillow. That’s right. They’d been looking at Law classes together. She’d gone to wash up and he had intended to get up and get dressed, but he must’ve dozed off—

His eyes widened suddenly at the realization. He’d fallen asleep, and he’d woken up, with nothing in between. No memories, no dreams, nothing. Just sleep.

Her school bag was still hanging off the back of his desk chair, and he could vaguely hear the hum of the bathroom fan across the hall, so he couldn’t have been out for very long, but still.

A warmth — that warmth swelled in his chest again, stronger and wider than he’d ever felt it before. Enough to heat his cheeks and bring a soft smile to his lips. He felt calm. She made him feel calm.

A buzz from the nightstand pulled his attention. She’d left her phone.

He didn’t mean to look—didn’t even think about it actually. It was automatic. But once he did look, he couldn’t look away. Not when he saw what name had appeared on the screen.

Mirio Togata ❤

Shigaraki went cold, a frigid, stabbing dread shooting all through his body. He couldn’t hear. He couldn’t breathe. He was going to be sick. There was an itch that seeped down to his bones.

He didn’t want to read it, but he couldn’t stop himself from picking the phone up off his nightstand and pulling down the push notification.

Mirio Togata ❤

— New Message —

[Can’t wait for our date today! ( ˘ ³˘)♥ ]

Chapter Text

It was a well-known fact among his peers that Tomura Shigaraki hated just about everything.

He hated this city. He hated his school. He hated the other students that had seen his freshman representative address and last name and immediately tried to buddy up with him. He hated even more how quickly they gave up on him.

He hated the way people looked at him, with disgust and warriness. Like he was the scum of the earth. He hated when people didn’t look at him.

Like he wasn’t worth their time.

He hated himself. Hated the scars and scabs that permanently gnarled his skin and how, most days, he couldn’t clearly remember how they got there. He hated the nightmares that often kept him awake for days at a time. That no amount of prazosin and antidepressants could get rid of.

He hated the path that was currently laid out for him and hated even more how much he still wanted to follow it.

To follow him .

He hated the Doctor. He hated Kurogiri. He tolerated Iguchi. He really hated Dabi.

And he hated Mirio. More and more he was realizing how much he hated Mirio Togata. It used to be the standard baseline of hatred he held for all of the beautiful, popular people that dared to live their lives without a care in the world. But that hatred now was starting to become painfully personal.

She made it personal.

At one point he’d hated her like that too. More so even. At least the Mirios of the world were stupid enough to just genuinely be that happy and optimistic, to have that much faith in the goodness of the world.

But he’d seen her truth. He’d seen the genuine exhaustion and misanthropy in her eyes when she thought nobody was looking. He’d seen the cynical kindred spirit within her. And then he’d seen her ditzy, popular girl mask pulled back on tight as soon as someone else looked her way. And suddenly he hated her more than anyone. Not only was she a self-righteous little high school hero, but she was a fake one. A stuck-up bitch that no doubt thought she was better than him because she actually managed to keep her bitterness with the world under wraps — could shove it under the rug as quickly and easily as it took her to reapply her lip gloss.

She’d only proven him right the day she knocked on his bedroom door. Her disgust with him had been palpable. She didn’t even try to hide it the second she was alone with him. He hadn’t been worthy of that same mask that the adults had been, not anywhere close. She was looking down on him the way she and her gossipy little clique always had.

And he wanted to destroy her for that.

Then she turned out to be a virgin. And it made everything a thousand times better. Not only did he get to conquer a paragon of everything he hated — and of everything that hated him — but he got to completely and utterly ruin her. For the rest of her wonderful, fake little life, she would have to look back and remember him as her first. She’d never be able to pretend anything was perfect again. He would always be that dark, undeniable stain in her life. And at the very least, from herself, she’d never be able to hide that hatred again. He couldn’t have bought a better personal revenge.

…

But then she’d held him.

Came for him.

Asked him for help.

She had reached for him. Clung to his sleeve and silently begged him not to leave. Grabbed his hand and pulled him to an oasis. Taught him. Trusted him.

And even smiled at him.

Being on the receiving end of that had felt better than he could’ve ever imagined. He didn’t know when it happened, but all of a sudden, Shigaraki was acutely aware that when it came to her, he wasn’t feeling hatred anymore. Nothing close to it. He couldn’t put a name to the feeling, not as he was feeling it anyway.

In retrospect, he would come to recognize that feeling as stupidity.

Mirio Togata ❤

— New Message —

[Can’t wait for our date today! ( ˘ ³˘)♥ ]

Shigaraki stared down at the text, unblinking. His fingers were starting to cramp, his entire hand trembling from the tightness of his grip. He couldn’t even think, his head flooded with a combination of white-hot rage and an ache that he refused to dignify with a name. The longer he stared at this phone, the more he wished that he could just turn it to dust between his fingers.

He barely registered the door opening when he threw the thing across the room.

“Hey, so I was thinking about that internship program—”

She jumped back with a yelp as her phone suddenly hit the wall next to her with a loud crack. He hadn’t thrown it at her specifically – it didn’t really even come close. But she still hadn’t expected to be anywhere in the same vicinity of an indoor fastball pitch like that. She looked down at the projectile laying spider-webbed on the floor and immediately snapped back to Shigaraki when she realized what it was.

“Was that my phone—?!”

“I TOLD YOU TO DUMP HIM!”

Her brows furrowed, baffled. Then she looked back to her cracked phone on the floor.

“What’re you—?”

Realization struck her suddenly. Ohh, shit. Mirio must’ve texted her.

She looked back at Shigaraki, taking in the gravity of the situation. His eyes were blown wide, shoulders trembling, nails scratching his neck raw. She’d never seen him this angry before. She wasn’t sure if she’d seen anyone this angry before. She tried to think of how to explain—

Wait. Explain what? This isn’t something she’d been hiding from him, and even if she had been — what did it matter?! She didn’t owe him shit. If anything, she should be angry. He was the one who’d snooped and played a round of wall ball with her phone.

“Well?!”

“Well, what ?”

“Why is that fucker still texting you?!”

She pulled a face, reminding him of the obvious, “Because he’s my boyfriend .”

His eyes blew even wider, genuinely shocked by this revelation and the cavalier tone that accompanied it.

The shock was short-lived though, very quickly morphing into near-hysteria, “I told you to break up with him almost two months ago!”

“Yeah, and if you remember correctly, I said no.”

“It wasn’t a request!” he shouted, voice on the verge of cracking.

“I don’t care!” she threw right back, “And for that matter, why do you care?!”

“ Because you’ve been cheating on me!”

They both froze as soon as he said it — a heavy horrible silence falling over the room.

“...what?”

Fuck.

Why did he say that? He didn’t even mean to— shit, why did he say that?!

Shigaraki tore his gaze away from her with a growl. He immediately busied himself, ripping off the sheets tangled around his body, rifling through piles of clean enough clothes to pull on — anything he could do to ignore her and pretend that the last ten seconds didn’t just happen.

But it wasn’t that easy. It was never that easy.

“Shigaraki…” she breathed, warily — as if he was a feral animal she was trying to approach.

No, he wasn’t listening, wouldn’t hear any of it. Those sweats looked clean enough. Shit, even if they weren’t, it didn’t matter. He needed to cover himself, needed to do something to not feel so exposed.

“...we’re not dating.”

It didn’t work.

“Like, you know that… right?”

He hazarded a look back at her and fuck. Fuck! Fuck! FUCK— she was looking at him like he was crazy — no. Worse. Like he was pathetic. Like he was one of the, no doubt, dozens of other losers she’d turned down love confessions from over the years.

She was pitying him.

No. No, she wasn’t allowed to look at him like that. He couldn’t let her know that it was a slip up. If he tried to explain himself or handwave it away, it’d read even more like a Freudian slip. And then that look would never go away.

He had to double down.

“...You belong to me.”

Her eyes widened, “ Excuse me ?”

“You heard me. We had an agreement,” he growled, stalking towards her, “Call it whatever you want — dating, not dating, I don’t care…”

She couldn’t back up far before her back hit the wall. Shigaraki caged her between his arms, lowering his face so close that they were practically sharing breaths.

“...You’re my personal slut and you need to do what I say.”

…

Oh hell no.

The pity in her eyes vanished in an instant. The kid gloves were off. Claws and fury took their place.

She shoved his chest hard, so unexpectedly that it cleared some actual distance between them.

“Are you kidding me right now?!”

She shoved him again.

“Is that what you think is still going on here?!”

And again.

“You asshole !”

Until he was stumbling back over his gaming chair, grabbing onto his desk to keep from falling to the floor.

“Take it back. Or I’m out of here.”

Honestly, he was so shocked by the retaliation that an apology had actually slipped to the tip of his tongue.

But then he noticed her outfit.

She'd apparently gotten dressed and dolled in the bathroom, the gym shorts and t-shirt she’d left his room in replaced by a short frilly skirt with soft, dotted tights, a pastel pink cashmere sweater, and a face full of makeup. 

Soft and girly, cute but subtle — like she was a page ripped out of a winter issue fashion magazine. Dressed for a date. She’d never dressed like that for him.

And it pissed him off all over again.

“Take it back, huh?”

She hesitated, confidence ebbing at the menacing snarl in his voice.

“You’re really that desperate for everyone’s approval, aren’t you?” he spat, eyes narrowing in disgust, “ Fuck, you’re pathetic.”

She froze, a sudden, horrible pain hollowing through her like she’d just been shot in the chest.

Shigaraki rose back up to face her head on, to command:

“Break up with your boyfriend, or your Dad’s fired.”

She stared at him, that hole inside her burning wider and wider. It swallowed every thought and word, everything except for raw emotion — leaving her at a complete loss.

This feeling in her chest was completely unlike the stirring and dread she’d felt the first time Shigaraki had made those threats. This was different. This ached.

Shigaraki smirked — reading this as a checkmate. He reached forward to run his fingers through her hair, more than ready to welcome her back into his arms and pretend that none of this ever happened.

But she smacked his hand away.

She thought she was ready for a fight, that she was always ready for a fight with Tomura Shigaraki. But for some reason, once she heard those words, the fire in her went out. She was exhausted. She was gutted.

She couldn’t do this anymore.

“You know what…” she breathed.

She reached down past Shigaraki to grab her bag and turned towards the door.

“...fine.”

She picked up her phone on the way out.

“Just do it already.”

Shigaraki’s eyes widened.

“I’m done.”

And she walked out.

Shigaraki stared after her, completely shell-shocked. It wasn’t until he heard the front door downstairs slam shut that he remembered how to move. He booked it, chasing her path out the hall, down the stairs — almost falling into the alcove of the engawa to drag her back. But by then it was too late.

She was long gone.

Fuck.

Why did she do that? WHY did she do that?!?!

She had fucked up. Like, royally fucked up. She just told Tomura Shigaraki — a guy who had clearly proven to her the first time they met that he followed through with his threats — to fire her Dad.

Her arm was starting to shake from how hard she was white-knuckling the train stanchion. She hadn’t stopped for a second once her feet got moving out of Shigaraki’s room. She’d walked and she’d walked until she was on the train en-route to Shibuya station, she couldn’t stop. If she stopped walking, she’d start thinking. And if she started thinking…

Well, she’d get to thinking about this.

She groaned, dropping her head against her fist. The train had been a mistake. She couldn’t pace in a crowded train. Maybe she should’ve just walked the whole way to Shibuya.

It wasn’t just that she was scared. She was hurt. Reluctant as she was to admit it, Shigaraki and her had really built something recently. She wouldn’t call it a friendship exactly, but she thought that there was at least some mutual respect there. That he’d considered her to be more than the dumb, stuck-up popular girl he’d first pegged her as. More than what everybody else wanted and expected from her. 

More than what she was

But no. In reality, he’d been the one in her life to think the absolute lowest of her. And what made it worse, was that he’d actually gotten to know her like nobody else had. He’d seen the real her, and in the end, all he thought she was good for was sex. To be another shiny little toy, hoarded and forgotten in his mess of a room.

Do what you want, huh? That’s what he’d always told her? What a load of crap.

Maybe she’d had it all right before.

“Honey?”

She blinked, startled to see Mirio standing in front of her, concerned. Even more startled to see that she was, in fact, not on the train anymore, but smack in the middle of Hachiko Square — their agreed meeting spot in Shibuya Station.

Wait, when had she gotten off the train?

“H-Hey!” she chirped, shoving the distress and confusion back, and the big smile and peppy voice up with an overeagerness that was unnatural even for her, “You look so handsome!”

Mirio’s brows furrowed, “Thanks…”

But she didn’t notice it, too quick and desperate to distract herself. She grabbed his hand and started to pull him “excitedly”, “You ready to go?!”

“Wait, babe—”

Her arm locked and she stumbled back towards Mirio, like she’d tried to pull a tree trunk down the street.

“Are you okay?”

She smiled even wider, even more frenetic, “Yeah! Why wouldn’t I be?!”

“I don’t know, you just seem…” he paused, not knowing himself how to describe it, “Did something happen this morning?”

Her heart was starting to race, every second she spent deflecting Mirio’s questions and worries, setting her more on edge, making it harder to breathe or to think straight. Her palms were sweating, and before she knew it, she was babbling.

“N-No! Nothing happened! I mean I’ve only been up for like, what? Three hours? What could’ve possibly happened in that amount of time? Why do you ask?! Do I look weird? Istheresomethinginmyhairor—?”

“ Hey !”

She froze, attention commanded by a sternness and concern she’d never heard from him. He gripped her shoulders and looked her in the eyes, not giving her the option to look or pull away.

“Just slow down for a second, okay?”

She nodded shakily, straining to swallow the lump in her throat.

“Talk to me, please,” he squeezed her arms reassuringly.

“I-I don’t know what you want me to say…” she stammered.

“I want you to tell me what’s bothering you!”

Her heart sank. Hard.

…You can tell me. If he bothered you, I mean… If um… If anything’s bothering you.

The hustle and bustle of Shibuya faded away — the honks of horns, the chatter of passersby all smothered by the aching memory of those words. And before she realized it, the tears had started flowing.

Mirio didn’t waste a second, pulling her straight into his chest and wrapping his strong arms around her. She didn’t have the willpower or headspace to be able to push away or overthink it. She just twisted her fingers into his sweater, buried her head into his chest, and sobbed.

“I’ve got two coffees,” the waiter announced as he placed two mugs and a dish of creamers and sugar on the table, “Are we ready for food?”

Mirio looked at his girlfriend, slumped and flushed across the booth. She hadn’t even opened her menu yet, just stared down at the table with her hands folded in her lap and letting out an occasional sniffle.

He smiled politely at the waiter, “I think we still need a couple of minutes.”

“Of course.”

When her cries had subsided enough for Mirio to actually talk to her, he suggested that they raincheck their date and that he take her home so that she could properly recuperate. With a quick look at her burning, puffy face in her phone’s reverse camera, that idea was swiftly rejected. She’d gone almost eight years without her parents discovering that she cried and she wasn’t about to break that record now.

So instead, he’d brought her to a nearby diner — one that wasn’t too crowded but not so empty that they would be clearly overheard. One with high, private booths.

Cheap porcelain slid carefully into her peripheral vision, the strong aroma of fresh coffee easing her out of her trance. She looked up at Mirio, pushing the mug towards her with a comforting smile.

“You take it black, right?”

She looked back down to the mug, at her wobbly reflection in the drink, trying to find the energy to say something — to even think of what to say.

“...yeah,” was all she managed to croak out as she went to take a drink.

Mirio smiled softly, relieved that she was coherent again.

“I always thought that was so cool of you,” Mirio chirped, opening up creamer after creamer, “You like all those adult things like black coffee and dark chocolate and balsamic vinegar…”

She set her mug down, letting her eyes settle on the heavy lacquer of the table. He was trying to be funny and cheer her up, but it only made her feel more cynical and despondent. What was she even supposed to say to that? What was she supposed to say to anything ?

Mirio watched her pull into herself — the tensing of her shoulders, the further dowering of her expression. He’d obviously said the wrong thing. Again. 

There was a gap between them that was only growing wider, one that he wasn’t going to be able to close with jokes and optimism. One that he may not be able to close at all.

He wanted to help her, wanted to get her smiling again. But this was obviously a problem he couldn’t solve, not unless she let him. He needed to let it go.

“Hey… It’s okay.”

She looked up to see Mirio’s usual sunny smile tinged with something somber. Something like regret.

“Whatever it is you’re going through, we don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to. 

“R-Really?” she asked, brows furrowing in surprise.

“Yeah, I shouldn’t have pushed you.”

She frowned, “...And you’re fine with that? Honestly?”

“I mean…” he almost laughed, “No. Not really. Obviously, I want to know why my girlfriend is upset. But if you don’t want to tell me, I’m sure there’s a reason. I trust you.”

The question came out before she could even think it, like a breath she’d been holding in too long — wheezy and involuntary.

“— why ?”

He cocked his head, “What do you mean?”

But once the breath was out there, she couldn’t stop it. All the words that had been weighing on her chest for weeks — no, months — just came tumbling out incoherently.

“Why do you trust me?! What have I ever done to make it seem like I could be trustworthy?! Or like I’d even make a good girlfriend and—” she shook away the babble, the bullshit, finally coming right out and demanding, “Why do you even like me?!”

Mirio stared at her, obviously surprised by the question.

“I-I mean I… I blow you off constantly, I keep secrets, I don’t tell you…” she was quickly losing steam, slumping back into the booth as all she could manage out was, “...j-just why ?”

Somehow, Mirio didn’t look upset. He waited patiently to make sure she was done talking before finally leaning back with a little whistle

“Wow. That’s a pretty loaded question.”

She scowled, not appreciating the light-heartedness in his tone, “I’m serious.”

“I am too,” he smiled, “There are just so many things, I don’t really know where to start.”

Her grip tightened on her coffee mug. She could feel the hollowness of his answers before he even gave them. Not that he would intentionally give her empty words — she was sure that he whole-heartedly meant everything that he was about to say. But that they also undoubtedly would be based on the lies she’d built for him.

Meaningless.

“I mean, you’re really nice and fun and easy to talk to…”

Fake. Fake. Really fake.

“But I think what I like most is how thoughtful you are.”

Her train of cynicism screeched to a stop. She looked back up to Mirio, confused, “Isn’t that just the same thing as nice?”

“No— well, I guess technically. But that’s not what I mean by it,” he explained, “I mean how much you think of others.”

She blinked.

“Fuck you worry way too much about what other people think.”

“You always make sure everyone around you is taken care of and happy — no matter how much it puts you out.”

Her fingers started to shiver against her coffee mug.

“You’re still that desperate for everyone else’s approval, huh?”

“You’re amazing!”

And the lump in her throat only grew bigger.

“ Fuck, you’re pathetic.”

Her chest tightened, looking away from Mirio as his and Shigaraki’s words played tennis within her consciousness. How could the things that Shigaraki so adamantly hated about her, be the things that Mirio loved? Which was correct?

Who the fuck was she?

“You know, a lot of people would say that just makes me fake. Or a doormat.” she muttered.

“Maybe some people think that way, but I don’t.”

She startled as Mirio covered her hand with his.

He beamed, “I think it shows that you have a lot of love to give.”

She could feel a familiar burn behind her eyes. And Mirio’s loving gaze only fueled the flames.

If she was being totally honest with herself, she hadn’t felt truly guilty about what she was doing to Mirio for a while now. Not really. She’d felt it gnawing at her consistently for so long at this point that she’d become numb to it. Because it wasn’t like she was just betraying him when it came to Shigaraki. She’d been betraying his feelings since the day he first told her he loved her. If anything, Shigaraki had been a relief, a lifeline — he’d given her a tangible excuse to break up with Mirio.

Because her feelings had never felt like a good enough reason. Mirio was good and he was stable and her family loved him and maybe she could love him one day — those had been real reasons for her to stay. Ones that far outweighed a stupid gut feeling and a perpetually depleted social battery.

And so, she’d pushed it all down. Learned to live with it like it was a migraine or a bad knee. Irksome with a couple of bad flare-ups, but mostly manageable. Suppressed.

That guilt had been so tightly wrapped and anesthetized for so long. But all of a sudden, now, it was bursting at the seams.

She choked out, “But I’ve hurt you so much,” — in ways you don’t even know — “How can you still want to be with me?!”

Mirio didn’t even flinch. If anything, his smile widened as he squeezed her hand and said with all the confidence in the world:

“Because I love you.”

And he meant it — fuck, did he mean it. The way he stared at her, with that sparkle of adoration and admiration — it reminded her why she had agreed to go out with him in the first place.

Mirio always saw the best qualities in her, even the ones that weren’t there. He made her want to be the type of person that he believed her to be.

More than what she was.

The waiter skipped over to their table, “Do you know what you want?”

Yes. Yes, she did.

Mirio dropped her hand and scrambled for his menu, embarrassed, “Oh man, we haven’t even looked at the menu yet! I’m sorry!”

The waiter laughed, “It’s okay, take your time!”

“Give us two minutes! We can have an answer in two minutes!” he turned back to her, “Right, babe?”

She smiled, “Right.”

Stupid, stupid, stupid — fuck, when had he gotten so stupid? 

He glared at the doorway for – jeez, he couldn’t even remember how long. He didn’t know what was stupider, the fact that he’d given her a glimpse of his feelings, or the fact that he’d let himself feel them in the first place. Even stupider was the fact that he had actually started to pull on his shoes to chase after her before coming to his senses.

“Tomura Shigaraki,” he vaguely heard Kurogiri prod behind him, “He’ll be home soon. You shouldn’t crowd the door.”

Stupid, Stupid, Stupid—

“Tomura—”

“I fucking heard you!” Shigaraki snapped.

He stepped on the heel of his sneaker irritably so he could pull his foot loose, then kicked it off hard against the wall.

“You appear distressed. Can I get you—?”

“Shut up !” Shigaraki barked, storming past him back into the apartment.

She was stupid. Kurogiri was stupid. Everything was fucking stupid.

He was so stupid.

Chapter Text

The calm she’d achieved through her revelation at the diner was very short-lived. As soon as she saw her house on the walk home, her anxiety and dread came back in full force. She didn’t want to go inside. She knew what was waiting for her there — the same thing that had been waiting for her the last time she’d called Shigaraki’s bluff, if not worse. Honestly, the brutal scolding she’d received from her Dad that day would be the best case scenario.

The worst was that he was already out of a job.

Mirio squeezed her hand, “Hey? Are you sure you’re okay now?”

She looked up at him. He wasn’t nearly as concerned as he had been earlier — didn’t have the reason to be— but he could obviously tell that everything wasn’t quite back to normal yet.

Should she tell him? She should, right? She didn’t even need to give the full details, just something like “I’m worried my Dad’s going to lose his job”. If she was really going to try to invest herself in this relationship again, she should be confiding that stuff in him.

She squeezed his hand back and smiled, “Yeah. Just kind of emotionally drained, you know?”

Baby steps. There was no need to worry him unnecessarily. She’d confide in him about this when there was actually something to confide about. She wasn’t lying at least, she really was overwhelmed.

“Of course,” he brushed her hair back over her ear, hand lingering to hold her cheek. She stared up at him, captured for a moment by the way he looked at her. The love in his eyes. She knew that whoever could reciprocate that one day would be one lucky person.

He leaned down and pressed his lips sweetly to her own. They were full and gentle, warm and still subtly sweet from the slice of cheesecake they’d shared at the diner. Free of roughness and scarring, undemanding, and not a hint of energy drink on them.

Mirio pulled away just a little bit, the tip of his nose still brushing her own, “Is there anything I can do to help?”

“More than that?” she grinned, “I don’t think so.”

He chuckled and leaned down to kiss her again, this one just as sweet as the last.

They didn’t linger much longer than that. Mirio Togata was a gentleman that would never think of copping a feel or even slipping her a little tongue in her parents’ driveway. Instead, he stood fast on the sidewalk and waved her off, not turning to leave until she was closing the front door behind her. She had no reason to complain, he was just being a good boyfriend and making sure she got home safe. But it did make it impossible to let her guard down and brace herself before she was actually in the lion’s den.

So, she didn’t announce when she was home — easing the door open and closed and slipping off her shoes as quietly as possible. She glued herself to the wall of the engawa, listening for any hint to her family’s fate. Crying, yelling, hopeless silence. She was not expecting:

“Three sixes.”

“Bluff!”

“...you sure about that?”

“YOU’RE KIDDING ME!!”

She walked into the living room to see the scene for herself, moved forward by confusion alone. Confusion that only skyrocketed when she saw her family at the dining table, her little brother grumpily pulling a center pile of cards into his hand.

“You know, it’s wrong to lie to your kids!” her brother whined.

“But it’s so fun though,” her Dad laughed, bopping him on the nose with his own two-carded hand.

“Hey sweetie,” her Mom greeted her, “Have a nice date?”

“Y-Yeah…” she answered cautiously, scanning for any sign of distress from the trio, “Lots of fun.”

“Not too much fun though, right?” her Dad joke-warned, earning a playful swat from her Mom.

“PG Rated fun only, sir,” she ‘joked’.

He shot her a playful salute and laughed, “Come on over, Peanut. I’ll deal you in.”

“I-I’m okay, Dad,” she said, “I should actually try and get some studying in today before it gets too late.”

He smiled at her, “Atta girl. Holler if you need anything.”

She nodded and swung by to give both her parents a kiss on the cheek and her brother a hair ruffle before slipping down the hall. She snuck another inquiring look back at the table as they resumed their game in earnest.

It was obvious that her Dad at least still had a job for now. She knew that she couldn’t get too comfortable though. The other shoe would certainly drop soon.

Then a week went by.

And not a word.

Not from her Dad about his job, not from Shigaraki about “studying” or their fight — nothing. It was actually kind of jarring. Tomura Shigaraki was not a patient guy. She’d honestly expected her phone to be blowing up as soon as she stormed out of his place, but it was just radio silence.

She wondered if he was taking his time just to fuck with her at this point – a new form of punishment. Abandonment play. It wouldn’t be out of character for him by any stretch of the imagination. Maybe he wanted to push and torture her to the point where she came back crawling on her knees, begging for forgiveness.

Well that sure as hell wasn’t happening.

She was not going to be the first to apologize — fuck, she wasn’t going to apologize at all . She had nothing to apologize for! If anything, she should be mad at him for going through her phone and yelling those things at her. She had half a mind to tell him as much.

…Or maybe he just wanted to sweep it under the rug — he’d done it before with serious conversations and unpleasant topics. She’d known him long enough now to know that he absolutely preferred to pretend like nothing happened rather than act like anything was ever wrong in the first place. He didn’t have to take any responsibility that way.

Well, she didn’t want to give him that satisfaction either. So, while she knew she was already pushing her luck by not reaching out to him, she decided to skip their scheduled ‘tutoring’ sessions anyway.

And still, she heard nothing.

That’s when she knew that something was different here.

She didn’t want to say that something was wrong per say. Thinking that would open up a whole can of worms that she didn’t want to touch with a nine-foot pole. A can of thinking about the way Shigaraki often tore at his neck or the obvious lack of sleep he was always running on, the kind that had her wondering how he didn’t just wander into traffic on a daily basis.

A can of worrying about him.

No. She would not go there, no way. Especially when she knew there was a way more realistic explanation for all this. One that would only hurt her more the more she admitted to any kind of care or worry for the guy.

And that was, that maybe he was just done with her.

Shigaraki had finally realized that she wasn’t worth the trouble and attitude she gave him, and had asked All for One to set him up with some other employee’s daughter. After all, it’s not like he’d ever genuinely respected her in the first place. He’d made that very clear. She was replaceable. She was nothing.

She was pathetic.

Her chest ached at the thought. That theory hurt a lot more the longer she lingered on it. A lot more than she had expected. So, she very quickly found herself clinging back to her first suspicion.

That he was toying with her.

Making her doubt herself and actually care about what he thought about her— whether he wanted her or not. Wanting to prove a sick point to her that she missed him. That she was his.

Well fuck him.

Seriously, fuck Tomura Shigaraki. She was going to enjoy hitting him with a bowling ball. Or at least, imagining hitting him with a bowling ball — cerebrally copy-pasting his stupid face onto each of the pins at the end of her lane.

God, and they were all standing with such unwarranted confidence too, despite the fact that they were all scuffed and dented, too awkward and demented to hold any real conversation that didn’t involve video games or calculus — just fucking like him.

She threw the ball with a force that actually loosened her shoulder, watching with razor-sharp focus as it flew down the lane and pummeled the formation completely.

Apparently, manifesting murderous rage was a pretty good bowling strategy.

“Yes!” she pumped her fist and shouted, whipping around to face a very startled Tamaki, “Take that!”

“Th-That’s okay,” he shrunk away instantly, “I don’t want it…”

Crap, he thought that she was trash-talking him.

“Oh, come on Tamaki, don’t give up just like that!” Mirio joked from the seats behind them.

“Yeah, yeah!” Nejire piped in, “Show us that lion heart!”

Tamaki gulped, taking a shaky step forward past his teammate and she immediately felt bad.

Cram school was closed for the week due to an electrical issue with the building. That was her, admittedly, tenuous excuse for why she was suddenly more available this week. She hadn’t wanted to tell a long-term lie like cram school sessions were done for the semester, just in case Shigaraki did call her over. But as the week went on, she was thinking she’d need to make up something new soon.

This excuse had been believable at least. Believable enough for her friends to announce that they wanted to make the most of the week, live life like they did back before they had to worry too much about entrance exams and recruiting, back in the “good old days”.

She’d honestly forgotten these last couple of months just how much she normally packed into her life with her friends. This week outside of her regular school, swim, and personal study blocks had also included a group study session where very little actual studying occurred, renting a karaoke room, going to the batting cages, and now bowling.

“You’re really fired up today,” Mirio patted his girlfriend’s back as she plopped down in the seat next to him, “That’s your third strike in a row!”

“I guess I’m getting a little intense, huh?” she rubbed the back of her neck, looking sympathetically towards Tamaki, who was still trembling, petrified where she left him.

Mirio laughed, “Tamaki will be fine. It’s great to see you having so much fun.”

Her brows furrowed, “Do I usually seem like I’m not having fun?”

Damn had her mask slipped that much lately?

“No, no – that’s not what I meant. I just know how stressed you’ve been with exams and everything. And considering what happened last week—” she tensed at the reminder and he quickly waved off that train of thought, “Well, anyway. I just like seeing you smile is all.”

She tried not to frown when he said it. Because honestly, it was getting harder to keep up that smile by the minute. Now that she was sitting down, no longer fueled by rage, she could feel the weight of exhaustion pinching her shoulders, shortening her fuse by the minute. She’d overclocked her social battery hard . And if she didn’t let that snappiness out on some bowling pins, it’d have nowhere else to go than directly at Mirio – definitively securing her the much-dreaded title of “bitchy”.

And if there was anything that she’d avoided in her carefully-crafted public persona, it was being called (even internally) bitchy.

This was fine. She just needed to calm down, relax. Her friends were obviously relaxed right now, so she could do it too, right? She just needed to run through that Five-Minute Easy Meditation and Positive Affirmations video that her and her mom had started watching every morning last week. To remember the breathing exercises that the nice white lady with all the turquoise had taught them.

Breathe in for three. Hold for three. Breathe out for three. Breathe in for four. Hold for four. And so on. All at a rate steady enough to hide the fact that she was doing breathing exercises. At a rate that made her seem normal.

Mirio launched up suddenly, screaming with waving arms like he was watching a game-saving goal at the World Cup, rather than Tamaki only shaving off one pin from the set, “WOOOO! You go, buddy!”

Aaaaand the breathing exercises weren’t working. Great. Maybe she could just fake a headache and go home early…

No. No, no, no, she’d already promised herself that she wasn’t going to do that. She wasn’t going to lie about this stuff anymore. If she wanted to leave, she needed to just come out and say it.

Of course, that was easier said than done. Watching Mirio throw an arm around Tamaki, laughter and smiles shining like a sun in the sea of dim neon mood lighting, she just couldn’t do it. She couldn’t spoil their fun. Because she didn’t know what was worse, being thought of as bitchy or being thought of as boring.

In reality, she probably could’ve just kept up the cram school lie and used that time to go home, could’ve bought herself some guaranteed peace and quiet. But if she was being honest with herself, that wasn’t a whole lot better than going to Shigaraki’s. Sure, she wouldn’t be fucking anybody, but she’d be making herself just as emotionally unavailable as if she was. And she didn’t want to do that anymore. She wanted to be better this time around.

She wanted to really try.

“Your neck looks like roadkill.”

Shigaraki’s eyes narrowed at Iguchi sitting across from him.

“Yeah, well you look like a lizard,” Shigraki spat, “Anybody ever tell you that?”

“Yes,” Iguchi muttered, taking a bitter bite of his curry, “ Asshole .”

“You started it.”

Iguchi sighed. Even on a normal day, he didn’t like hanging out around campus after class. He’d long been under the impression that Shigaraki was the same way, it was one of the reasons they had built such a camaraderie in the first place. But being in a crowded dining hall with his obviously extra-agitated friend — who’s default setting was already particularly dickish — was not exactly his idea of a good time.

“What are we even doing here? We don’t eat in the dining hall after class. We go home.”

“Then go home.”

“Are you gonna go home?” Iguchi pressed.

Shigaraki didn’t say anything, just looked away and spooned some food into his mouth. He pulled a face almost immediately.

“This tastes like shit.”

Well that answered that.

“What’s your problem?” Iguchi couldn’t help but laugh, “You’re in an even worse mood than usual.”

“I haven’t had sex in over a week,” he muttered.

Ah, so that’s what it was about. Iguchi had a feeling. Although the revelation of this particular plight did very little to garner sympathy for a guy who, not too long ago, was an even more obnoxious virgin than him.

“Wow. A week. You poor thing.” Iguchi deadpanned, completely unimpressed.

“Get bent.”

Iguchi looked Shigaraki up and down as he reached to pick at his already ravaged neck. He’d seen his friend in pretty rough shape before. The day they first met. At the tail ends of seventy-two-hour gaming sessions together. In the aftermath of conversations with his Guardian that had gone very poorly. Drunk (boy was that a fucking sight).

But this was on a whole different level. There was obviously something eating away at him, something much bigger than pent up sexual frustration.

After all, he’d seen that for years. 

When Shigaraki had purposefully swaggered up to him in their usual seats right before lecture one day, announcing loud and proud that he’d lost his virginity, Iguchi had justifiably called bullshit.

But then he’d shown him the pictures. A couple of covert shots of a stupidly hot girl with her bare back to the camera, pulling her school skirt up over a cheeky little pair of white panties. Nothing explicit. But still enough to set Iguchi’s face ablaze and have him emphatically scolding his friend.

“D-Dude, put those away!” Iguchi cried, looking away and shoving the phone back into Shigaraki’s hands, “Does your girlfriend even know you took these?! I doubt she’d want you showing them to people!”

Shigaraki just laughed and plopped down into the seat next to him, scrolling through his progressively raunchier photo roll shamelessly, “Who cares what she wants, she’s not my girlfriend.”

Iguchi’s brows furrowed, “I thought you said you weren’t gonna let the Old Man buy you any hookers.”

“I’m not,” Shigaraki glared at him, “She’s different. We have our own arrangement.”

“And what arrangement is that?”

Iguchi had been… mildly horrified by the explanation Shigaraki then gave him, to say the least. He’d always known that his friend wasn’t the most morally upstanding person — and Iguchi himself was no saint either — but this… this was sounding pretty freaking sketchy.

Well, suffice it to say that Shigaraki had been less than pleased by Iguchi’s lack of enthusiasm for the situation.

“It’s payback.” he spat, “For all those stuck-up little popular school heroes that left a mark on us. I’m making a mark back.”

Iguchi rubbed the back of his neck uncomfortably, “I don’t know, man. Best case scenario, it still feels like someone the Old Man bought you.”

That had really pissed him off.

“N-No! It’s not—” he sputtered, “Fuck, you just don’t get it Spinner!”

“I guess not.” Iguchi grumbled, turning forward as the professor finally entered the lecture hall.

And he let it go after that, writing it off as one of the deep, dark parts of his best friend’s mind that he’d never be able to rationalize or understand. The guy may have had a stupid amount of damage, but he was still irrefutably a net positive in his life.

So, he put up with the disturbed and obnoxiously braggy regalings of the girl Shigaraki had strongarmed into a sexual relationship and how exactly he was going to ruin her for the sake of losers and virgins everywhere — or whatever he’d actually said. It had been so stupid that Iguchi had legitimately blocked it out of his mind.

He’d started to mostly tune it out entirely around the third time he’d said something about “ruining her for other men with his cock”, because who the fuck actually believed that was possible outside of a trashy smut novel?

But then, Iguchi was ashamed to admit, it had actually gotten interesting.

“She’s actually pretty fun.” Shigaraki said over headset, mid Cayo Perico Heist.

“Well yeah, orgasms tend to have that effect.” Iguchi deadpanned between tossing cheeto puffs into his mouth.

“No, I mean, like, to talk to and stuff. She’s pretty funny and definitely smart enough to get into Todai without all that stupid studying she does.”

Iguchi cocked a brow, legitimately surprised to hear Shigaraki talking so positively about a girl he’d more than once referred to as his personal cum dump. 

“Oh, yeah?”

“Yeah! And she’s pretty decent at games too,” Shigaraki continued with a weird amount of enthusiasm, like a kid talking about his new favorite tv show. It was almost endearing.

“She did this stupidly cool Ness string the other day even with my dick in her—”

“Shut up!” Iguchi squawked in embarrassment — immediately scratching that ‘endearing’ thought as Shigaraki cackled over the headset.

The asshole was absolutely reveling in this.

“You’re a menace.” Iguchi muttered, trying desperately to just focus on solving fingerprint puzzles instead of imagining that gorgeous girl from the pictures split open on his weird friend’s—

Shigaraki sighed suddenly. And if Iguchi didn’t know any better, he’d have thought there was genuine yearning in his friend’s voice when he said, “I just wish I could keep her here all the time. It’s so boring when she’s gone.”

He’d noticed a gradual change in Shigaraki after that. The scabs and scratches on his neck were steadily starting to heal, the bags under his eyes were disappearing too. The stories he told became less about the latest position he’d put his not-girlfriend into, and more about the great rhythm game she’d convinced him to download on his phone. He complained about the times she kept thoughts to herself even when she was obviously angry.

Hell, Shigaraki had even added her to their Discord. If that didn’t indicate emotional investment, he didn’t know what did.

It had definitely gotten Iguchi wondering about this enigma of a girl in Shigaraki’s life — what she was like, her side of this weird story of theirs, how this was all going to end up in the long run. He supposed that he could’ve messaged her on Discord or even hopped on the voice chat when he saw that Shigaraki and her were online. But, well… 

He was really shy. And she was really pretty. Completely out of Shigaraki’s league. And if she was half as smart as Shigaraki said she was, Iguchi wouldn’t have been surprised if by now, she’d taken enough stock of that fact to figure out a way out of his grasp.

Thus, Iguchi found himself asking in the dining hall, “So, what? She dumped you?”

His friend tensed at the question.

“Shigaraki… we’re not dating.”

Tomura Shigaraki wasn’t an idiot, and he wasn’t completely delusional. He knew that this wasn’t a breakup. That would require them to be in a relationship after all, and they were most certainly not. She was right, she was not his girlfriend. Hell, he didn’t even want her to be. He’d learned the lesson to not form attachments a long time ago. It had been a hard one, but his Guardian had been absolutely right — attachments made you weak. And this only proved it.

Because the two of them weren’t in a relationship. But this had been the closest thing Shigaraki would probably ever have to one, and even just ending this had hurt him more than he was ever willing to admit.

“No,” he finally answered.

“A fight then.”

“I guess,” Shigaraki sighed, “I don’t know, it’s complicated.”

Iguchi cocked a brow at him, “Is it?”

Shigaraki pulled a face, “The hell is that supposed to mean?”

“If it was just a fight, why don’t you just apologize?”

“Why do you assume I was wrong?!” he snapped.

Iguchi pointedly decided not to answer that very obvious question, “I mean, does it really matter who was wrong? If all you want is to have sex again, taking the blame and being the bigger person seems like a guaranteed way to get you there.”

He was right in theory. Shigaraki even had a pretty good idea of what he’d need to say to mostly smooth things over. And it wasn’t like he was above lying to get her back in his bed — far from it. But that was kind of the problem.

The things he’d need to say wouldn’t be lies at all. Not deep down.

He’d been replaying that fight over and over again in his head, thinking about all the things that — in a perfect world — he’d have wanted to say. And each one was even more unacceptable than the last.

“I don’t care! And for that matter, why do you care?!”

“Because I care about you.”

“Shigaraki… we’re not dating. Like, you know that… right?”

“I do. And it fucking kills me.”

“Is that what you think is still going on here?!”

“Of course not. This is obviously so much fucking more.”

“Take it back. Or I’m out of here.”

“Okay. I take it back. I’m sorry. Please don’t leave. Please don’t leave ever again.”

Shigaraki’s nails crept their way up his neck, the imaginary scenarios descending deeper and deeper into somewhere dangerous. Somewhere desperate. Somewhere into regret.

No, he couldn’t just apologize nice and simple. Not the way that Sensei had taught him.

“It’s not like you should never apologize. You do need to be diplomatic. And a simple “I’m sorry” can go a long way in appealing to the masses. It never hurts to throw a bone here or there. But you need to be smart about it,” Sensei had explained to him once , “ You should never actually give them the chance to see you made a mistake. Don’t regret. Don’t feel sorry. You can offer an apology, but never beg for forgiveness.”

Yeah… Shigaraki was way past that point now. He’d absolutely made a mistake. He knew it the second he let her walk out the door. 

Even with a fake apology, even if he was the only one that knew the truth that would be behind those words, he knew deep down that he couldn’t go to her in a way where he could leave the conversation with his head held high if it ended in any way but one. He’d still be desperately hoping that she forgave him, heartbroken if she didn’t. Secretly disappointed and yearning if things went back to the way they were.

He couldn’t go to her without admitting that he needed her. Without being completely powerless.

“...you do just want the sex, right?” Iguchi prodded.

No. He wanted so much more. And that was the fucking problem. 

“Shut up,” Shigaraki snapped, shoving his tray forward and standing suddenly — leaving Iguchi and the cafeteria without another word.

For the first time in over a week, she found herself in a very familiar situation. Textbooks and worksheets spread across a table, some soft music playing in the background, while she studied in a boy’s bedroom.

It wasn’t a complete one-to-one. Mirio and her were actually studying together, sat across from each other at the chabudai in his bedroom, and snacking on neatly chopped veggies and green tea as opposed to crushed Doritos and cans of Monster. Not to mention that Mirio’s father didn’t have her simultaneously rolling her eyes and feeling like she needed to peel her skin off.

No, this actually kind of worked. Just a nice, lowkey afternoon. The naturalness of it all made her finally start to feel a bit better about the whole Shigaraki situation. Maybe it wasn’t that they had some kind of special connection, or that she felt more comfortable with him. It was just because the afternoons in his room were relaxing — a desperately needed break from the hustle and bustle of her normal life. She could have that with Mirio, no problem!

…right?

“Jeez babe,” Mirio awed, looking over the math practice test she was currently reviewing, “You’re like months ahead of where we are in class.”

“Oh,” she looked between Mirio and her work, realizing that he was talking to her, “Yeah, Todai’s exam covers all the way through Triple Integrals. I really can’t waste a second.” — Especially if she was going to have to continue on without Shigaraki’s infuriatingly good tutoring.

“No kidding,” Mirio whistled, “So then do you have any tricks on what we did today in class? With the partial derivatives?”

She blinked, genuinely surprised to hear Mirio actually thinking about his studies for once, “O-Oh, yeah. I’ve actually got a pretty good study guide for those, one sec.”

She dug around in her backpack until she found the composition book she was looking for. She tossed it to his side of the table before returning to her own work. Mirio picked up the book, looking over it curiously.

“It should be in the first couple of pages,” she explained, reaching to take a sip of her tea, “There’s a blue sticky note on—”

“—Tomura Shigaraki?”

She almost dropped her mug onto the table. She snapped up to Mirio, immediately filled with dread as she realized what she had just handed him. That had been one of Shigaraki’s study guides from his own third year. He’d given it to her when she was struggling with that section, insisting that his notes would explain it a hell of a lot better than her teacher ever could. 

And he’d written his name right on the front of it.

“U-Uhh, I um…” she floundered, trying in vain to come up with a believable lie, but what could she even say?

What conclusion could Mirio even draw from this? It’s not like he’d immediately jump to Shigaraki and her sleeping together based off of some calculus notes. But whatever he thought about it, she knew that she was fucked.

Especially with how long she’d been gaping and stammering now.

But to her surprise, he just smiled, “You two have become pretty good friends lately, huh?”

She threw her hands up frantically, “I wouldn’t say that—!”

“You don’t have to hide it, babe!” he laughed, “I’m not jealous just because you have other guy friends. I think it’s great you two ended up getting along!”

Her brows furrowed, beyond suspicious, “...R-Really?”

“Of course! I encouraged you to give him a chance after all!”

“Yeah… I guess you did…” she said, remembering that particular text conversation with a cringe.

Mirio smiled, thumbing through a few pages of the composition book curiously, “So these are his notes then?”

“Yeah… He tutors me sometimes,” she offered cautiously, then quickly added, “Not a lot! Just with like, test prep! You know, since he goes to Todai...”

“That’s great babe! You should take any edge you can get, you know?” he said, genuinely very excited for her, “Maybe he could even give you a tour of the campus, introduce you to some professors and stuff!”

She frowned, eyes dropping to study the wood grain of the table, “Yeah… I don’t think so…” 

Mirio tilted his head, “Why? Did something happen between you?”

It all rushed back to her then, the disgust in Shigaraki’s eyes, the venom in his voice. The words:

“Fuck, you’re pathetic.”

She’d been trying so hard to not think about it, to just pretend like none of this had ever happened. And when that proved impossible, she’d put everything into painting it in a new color, changing the narrative. Telling herself that Shigaraki was wrong. He was crazy. He didn’t know anything about her. He didn’t mean anything to her.

Fuck him. Fuck him. Fuck him.

But it seemed like the harder she tried, the harder she failed. And that ache in her chest started to burn hot and wide all over again.

“...No. We’re just both really busy right now,” she lied through her teeth.

“Oh,” Mirio blinked, surprised by the simplicity and finality of the answer, “Well, can’t help that I guess.”

He turned back to the work in front of him, flipping through Shigaraki’s notes casually, and they fell into what should’ve been a comfortable silence.

…And yet her thoughts had never been louder. Every worry and anxiety about her life, her relationships, Shigaraki — it all came rushing and ricocheting back in her head full force and making it painful to sit still.

God damn it, what was wrong with her? She finally had what she wanted – freedom from Tomura Shigaraki — and yet she still couldn’t just shut up and be happy. Mirio was so laid back and unconditionally loving, there was no reason for her to feel as guarded as she did. So why did she still feel all this pressure?

Why could she never be comfortable with him like she was when she was with him?

Somehow, that fucker had been able to not only loosen her armor, but slip underneath her skin. She’d been waiting months for Mirio to do that for her, to finally make her feel like she belonged. And yet Shigaraki — a guy she literally hated — had lapped him in practically a week. 

She was trying so hard, but was there even a chance for them anymore? What would it even take?

Raw images suddenly flashed through her mind. Lips against skin, flesh slapping flesh, a pair of spidery hands running up and down her body.

Sex.

Her eyes widened in realization.

That was it, wasn’t it? It was the sex. The epiphany disgusted her at first — she shouldn’t have even been calling it sex, given the context. But it made so much sense. The quiet it had brought to her mind, the fire it had lit in her belly, the confidence it had filled her with to bite back.

It was just that sweet, sneaky bitch oxytocin that was causing her adolescent mind to associate comfort with that mountain dew stain of a human. If she could have that with Mirio, someone she actually wanted to touch her... 

That was it. She had to fuck him.

“Hey…”

Mirio looked up curiously as she closed her textbook, slow and deliberate.

“Why don’t we take a break?”

He threw a quick glance at his bedside clock and smiled, “Sure! Want to watch some TV or something?”

“ No ,” she purred, crawling around the table with shrugged shoulders, batting her eyes in a way she hoped looked coy. It did right? It didn’t look stupid? Damn it, she’d never had to think about this before. Shigaraki never needed any kind of active seduction, “I was thinking of something else.”

“What, like Mario Kart—?”

She silenced him immediately with her lips. It was a long, deep kiss. The type that promised that this wasn’t the last and that had Mirio smiling stupid when she pulled away for breath.

“Y-Yeah okay,” he panted, “That works.”

She quickly climbed into his lap and he welcomed her just as eagerly. Strong arms caged tight around her body, hot, wide palms settling on the curves of her waist.

This was not their first make-out session. Not by any means. In fact, they’d been pretty hot and heavy at the beginning – a whirlwind of giggles and tongues and roaming hands. But never any further than that. Mirio had been beyond respectful, not even daring to bring up the topic of sex before she did, and honestly, she hadn’t been ready before. Now she was though. Beyond ready. 

She needed this.

Mirio groaned as she pulled his bottom lip between her teeth and kissed down his cheek and jaw. She weaved her fingers through his short baby blondes, pulling his head back so that she could live in the staunch definition of his Adam's apple. She didn’t have the greatest grip, his hair wasn’t long enough, not like–

—But he got the message, letting his head lull back so that she could suck at his throat.

“B-Babe, we have a meet,” he moaned, “Don’t leave a— oh man .”

If she wasn’t already giving him a little love bite, she would’ve smirked at how much he was coming undone. If the last two months had resulted in nothing else, at least they’d given her a couple of new tricks.

She recaptured his lips, pulling tighter into him until she could feel that familiar, flattering bulge rubbing under her thigh. She repositioned quick, grinding down on it with the seam of her panties, the center of her heat. 

The guttural groan in her mouth, the way his fingers twisted tight into the back of her blouse — it was all encouragement to rock into him again and again. And that was saying nothing for the encouragement currently burning up through her own body.

Yeah, alright. This was good. This was really good. She could feel a familiar fire in her belly, that tender wetness in between her thighs. When feelings weren’t part of the equation, it was beyond easy to be into Mirio. He was stupidly hot.

She could’ve giggled, filled with amorous glee as her fingers pulled down his neck and delighted across the hard curves of his chest. Even for a swimmer, Mirio had a stupidly chiseled physique. She’d seen it at least a thousand times at practices and meets, and yet at this moment, she couldn’t focus the image clearly in her head. She needed to see it fresh.

Needed it to replace that scarred, lithe muscle that flooded her mind every time she closed her eyes.

Mirio groaned as she practically ripped his shirt out from his waistband, hands desperately diving to spread across his bare abdomen. It was so smooth. Not a single indent or rough patch outside of the lines of his muscles.

“Oh God, babe—” he moaned.

She wondered if his thighs were just as hot, fingernails dragging along the leather of his belt.

“Wait—”

Palming the cock straining against his slacks.

“S-Stop, babe—stop!”

Mirio yanked her back suddenly by her shirt, catching the small of her back before she could hit the ground, but also not letting her get any closer than arm’s length from him.

He stared at her, cheeks flushed and shoulders heaving as he tried to catch his breath and regain his composure.

“W-We should stop,” he gasped, “If we don’t, I’m not gonna be able to…”

She couldn’t help but chuckle. He was being polite again.

“It’s okay,” she breathed, reaching forward to cup his cheek, “I don’t want you to.”

He frowned, almost guilty, “I… I’m glad. But um, the thing is…” he trailed off, not sure how to finish this sentence without completely insulting her.

Her eyes widened in realization.

Oh.

“… You don’t want to.”

Mirio didn’t deny it.

She cringed, an unexpected pain of rejection shocking her body — like she’d been dropped head first into a frigid lake.

“B-Babe—”

She reached back and pulled his hands out of her shirt, unable to get out of his lap fast enough.

“I don’t want you to take this the wrong way—” his words chased after her.

Damn it. Starting a sentence like that was never a good sign.

“—because you know how much I care about you, and how gorgeous I think you are.”

He was making it worse.

“And it’s not like I don’t want to, eventually…”

So much worse. God damn it.

“…I just don’t know if I’m ready.”

She was already past his explanation though. Just trying to straighten out her clothes and lick her wounds, cling onto whatever pride she had left. She was two for two in putting her heart on her sleeve and having it thrown right back at her now – this was so fucked.

“…babe?”

The whimper – a sound she didn’t even realize that Mirio could make – snapped her out of her stupor. He was staring at her, full of worry and she suddenly realized that he was waiting for her to say something.

And here she was huffing and puffing over not getting laid. What kind of fucking monster was she?

“I-It’s fine!” she threw on her best fake smile, “I totally understand!”

A lie. A big fat fucking lie. She didn’t understand it in the slightest. She knew that she should’ve, but maybe she just wasn’t as smart as she thought she was. How could a guy who had told her that he loved her not want to have sex with her? What was wrong with her? No, what was wrong with him ? Didn’t he see how much she needed this? How much she needed him to prove that—?

Her racing mind stopped in its tracks — finally catching up to and deciphering the tumbleweed of words bouncing around her panicked brain.

Mirio had told her that he loved her, but she’d never said it back.

“...you seem disappointed.”

“N-No I’m—!” she struggled with what to say, “I-I mean I… I wouldn’t ever want to pressure you, Mirio. I’m sorry…”

“No, no I didn’t take it that way I swear,” he assured, “It’s just that… It’s a big deal. I really want our first time to be special.”

Her heart sunk at those words. Our first time.

“...I don’t want to just do it on a whim, you know? We should really think about this and what we want. We should be sure.”

And there it was. Mirio was waiting to see if she was serious, waiting for her to love him back. The guy was deeper than she gave him credit for. But in a way it made him even more of an idiot. Three words? That was all it would take? She could spit out three words at least once. Fake it long enough so that she could figure out—

Damn it. God fucking damn it. Was her mind really going there? Was she really considering telling her boyfriend that she loved him just so she could bang him and figure out if she actually loved him? What the actual fuck was wrong with her?

“Are we okay?”

She snapped to him with a bright smile, taking his hands in her own, and giving them a gentle squeeze, “Of course we are.”

Despite ending the conversation on a theoretically good note, she decided not to stay much longer. Mirio didn’t try and stop her either. Awkward was an understatement — that had gotten downright embarrassing. And it seemed like they both needed to take some time to themselves to think.

After all, this was the first time in their entire relationship that he didn’t offer to walk her home.

She dropped onto an open bench at the train station with a sigh. It was starting to get cold these days, she could see her breath even when the sun was still up. And her mind began to wander.

It roamed to the times she saw Mirio angry, as few and far between as they were. The disgust boiling in his eyes when he’d talk about the latest “pathetic slimeball” that his boss was investigating or when he’d hear about a bank robber that was just arrested on the news. His sense of good and evil were set and firm, and for how truly kind and understanding he was to what he considered the good in the world, he was equally harsh and judgmental of what he considered the bad.

If he knew the things she’d done to him now – hell, even if he could just hear her thoughts like this – she was positive that he’d look at her the same way.

And she just didn’t think she could handle that. Not yet.

Regardless, she knew that look was coming. It was inevitable. And the further she pushed it off, the longer she kept lying to him and trying to power through, the worse it was going to get. The more she was going to hurt him.

But even admitting to all that in her head, there was still one last spider’s thread keeping them glued together, leaving her unable to pull the trigger. Because it’s not like it’ll just be Mirio that she’ll lose — someone she did genuinely care about even before they started dating. It’ll be the rest of her friends too. 

She’d been the newcomer of their group in middle school, the outsider. Tamaki, Nejire, Yuyu — they’d all undoubtedly take Mirio’s side. Not to mention that she’d lose her good standing with the swim team, who would follow that group to the ends of the earth. And it didn’t help that her family loved Mirio too. They’d be devastated to know that she’d broken up with ‘such a nice boy’. It would be her entire life as she knew it, gone. She’d have nothing.

And wouldn’t Tomura Shigaraki just love that?

She let out a pitiful laugh, shaking her head at the thought. Nowhere else to turn, nobody else to go to? God he’d be freaking ecstatic. She could practically see him slumped down on the bench next to her, arms crossed and “I told you so” painted all across his stupid, snarky face.

“It’s about damn time,” he’d say.

“I still haven’t broken up with him,” she’d bite back.

He’d roll his eyes with an exasperated groan, “Jesus—what the hell are you waiting for, alimony checks? Just dump the meathead already.”

“Of course, you’re saying that,” she’d sigh bitterly at that, “You just want me to be single so you can own me.”

Shigaraki would have snorted, “If I wanted to own you, I’d own you. I have everything I need to make sure you don’t go anywhere, and you know it.”

Her gaze would drop back down to her loafers, unable to argue with him there.

“I obviously don’t want you to be anything to me,” he’d continue, “Otherwise, you sure as hell wouldn’t be here right now.”

Her chest would ache in that way she’d been fighting against all week, but worse. Because this wouldn’t just be intrusive thoughts. This would be from Shigaraki, no bullshit. This would be a truth that cut her to the bone. 

“This shit’s all over— you can’t use me as an excuse anymore. Not to stay. Not to leave.” 

Suddenly he’d swing his legs up into her lap and lean back along the bench, arms crossed lackadaisically behind his head. 

“I’ve told you before, and I’ll tell you again.”

She’d look down to him, and he’d flash her a cocky, knowing grin.

“Just do what you want.”

But he wasn’t saying any of that. He wasn’t even here. She was just sitting in an empty train station, staring at the backpack weighing lifelessly in her lap.

And she’d feel even more alone than before.

Shigaraki’s room was empty. 

Cluttered and beyond lived in yes, but completely devoid of the life and warmth he’d gotten so used to recently. So, in his mind, it was just as bare as the day he’d first moved in.

He stood in the doorway just looking at it all, waiting. Waiting for her to appear in his desk chair the next time he blinked. Waiting for her to come up behind him and demand to know why he was blocking the door.

Waiting for something to change.

This wasn’t quite like the time he’d lost Mon-chan, there were still traces of her in here. Some finished practice tests on his desk, a school tie hanging off one of his dressers, a lingering whiff of that fruity body mist she liked still clinging to one of his pillows.

Right now at least, he still had proof that she’d existed in his space at some point — that she wasn’t just a dream or a snippet of a foggy nightmare. He had things for him to cling to. But eventually they’d be gone too, just like Mon-chan’s toys.

And so many of his memories.

Shigaraki was older now, wiser. He knew where he’d gone wrong this time. He’d let himself feel and think that she could do things for him that he should’ve handled himself. 

He’d let himself care.

So this was for the best. He knew it was. His conversation with Iguchi had made that painfully clear. And yet he still couldn’t fight the ache he felt when he imagined her turning back in his chair to ask for help or yelling at him for cheating with the switch controller in her hand.

Or sprawled out asleep on his bed.

He closed the door with a sigh. He’d been avoiding spending time in that room all week, and he wasn’t ready to stop his streak now. He turned back down the hall and made his way to the kitchen, where Kurogiri was prepping dinner.

“Tomura Shigaraki,” Kurogiri acknowledged as he took a seat at the island in front of him.

He just grunted in response, dropping his chin in one hand and picking at his neck in the other. 

Kurogiri peered up from his parsnip-chopping, sizing up the young man’s mood with doctoral-level expertise. There was a specific vulnerability he showed to the servant and caretaker that he didn’t show to anyone else. He came to Kurogiri like this when he was lost, head riddled with questions that he’d been unable to find an answer to despite hours of trying.

Questions he couldn’t ask his Guardian.

He never came out and actually asked them, his pride wouldn’t allow it. Kurogiri was an employee after all — by definition, less than the Shigarakis even without their personal high standards for the rest of the world. Admitting that someone like Kurogiri might know what to do better than Tomura would be admitting a weakness that the elder Shigaraki had always made clear was completely unacceptable.

He usually had to figure out what the problem was from body language and context alone — never asking too many questions or coming off as sympathetic or judgmental — and coming up with a solution and modest delivery accordingly. It could be a challenge at times, much like the riddles and brain teaser books he’d practically torn through in his youth.

This particular logic puzzle, however, was far from a challenge to figure out.

“Your friend hasn’t been over in a while.” Kurogiri noted, shifting to chop another parsnip without missing a beat.

“Spinner was here yesterday.” Shigaraki grunted.

“Not that one.”

Shigaraki scowled. He knew that’s where Kurogiri was going with this — God, he was just as obnoxious as Spinner.

“You were here,” he spat, “You heard more or less what happened, right?”

“I do.”

Shigaraki threw his hand out, emphasizing, “So there you fucking go.”

“I heard her leave in anger,” Kurogiri said, “But I was under the impression that she was required to return at your call.”

“Yeah?” Shigaraki glowered, silently asking for his point.

“So, then you haven’t called?” he peered up at Shigaraki.

“You heard how angry she was! And completely disobedient! All she does is fight, fight, fight — even if I force her back, it’ll get worse. She’s not worth the hassle!” he ranted until suddenly his head started to throb — the energy limit to his anger quickly reached. He’d slept even less than usual this last week, just scratching and button-mashing through the night on his gaming laptop in the living room.

“It’s just,” he breathed, “Better off this way...” 

“I see,” Kurogiri stated simply as he cleared his cutting board into a bowl,  “So you don’t want her anymore.”

He snapped to Kurogiri, brows furrowed, “I never said that!”

“So you do, then?”

Shigaraki looked down to the counter, eyes following listlessly along the patterns in the marble. Why did everyone have to keep asking him these stupid, loaded questions?

“It doesn’t matter,” he muttered, “She’s exactly the type of distraction Sensei warned me about. She’s not worth it.” He peered hesitantly at Kurogiri, “...don’t you think?”

Kurogiri kept his expression blank, foggy. He couldn’t let Shigaraki see the concern in his eyes, the sympathy he felt for him — lest he solidify his decision to cut her out of his life for good. Because he was absolutely right, this was precisely the type of thing his Guardian had worried about. But it was also exactly the thing that Kurogiri saw he needed. The only thing in the last ten years that he’d seen help the young boy he’d all but raised.

“I do not. The Master gave her to you. And he trusts that you’ve learned well enough to make your own decisions,” Kurogiri explained, maintaining maximum nonchalance as he reached to retrieve a pan from the overhead rack, “I think in this case you have nothing to worry about.”

Shigaraki’s fingers stilled at his neck, Kurogiri’s words lightening the weight in his chest.

“You should do as you wish.”

Chapter Text

Meet day. Her last first one. 

The host school’s locker room was empty, almost eerily so. She wondered as she pulled the straps of her suit over her shoulders, how she had gotten here so much earlier than any of the other swimmers. But she didn’t dwell. Honestly, this was probably a good thing. She could really use this time to clear her head. Even if she didn’t want to. 

When had this all gotten so hard? Meet days, even with all their stress and chaos, used to be one of the few times she could really let go. It didn’t matter what drama was going on in the swim club or whatever feelings she was wrestling with about her friends or family — at a meet all she had to worry about was what time her heat started, swimming her hardest, and cheering on her friends.

But this time, there seemed to be just a little too much baggage for her to really leave behind. She dropped her forehead against the locker with a groan, overwhelmed. 

Mirio, Shigaraki, her feelings, her future — the anxieties about them all had latched onto her mind and refused to let go. They were screaming at her that she needed to make a decision, even though she’d already made one. And she’d made the right one, so why did it feel so wrong?

Maybe there had never been a right decision to begin with.

“You’re nervous.”

Her breath hitched at the familiar rasp. A pair of long, sinewy hands ran down her arms almost from nowhere — familiar calluses hooking up every goosebump in their path. They stopped only when they could spread over her own hands, lacing with her fingers and pressing her palms firm into the locker.

“That’s not like you,” their owner purred hot into her ear.

“Shigaraki—” she gasped, then quickly cleared the breathiness from her throat, “W-What are you doing here?”

He buried his nose into the plush of her hair — she hadn’t managed to tie it up yet, “You didn’t think I’d miss this, did you?”

A spiteful laugh slipped from her chest, “Why would I have expected you to come? I already told you that we’re not dating.” 

“And I already told you,” he kissed shivers down the nape of her neck, “That doesn’t matter. You’re mine.”

Her nails curled tight against the locker, the reminder of his words stabbing her fresh all over again.

“Just stop,” she turned back to glare over her shoulder, “It’s not like you actually care about me.”

He scowled against her skin, “You know that’s not true.”

The stab was going straight for her eyes now, burning.

“Do I?” she choked.

She yelped as he suddenly flipped her around, pinning her back to the locker hard enough that it should’ve hurt her head, but somehow didn’t. He didn’t give her the chance to dwell on that strange fact — or the fact that this locker room was still somehow completely empty and she was weirdly unworried about that changing. He leaned in fast and close until his nose was just a breath away, the carmine of his eyes burning into her soul.

“Yes,” he growled, “You do.”

She wasn’t sure who moved into the kiss first — she’d tell herself that it was him, obviously. But it’s not like it mattered much. Her mouth was working just as frantically as his — a starving tangle of lips and moans and tongues. 

Shigaraki pressed her hands harder as they jolted in his grip — dragging them up against the cold steel of the lockers until they were stretched high above her head. In one move he crossed them at the wrist and locked them in the wide palm of his right hand, his left dragging down the length of her body, followed closely by lips sucking roughly down her jaw.

He suddenly yanked the suit seam curving under her arm, in towards her sternum to release one of her breasts, then hooked his thumb over the other side to give the same treatment. 

“H-Hey!” she flushed down at the spandex bunched taut between her cleavage, “You’re gonna stretch it!”

He grinned, bunching the fabric in his fist and wrenching it — and in effect her breasts — up roughly. 

“You’re lucky I’m not destroying it.”

With one last slam back into the locker, he released his grip on her hands so that he could grope at her tits. Her arms dropped across his bare shoulders — wait, had his shirt been off the whole time? Oh fuck, it didn’t matter, his mouth was latching to her nipple, sucking it in a way that had never felt this good before.

His knee crashed between her legs with a force that shook the lockers behind her, that definitely should’ve hurt him. But apparently he wasn’t feeling any pain either — only the aching burn blazing through their cores.

“Sh-Shigaraki—” she mewled as he ground his knee into her heat.

“This wet already?” he leered up from her breasts, giving his quad another deep churn between her legs, “Someone missed me.”

Her head fell back, fighting words forever lost in the gasps and fog in her mind. Shigaraki groaned at the sight, at the shameless way she arched into him.

In an impatient flurry, he was pulling himself out of his joggers and shoving the soaked crotch of her suit to the side.

“Fuck, I can’t wait,” he growled, shoving her leg up and against the lockers by the back of her knee to give him the angle he needed. 

No excuses were given for the lack of foreplay and honestly, none were wanted. Because she couldn’t wait either. It had been over a week since her mind had cleared and she needed the blank slate.

He gripped her thigh and hip tight as he sunk completely into her with one sharp thrust. She fought back a cry at the sudden fullness — a fight she quickly lost when he pulled back just as fast. The pace he set was stout and merciless, almost as if he thought that any time they weren’t knocking hips, it’d end. 

Fingers curled tight at his scalp to try and anchor herself, the rough tempo doing little for her balance. Each thrust had the balls of her feet hiking off the floor, keeping her from maintaining a solid footing. The need to readjust interrupted the rhythm more times than Shigaraki was happy with. 

So, with a frustrated growl, he grabbed her by the ass and hoisted her up against the lockers. She squeaked, genuinely startled by the unexpected show of strength, her legs locking around his waist to keep herself from falling.

“ F-Fuck— ” he groaned as her hips fell flush against his, pulling him in deeper and tighter than he’d ever been.

He looked up at her through hooded eyes and they froze. They were close, really close. Not just in the fact that he was buried to the hilt inside her or that their foreheads were almost touching. They’d never stared into each other’s eyes this deeply, never coiled around each other so completely. 

It sparked a feeling in her chest that she couldn’t identify if she wanted to — and she really didn’t want to. She felt exposed yet secure. Raw yet complete. Lost yet found. It was a feeling that scared the absolute shit out of her, and yet she couldn’t look away. She was mesmerized, and it was obvious that he felt the same.

He rolled his hips experimentally, stroking savoringly at the exact spot that had her legs going gooey. She sighed, letting her head lean completely into his as her hips ground right back into him.

There were no words, no grunts or groans, jabs or slaps — absolutely nothing shared with the pornographic, emotionless sex she was used to. Just breathy whines and heaving sighs. Skin rocking against skin and maintained eye contact.

Shigaraki pulled her into a kiss — deep and slow. Her arms curled tight around the back of his neck, drawing him in closer and closer. And she could feel herself getting closer and closer. Not just to an orgasm either. To something she’d been looking for her entire life. Closer to trusting. Closer to affection.

Closer to falling in lov—

She woke up with a shriek — heart racing and chest heaving. 

For several minutes, she could do nothing but stare at the ceiling, try to slow her laboring diaphragm, and attempt to process just what in the name of Morpheus had gone through her brain right now. 

What was that? No, really. What the actual fuck was that? 

A sex dream was one thing, a sex dream about Shigaraki — regrettable, but not insane. Loathe as she was to admit it, she’d been feeling pretty pent up from her return to perpetual sexlessness. 

But a dream like that ? With all the petting and kissing and — shit, were those feelings ? That was nothing but bad news.

There was a ringing in her ears that took her a couple more deep breaths to realize were actually coming from her phone alarm. She reached over to tap it off and ran a palm down her face. She groaned at the feeling. God, she was soaked. Both from sweat and from—

“Peanut?”

She yanked the covers up to her nose as she heard the soft knock and her bedroom door nudge open.

“Yes?!” she immediately cringed at the crack in her voice.

Luckily, he seemed to just take it as a bit of sleep still stuck in her throat. 

“Just making sure you’re up,” he chirped, “That was your second alarm, right?”

“I-I’m up, don’t worry!” she tried to steady her voice, “Thanks for checking though!”

“Of course, sweetie. Breakfast is on the table,” he smiled at her, full of pride and sentimentality. He sung as he slipped back out with an excited little shoulder wiggle, “Biiiig day!”

She waited for the door to completely click shut then let out a hard exhale. She pulled the comforter down from her nose and used it to try and fan the flush from her face.

Calm down . She willed herself. You need to calm the fuck down. It was just a dream. A stupid, stupid dream. An acetylcholine-branded cocktail of all the stresses and confusion about sex and feelings and future, being served shaken not stirred in the bar of her hyperactive teenage brain. It didn’t mean anything .

…It couldn’t mean anything, she reminded herself. Because Tomura Shigaraki didn’t even want her anymore anyway.

She did actually arrive early to the meet that morning. In contrast to her dream logic however, the place was already bustling. Club managers set up timing systems, swimmers dryland stretched as they waited for the lanelines to be set, loved ones threw elbows and choice words at each other in order to claim prime bleacher seats. That was the camp her family was in.

“Show ‘em hell Peanut,” her Dad kissed her quick on the head before hurrying to the spot he’d already set his sights on. He was the pinnacle of a supportive sports parent, to a dorky degree. The kind that had beach umbrellas, portable seat cushions, snacks and sunscreen coming out the wazoo. Not to mention the homemade, cardstock signs with her name on them. Shame was for the minor leagues — he was a pro now.

Her younger brother on the other hand, as someone who had just started little league within the last two years, was a bit of a newb.

“Do we have to sit with him?” he whined and pulled the brim of his bucket hat down over his ears, practically trying to crawl into the thing out of embarrassment. 

Her mom swatted lightly at his grip, “Yes, sweetie. Family sticks together.”

“I wanna be adopted,” he muttered, earning a laugh from their mom as she readjusted his hat.

Yes, he was still moderately fresh to these antics, but he would learn just like she had. Normally she’d be laughing and teasing him right along with her mom, but she honestly hadn’t been able to get out of her own head since she woke up this morning —  too plagued with thoughts that she shouldn’t even have been thinking about in the first place.

Things were good right now. Like, really good. Everyone around her was happy, everything was in harmony — just like she always wanted. Her family was pulling out all the superfan stops for this completely inconsequential meet. Her friends would undoubtedly give her a Cheers greeting as soon as she entered the locker room. Her boyfriend was in love with her.

It was stupid. She knew that she meant a lot to a lot of people. So then why did she still feel so worthless just because of what one pervy asshole thought of her?

Her mom turned to her, smile faltering when she noticed the pensiveness in her daughter, “Is everything okay, sweetie?”

“Huh? Oh—!” she was quick to throw on a perky tone, “Y-Yeah, why?”

A knowing smile quirked her mom’s lips — and for a moment she was really worried that maybe she’d let something slip. 

“Honey,” her mom leaned down to her younger brother, “Why don’t you go help your Dad set up?”

He groaned, “ Really ?”

“Yes, really. Go,” she patted his back, sending him off with a pep that did not make his step any less dragging.

She braced herself as her mom turned to her, “Nervous about the recruiters?” 

The recruiters? 

She followed her mom’s nod towards a reserved section of the bleachers, which was already filling up with lanyard-wearing, clipboard-bearing middle-aged men. Oh yeah. The recruiters.

“That obvious, huh?” she lied, throwing in a fake, sheepish laugh for good measure.

Her mom clearly bought it though, smiling at her sympathetically and rubbing the small of her back, “You have absolutely nothing to be nervous about…”

Actually, she one-hundred percent agreed with her mother there — though, not for the reason she was probably trying to imply. The truth was, that it really didn’t matter how she swam today, it’s not like the recruiters would be looking at her anyway. Her breaststroke may have been the fastest in her class, but all eyes today would no doubt be on Tsuyu Asui for her high school swim debut. Several of them were already talking to her in fact. Her own name probably wasn’t even on their long list. 

It was silly when she thought about it. For so long she’d strived to not stand out from the crowd — loved swimming because, when she was in the water, wasn’t on display. And yet now, at the eleventh hour, she felt a faint, gnawing wish to stand on the podium. To shine. Just another thing that was too little, too late, she supposed.

“Don’t even think about them,” her mom continued, “Just focus on your cheering section,” she smiled suddenly as someone else caught her eye near the front gate, “Looks like you’ll have a bigger one today.”

Her brows furrowed as her mom turned her shoulders to look at the entrance. Then she froze.

The terrible posture and surly drag in his step. The faded, back hoodie pulled over a thick shag of pale hair. The sharp, red eyes burrowing straight into her.

Tomura Shigaraki.

For a moment, she thought that this was just a part of her dream that she couldn’t remember flashing through her mind. Or maybe she was just imagining what he’d be like if he was here, like at the train station. That she’d blink and he’d go away. 

But he didn’t. And she had no idea how to feel about it.

There was a disturbing flutter in her chest at first, a jolt of excitement zapping her head stupid and weightless for a moment. It quickly morphed into an aching pain and panic that would typically follow an electrical shock. 

Questions seared through her brain a mile a minute. Why was he here? What was he going to do? What did she want him to do? They all came stumbling over each other before she could even think about figuring out a way to ask them. And before she knew it, he was standing right in front of her.

“Tomura!” her mother chirped and he suddenly stiffened. As if he hadn’t even noticed her mother standing next to her until this moment. And honestly, he probably hadn’t.

“It’s great to see you!” she continued, “How is Shigaraki-sama?”

“Uh… Fine, I guess…” he muttered, focussing his piercing attention instead back on her daughter.

The look had every muscle in her body tightening, remembering that the last time she saw those eyes were in a very compromising dream.

“Well, it’s just wonderful that you came to watch the meet,” she said, “My husband and I are just ecstatic that you two have become such good friends.”

Shigaraki just hummed in response and brought a finger to his neck, not sure how to engage in this spontaneous, saccharine smalltalk. He clearly wanted this to end already and get to the reason he was here.

Luckily (for him at least), her mom finally took the hint.

“Well, I’ll leave you to it,” she said, kissing her daughter’s temple, “Come by if either of you need anything, alright?”

She waved her mom off absentmindedly, finally having the mental wherewithal to actually look over the rest of him. 

Dark circles hung heavy off blood-shot eyes. His hair was even scruffier than usual, tangled and poofing out of his pulled-up hood in all directions. There was a smattering of bandages covering his neck haphazardly. Concerningly. She’d only seen him cover his neck when he’d actually started bleeding — and these were all over. Yet he still reached to rub at his throat.

Honestly, he looked like shit.

She almost found herself asking if he was okay, but quickly caught herself, the words that last came from those split lips of his echoing raw in her mind.

“What are you doing here?” she finally asked instead.

Shigaraki didn’t answer at first, almost like he himself didn’t really know. He looked away, subconsciously trying to pull at one of the band-aids on his neck. 

Before she could repeat herself, he suddenly thrust a little white box that she didn’t even realize he was holding into her face, “ Here .”

It took her a moment to process, looking over the rectangular carton with the recognizable fruit logo like it was an alien object. He shook it at her impatiently, stuffing his hands back into his pockets when she finally took it.

A new phone.

Like, an insanely new phone. This model wasn’t even scheduled to hit the market for another month. Of course, knowing that didn’t alleviate any of the confusion over why he was giving it to her.

“What is—?”

“You never called or texted, so I figured your phone must still be broken.”

Her eye twitched. Any surprise or goodwill, all of the agonizing and obsessing she’d been doing over the last week, was swiftly tossed in the pool filter. Pure, unadulterated, irritation took its place.

Why the fuck had she been so worried about this guy’s validation again? Nevermind the fact that he hadn’t reached out either. Was he seriously trying to pin all of the responsibility on her? What an asshole.

“It isn’t, actually,” she spat, shoving the box back to him, “Only takes the store like an hour to replace a screen these days.”

He looked taken aback, genuinely surprised that his bitter, sorry excuse for an olive branch didn’t work. Was it even an olive branch? She was pretty sure if she asked him if this was an apology he’d vehemently deny it. It was probably more akin to a bribe.

“O-Oh…” he took the box back awkwardly, not sure what to do with it now. Not sure what to do with any of this.

She crossed her arms, waiting for his Plan B. But he just stood there in front of her, becoming aimless and agitated. 

It was pretty pathetic if she was being honest. But he’d already well worn out any sympathy his ragged appearance may have mustered for him. 

She sighed, “Well, if that’s all you’re here for then—”

“It’s not.”

She cocked a brow. Oh, there was more? This oughta be good. 

What else could he be here for? To make a scene? To dangle an even shinier carrot in front of her, like some big in to Todai? Or maybe to make a display of the stick — threaten to show some incriminating videos he’d taken of to her parents and Mirio.

She couldn’t deny that the possibilities scared her, but she held her poker face firm and just stared at him to continue.

“I… I want to see you swim.”

She blinked. 

That was not that answer she’d been expecting.

She narrowed her eyes suspiciously, “Why?”

“...It’s important to you, right? So I should… know about it, or something…”

…

…

…Oh, bullshit.

She repeated, more accusatory this time, “ Why ?”

He scowled, “What do you mean, why? I just told you—”

“And I’m telling you that I don’t buy it,” she almost could’ve laughed at how genuinely offended he looked at that. She shook her head in disbelief, “I mean, come on. Am I supposed to believe that you don’t have an ulterior motive? Just fall over and thank you for being here, no questions asked? Because I’m just that desperate for approval ?”

Shigaraki cringed as she threw his own words back in his face. 

“How stupid do you think I am?!”

“I don’t think you’re stupid!” He snapped back, about to demand who’s ass she’d even pulled that stupid idea out from, before remembering. 

Remembering all of the choice words he’d thrown at her during their fight, not to mention the ones from before. The way he’d torn her down and stripped her emotionally raw so that she’d be easier to keep in line, be less confident to leave. And all while he was simultaneously encouraging her to aim higher for herself, just not too high. Like he was trying to keep her on a retractable leash. 

It was a stupid plan in retrospect — if he could even call it that. To be honest, he’d never thought about how that’d all translate into keeping her around in the long-run, never thought it’d get that far. But now…

“I don’t think you’re stupid,” he repeated, evenly this time, “Or pathetic. I think you're… nice… to have around…”

She paused, secondhand embarrassment easing her anger a bit. It was almost comical how difficult saying simple niceties like this were for Shigaraki. But she wouldn’t rescue him. She needed to hear it, needed to know what he actually wanted to say.

“...I meant what I said that time,” he finally collected his thoughts a bit, “About telling me things. Your things… matter to me. You mat— mmh,”

His lips squeezed tight, bile bubbling hot in the back of his throat. He couldn’t say it. Not without throwing up all over her Birkenstocks and cute little pedicure.

Admitting to wanting to exchange interests was one thing. Admitting to anything more made him truly nauseas.

“...so yeah,” he managed to choke out, “All that.”

Her brows furrowed. She didn’t know what to make of “all that”. What could anyone make of “all that”? It honestly created more questions than it answered.

She sighed, “...You know that my boyfriend’s here, right?”

That definitely seemed to bother him, but surprisingly, he grit his teeth and kept it to himself, “That’s fine… It’s not like you and I are dating.” 

“So what are we?” she finally asked, the big elephant in the room, the thing she’d not only been wondering about for the last week, but ever since his actions after Ujiko’s house call, honestly, “What am I to you, Shigaraki?”

His eyes glued to the floor. He couldn’t answer her if he tried. Hell, he wasn’t even able to answer that question himself. All he knew was that he couldn’t not have her in his life anymore. And he’d say anything just short of the truth to make that happen.

She could barely hear him when he finally muttered, “...your Mom called us friends.”

“Uh-huh,” she nodded for him to elaborate.

He didn’t. Just gave an uncomfortable grunt and a hesitant look. Pink dusted his cheeks and something akin to hope flashed in his eyes. Like a puppy in training wondering, “Was that right?”

She stared at him incredulously, struggling to wrap her mind around all of this. Even as she replayed it over and over again in her mind, she couldn’t quite make sense of it. 

Tomura Shigaraki had made the trek out to a school he had no connection to, several wards away, at seven in the morning, to try and gift her a phone, and give her this whole runaround treatment just so that they could… be friends ?

It took a painful amount of time for the testimony to stop reading back like pig latin in her head. For it to fully stick that yes — that was actually exactly what he was doing here. 

And once she processed it, she couldn’t help but laugh. Hard. Like, dropped her swim bag onto the concrete and held her stomach hard.

“ Seriously?!” she practically shrieked, startling and embarrassing Shigaraki even more.

“I-I—” he choked out, but she waved him off frantically.

“N-No sto— stop!” she gasped out between cackles, “Before you h-hurt yourself!” 

Shigaraki became furiously red, looking so far away from her that she thought his head might snap off for a second, “ Fine! Are we good, then?!”

Her laugh started to ease and she looked up at him, fully.

Of course they weren’t good. First of all, that was, without a doubt, the worst apology she’d ever heard in her life — if she could even call it that. And there was no overlooking the fact that they were only having this conversation because he’d been extorting her for sex — a topic that somehow hadn’t even come up in this exchange. But they were supposed to become friends from that? 

What even was “good” for them? Did he just expect things to go back to the way they were, just with a new title? Could she even say no in this situation? It seemed like he was going to accept whatever answer she gave him — but the fact that it was even a question should’ve made the answer pretty cut and dry. She should be telling him to pound sand and just get on with her life.

But, if this week had taught her anything, it was that this situation wasn’t really that simple anymore. Because, loathe as she was to admit it, she was, maybe, kind of, sort of…

…ugh, happy to see him.

And this was not the time or place to start unpacking all of that.

She sighed, rubbing the back of her head, “...It’s not like I’m gonna kick you out or anything.” 

He slumped a little at the answer. It certainly wasn’t the make-up sex he’d been hoping for.

But then she smiled, a little color rising in her own cheeks. 

“So you should do what you want, right?”

Shigaraki looked back up at her, surprised. But quickly returned a toothy grin.

“Right.”

“So how long do these things usually last?” he asked, a few seconds of charged, blushing silence later, “An hour or two?”

She smirked, “Try at least four.”

His eyes widened, “And you’re swimming the whole time?”

“Oh no, just four events,” she laughed when he suddenly gawked, “I know, I know, it’s a long day. But you brought a handheld, right?”

“...no. “

She snorted.

“I didn’t think it would be that long!” 

And if he was being totally honest, a part of him was thinking he wouldn’t have had to stay for it at all. That she’d say “to hell with the meet” and run off to fuck him into the sunset because she was so moved by his grand gesture. Or at the very least tell him that he could leave because “just him showing up” meant enough.

She showed him no such mercy.

“Look, it’s not like you’re at the dentist or something. They’re races, they’re fun!”

“You’re just going back and forth the whole time,” he grumbled, “How do you not get bored?”

“What can I say, I just like it,” she answered honestly, looking across the growing hustle and bustle of the pool deck. A bit of melancholy settled in her chest as she, for the first time this morning, was finally able to take it all in, “I can’t believe this is going to be my last year.”

He cocked a brow, “You’re not trying to get on a college team?”

She shrugged, “I mean that’d be nice. But the recruiters aren’t gonna be impressed by the events I’m in. There might be a chance with my IM, but probably not compared to other schools.”

“So why’d you pick those events?”

“I didn’t really. Nejire and Mirio asked me to swim in them,” she frowned, “I’m a jack of all trades, I go where I’m needed.”

Shigaraki huffed in clear annoyance, “So this really is all a waste of time then.”

Her brows furrowed, “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“You put in all this time — didn’t master anything, didn’t get any real friends out of it, and don’t care enough to actually try and go the distance with it,” he explained, “Waste of time.”

Damn, every time she started to think he might actually be a nice guy sans the ™ …

“Yeah, well you can’t even swim, so—”

“ Oi .”

She was being snarky, brushing off the words like they didn’t mean anything, but the truth was, that they actually did stick — pricking into every one of her insecurity pressure points. He was absolutely right. Again. 

Ugh, she hated when that happened.

“ Onee-chan !”

She turned to see her little brother stomping red-faced up to them.

“Hey, kid. What’s up?”

“Dad’s trying to make me wear a t-shirt with your face on it.”

“As you should,” she kneeled down to pinch her brother’s cheek with a grin, “I’m gonna wear one with your face at your next game.”

“I don’t WANT you to!” he yelled, swatting her hand away.

Her brother looked up then, finally noticing her companion. She followed suit and almost snorted at the painful level of irritation and malice on Shigaraki’s face for having their conversation interrupted.

Surprise, surprise - Tomura Shigaraki didn’t like kids.

“You remember Tomura-kun, right?” she asked, “From dinner?”

“Yeah…” her brother said cautiously, before suddenly blurting out, “Your dad’s weird.”

Her breath hitched at the cavalier use of the D-word. She snapped to Shigaraki, anxiety spiking when she wasn’t able to read his expression. She didn’t know what to expect from this, but it couldn’t be good.

To her surprise, Shigaraki just rubbed a little at his neck and muttered, “Yeah well, seems like yours is too...”

She blinked. Woah. Who knew the guy could actually have some tact?

The answer seemed to impress her brother enough to relieve some of the judgment from his little expression. He even cracked a smile.

“Yeah he is. He’s really embarrassing!”

“Well, that’s… what they do, I guess…” he muttered it more like a question. In theory that was probably what normal dads did. He personally had no clue.

Her brother watched him for a moment, thoughtfully. Then quickly moved onto the second (and arguably, most important) test. He threw his arms up suddenly.

“Lift me.”

Shigaraki glared, his patience finally wearing thin — didn’t this kid have other family members to annoy?

“Why the fuck would I do that?”

Ack — maybe she spoke too soon on the tact.

“Watch your mouth,” she smacked his arm, “He’s seven.”

“I don’t give a shit,” Shigaraki snapped before turning back to her brother, “Beat it, kid. I’m not lifting you.”

“ Stop it! ” she hissed.

Her brother dropped his arms and turned to her with a pout and his final verdict.

“I like Onii-chan better.”

Her stomach just about dropped through the floor. Fuck .

Shigaraki looked at her with visible confusion, “You have another brother?”

“Uh, well—”

“Senpai! ”

She turned back to see Uraraka waving to her from just outside the locker rooms, Asui and Midoriya at her sides. Midoriya for some reason was looking at her particularly curiously.

“You coming?!”

“Be right there!” she called back, almost crying from relief. Honestly, Uraraka couldn’t have had better timing. This was not something that she wanted to get into with Shigaraki right now — if ever.

She turned back to her brother, “Well be nice to him anyway, alright? Tomura-kun’s gonna sit with you guys today.”

Shigaraki snapped to her, “I am?”

“Would you rather sit alone?”

“ Yes .”

“You’re gonna get kicked out of here if you sit by yourself looking like that,” she sighed, “So just follow the seven year old, please.”

Her brother held his hand out to Shigaraki expectantly. His eyes flickered between those little fingers and the young boy’s blank expression, comically disturbed.

“What is that— what are you doing?” he demanded.

She grinned, reciting like a kindergarten teacher, “We hold hands in crowded places.” 

Shigaraki scowled, “You can’t be serious.”

He looked back down to her brother, who pushed his hand further forward for emphasis. He looked just as unhappy about the situation, but he did know the rules.

With a childish little grumble from his throat — the type that would’ve been more characteristic for her brother to make — Shigaraki reached his own hand out awkwardly, fingers twitching and curling as he tried to figure out what to do with them. It was so uncomfortable she thought was going to pop a blood vessel trying not to laugh.

Luckily for Shigaraki, her brother knew the drill and spared him the further misery of overthinking. He clamped his little fist around two of Shigaraki’s fingers and yanked him forward with surprising force.

“H-Hey— ow, ” Shigaraki spat, almost stumbling as he was forced to walk bent at half his height.

He shot a delightfully murderous look back at her. But she just giggled and waved. He should’ve known he wasn’t getting off completely scott free from this fight. He deserved some payback.

And it totally didn’t make her heart flutter a little watching him interact with her baby brother — that’d be ridiculous.

Chapter Text

“Tomura-kun!” her father greeted a little too happily (re: kiss-assey) as Shigaraki was led to the deluxe little camp the family had set up in the bleachers, “My wife just told me you were here. What a nice surprise!”

“Yeah, I guess…” he pulled his hand free to rub at his neck. A freedom that the younger brother seemed more than happy to grant.

“Onee-chan said he has to sit with us since he doesn’t have any friends,” he said, crossing his arms.

“That’s not what she said!” Shigaraki snapped at him — probably a bit too harshly. But that only seemed to amuse the young boy more. It seemed that a desire to piss him off ran in the family.

“Don’t be rude,” her mother scolded with a light swat to the youngest child’s hand before turning back to Shigaraki with a smile, “We’d love it if you’d sit with us, Tomura.”

She patted the open spot next to her encouragingly.

“O-Okay. Thanks…” he bowed, quick and awkward, then moved to sit down as far away from her as possible while still on the blanket they’d laid out.

“Have you eaten anything?” she asked as he settled, taking him by surprise. 

If he was being honest, he thought for sure that the family would pretty much ignore him once he actually sat down. And if he was being even more honest, he would have preferred it that way. He was completely ill-prepared to answer a question as high-stakes as “have you eaten” right now.

“Tomura?”

He quickly realized that he was taking entirely too long to answer, “Uh—”

A loud grumble interrupted and startled them both. He was pretty sure he’d never blushed this hard in his life as her mother laughed sympathetically.

“I’d say that answers that,” she turned to pull a cooler bag into her lap, “What kind of onigiri do you like? Pickled plum, bonito flakes — ?”

“N-No, you don’t have to do that,” he waved his hands up at her and pointed back towards the entrance, “I’ll just grab something from the vending machine.”

“Don’t be silly! We always pack extra,” she insisted, opening up the bag, “And a growing boy like you needs a fresh breakfast!”

Shigaraki considered pointing out that at nineteen, he was actually done growing now, but the way she looked him in the eye left very little room to argue. So that was where her daughter had gotten that look…

He looked down to her insulated travel bag to get away from it and, true to her word, there was probably enough plastic-wrapped onigiri and snacks in that bag to feed the entire swim team. 

(When he thought critically about it, that was probably the reason why she had so much.)

And he’d be flat-out lying if he said it didn’t look delicious. He genuinely couldn’t remember the last time he’d had onigiri that wasn’t from a convenient store — had he ever, even? Kurogiri was nothing if not dedicated. Everything he cooked was a full, decadent meal — usually western. Quick and simple were not in his vocabulary. And each meal was always portioned out perfectly so as to never have any meaningful leftovers, nothing to make onigiri out of.

Of course, he knew that he could request anything he wanted to eat, that Kurogiri would be more than happy to make him onigiri if he asked. But then that would involve actually admitting that he was missing something in his life.

So buying stuff from the convenience store was just easier.

“...do you have salmon?” he finally muttered.

“Oh, tons!” she smiled, pulling one of the rice balls right from the top and handing it to him, “That’s my daughter’s favorite flavor too.”

The onigiri slipped a little in his hand at that, earning a knowing smirk from her mother. He kicked himself internally — what a stupid fucking thing to be so happy about. Who cared if she liked salmon? It’s not like that meant anything, it was the best flavor after all. She’d be stupid if she didn’t . Right?

…Ugh. This was going to be a long day.

“Heat sheets are here!” Nejire announced as she entered the locker room, “Please remember to be by your block at least two events before yours.”

Nejire gave her relay partner a playful nudge as she handed her a sheet, still hot from the printer, “We’re starting strong.”

She cocked a brow at Nejire, but her friend was already making her way down the row to pass out more heat sheets and encouragements. She glanced down at the list and frowned.

The hundred yard breaststroke was first, right out the gate. And not only that, she was in the lane right next to Asui.

Fuuuuuck . This was actually the worst case scenario.

A clatter next to her suddenly pulled her attention. She glanced over at Uraraka, flustered and looking down at the contents of her gym bag spilled out onto the floor.

“Oh crap,” she muttered, dropping to her knees to put it all back. Only to let a pair of spare goggles slip through shaky hands, “Crap, crap, crap...”

“You okay?”

Uraraka snapped to her, startled by the question. She recovered quickly though, turning back to her things with an anxious smile.

“Y-Yeah! Just nervous I guess,” Uraraka answered, “Those recruiters sure add a lot of pressure, huh?”

“Yeah, no kidding,” she agreed, turning back to her own locker and stewing. She figured that was the end of the conversation. 

But then Uraraka just kept on talking.

“Do you have any advice?”

“Huh?” she looked back at the freshman, who stared at her with a genuine, sparkling admiration that was just short of annoying.

She was sympathetic to Uraraka’s plight of course, baby’s first high school meet and all. But to be quite honest, she’d only really asked about her well-being to be polite. Maybe to offer to grab her a water bottle or help her put her things back — surface levels of emotional commitment. She wasn’t exactly trying to start a whole conversation here. She had her own shit to worry about.

“You know, on how to get past the nerves?”

Her brows furrowed, “Didn’t you swim in middle school too? It’s not like this is new for you.”

“No, but this is the first year I’m eligible to be contacted by recruiters. It’s a lot of pressure, you know?”

Aaaaaand now she was annoyed. Because of course she knew. She knew way too freaking well. Mirio, Nejire, and Amajiki had all been in serious talks with colleges for the last year. She herself had gotten one or two phone calls and a home visit her freshman year, but it had all turned to crickets pretty quickly— no real not -offers (wink-wink, nudge-nudge). Their interest in her had died out when they found other freshman candidates they thought would be more worth the three years of recruiting resources. Candidates like Tsuyu Asui and, if she was being totally honest, Ochako Uraraka.

Yes, Asui was the major wunderkind of the freshman class, but Uraraka was certainly nothing to sneeze at either. She’d placed on the podium in more than her fair share of middle school tournaments. So why the fuck was she asking her for advice? These freshmen were practically amphibious.

In retrospect, she kind of regretted the words she ended up saying to Uraraka. They came exclusively from a place of stress and bitterness. Of having too much on her mind and too little of that being how to be a good upperclassman. She felt like shit when she realized just what exactly she had done with her words, even more so considering how much she herself ended up personally benefiting from them.

Because Uraraka was actually a lot like she was as a freshman — someone with big dreams and raw talent, but who worried too much about other people to actually seize her own opportunities. A girl already drowning under self-imposed family pressure.

And rather than throwing the girl a lifeline, she just piled on another wave.

“There isn’t really any advice to give. You either swim or you don’t swim — the recruiters don’t care either way,” she threw her own locker door closed, “We only have so many chances here, so you’ve just gotta make the most of them.”

Admittedly, Shigaraki had not been to many sporting events in his life. Just a few overly-formal golf and polo tournaments that Sensei had dragged him to. The kind attended by celebrities and international dignitaries, with national anthems performed by the Self-Defense Force Music Corps. Absurd amounts of grandeur he usually tried to hide from in a corner of their private suite with a handheld.

So maybe his expectations were a tad skewed. That being said, he’d expected at least a little more pomp and circumstance here — a welcome announcement at least? But the meet just kind of started. If it hadn’t been for her dad, Shigaraki wouldn’t have even realized that she was walking out to start the first race.

“There she is, lane three.”

Shigaraki followed where he pointed, looking down the line until he saw her standing at the block, adjusting the back of her cap over her goggle strap, and scowled almost immediately. He genuinely never thought that there was a swimsuit on earth that a woman didn’t look sexy in — but damn if that navy blue tech suit and swim cap combo wasn’t proving him wrong. 

He was already formulating the very snarky earful he’d give her after her race, when a clear long whistle blew, and something in her form shifted in a way that silenced his brain instantly.

Any nerves or emotions he’d seen that morning, had seen in their entire relationship in fact, were gone in an instant — shed onto the concrete as she stepped onto the block with instinctual ease. He’d never seen her so focussed or intense.

She knelt into her start position — the lock of her arms flexing and flattering a musculature in her shoulders he’d absolutely never paid attention to (his interests lying far more in her lower assets), but that he couldn’t deny was absolutely beautiful. She leaned so far over the water without any sign of tipping, that it had Shigaraki realizing that he’d genuinely never seen her trip or lose her balance in any way.

This girl was undeniably an athlete.

Her hips pulled back slightly as she heard something he couldn’t from this far away. Then there was a beep and she launched.

Now, Shigaraki had seen her watch a few clips from Olympic trials on her phone here and there, gotten a decent idea of which stroke breast was. He’d always thought it was one that looked particularly stupid. The bobbing and the huffing and the splashing — a stroke that made some of the most beautiful, graceful people in the world look like a bunch of frantic, floppy seals.

But for some reason, she didn’t look like that. Her dips and her breaks were so fluid and graceful — she barely even seemed to submerge between strokes, almost gliding across the water. 

A bit of residual embarrassment from the waterpark resurfaced suddenly. She’d spent over an hour just trying to teach him how to kick at the hip instead of the knee, when her normal swim time was spent looking like this? He must’ve looked like an actual idiot in comparison. And yet, she had been so genuinely excited and congratulatory when he finally got it. Like he had just won big at a meet himself.

So this was the moment she was always chasing, huh? The reason she did all that she did? He had to admit, seeing it— no, seeing her — now, made him actually understand it all for a moment. He couldn’t take his eyes off her.

It did not go unnoticed. 

Lost in it all, Shigaraki didn’t catch the moment that her mom and brother left the stands to go pass out onigiri to the rest of the team, didn’t realize that he was alone with her father until he spoke.

“Tomura.”

Shigaraki turned to her father, not expecting to be met with such a set of uncharacteristically stern eyes.

“Is there something going on between you and my daughter?”

His breath hitched. 

Shit.

“...W-What do you mean?”

“Come on, kid. You know what I mean.”

He winced — Shigaraki did know what he meant. Do you have a crush? Are you seeing each other? At the very worst, her father could potentially be asking if they were fooling around — dumb and innocent. Consensual. There was no way he could’ve figured out anything close to the reality.

So the answer was complicated. Yes and no. There absolutely was something going on between them, but what he could actually tell the man was still up for debate.

There was a side of him that saw the opportunity in this — the selfish, tempestuous, and conniving side. He could tell her father that they were dating. He knew what a slave she was for the approval of her family, so there was a better than average chance that she’d go along with the lie to keep the peace. And it’d undoubtedly put even more pressure on her to dump that meathead boyfriend of hers. 

Would it bring her any closer to having actual feelings or devotion to him? Probably not. It’d more than likely drive her further away emotionally, honestly. But what did that matter when it would make her belong to him even more in every other way? It would probably be for the better even. No feelings equaled no sentiment. A win-win situation for him.

It was a choice he never would’ve given a second thought over a couple months ago — he would’ve just done it. But there was a tightening in his stomach now that made him abandon the thought almost as soon as it came. He decided to attribute it to his gut, his better judgment. 

Even though it probably was something else.

“No,” he finally answered. Her father’s probing look didn’t yield though, so he added, “She… She has a boyfriend.”

“Yes, Mirio,” he nodded, acknowledging, “He’s a nice young man. Haven’t seen him at the house in a while though.”

Shigaraki tried to keep his surprise buried. He tried to force the little ripple of joy in his chest even deeper. But damn, he couldn’t help but wonder if maybe there was a reason for why she wasn’t bringing him around. 

And so, he had a really hard time keeping the smile from his voice when he asked, “...Really?”

A detail that, once again, did not go unnoticed.

“Tomura, listen…” her father rubbed the back of his head, trying to figure out how to word his next statement, “I’m going to say something that I know could potentially offend you. I hope it doesn’t. I don’t mean anything against you personally with it, but I feel like I need to say it, regardless.”

Shigaraki turned to him, brow cocked. What could he possibly have to say that would require that kind of qualification?

“I made a mistake when I got my daughter involved with you.”

His stomach dropped. 

Whatever he’d expected her father to say, it certainly hadn’t been that. 

“She never should’ve been a factor in the advancement of my career,” he continued, “I never should’ve forced this situation on her. On either of you in fact—”

“So what are you trying to say?” Shigaraki almost growled, “Are you telling me to back off?” 

It was taking everything in his willpower to not completely blow up on the man right now. And honestly, he wasn’t safe from it yet. That would depend entirely on his answer.

“No, no, no — of course not!” he assured quickly, throwing his hands up, pacifying, “It’s obvious that you two care about each other, and of course I’m grateful for everything you’ve done for her, it’s just that…”

He sighed, realizing that he was getting off track. He really just needed to come out and say it, as much as it pained him, “Look, I… I’ve been working closely with your father these last couple months. I know the kind of games he plays now. And I just don’t want her involved with them. She deserves better than that,” he turned to Shigaraki with finality, “She deserves to be happy.”

The statement was straightforward, if not multi-purposed. He was trying to figure out where Shigaraki stood in regards to all of this. He was trying to ask him to protect her. But there was an underlying message that rang the loudest above all else. He didn’t want her in this for the long-haul, didn’t want this to be her life.

He didn’t want his daughter to date Tomura Shigaraki.

The man was more intuitive than Shigaraki gave him credit for. He knew that something wasn’t quite right about this situation, he knew that it was his own fault, and he wanted to rectify. He was being strategic too, starting small with Tomura directly, minimizing casualties. Trying to fix it from within, from a place where he could keep on his current path without so much as a bump in the road.

But it was also obvious that bumps weren’t out of the question for him. This family cared about each other in a way that Shigaraki could never comprehend, the kind that made his head fuzzy and his stomach spin. In a “stay up all night to make onigiri for your daughter’s teammates” type of way. 

A self-sacrificing way.

He had to give her father serious credit though. The bastard was playing the very game he was trying to keep her from, and he was playing it well. But that didn’t mean he wouldn’t walk away from it. Shigaraki could see it in his eyes.

This guy wasn’t afraid to quit if he had to.

Shigaraki excused himself soon after. Her father tried to move on and make small talk about school and the company and even video games, clearly overcompensating for just how severely his confrontation had dampened the fun, supportive atmosphere his wife had established. But it was too late by that point. Shigaraki needed to get out of there for a while.

He didn’t know where he was going. He considered leaving altogether if not to just explore the quiet of the host school’s campus and clear his head, but ultimately he decided to just take a slow lap around the pool deck. He figured that walking out the front gate in any capacity would cause more drama than it was worth — could potentially make it seem like he left the meet altogether and raise questions from her if she went back to the family between events.

Of course, that ended up being a moot point, since she didn’t .

No, to his surprise, she actually went straight from her cooldown lap to stand with her team on the sidelines. She yelled and whooped and chanted names and school cheers with just as much fervor and pep as the rest of them. She hurried to the starting block with other girls in her class to help freshmen out of the pool and pat their backs encouragingly. She doubled over laughing — genuinely laughing, nothing fake about it — as a teammate told her a joke, quick to snap her towel at them when they turned their back.

For what was too many times that day, Shigaraki found himself remembering why he’d had to use deception and threats to get her into his bed in the first place. She was popular for a reason, and as much as he tried to convince her and himself otherwise, it was not all for show. She was completely out of his league in almost every way. Beautiful and talented, approachable, supportive, and fun to be around — people were just drawn to her. 

He could never be like that.

“Well, isn’t this a surprise?”

Shigaraki stopped in his tracks, completely jarred by the very last voice he’d expect to hear right now. Not to mention the last one he’d want to hear.

He turned towards it, vexed red eyes meeting smug crystal blue.

There, leaning way too comfortably against the wall next to the concessions stand, was fucking Dabi.

“What the hell are you doing here?” 

“I should be asking you that. Are you even allowed to be near a school?”

“Fuck off, patchwork,” Shigaraki snapped, “Don’t you have fake Adderall to sell?”

“Why, do you know someone who’d be interested?” Dabi grinned, earning an extremely unimpressed look, “Oh come on , man. Act that serious, and I’m gonna start thinking you actually are here to just be a creep.”

“I’m here to watch someone.”

“I bet you are.”

“No, I—” Shigaraki huffed, realizing just how much he was taking the bait. He scratched at the bandages on his neck in frustration. Even on a good day he had very little tolerance for Dabi, and today was undoubtedly trending in the direction of not a good day. 

He decided then and there that he didn’t give a shit as to why Dabi was here — more likely than not it was just some weird act of rebellion against his Dad. And he didn’t need any of that right now.

“Whatever ,” he waved off and turned away — now deliberating just what calming walk he’d need to take to recover from this failed calming walk. 

“So should I tell my Pops that we came together?”

Shigaraki froze.

“Or do you already have a different cover?” Dabi continued to taunt, “I’m sure the President wouldn’t be too thrilled by you spending all this extra time with that little plaything he got you.”

Shigaraki turned back to him, poker face drawn.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Oh man, you suck at this,” Dabi laughed, “Come on. It’s not like it’s a big secret with how much you wave around those pictures and stories to Iguchi in class, right?”

Shigaraki just stared at him, trying to push a deadpan long enough for Dabi to second guess himself and find a new hypothesis. But that silence instead spoke volumes.

“That’s what I thought,” Dabi started to look around like a kid in a candy store, “So which one is she? Couldn’t see the face in those pictures, but I bet I can make a good guess based on the tits—”

“What do you want?” Shigaraki finally snapped, not wanting to give him the chance to guess correctly.

There was honestly no point in trying to kick Dabi into the long grass — any denial or misdirection Shigaraki tried to put forward would only work to his detriment now, just confirming that he had something to hide while removing any foothold he might have in managing the situation. He needed to just work with what he had. 

But first he had to figure out exactly what that was.

“Want? Oh come on, have some faith. Members of the Deadbeat Dad club gotta stick together, right?”

Shigaraki just stared at him — deadpan legitimate this time. He wasn’t buying it for a second.

And so, Dabi finally gave it to him straight, “Alright, fine. I’ll be telling Enji that I saw you no matter what, today. I could tell him it was a coincidence. Let him and Shigaraki-sama draw their own conclusions at their next luncheon. Or I could tell him that you came to keep me company while Shoto competed.”

“And?”

“And?” Dabi tilted his head, mockingly innocent, “And what ? I see it as a networking opportunity. One the old geezers have been pushing on us for a decade.”

“Stop bullshitting me. There’s no such thing as a free lunch,” Shigaraki growled, “Especially not with you. So spit it out already.”

Dabi shook his head with a chuckle, pushing off the wall in a way that was obviously supposed to convey some kind of exasperated nonchalance. But the amusement in his voice was too palpable. Shigaraki could see that opportunistic sadism from a mile away.

It was, unfortunately , one of the many things he and that human ashtray had in common.

“No really, I can’t think of anything at the moment.”

He purposely knocked his shoulder into Shigaraki’s as he passed, almost purring :

“Let’s just say, I like the idea of you owing me.”

“Let’s gooo — Let’s go, let’s go, let’s go, Mirio!”

Her boyfriend was swimming. She should’ve probably been cheering him on along with the team — definitely should’ve been watching him at the very least. But she just couldn’t pull her head out of her hands right now. It felt like if she tried to lift it even a little bit, her neck would finally give in to all the pressure piling on top of it and snap.

Today was just a disaster. Not only was she positioned directly next to Asui for both of her breaststroke events, but she’d gotten so in her own head during the IM that she came off the block late. The one event she could’ve actually stood out in, completely botched.

She couldn’t decide which was worse — the recruiters seeing this, or Tomura Shigaraki.

A particularly loud chorus of shrieks and cheers pulled her attention. She peered up enough to see the “1” in front of Mirio’s name on the scoreboard. To see him cheering and slapping the water excitedly.

This was bad. She should’ve been happy. Or maybe she should’ve been jealous. At the very least, she should’ve felt something. But she didn’t. She didn’t feel a goddamn thing.

And that’s when she saw Shigaraki.

He seemed to be walking back to her family from somewhere — bathroom maybe — and before he even sat down, was already having at least three onigiris shoved into his hands by her mother. 

She couldn’t help but chuckle. She’d had a feeling that as soon as her mom got Shigaraki alone she’d end up force-feeding him — she’d eyed those knobby fingers and toothpick legs of his for far too long during all their interactions. But still, actually seeing it happen was pretty endearing.

Whether he could feel her gaze, or was just looking for help in the general vicinity, Shigaraki’s eyes darted across the pool deck, locking with her own. They were embarrassed, clueless, pleading. 

Honestly, she was kind of shocked that he’d lasted this long. She definitely thought he’d, at the very most, just catch the first race and duck out with nothing more than a text message that she wouldn’t see until well after the meet. Yet here he was, mere moments away from having a custom t-shirt shoved over his head and salmon roe stuffed into his mouth.

She wondered if he was just staying out of politeness at this point, trying to score some brownie points with her and prove himself. But then she remembered the words he always said.

“I’ll do what I want.”

That’s right. He always did what he wanted — nothing more, nothing less. And if he didn’t want to be here, he sure as fuck wouldn’t be here. The thought made her a little (annoyingly) happy, but it also twisted her chest in a really gnawing way.

After all, wasn’t she telling herself that she was going to do the same thing for herself just a week ago? Just before Shigaraki saw that message and everything went to hell?

She watched as Shigaraki turned back, his attention pulled to her little brother waving his switch console in the older boy’s face. If she had to guess, her brother was probably asking (or more likely, demanding) him to play an unlocking match for him on Smash. It was something he asked her to do often. The boss fights were just a little too hard for him and he didn’t want to risk losing a character, so he’d usually come running into her bedroom and shoving the console into her hands, just to rip it back and run out the second she won without so much as a please or thank you. 

It was a practice that ranged from mildly amusing to majorly obnoxious even for her, and Shigaraki was clearly already on that latter side of the tolerance spectrum just as a base level.

And yet, Shigaraki took the console from him and planted himself down on the bleachers with little more than a huff and an eyeroll. Even as her brother hung off his shoulders, jumping and pointing, screaming at him to “kill him, kill him, kill him!” Shigaraki barely even flinched.

She had a hard time fanning away the warmth it brought to her belly.

“Your things… matter to me.”

That’s what he had said. And watching him like this, it was more obvious than ever that he meant it. It had been, genuinely, the worst almost-apology she’d ever heard in her life. But it was also more vulnerable than she’d ever expected to see him. 

Tomura Shigaraki was changing before her eyes. Growing . And what was she doing? Sitting on the sidelines, waiting for everything to make sense and fit around her. 

Just like always.

“Medley’s coming up!” Nejire skipped over to her and the freshman girls who had parked themselves on each side of her, “You ready ladies?”

Uraraka and Asui cheered back, sufficiently pepped. But as for the fourth member of their relay team…

“Hey, Nejire? I have a favor to ask.”

Shigaraki was about ready to drown this kid.

“Why do you hold the controller like that?”

“I just do.”

“Does it make it easier?” 

“Do you want me to answer or do you want me to unlock this character for you?” 

“I want both .”

“Don’t you all ,” Shigaraki muttered bitterly as he handed the kid his switch back, roster now one Toon Link fuller.

“Hey, stop pestering him,” her mother scolded, pulling the console from her son’s hand just as fast as he received it. 

“But Mom— ”

“Nuh-uh, your sister’s last event is coming up, you can live without the screen for five minutes,” she turned to Shigaraki with a sympathetic smile, “Sorry, Tomura. You’ve been a really great sport today.”

He just grunted and turned back to watch her daughter cross the pool deck with her relay team. Hell yeah he’d been a good sport, a better sport then he ever thought he’d have the tolerance or desire to be in his lifetime. So he really didn’t have any sportsmanship or patience left to give a proper response. That had all burnt up in his conversation with Dabi.

Today just needed to be fucking over already.

There was a long whistle and the first row of girls dropped into the water — a pink-cheeked brunette being the one in her lane.

“I thought onee-chan was doing backstroke for this,” her brother muttered with a grumpy pout that gave Shigaraki a run for his money.

“That’s what she said…” her father almost asked, pulling out his phone to recheck the heat sheet he’d taken a picture of.

Shigaraki didn’t think much into it, personally. It’s not like it really mattered what she swam, just so long as she swam it fast and he could go home. So he just continued to watch her lane instead.

The brunette starter was nervous, disproportionately so. She talked up to the other girls with clear concern-bordering-panic on her face, right up until the set whistle and the other girls were already pulling up onto the backstroke bars. 

The referees ended up needing to reset the whistle start for her. And even then, when the race finally started, she pushed off the wall late. 

Really late.

So late in fact, that even that prodigy Asui and the senior he vaguely recognized as the girl’s team’s captain, only managed to close the gap trailing fourth place. 

Then it was her turn. 

She passed the starter who’d been sobbing guiltily in her arms over to the other freshman and stepped onto the block. She bounced on her heels, shook out her hands, and looked across the water.

Right at Shigaraki.

He blinked. Even though he couldn’t see her eyes through the amber tint of her goggles, he could feel them staring straight at him. He wondered why the fuck she’d be looking at him right now — didn’t she have more important things to focus on as her teammate cleared the halfway point of the pool? Why now, after barely sparing him a glance all day, was she staring at him like he was the only person in the world?

Shigaraki’s confusion must’ve been very visible, because she shook her head with a little laugh when she saw it. Then she turned back to the water, laser focussed on her teammate crossing the 15-meter threshold.

Suddenly, effortlessly — arms swinging winglike, legs pushing off with a force that rocked the starting block — she flew. A flawless exchange — one these two had perfected over three years. And then it was history.

For someone who’d called herself a jack of all trades and master of none, she sure swam freestyle like it was her main event. She sliced through the water with speed and grace, steadily but swiftly axing the gaps between fourth and third, third and second, second and first.

Until she was slapping the wall in what seemed to be a tie with the leading swimmer, but that the scoreboard assigned as first place.

Barely a second after she finished, her teammates were pulling her up and out of the water by her arms, shrieking and squeezing and all but singing “For He’s a Jolly Good Fellow”. She beamed and hyped them right back, letting the quickly growing flock of teammates throw her up onto their shoulders before she could even catch her breath. It was complete chaos and reverie anybody would get caught up in.

But she still looked back at Shigaraki one more time throughout it.

She didn’t rejoin Shigaraki and her family right away, completely swept up in the rumpuses and rowdiness with the rest of her team. She’d finally managed to break away from the chaos when a man in Toyo gear had intercepted her.

“That was quite the unexpected showing out there.”

“Oh! Uh, thank you, sir…”

Shigaraki was pretty at the end of his rope at this point. Not only had he had to make up with her, get a lecture from her father, and endure a whatever the fuck that was with Dabi, he was far from thrilled to be waiting for her with her family like a damn groupie.

Especially when she was talking to a recruiter who was very much not from Todai.

“Will you be doing more freestyle in your next meet?”

“Actually, I’m planning to update my fly and back times. I’m thinking of entering the long distance event at the qualifier in March too.”

“An all-arounder, huh? We could certainly use some more of those at Toyo…”

She looked back apologetically as the recruiter continued, mouthing a small “sorry!” when she saw Shigaraki’s cross-armed stewing. The gesture was enough to alleviate a little of his irritation, even allowing some room for a bit of pride at the fact that she was actually trying to get over to him.

This was fine, he reminded himself. She was just doing that stupid due diligence she always insisted on. She wasn’t avoiding him. She wasn’t keeping him waiting. She wasn’t considering different schools. She wasn’t—

“Sweetie, that was incredible!” her mother squealed, pulling her into a tight hug before Shigaraki had even realized she was running over.

She shrugged politely, “Not my best showing, but at least I finished strong.”

“You’ve still got a whole season to go, Peanut. Don’t you worry,” her father grinned, ruffling her hair.

She turned to Shigaraki and scowled almost immediately — which was by no means the praise or gratitude he was expecting to receive for sticking around all day. He was about to bark about it when she reached forward and swept away a grain of rice that was stuck to his lip. 

Luckily, she turned to her mom before she could see the bright flush that surged across his cheeks.

“Jeez, Mom, did you feed him his weight in onigiri today or something?”

“Not like that’d be hard,” her brother taunted, earning a glare from both of the adolescents.

“Hey ,” her father gestured between the youngest and their bleacher set-up, “Enough with the smart mouth, and come help clean up.”

She watched as her little brother dragged his feet away with a chuckle before turning back to Shigaraki, “Not too miserable today, I hope.”

“N-No, actually. It was…” he looked away to try and hide the remnants of his blush, “... You were… pretty good…”

She cocked a brow, waiting for him to add some little quip or neg to the end of that. But he only flicked back anxiously, his neck starting to itch and heat up all over again under her expectant stare.

“What? ” he demanded.

She threw her hands up in playful surrender, “Nothing! Nothing at all!”

He scowled, now waiting for her to throw some sort of venom back at him.

“I’m serious! I’m glad you had a good time.”

“...I wouldn’t go that far.”

She rolled her eyes, “Well then, thank you for enduring,” and glanced down to her feet with a shyness that would have her kicking herself all night when she thought back to it, “I’m… glad you came.”

His eyes widened. There was a lot of weight to that statement, the type that left him feeling, ironically, weightless. He wondered if she knew just exactly what she was implying with it.

“Y-Yeah?” he breathed.

But she was smart. She knew exactly what she was saying, and what he was reading into it. Yet, she still looked up at him and repeated with a smile, “Yeah.”

Okay, maybe this day wasn’t so bad. Was it the most mundanely miserable day of his life? Without a doubt. Did it do anything to ensure a future for the two of them in the grand scheme of things? Not especially. If anything — between her father and Dabi — it had actually thrown even more roadblocks in their way. But he couldn’t care less about any of that right now. 

Because the warmth was back. 

The warmth that made him feel full and at ease, like he could take on the world and also get a good night’s sleep. The warmth that he thought he’d never feel again when she walked out his bedroom door. Having the chance to feel that even just one more time made everything that happened today seem worth it—

“Onii-chan!” her younger brother suddenly shouted excitedly, shoving past him.

Without even thinking, Shigaraki’s gaze was following the kid’s trail, but he immediately really wished it hadn’t.

Because as soon as he saw where he was running, his blood ran cold. A vague suspicion that had been nagging in the back of his mind since he first heard the kid mention an “onii-chan” was suddenly proved horribly right.

Mirio Togata was coming their way.

Chapter Text

“Onii-chan!”

Mirio’s face lit up, “Hey kiddo!”

Her brother didn’t even need to ask to be lifted, as soon as Mirio saw the seven-year-old barreling towards him, he was already kneeling down with his arms outstretched, yelling, “Alright, who’s ready to fly?!”

The boy leaped into his arms, and despite having just swam a meet that he’d finished almost exclusively on the podium in, Mirio caught him effortlessly and swung him around and behind his torso like a Globetrotter. He finished the trick shot by settling the boy on his hip with one arm, keeping the other free to do an elaborate secret handshake.

Because of course they had a secret fucking handshake.

“Mirio-kun!” her mother greeted happily, “Great job today! Are you hungry? I’ve got plenty of pickled plum for you!”

Shigaraki snapped to her mom, childish betrayal flaring in his eyes as she opened up the cooler for Mirio. Cheating bitch was at the forefront of his mind. Luckily, nobody but her daughter saw it, and she promptly gave him a gentle but firm warning in the form of a light swat to the arm.

“Ooh, thanks, Okaa-san— but I’m okay!” he chirped right back.

Shigaraki’s jaw locked even tighter at that. He had legitimately never wanted to punch someone so much in his life. And he’d broken noses before.

She looked back and forth between the boys nervously. Shigaraki’s murderous intent was almost as palpable as her boyfriend’s beaming joy. She had no idea what to say in this situation, even less idea what to do. She was already trying to think three steps ahead into damage control mode. Because this was going to be a disaster — that part was inevitable. She could only try and figure out how to pick up the pieces of this situation and assemble something even remotely salvageable out of it. Even with that low bar however, prospects were not looking good.

Especially not when Mirio planted a painfully casual kiss on her cheek, like he’d done it a hundred times already… which he had.

“Was that a Toyo recruiter, babe?” he asked as he pulled away. She could practically hear Shigaraki bristle at the word “babe”.

“O-Oh yeah,” she answered, “It was nothing serious, but he did give me his card so we could set up a phone call.”

Shigaraki snapped to her. Hold on a second, the conversation with the recruiter had gone that far? He’d thought that she just smiled and nodded and politely told him to go pound sand. She couldn’t actually be considering it, could she?

“Mirio, you’re committed to Toyo aren’t you?” her Dad asked.

He grinned, “Sure am!”

“Well, that wouldn’t be a bad deal for you two, if she got a scholarship, would it?”

The idea that she’d go to a different school had never crossed Shigaraki’s mind, not even once. Her grades and test scores were never a barrier to entry. And if by some weird act of God or bureaucracy she didn’t get in? Well, he’d fought and worked with those particular forces more than his fair share of times and he’d do it again.

She was always going to end up at Todai with him.

It’s not like he had a specific vision for the future together or even a plan for what would happen when she got there. He’d never had to. She would just be there with him and then all of this pretense — Mirio, her popularity, her parents – all of this bullshit wouldn’t matter anymore. They’d be there together and everything would just work itself out. It’d all finally be easy.

But if she went to a different college? And the college that her boyfriend went to? There was nothing fucking easy about that. She’d have even less reason to break up with Mirio. 

And even less reason to see him .

The very thought of it had every inch of his skin crawling. It didn’t help that the two of them looked fucking perfect together. He’d heard people say that about couples before and never really got what it meant. It always sounded dumb at best and disgusting at worst. Like what, did they look like each other or something? Or was it some cheesy aesthetic bullshit? Couldn’t anybody look good together then if they got all matchy-matchy?

“Aww, that’d be great!” Mirio grinned, hooking an arm around his girlfriend’s waist and pulling her to his free hip, “But my girl’s a shoe-in for Todai — no doubt!”

“O-Oh come on, I wouldn’t say that…'' she laughed and patted Mirio’s chest politely.

…But seeing them like this? Athletic, beautiful, confident and not to mention remarkably put-together. Especially compared to him, who’d barely even managed to find a hoodie without a hole in it this morning despite easily being able afford whatever and whenever brand he wanted—

Well, suffice it to say he got it now. Painfully. And the sight of the two of them standing arm and arm together with a child made him want to throw up. He couldn’t keep his fingers off his neck any longer.

“Come on, tell her Shigaraki-kun!” Mirio said, snapping him out of his thoughts.

“H-Huh?”

“That she’s a shoe-in!” Mirio repeated, finally setting her brother down so that he could help the parents pack up, “You’ve gotta know better than anyone, right? Considering how much you’ve been helping her?”

Shigaraki turned to her, surprise clear on his face. He’d expected that she’d kept basically everything about him and their relationship under tight wraps from Mirio — but was she actually talking about him?

“H-He doesn’t help me that much,” she stammered, a soft but clear blush rising up her cheeks, “Just some tutoring here and there!”

“Come on, sweetie— you just said it the other day,” he reminded, “ Nobody had been able to explain infinite series like Shigaraki!”

Shigaraki cocked a brow. So, she did talk about him. And yet she’d never talked to him about Mirio. Interesting. 

Very interesting.

That light dusting roared to a hot red across her whole face, “I did not use a superlative.”

“Why sweetie, I’m flattered,” Shigaraki smirked.

She snapped, steam practically puffing out of her ears, “Don’t you even start!”

Mirio cut in suddenly with a laugh, “Oh man, it’s great how close you guys have gotten.”

They whipped back to him in surprise, almost forgetting he was there for a second.

“N-No really,” she insisted, “We’re not—”

“Babe, I’m not saying it to be weird or anything. I really do think it’s great,” he turned to Shigaraki then, smile flattening a bit, tinted with melancholy, “If I’m being totally honest, I’ve felt pretty guilty about you for a while.”

Shigaraki and her blinked.

“ Y-You feel guilty?” she asked.

“Well yeah,” he rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly, “Of course I’d heard the rumors about you and always saw you by yourself at school. I thought a lot about talking to you or inviting you to sit with us at lunch or something, but I don’t know. You were a grade above us and I just got so wrapped up in my own stuff, not that that’s an excuse—”

He waved himself off, feeling the familiar slip into a tangent, “—anyway, I guess what I’m saying, is that I’m glad someone finally reached out.” He smiled at her then, “And I think my girlfriend was probably the right person to do it.”

She stared at him in disbelief. The actual joy, the genuine gratitude in his expression. He had no idea what was going on at all, did he? 

Shigaraki was just as floored. He’d never given Mirio Togata a single thought until he’d gotten involved with the guy’s girlfriend — not one. And yet, Mirio had been agonizing over what? Letting him eat lunch alone? Not including him in a group he’d never in a thousand years be a part of? Like they were in kindergarten and he was sitting alone making sandcastles while everyone else was singing kumbaya on the monkey bars? Could a person actually be that pure? That dumb ?

He was starting to understand why she was having such a hard time breaking up with the guy. It’d be like kicking a puppy.

And for some reason that only made him a little angrier. And more embarrassed.

“I probably would’ve just annoyed you if I’d gone up and talked to you, huh?” Mirio laughed, rubbing the back of his head.

“Yeah, probably…” Shigaraki muttered, looking away with a light blush of his own.

“Alright kids, we’re heading out,” her Mom announced as her family re-approached, packed and ready to go, “Do you two need a ride to the restaurant?”

“No, no— it’s just around the corner,” Mirio insisted, “We’ll be fine.”

“Sure thing!” she turned to Shigaraki, “Do you need a ride home, Tomura-kun? These two are going to head to their team dinner.”

Shigaraki just stared at her, taken aback. He wasn’t sure what he’d been expecting. It’s not like they were going to go home together after this. Even if Mirio wasn’t here, she’d undoubtedly head home with her parents, especially considering the conversation he’d had with her father prior. As much as he willed it internally, make-up sex was not in the cards for them today, if ever (but he’d put a pin in accepting that for later).

And yet he couldn’t help the soreness of disappointment that hit him like a chair to the back. There was a part of him that couldn’t bear to watch Mirio and her walk away together. Especially not from the backseat of her parents’ car like he was just another supply in their meet bag. Or worse, like he was her brother .

Luckily, the disappointment didn’t last long.

Mirio turned to his girlfriend and her guest, a brilliant idea popping bright into his head, “You should come with us Shigaraki-kun!”

They snapped back to him, equally startled by the suggestion.

“A-Are you sure?” she asked, practically begging him to change his mind. But Mirio wasn’t even looking at her anymore. He was locked right onto Shigaraki.

“Yeah, why not? We rented out the whole dining room, there’s more than enough space!” he beamed, “What do you say?!”

What did he say? Going out to eat with a bunch of popular, high school jocks he barely knew and who would be less than thrilled to see him there? It sounded fucking terrible. The type of invite he’d never think twice about turning down — one he thought he’d never have to worry about receiving at all. He didn’t want to go.

…but he wanted to go home alone even less.

Mirio called it a dinner, but in reality it was only about noon by the time they arrived at the modern little Chinese restaurant the team had rented out. Shigaraki had hoped it would be a quick get in, get food, get out situation. But of course it wasn’t that easy. It never was. 

The place was set up for an experience, a buffet that started with non-alcoholic drinks and appetizers, a music playlist and sense of maneuverability that had this “dinner” looking more like a party by the second.

And, unfortunately, people had the annoying little tendency to talk at parties.

“What was that guy’s name again?”

“I think it was Shigaraki.”

“Wait. That Shigaraki? The one that—?”

“—yeah.”

“Eww, what’s he even doing here?!”

Making a mistake, that’s what Tomura Shigaraki was doing here. 

He should’ve just gone home. Would he have been completely depressed and full of self-loathing having to return to his bedroom alone again after watching her walk away with her perfect little boyfriend? Of course. But at least he was used to that feeling. He was a goddamn Olympic gold medalist in hating himself at this point. But going to what was essentially a high school party? 

That was a whole new fucking ballgame.

It’s not like he was a complete stranger to parties. Sensei had dragged him to more corporate events and charity galas then he could count, but those were totally different. It didn’t matter how he looked or acted there. He was the President’s “son”, he could show up in a stained hoodie and holey sneakers and tell the CFO to go fuck himself — the dregs would still bend over backwards to try and make him happy. (In fact, he’d be lying if he said that hadn’t happened at the most recent event). Plus most of the time he could just skip or sneak off to a corner to mess around on his handheld anyway, he had literally no reason to worry about anything or anyone.

Here though? He was hyper aware of EVERYTHING. Every side glance, every whisper, every time someone slowed down near his table or sped up to get past it. He could feel it all. And he was not a fan.

It was weird, he hadn’t even felt this exposed and scrutinized when he was actually in high school. At least back then, even if people gave him weird looks or hushed whispers when he crossed them in the hall, it was always just a quick moment of discomfort or another drop in the rumor bucket. Nobody wondered why he was there or what he was doing. He was just a part of it all — peripheral. 

Here, he stuck out like a sore thumb. And what was worse was that he actually gave a fuck now. He’d never cared about the opinion of these waterlogged jocks before, and on a personal level he still didn’t. No, what had him digging his fingernails into the table instead of his neck to try and keep up an appearance of normality was the her of the situation. 

If they didn’t like him and then brought their opinions back to her, or if he did something to taint her reputation by being associated with him? Well, he had actually meant a few of the things he’d said during their fight last week — she did care way too much about what other people thought of her. And this new version of their relationship right now was still way too fragile and fresh for him to assume that it could withstand something like that. 

And the fact that he was sitting alone through all this certainly wasn’t convincing him otherwise.

That was the real kicker. He was enduring all this while still just having to watch her flit and flaunt around in that effortlessly shiny way that he never could. Every smile that she flashed, every giggle that she gave, all so fluid and familiar that it had him realizing that maybe this life she’d built for herself wasn’t completely fake. Those were smiles that he’d seen, genuine ones. And she was throwing them out left and right. It made him want to peel his skin off.

Well, at least she wasn’t hanging off of Mirio.

“Do you think he snuck in? Should we tell Togata-senpai?”

“I heard that he invited him.”

“Wait, for real?”

“It’s weird right?”

Yeah. It was super weird. There was no way she could argue with that. She peered back from her spot near the drink table. Shigaraki was sitting alone in one of the booths, the only one that wasn’t completely packed with laughing, social swimmers and their partners. He didn’t engage, didn’t even look at anyone — just stared down at his reflection in the lacquer table and occasionally scratched uncomfortably at his neck. There was not a single effort to socialize anywhere near him. 

Although to be fair, nobody else was taking the initiative to talk to him either. About him, maybe. Plenty of the groups around him stole glances before immediately turning back to their friends to whisper and snicker. There was something very familiar about the sight.

Something very high school.

Her boyfriend was the one who had invited Shigaraki, so it should’ve been his social responsibility to stick with him. But of course Mirio—

“Wait-wait-wait— it was a peach ?!”

—was off being Mirio, arm slung around a second-year like they were best friends since childhood, even though he’d probably talked to him all of twice that year. Swept up in wanting to make sure everyone was happy and welcome, he’d unintentionally left Shigaraki out to dry. The guy really could be too nice for his own good sometimes.

She sighed. It’s not like she could just leave him like this in good conscience. So she grabbed a couple bottles from the drink table and made her way over to Shigaraki.

“You look like you’re having fun,” she teased.

“A blast,” he muttered, glancing at the bottle she set in front of him, “What’s that?”

“Barley tea.”

Shigaraki glared, “Doesn’t this place have anything stronger?”

Her brows furrowed, “Like alcohol?”

“Like caffeine,” he corrected.

“You really think you need that, right now? You look like you haven’t slept in a week.”

“Well, who’s fault is that…” he muttered.

Oh there was no effing way he was implying that—

Nope. No, she was not going to take the bait, not here. She knew what she was walking over to, she could see that sour expression of his from a mile away. She needed to just give him the benefit of the doubt and keep the peace. This wasn’t about her. This was a weird situation that would rub a saint the wrong way. And Tomura Shigaraki was no fucking saint.

So she pretended not to hear him and pushed the bottle closer to him with a smile, “They say barley tea is good for sleep disorders. The combination of amino acids, melatonin, and tryptophan makes for more restful—”

“Got any data on that?”

“...well at any rate,” she grit, “It certainly wouldn’t hurt to replace a few of those energy drinks of yours with something a little healthier.” 

“Did you just come over here to nag me?”

She could practically feel the vein in her forehead throbbing, “No. I came over here because you look like you want to kill everyone in this room and then yourself.”

“Don’t tempt me with a good time.”

And that’s where her patience finally ran out.

“You know, you didn’t have to come.”

His eyes narrowed, “What, so you don’t want me here?”

“Not if you’re gonna be a miserable asshole the whole time, no.”

“Popular girl cares about appearances,” he scoffed, “Ain’t that fucking original?”

She stared at him in disbelief. Was she missing something? Did they not just recover from an argument like this? Why were they suddenly going two steps back?

Before she could ask not so subtly what the hell his problem was, they were both alerted to a whispered, “ Senpai!”  

They turned back to see one of the second years on the team, Miko, sitting at a nearby booth with Nejire and Yuyu. She waved her over as the other two girls looked at her companion suspiciously.

She sighed, frustration quelled for a moment. The timing couldn’t have been better. If she kept down this road with him, a scene was inevitable. And as much as it proved him right, she was not about to break her scene-less streak in front of her friends over some barley tea.

“I should go see what they want.”

“Yeah, wouldn’t want them to think you’re too close with the miserable asshole, right?” he spat.

“You know that’s not the reason why.”

Shigaraki just rolled his eyes.

“I’ll be right back, okay?” she stood.

“Don’t bother.”

She just waved him off and made her way over to her friends before she could lose any more of her patience.

“What’s up?” she asked, dropping into the booth next to Nejire.

“So it’s true then?” Yuyu, for some reason, whispered.

“What’s true?”

“You’re actually friends with Tomura Shigaraki.”

“I guess so…” she answered honestly, because at the moment she wasn’t too sure.

“Seriously?” Nejire gaped, “How can you be friends with him?”

“Our parents are coworkers.”

“No, that’s not what I meant,” Nejire pressed, “Like, how can you stand to be around him with everything he’s done?”

A little panic flared up in her chest. She knew that “everything he’s done” was not referring to the things they’d done together specifically — there was no way she could know about any of that — but the vagueness of it got her anxiety racing anyway.

“W-What do you mean?”

“ You know ,” Miko said, “The panty stealing, the pictures, the chikan—”

“—and the kidnapping !” Nejire all but shrieked.

She furrowed her brow, a little irritated (and surprisingly baffled) by the rumors she’d once been so quick to accept and spread herself. Hearing it all back now, it sounded really stupid.

“Oh, come on, you don’t actually believe those rumors do you?”

She was met with blank stares. They absolutely did.

“They’re not true ,” she insisted, “He’s not like that.”

The girls looked far from convinced.

“Well,” Nejire asked, “What’s he like, then?”

Well that was a loaded question. How could she possibly describe Shigaraki in a way that alleviated some of her friends’ fears without bullshitting them? Even without all the secrets, she wasn’t sure how to describe him. How could she put into words such a complicated enigma like Tomura Shigaraki—?

“He’s a dick,” the bitterness in her answered before she could stop it.

Her friends’ eyes widened,“W-What?”

Shit.

“I-I mean like, yeah he’s a little rough around the edges,” she tried to save, “Sarcastic and tempestuous and a really sore loser…” 

Damn it, she was swinging back into negatives again. It was so fucking easy with him. 

“B-But he’s smart though! Funny sometimes too! And he’s never afraid to speak his mind…”

She could tell by the look on her friends’ faces that she was really not making the sale.

“Okay…” Yuyu said, “I’ll be honest, he still doesn’t sound like a great guy. If he’s that much of a jerk, I don’t really get why you’d want to hang out with him. Doesn’t totally sound worth it.”

“I don’t know,” she sighed, “I guess it feels like I have to cut him a break sometimes considering where he came from. Like, he’s got this really weird… dad . And like, does anyone who has that much money really have a chance of being normal, you know?” — and that wasn’t even touching on all the other troubling unknowns about him.

She wasn’t sure why she was being so honest. It was almost like she was trying to justify this situation to herself right now. She’d tentatively agreed to be his friend, and she thought for a moment today that maybe that was actually possible. But it was becoming more and more clear that things were not going to be that simple. Being friends wouldn’t suddenly change his personality or fix their problems.

It wouldn’t erase their history. 

“Money?” Miko perked up, “How much money?”

“Um… A lot, I guess,” she answered hesitantly, “His Dad is the President of League Technologies.”

“Oh, shut up—” Miko snapped to Shigaraki across the room, “Is he single?”

Now, she went to a pretty damn good private school. There was certainly no shortage of well-off students in not only her class, but her friend group as well — although it was hard to tell since most of them were insanely down to earth. Even Miko herself was a genuinely really nice and funny person (not to mention drop dead gorgeous ). 

But she also had certain priorities when it came to boys.

“ Miko ,” Nejire scolded.

“What? She just vouched for him!” Miko defended, “And it’s not like he’s ugly or anything. He seems like he could clean up nice.”

Nejire turned back, looking over the sour, gloomy boy slouching in the corner booth skeptically, “I don’t know…”

Miko turned back to the advocate-in-question, “What do you think? Should I go for it?”

Her first instinct was to say no, absolutely not, but she stopped herself. And not for the reasons she should’ve. 

It would have been perfectly rational — good even — for her to dissuade Miko from pursuing Tomura Shigaraki. Just the circumstances that brought her to become so familiar with the guy were reason enough. He was not a good person and would be an even worse boyfriend. But that’s not why she wanted to say no.

The truth is, that the idea of Shigaraki and Miko being together made her absolutely sick. Seeing him walk her to school and kiss her goodbye, imagining her lounging in his room, playing on his switch, laughing at his jokes, bent over his bed— 

She couldn’t fucking handle it.

It made no sense why. If she just put her morals aside and encouraged Miko, pretty much all of her problems would be solved. Miko knew her way around a difficult guy, she could take care of herself. And it’s not like Shigaraki would hurt her or anything. He’d have a real girlfriend, or at least someone else to get his sexual kicks from. He wouldn’t need her anymore, would probably forget all about this thinly-veiled friend nonsense.

She’d be free .

“Well?” Miko pressed.

And yet, she couldn’t do it.

“Oh um, well… I-I don’t know…”

Miko pouted, “What, does he have a girlfriend?”

In any other situation she would have laughed at the suggestion, but right now she could handle anything but.

“No… He’s definitely single…”

“Then what’s the problem?”

She winced, something deep inside her breaking. She couldn’t think of a single excuse that she could actually give Miko. Not without either completely contradicting the positive review she’d just given Shigaraki or bringing into question why that review was so positive. Not without ruining absolutely fucking everything.

Not without making it seem like she liked him.

“…There’s no problem. You should go for it.”

Miko stood with an excited squeal, swatting at Yuyu’s shoulder, “Oooh, okay! Let me out Yu-chan, I’m gonna go talk to him!”

Yuyu sighed, sliding out of the booth to let Miko pass, “You’re incredible Miko.”

“I know!” she teased, ruffling Yuyu’s hair, “Wish me luck!”

“Good luck.” Nejire and Yuyu deadpanned.

“ Wait! ”

Miko paused, turning back to her curiously. The other girls looked at her too. 

Damn it— the shout had slipped out completely involuntarily, the growing pain of imagining that potential future between Miko and Shigaraki becoming too much to bear. Choking her with word vomit.

“…He… He likes video games,” she dug her fingernails into her thighs, desperately shoving any other stray cries down, “Action RPG’s are his favorite.”

Miko blinked, not quite sure what to do with that information. But then she smiled, “Thanks for the tip!”

“Y-Yeah…” she breathed, watching Miko zip down her track jacket a little to show off some subtle cleavage, before skipping adorably over to Shigaraki’s booth, “…Anytime.”

Shigaraki was absolutely fuming. 

God, she had some serious nerve. He could start a running tally of times she’d ditched him today, and yet she had the temerity to only come over to nag him and then ditch him again for her gossipy little flock? Where the actual hell did she get off? 

He looked down when he felt the catch of sticky film under his thumbnail. He’d practically shredded the barcode section of the label from the bottled tea she’d left him.

“They say barley tea is good for sleep disorders.”

Yeah, like he didn’t fucking know. Like Kurogiri hadn’t fed him every conceivable natural sleep aid by the spoonful growing up. God, he honestly forgot how naive she could be sometimes. 

Thinking about it pissed him off even more. He had half a mind to just walk the fuck out right now and let her deal with the awkward consequences. That’s probably what she was hoping for though. Maybe he’d kick over one of those folding tables on the way out.

But before he could get too worked up, he noticed a second bottle of barley tea sitting across the table. 

Her bottle.

Maybe she’d left it for him? She’d said he looked exhausted. She was  probably being smug, leaving both for him to drink.

…or maybe she was planning on coming back.

…

He sighed. Alright, maybe he was being too harsh on her. She wasn’t the devil just for having plans and friends. After all, he was the one who had shown up unannounced today. Rationally speaking, he couldn’t expect her to just drop everything and focus on him. He knew better than anyone that she honored (most of) her commitments. They were stupid commitments, in his opinion, but that line of thinking was what had thrown a wrench in their relationship in the first place.

“Hey there.”

Shigaraki looked up from his train of thought to see a girl sitting in the booth across from him—shit, when had she even gotten there?

“What?” he snapped.

“I’m Miko.”

He just stared blankly at her, “So?”

The venom didn’t faze her, “Can I sit with you?”

His knee-jerk response was to tell her to fuck off, but he’d already more or less decided to not make a scene. So he tried for something nice.

“You’re already here,” he grunted, “Not like I can stop you.”

Nic er at least.

But that was more than inviting enough for her. She made herself comfortable, leaning over the table in a way that pushed her cleavage forward.

“Your name is Tomura, right?” she asked, batting her perfect lash extensions. 

“Is there something you want?”

She shrugged, “No, not particularly. I just saw you sitting alone and thought you could use some company,” she leaned in closer and purred then, “Plus, I thought you were pretty cute.”

He blinked. Was… was she flirting with him? What the fuck?

Shigaraki gave her a once-over. She was obviously trying way too hard to get his attention, whether because she was being fake or because she was just that interested, he couldn’t tell (although at the end of the day, he’d always default to the former), but to be honest, she didn’t really need to. She was hot as fuck. 

Petite in a way that he could definitely imagine having some fun throwing around, but with a bigger rack than the teammate of hers that he was here to see. She had a few rose gold studs crawling up the cartilage of her ear and a cute little mark on the side of her nose where it looked like she’d taken out a ring for the meet. The girl was no stranger to piercings, he wondered if she had any others… 

Even more appealing though was the fact that she was actually coming onto him, looking at him with a set of bedroom eyes that she would never give him. So annoyed as he was by the interruption, he couldn’t help the color that rose in his cheeks.

He looked away, a little embarrassed, and muttered, “O-Okay…”

She giggled, “You don’t seem like you’re having a good time.”

“What was your first clue?”

His continued snappiness didn’t deter her at all. In fact, this confirmation seemed to be working in her favor, “Hey I get it, I hate these things too.”

Shigaraki glanced back at her, “Why are you here then?”

“It’s required,” she bemoaned, “The seniors insist it’s important for team-bonding, but I seriously wish I could just go home and relax with a book or a game after a meet for once.”

A bald-faced lie. Miko was a party girl among party girls with seemingly limitless energy. On a normal meet day she’d probably go hit up Shinjuku or Kichijoji straight after this dinner, but she was more than happy to play the part of homebody for the right guy. 

“You’re a really good friend though, coming to this dumb thing when you don’t have to”, she continued, “And when you don’t know anyone either. I can’t even imagine how uncomfortable it must be for you.”

Shigaraki’s eyes narrowed. She was starting to lay it on a little too thick, “You’re making fun of me.”

“No I’m not! I swear! I couldn’t even get my ex to come to this stuff with me,” she beamed up at him adoringly, “A guy like you is a dream.”

Alright… So not mocking then, currently anyway. But there was also no way this was genuine either, not a chance. If he were to go off of her jeweled acrylic manicure and the Chanel purse at her hip, he’d bet the house on another, even less desirable reason.

Shigaraki leaned in with a fake, saccharine smile of his own, “So, what kind of games do you play?”

“I love a good action RPG,” she chirped, eager to move into positive conversation as fast as possible.

“Yeah? What’s your favorite?”

She froze, somehow caught off guard by the question, like she hadn’t actually thought that far ahead. An idiot — why was he not surprised?

“O-Oh man,” she stammered, trying to figure out how to slip her phone out for a google search without him noticing, “How can I choose just one ? Like, there are so many great ones.”

“Top five then.”

“L-Let’s see… There’s Skyrim a-and,” she racked her brain for every game she’d ever heard of, hoping to God that she was listing ones that actually qualified as action RPG’s, “Uh— League of Legends! M-Minecraft…”

“Do you like Wyvern Quest?”

“ LOVE it!” she agreed instantly, “Oh my gosh— how could I forget about Wyvern Quest?!”

“I don’t know,” he cooed back just as enthusiastically, “Probably, because I just made it up.”

Her stomach dropped.

Damn it.

“...okay, so I don’t really game.”

“Yeah, no shit,” he snorted.

“I’m sorry,” she wiggled her shoulders sheepishly, “It’s just that, I heard you liked games, so I thought I could make a connection that way…”

He frowned, “Who told you that I like games?”

“What can I say, we’ve got a great wing-woman,” she said, nodding back to her former booth.

Shigaraki followed her nod, locking eyes with their supposed wing woman who was watching them anxiously. 

Oh, she could not be serious.

His “friend” snapped away with a start, clearly panicked to have been caught staring. That was confirmation enough. She had absolutely set him up. Motherfucker.

“It is something I’ve always been interested in though,” Miko purred, sliding her foot forward and rubbing against his leg under the table. “What do you say we get out of here? We can go back to your place and play some together.”

What the hell was she trying to do? Give him his own little Mirio? Some pretty little face to distract and delude himself with? Or did she legitimately think that he’d like such an obviously shallow, gold-digging slut like this? She’d gotten so mad at him for thinking “so little” of her— but was this seriously what she thought of him?!

He felt the weight of the day finally crashing over him, the emotional rollercoaster he had been through. Working up the courage to take the risk and actually apologize, the conversation with her Dad, with Dabi , watching her flaunt her perfect little arm candy, this fucking dinner, and now this?! She was going to act like they were just great little buddies now and play matchmaker? Look down on him and throw him a bone?

No. Absolutely not. This wasn’t some janky little olive branch or act of kindness. The bitch was fucking toying with him.

Well, two could play at that game.

Chapter Text

“Hey everyone!” Mirio announced, “Buffet’s ready! Go ahead and line up!”

She hazarded a look back to Shigaraki’s booth as she made her way over to the buffet line. He and Miko hadn’t moved an inch at the lunch announcement, too preoccupied with clearly flirtatious conversation. They were both smiling, Miko with that coy little pout she’d seen win over boys at least a thousand times and Shigaraki with an even more familiar cocky spread. The type of grin she’d seen him wear only when he was truly amused. 

And when she thought about it, one that she’d only seen him wear when he was with her .

The realization struck an ache through her chest that she thought she’d finally gotten rid of today. The longer she watched the scene, the more it hurt. And yet she couldn’t look away. It was like a part of her was desperately hoping that this was just some long comedy sketch, she just needed to wait for the punchline. 

Miko giggled at something Shigaraki said, then looked away with a blush. He said something else that had her squealing and smacking playfully at his forearm resting on the table. He said her name — her first name, she could clearly read “Miko” on his lips. She turned back to him, and he wagged his pointer finger in a come-hither gesture. She leaned in, but he encouraged her even closer, until he could easily press his nose into the perfect waves of her hair, to whisper something. And devastatingly, it still wasn’t getting funny.

This was becoming a car crash in front of her instead, becoming more unbearable to watch as bodies were pulled from the wreckage. She had to finally look away, she was going to be sick if she didn’t.

She moved on autopilot down the buffet line, just dropping a couple of spoonfuls of whatever was in front of her onto her plate, barely bothering to look at what it was. She wasn’t even sure that she’d be able to recognize anything if she took a moment to read the little menu cards. The critical thinking part of her brain was too preoccupied with trying to figure out what was wrong with her at that moment to actually comprehend language. It’d all read like Latin to her, and she’d just be standing there, reading “Mapo Tofu” over and over and over again until somebody asked her if she was okay. And then she’d have to answer, to lie .

Because she was not okay.

And the worst part was that she didn’t even know why.

Not in a “what could these feelings possibly mean” (aka, denial) type of way, but in the fact that there were so many conflicting and confusing feelings and events swirling around her world right now, and she hadn’t had the chance to process a single one of them today. She couldn’t pinpoint exactly what was wrong.

It was all wrong. 

From coming to terms with the fact that Shigaraki wasn’t going to be in her life anymore and realizing that she had been mourning that fact, to him showing up unannounced at the meet and offering not only an olive branch, but a friendship — realizing that she was happy about that. That she was happy to see him today and was looking to him for reassurance and support. That she didn’t know what to expect when he and Mirio came head to head, that it went completely in the opposite direction than she was expecting. That it still hadn’t gone well. That he was acting different, and then exactly the same. Nice, then mean; trying, not trying, the Miko of it all — God, and that fucking dream.

“You’re nervous.”

She jumped at that extra familiar rasp suddenly behind her, spilling just about half of her food onto the ground.

“Shit,” she cursed, trying to find a free spot on the buffet table to put her plate. A staff member was quick to wave her away and clean up before she could offer to help.

“And clumsy too,” Shigaraki chuckled, “That’s not like you.”

She flushed as he continued to echo her dream, “S-Stop that.”

He cocked a brow at her, “Stop what?”

“...Nevermind,” her blush deepened as she realized that she couldn’t exactly explain it, “What are you doing here?”

“Well, typically when someone is invited to lunch, they plan on eating,” he said, presenting his own full plate of food.

“That’s not what I meant.”

“Then what did you mean?”

“Where’s Miko?” she finally blurted.

He tilted his head, and she genuinely couldn’t tell if he was playing dumb or if he actually didn’t care enough to remember, “Who?”

“My teammate,” she reminded, “The one you were just sitting with?”

“ Ohhhh ,” he “realized” and nodded back towards the entrance, where Miko now stood, tear-stained and arguing with a couple of the girls in her grade. It looked like they were trying to comfort her and convince her to stay. They were ultimately unsuccessful though, and she shoved past them angrily out the door as fresh tears started to spill.

“What happened?” she asked, turning back to Shigaraki.

“She was annoying me. So I told her to fuck off.”

Her lips twitched as a little wave of joy fluttered unexpectedly in her chest. She immediately tried to force it down.

“But… It seemed like you two were getting on…”

His eyes narrowed, “Is that what you wanted? For us to ‘ get on’ ?”

She couldn’t answer that honestly. Not just because it would open up a whole new can of worms for them, but also because she straight-up just didn’t know how to.

“I mean,” she looked away, uncomfortably, “I don’t really have an opinion…”

Shigaraki smirked, “Then I guess you wouldn’t really care what happened, would you?”

Her brows furrowed. He was goading her. And it was working. Her nerves and butterflies made way for a steadily rising irritation that was so typical of her interactions with this man.

“Were you nice about it at least?”

“No,” he answered, proud and honest.

“Shigaraki .” 

“You just said that you didn’t care.” 

“I don’t care if you want to date her or not,” she lectured, “I do care if you go out of your way to be an ass to my friends.”

“Of course, how could I possibly forget?” he rolled his eyes, “Fine. You want me to be nice?” 

She squeaked as he hooked an arm around her waist, “Let’s be nice.”

“Shigaraki-kun!” Mirio waved as they approached, completely unbothered by the arm around his girlfriend’s waist (in fact he barely seemed to notice it), “How are you liking the dinner?”

“Oh it’s just awesome ,” Shigaraki chirped with a fake enthusiasm she didn’t even realize his voice was capable of, “Mind if I join you guys?”

“Of course! Squeeze in, dude!” Mirio answered, to the obvious discomfort of Tamaki, Nejire, and Yuyu already at the table.

Shigaraki cared just as much for their distaste as Mirio did though. He shoved her into the booth next to her boyfriend and slotted himself in tight on the other side of her, knocking his long, willowy legs flush against hers. 

Giving her no room for escape.

“So you’re all seniors this year!” Shigaraki continued to engage with almost sarcastic enthusiasm, “Are you, like, so stoked?”

She glared at him, genuinely a bit taken aback by how much of a patronizing asshole he was being right now. It wasn’t like him. Or at least, this particular version of his assholishness wasn’t like him. Usually he was just mean by being antisocial and snarky. He didn’t typically go out of his way to openly mock people like this.

But Mirio thankfully took his dickish delivery straight, “ Super stoked! It’s kind of crazy to think about though. It doesn’t feel like we’re about to move onto the rest of our lives, you know?”

“ Totally, ” Shigaraki droned, barely bothering to hide his eye roll.

 She shot him a look, a very clear “knock it off”.

But he completely ignored her warning,“So what are the plans after graduation Mirio? Olympics?”

“Haha, oh man, you’re way too nice,” Mirio laughed sheepishly, “No, I’m not nearly that good.”

“You’re kidding! ” Shigaraki lamented to the point of slapping a hand to his cheek.

“ Shigaraki ,” she warned under her breath.

“Have you picked a major then, yet?” he asked, ignoring her once again.

“Criminal Justice. I want to go into Law Enforcement.”

“ Really ?”

“Yeah! I haven’t decided between being a Detective or just an Officer though.”

He smirked, “Oh, I think Cop sounds just right for you.”

It sounded nice, but she could hear the unspoken implication clear in his voice. “You’re way too stupid to be a detective.”

She smacked his leg under the table, a third and clear final warning. But he immediately took that as an opportunity, clamping his hand atop her’s and holding it tight against his leg. 

Electric panic shot through her entire body. What was he doing? What the fuck was he doing!? She snapped to him with wide, pleading eyes, but he purposefully looked right past her, at Mirio.

Mirio, her boyfriend, who was sitting not five inches from them.

“That’s kind of what I’m thinking too!” he beamed, completely clueless, “I feel like as an officer I’ll be able to help more people. But as a detective it’ll mostly be too late, you know?”

“Plus, you just can’t let all those muscles go to waste!”

Her breath hitched as Shigaraki slowly dragged her hand higher and higher up his leg until it was resting right in the crux of his thigh.

And over his stiffening cock.

This was bad. Really fucking bad. His grip on her was vice tight, she couldn’t pull her hand away without considerable force and struggle, a level of movement that would undoubtedly bring attention to them. 

“What about you Shigaraki-kun? You’re finishing up your first year at Todai right? How cool is that?

“Oh, it’s just like any other school. Boring as hell…”

He started to move her hand up and down against his bulge. She could barely even hear what they were talking about now, the sound of her own pounding heartbeat filling her ears as she felt him swell and twitch under her palm. He was so composed, not missing a single beat of conversation despite the fact that he was essentially jacking off under the table with her hand. And Mirio on the other side was none the wiser.

But the most horrifying part was the way that her body was reacting to it.

There was a terribly pleasant bubbling in her chest, a rapidly-rising heat between her legs, and the sensation of the fabric of her tracksuit starting to stick to her core. (She really regretted not putting on underwear when she changed out of her swimsuit). 

She couldn’t believe it, this was so fucked. She was actually getting turned on from rubbing his dick.

He ground her palm so slowly against him, forcing her to really feel every ridge that was possible to feel through those fucking joggers of his. She found herself thinking — not for the first time that day — about the dream from this morning. It had felt so real and intense in the moment, but now it just felt like remembering a rerun she caught on TV, a pale imitation to the real-life opportunity in her hand. She could feel herself start to actually throb around nothing, body cruelly and subconsciously reminding her of how touch-starved she’d been all week.

A rabid flock of painful, conflicting emotions swarmed furiously inside her. She was scared, she was turned on, she was embarrassed, she was excited, she was confused.

She was betrayed. 

How could he be doing this to her right now? Was all that friend stuff — that entire display today — just bullshit? Had this been his endgame the whole time? To worm his way into her circle so that he could humiliate and isolate her like this? To find some new way to blackmail her back into his bed again?

…Or was he just fucking with her?

She watched that stupid smirk of his as he talked, the way it threatened to twitch wider and wider by the second, spurred on by the gaze he could feel her shooting him, but refused to acknowledge. That was it. 

He was reveling in this right now.

“... but you’re in line to take over your Dad’s company too, right? You must be so busy!”

Alright, he wanted to play dirty? She could fucking play dirty.

She shifted her hand so that her fingers could curve around him, molding her palm to his cock intentionally. She could see Shigaraki grin just a little wider as he felt her begin to jack him off all on her own, excitement and victory sparking in his eyes. She stroked him once, twice, her fingers creeping down further and further to press their pads into the curve of his balls.

“Heheh, you’d actually be pretty surprised—”

And then she squeezed the ever loving crap out of him.

His entire body jerked, choking with an audible “hrrk!” from the pain. He threw her hand off of him and snapped to her with a fury that clearly communicated that if she was a dude, her head would’ve been put right through that table.

“Woah, Shigaraki! Are you okay?”

“ Yes ,” he wheezed, glaring her down the whole time, “Food just went down the wrong pipe.”

She resisted every urge in her body to stick her tongue out at him. Check mate, fucker.

“Oh no ,” she faked-cooed, “Maybe you should go get some water or something?”

“I’m fine ,” he growled, then turned back to Mirio, not quite able to replace his composure as fast as she was, “Where were we?”

“Ummm… Your company, I think…” Mirio said, obviously still a bit confused and concerned.

“Right,” Shigaraki coughed the last of his pain and nausea away before finally moving on, a little more of his normal bitter tone in his voice than before, “No, a lot of the in-depth stuff is on the back burner while I focus on school. I still shadow at the company now and again, but honestly, it’s mainly just showing my face at bullshit corporate events.”

“Oh what, like the waterpark thing?” Mirio asked and nudged his girlfriend, “Yeah you’ve told me how rough those can be.”

“Hey I don’t mind the waterpark. It’s the bougie luncheons and holiday parties that bore me to tears,” she looked pointedly back at Shigaraki, seriously pressing her luck. She was reveling in this now, “You should see the guy that hosts them. He’s gotta be the most long-winded narcissist I’ve ever heard. And his son’s a real piece of work too.”

He glared at her, keen but fleeting. Then just as quickly smirked. He saw this as the challenge it was.

And he intended to raise the bet.

Shigaraki leaned forward across her, resting on his elbow like a schoolgirl from Grease, “Yeah, even I’ll admit that they can be pretty boring.”

And dropped his free hand onto her own thigh.

“Luckily, I’ve got your girlfriend to keep me company!”

…shit.

Mirio laughed, “Uh-oh, I can only imagine the trouble you two get in together.”

“You have no idea.”

He traced his nails intoxicatingly up and down her inner thigh, featherlight in a way that had her somehow feeling it all the more. She didn’t understand how he’d managed to stay so calm and collected when the roles were reversed. He wasn’t even touching her where it mattered yet, and she was already struggling not to collapse into a whining, panting mess.

And he was far from done.

She tried to laugh him off, “Oh stop, ” all while shooting him a look that said, “Seriously. Fucking stop .”

“Oh come on, your boyfriend knows I’m just teasing,” he continued, “You two are rock solid. Ain’t that right, Mirio?”

Mirio smiled and started to lean in to slip an arm around her shoulders, sending off a whole new wave of panic in her, “Sure is.”

She squeezed her legs closed to simultaneously try and stop Shigaraki’s ascent and hide the view from Mirio, but this turned out to be completely counterintuitive — locking his palm in the prime position to be able to stroke her sweetest spots.

“No, if anything we keep each other out of trouble,” Shigaraki explained, stroking patiently at her heat. He didn’t risk trying to get his hand into her track pants, but honestly, he didn’t need to. That polyester-spandex blend of her tracksuit may as well have been saran wrap for all of the barrier it was providing.

“She keeps me entertained, and I keep guys from flirting with her.”

Mirio pulled back suddenly, his attention fully on her. Luckily (kind of), it was just on her face, “Flirting? What flirting?”

God damn it, he was asking her, wasn’t she?

“O-Oh just other coworkers kids,” she stammered.

She honestly didn’t even know how she was able to produce such a coherent answer, when the only thing running on loop in her mind was fuck, fuck, FUCK—

“Why didn’t you ever tell me?”

Ugh, why was he still asking her questions? And where had Shigaraki learned to do that with just his fingers?

“I-I don’t know. I guess I just didn’t want to worry you.”

She didn’t know which throbbing was worse, the one steadily building in her head, or the one burning up pelvis.

“Babe, how many times do I gotta tell you—?”

Finally the cord of self-control snapped — the one in her patience, not in her body.

“Do you seriously want to hear about every time a guy flirts with me?!” she barked.

“B-Babe…” he breathed, genuinely taken aback by her outburst.

“No seriously! Do you want an itemized list or something? When do I need to tell you by? Do I at least get a twenty-four hour grace period? What the hell do you want from me?!”

To say she was being harsh was an understatement. A word that rhymed with “itchy” was probably more accurate. But in all fairness, her capacity for temperance and decorum was currently preoccupied with the way Shigaraki’s fingers were working relentlessly at her clit. 

Mirio smiled sadly, obviously hurt but not wanting to get into this in front of their friends.

“No, of course not. It’s good that you’ve got someone to look after you,” he said, a little bit of bitterness still slipping through his voice, “You know, since I’m never invited to those things…”

Damn it. 

Damn it, damn it, damn it.

Shigaraki smirked, “Oh don’t worry, I take great care of her.”

The conversation ended there and the tension that followed was palpable. Mirio was clearly not happy with the turn of it all, although it seemed to have little to do with Shigaraki’s paper-thinly veiled taunts, and all to do with the once again measurable distance forming between him and his girlfriend. His lack of faith honestly would’ve pissed her off if it wasn’t for the very hypocritical situation she had currently going on under the table.

Shigaraki smiled back to the rest of the group, free as a bird, “Come on, enough about me! What’re the rest of your plans after graduation?”

Nejire was, predictably, the first to pipe up and — luckily or unluckily, she really wasn’t sure — the attention of the table shifted in that direction. 

Except for Shigaraki’s, of course. His attention was all on her .

Those fingers worked against her clit as vigorously as they could without moving his shoulder, which was actually infuriatingly fast. To everyone else at the table, he was completely invested in the conversation. Maybe with a weirdly smug smile for someone listening to the hopes and dreams of an overly-peppy girl he’d talked to all of twice including this interaction, and sitting a little too close to someone who was very publicly in a relationship. But it wasn’t anything weird enough to warrant further investigation on what was happening on that side of the booth.

But she could see the real gears in his head turning. To her knowing eyes, he looked just as desperate to get her to her release as she was. Almost like he’d gotten off on her getting in a fight with her boyfriend right next to him. She wouldn’t have even been surprised if that was the case honestly. But God, could she care less right now.

All of her anxieties and anger and confusion were completely overwhelming her now — more than they ever had in the last couple of months, if that was even possible. She felt the weight of defeat straining even heavier on top of it all. She wanted to puke. She wanted to scream. She wanted to disappear.

She wanted to be under water.

It was sick and pathetic and incredibly stupid, but fuck it if in this moment, his fingers were not exactly what she needed. She just wanted one win. One little rush of dopamine and quiet in her head. For there to be no conversation around her, no people, no nothing. For a blankness she hadn’t realized that she needed to function. To get closer and closer and—

She almost gasped when Shigaraki suddenly pulled his hand away, clapping with a big happy grin on his face — the type that he so vehemently hated. 

“This has been really great!” he beamed, “But I think I need to head out.”

…what?

“Aww, really?” Mirio tilted his head, genuinely a little disappointed.

Fucking WHAT?! 

“Yeah, I was expected home a couple hours ago. And I hate to leave people hanging,” he side-eyed his victim, reveling in the chest-heaving she was trying so desperately to subdue, “But seriously, thank you so much for inviting me, Togata. I had a great time.”

“Yeah anytime buddy, I mean it!” Mirio said as Shigaraki pulled out of the booth, “Get home safe.”

“You too,” Shigaraki waved to Mirio, not sparing a second glance to his girlfriend.

And then he walked out the door.

That fucker. 

She stared after him in complete disbelief.

That absolute fucking motherfucker—FUCK!

“See? He’s not that bad right?” Mirio polled the table.

No. He was a bastard. A dirty, rotten, sadistic bastard.

“Hmmm, I guess…” Nejire smiled politely, still not quite sure what her verdict on him was.

“Oh come on, he’s just shy!” Mirio turned to Tamaki, “Right Amajiki? Don’t you think.”

“I don’t know… I’m not sure I really buy it either…”

“ Really ?!”

Her friends continued to talk about something. And then something else. But she couldn’t hear a word of it. She could only hear her blood pumping, feel her body aching.

The searing pain of yet another loss and rejection.

“...Look, I’m sure he just takes some time to warm up to people,” Mirio asked her, “Right babe?”

But rather than answer, she stood suddenly, unable to stay in the booth for a second longer.

“I-I’ll be right back,” she breathed, “Bathroom.”

She was pretty sure that she’d never been this angry before. Yes, just a week ago she and Shigaraki had gotten into one of the worst fights she’d ever had in her life, but she’d felt a lot of different things from that — hurt more than anything. 

This right now was pure rage. She was pissed off that he’d pull this crap not three hours after supposedly wanting to turn a new leaf. She was pissed off that he had the audacity to do it right there in front of her boyfriend. 

And honestly? She was pissed off that she hadn’t finished.

She turned the corner to the hall that housed the bathrooms. And that Shigaraki was currently leaning against the wall smirking cockily in.

“Little too much barley tea?”

She didn’t let him say another word, grabbing him by the front of the shirt and dragging him into one of the single stall bathrooms. He didn’t put up any fight, dripping with amusement as she shoved him up against the door.

“Can I help you—?”

“Shut the fuck up,” she snapped then crashed her lips into his.

He ravaged her back without missing a beat. It was messy and uncoordinated, a desperate whirlwind of clashing teeth and pulled clothes. She could vaguely process the sound of the door lock clicking before Shigaraki’s hands were ripping her track jacket down her shoulders with a force that miraculously didn’t completely bust the zipper.

It was a crazy change, definitely. Even on the days where Shigaraki had all but thrown her on his bed the second she walked in his door, he more or less liked to take his time once he actually got going. He loved to study and revel, absolutely lived for the moment that he could break her composure and pretense. 

There was none of that here. His hands were twisting in her hair, dragging down her shoulders, shoving up her shirt. It was like he was trying to grope and feel every inch of her body as fast as possible or she’d disappear.

And there was also never this much kissing before.

She pulled away with a gasp, a light breeze of common sense finally whispering through her head. The fact that she was willingly making out with Tomura Shigaraki while she still had a boyfriend. That they were doing this in public where said boyfriend was less than ten feet away. 

And the cherry on top that they were currently bumping and grinding against the easily shaken bathroom door.

She tried to pull away, but he just followed her forward, pushing her back until she pressed up against the sink.

Relentless hands shoved her shirt up so that his hands could palm and roll at her bare chest, desperate hips rocked his erection just shy of the right spot for her — all of it spreading a heat of pleasure in her that chased all of that pesky common sense away.

The position was quickly frustrating though, not allowing for the friction he wanted and causing her tailbone to knock uncomfortably back into the counter.  So he suddenly grabbed her ass tight and threw her up onto the countertop with a growl and surprising ease.

“W-Wait, I can’t—” 

Can’t do this? Can’t think? All of the above? Even she couldn’t remember now as he sucked down her chest and the length of her sternum.

As he pulled away momentarily to tug her track pants off, she couldn’t stop her mind from wandering right back to the dream she’d had that morning. The view from slightly above him was almost identical. Except this time, when he looked back up at her, there was none of that dreamlike affection or tenderness. There was just pure desire and superiority. He wasn’t put together with gleaming muscles and romanticism. He was ragged — hair, body, and soul. Desperate and ravenous, not giving a single fuck about the location of this escapade or the bandages peeling off his neck from where her nails had caught in the fray.

He was giving her the opening, daring her to tell him to stop.

And it pissed her right the fuck off.

She grabbed a tight fistful of his matted hair and shoved that stupidly smug face of his between her legs. She could feel him smirk victoriously against her center, earning him a not so soft smack to the back of the head. This only seemed to spur him on though, tossing her legs up over his shoulders so that he could eat her out in earnest.

Nails bit hot little crescents into the meat of her hips from the strength of his grip as he pulled her tighter, explored her deeper.

Long, feverish strokes had her back arching and heels digging into Shigaraki’s shoulder blades. She bit her bottom lip with a force just shy of breaking it to keep her moans and gasps from slipping out, but even then, she had to add the extra leverage of gripping the porcelain sides of the sink to keep herself from losing all control.

It didn’t take her long at all to come undone under the eager work of his tongue — she’d already been left hanging twice today after all. It took everything in her to not scream as her thighs slammed so hard around Shigaraki’s head it had his ears ringing.

“Fuck ,” he groaned into her, blissed out from the feeling.

As much as he enjoyed it though, he didn’t linger. He stood and shoved his joggers down to his thighs in one motion, while she collapsed boneless against the mirror trying to catch her breath. Normally, he would’ve taunted her endlessly for how quick she’d come. But there was none of that this time. 

Unwarned and overstimulated, she couldn’t hold back the loud cry when he immediately bottomed out inside her, causing him to slap his hand over her mouth with an audible impact.

“Careful,” he growled into her ear, “You don’t want everyone to hear you, do you?”

All she could do was whine helplessly into his palm.

He grinned, dragging his hips back, “Then you better shut the fuck up,” and slamming them back forward with even more force and speed then before.

She groaned loud and raw into his palm. He pressed into her lips harder, shoving her head back into the mirror with one hand, and grabbing tight onto her hips with the other so that he could completely hold her in place and pound into her.

Maybe the reason he didn’t poke fun at her for her finishing speed was because he was struggling to not be even quicker on the draw. The squeeze of her around him was already good enough to have him almost coming on the spot, but everything else about her wasn’t helping things either. Her hot panting into his hand, the light knocks of her knees into his ribs, the cute little whimpers that slipped out between his fingers. Her eyes, her skin, her smell—fuck this was amazing.

She was amazing.

He pulled down her head by the grip on her mouth as his thrusting grew more erratic, angling her gaze so that she was staring directly up at him. His grip was bruising and almost uncomfortable enough to hurt, the pads of his fingers digging into a spot behind her jaw just shy of a pressure point. But she couldn’t bring herself to try and loosen it, when his forehead dropped against hers.

The action once again brought her back to her dream. There was an intensity in his eyes that was very reminiscent, and yet still impossibly different. In the dream there was passion and confidence — the smoldering gaze you’d expect of the hero in an erotic novel or a movie lead that would be played by Bradley Cooper or Ryan Gosling. Completely unrealistic. 

This was a different look entirely. Pupils blown wide, brows furrowed desperately, mouth slack as he was losing control of his own sounds. It was a conflicted look. Full of both desperation and contentment. Of longing and relief. The bliss of having thought that he was never going to experience this again.

And the fear that this might be the last time he does.

Chapter Text

Izuku Midoriya didn’t think much of it when one of the bathroom doors was locked. Didn’t think about it all actually, the team “dinner” was a crowded event after all, it was perfectly understandable for the single stall facility to be occupied by one of his other teammates. 

No, he just moved on to try the other bathroom door. But before he could touch the handle, it opened, a puffy-eyed Ochaco Uraraka emerging from the other side.

“D-Deku!” she squeaked, rubbing at her eyes to try and hide the tears away, “I-I’m sorry, were you waiting long?”

However, he’d definitely caught them, his brows furrowing in concern, “No, I just got here.” 

“Oh, th-that’s good…” 

“Are… you okay?” he prodded gently.

She quickly overcompensated with her smile, “Y-Yeah, of course! Why do you ask?”

“Well, I guess… You kind of look like you’ve been crying or something.”

She waved him off, again, way too enthusiastically. Way too fake, “Oh, no, no, no! It’s just irritation from the water, I’m fine! Really!”

He wasn’t so sure. It’d been at least three hours since anyone had gotten in the water, let alone her. Any “irritation” should’ve been gone by this point. But at the same time, he didn’t want to push her when she was so vehemently denying it. They were friends, he had to believe that if she needed to talk to him about it, she would. 

“Oh… Okay…”

“Well then, excuse me…” she said, dropping her head and hurrying past him.

That really should’ve been it honestly, he had no place to pry. But something about this whole thing just didn’t feel right.

“Wait, Uraraka!” he called, turning heel and jogging after her.

He caught her just around the corner, a few short steps from the entrance back to the dining room.

“If um… If you’re ever not okay and you need to talk, just let me know,” he smiled, “After all, we’re friends right?”

She stared at him for a long time, at a complete loss for words. But before she knew it, her lip started to quiver, her eyes started to burn. And finally, she dropped down to the floor, head in her knees, with a not especially quiet wail.

“Waaaaaaaghhhhh!!!!!”

“O-Oh no, I’m so sorry!” Midoriya dropped down next to her, guiltily and frantically trying to calm her, “I shouldn’t have pried! If nothing’s wrong, nothing’s wrong, I believe you—!”

“I completely choked out there!” she cried, stopping his panic in its tracks.

Midoriya frowned, “Uraraka…”

“All my individual times were total crap, and I almost lost us the entire relay! And in front of all those recruiters, too! I couldn’t show them anything that I was made of!”

“Hey, that’s okay,” he cooed, patting her back, “It’s the first meet of the season, there are plenty of other chances.”

“I just don’t know how I’m gonna be able to come back from this,” she breathed, “Every time I think about swimming in another meet, all I can think about is how that might be my last chance, and then I completely freeze.” 

Midoriya’s brows furrowed, “Woah, what? Why would the next meet be your last chance?”

“Something Senpai said,” she answered, “About how the recruiters don’t care what we do and that we only have so many chances to to stand out, so we gotta make the most of them.” 

Midoriya almost couldn’t believe his ears. The upperclassmen on Uraraka’s relay team were all so nice and supportive, it was hard to even imagine that type of harsh, pressure-building advice coming from one of their mouths. 

“I know she was just trying to help,” she continued, “But it totally got in my head and now I’m wondering if maybe it’s all just downhill from here.”

His typical bashfulness around his dear friend and classmate was momentarily forgotten as all he could think about was comforting her. He took her hands in his and squeezed.

“Uraraka, you’re an amazing swimmer. And you’ll have as many chances as you make for yourself. There’s no way this is the end for you.”

She smiled softly at him, genuine relief warming her stomach, “...Thank you, Deku. Honestly.”

Uraraka excused herself soon after that, saying that she really should get back to the table now before Asui worried. To be honest, he still didn’t feel great about the situation as he made his way back to the bathrooms. He knew that there wasn’t anything he could actually do to alleviate her hurt, and it was frustrating. But he also couldn’t understand why on Earth their upperclassman would give Uraraka that kind of “advice”. It didn’t make sense, not unless she was trying to— 

No, no, no — that was a ridiculous thought Izuku Midoriya. She wouldn’t do something like that, no way… Right?

As he opened the door to the bathroom, the other one suddenly opened next to him. A guy, some supposed friend of said senpai — he was pretty sure that his name was Shigaraki — came out. He looked around carefully, clocking Midoriya with a bit of irritated surprise, before pointedly closing the door behind him. Then he stalked straight down towards the staff exit.

Huh. That was weird. 

For a couple of reasons, actually. For the shiftiness about him of course and the way that he hurried out the back. But also for the fact that Midoriya could’ve sworn that he’d left already.

It had been a rough night. The type of night that she would have woken up from with all of her makeup still on. That is, if she had actually worn makeup that day. 

Or managed to sleep even a second. 

Her parents weren’t especially concerned when she went straight to her room for the night after getting home from her team dinner, nor when she didn’t come out for breakfast the next morning. Meet days always took a lot out of her, and while this one seemed to take a little more of a toll than usual, they also could tell that it was a pretty emotionally taxing one for her (though not for the reasons they assumed).

It wasn’t until around noon that day that she started to hear the hushed whispers outside her door.

“She’s been in there all day.” 

“I know… Do you think something happened yesterday?”

She could hear her dad clear his throat, “Sweetie—?”

“I’m fine!” she croaked back before they could ask anything, “Just not feeling great!”

“Oh no, are you feeling feverish? Do you want some soup?!”

She snapped, “No! Just please go away!”

The “whispers”, which were louder than their regular talking voices in that weird parent way, resumed on the other side of the door.

“Should we take her to the urgent care?”

“No, no, no— you know what it probably is…” her Mom’s voice then tapered off to an actual whisper, presumably directly into her father’s ear.

“ Ohhhhhh .”

“I’ll get you a hot water bottle honey!” her Mom called through the door.

She groaned, rolling over in bed. She should’ve just gone out for breakfast. She could’ve thrown on a happy face long enough to scarf down some pancakes before retreating to her room for the rest of the day. Even if the facade had slipped, her parents wouldn’t have thought twice if she just told them that she was still just feeling groggy from the meet. Probably would’ve encouraged her to go back to her room and take a nice long nap instead. 

Holing herself up in her bedroom for twenty straight hours, on the other hand, was absolutely cause for concern. More so if they’d actually decided to come in and see that she hadn’t even bothered to get out of bed that entire time, let alone change out of her swim gear and tracksuit.

Yes, she’d made a mistake. Another one in this endless streak of them she’d been on lately. Although this seemed to be a pretty light drop in the bucket compared to the latest ringer of hers.

Shigaraki and her hadn’t said anything after their… mistake at the restaurant. Not a damn word. Neither of them even tried to say anything either, didn’t really need to. Shigaraki just tucked himself back into his pants and wiped the sweat from his brow before heading straight to the door. He’d gestured for her to stay back in the bathroom, out of sight of the door as he cracked it open to scope the outside.

Like they were survivors in a freaking zombie movie. 

Apparently the coast had been clear enough for him to leave, because he slipped out without another word or even a glance back, purposefully closing the door behind him. It’s not like it offended her though. Not at that moment anyway. After all, she quickly rushed to the door and locked it the second it closed so that she could wait an appropriate amount of time to leave after him. It was like they’d gone on autopilot, both firmly on the same page of just getting the fuck out of this bathroom without anyone noticing.  

Whether while she was getting dressed and splashing water on her face, she was in the most extensive post-orgasm haze of her life or just in plain, simple shock, she wasn’t sure. But it wasn’t until she was sitting back down in the booth next to Mirio when she finally had the thought:

Oh my god. What the fuck did I just do?

She was only able to sit in the restaurant with that looped thought for another thirty minutes before she feigned a stomach ache and called a taxi home. She knew if she even suggested the idea that she was taking the train that Mirio would insist on escorting her back personally and she just could not.

By the time she actually got home, that ache wasn’t so feigned. She felt absolutely sick to her stomach with guilt and panic upon a startling revelation.

She’d had willing sex with Tomura Shigaraki. 

Like, definitively willing sex with him. There was no pretense of extortion or quid pro quo that she could fall back on. God, she’d shoved the guy into a bathroom for fuck’s sake.

What did this mean for them? For her and Mirio — oh God, Mirio . She couldn’t even begin to think about that particular set of consequences right now. 

Did this mean that she had actual romantic feelings for Shigaraki or something? It really didn’t feel that simple. She knew that they had to talk about this. But honestly, it kind of scared her shitless.

She’d stayed up pretty much the entire night, staring at her phone and trying to figure out just what exactly she should do or say. If she should do or say anything . And should it be over text or call? She never expected to get this far on her train of thought, believing for sure that Shigaraki would be blowing up her phone before she even left the restaurant. And yet she hadn’t heard or seen a word from him even a couple of hours into laying on her bed at home.

Eventually she concluded to just take the leap. Well, more of a hop. But she had to do something. The radio silence was killing her. 

So she texted him:

Shigaraki

— New Message—

[Hey]

Yes, that was perfect. “Hey” was neutral, it didn’t pick a fight nor did it show any desperation. “Hey” could mean anything. “Hey” was a low pressure way to get the conversation, any conversation, started. Hey— she was a fucking genius.

…

…And she was fucking left on read.

As hours passed and only that stupid  “Hey” stared back at her, she considered sending some follow ups. Some “you up”’s or “did you get my message”’s, or even some “can we talk”’s — but she couldn’t bring herself to do it. She already knew that he was actively ignoring her, Tomura Shigaraki didn’t take a step out of his cave of a room without his cellphone. There was no way he didn’t see it. But she just couldn’t muster the courage to confirm it by having multiple messages left on read, she couldn’t humiliate herself further then she had by hooking up with him in a restaurant bathroom and then texting him first.

She whined at the thought, dropping her phone screen down onto her nightstand and shoving her face into her pillow. She couldn’t handle looking at that stupid empty screen anymore. She might actually die of embarrassment if she did.

The bedroom door suddenly flew open, startling her pity party.

“Oi, nee-chan—”

She snapped up, “Oh my God, do you ever freaking knock?!”

Her brother just stared at her, completely unfazed, then continued into the room. 

“I need help with my homework.”

She groaned and flopped back onto the bed, “Go ask Dad.”

Frustratingly, she could hear him padding right up to her bedside.

“Dad can’t help me.”

“Then ask Mom.”

“No, I need your help,” he poked her shoulder.

“Well I’m busy,” she shrugged him away.

But he poked again, “Doing what?”

And she swatted him away, “Things.”

“What things?” he whined, shoving repeatedly at her shoulder now, “It looks like you’re just laying on your fat butt.”

“I don’t know, dude — things !” she finally snapped her head up to yell, “School things and boy things and just, things you’re too young to get! I don’t have time to help you with your freaking long division today, so just get out!”

Her brother finally went silent, the two of them staring each other off with the level of short-term, intense hate that only siblings could muster. She was one more whiny “but why?” away from grabbing him by the back of his shirt and throwing him out of the room.

But then she saw his lip start to quiver. And she instantly felt bad.

She sat up so that she could try and comfort him, “Oh no. Look, I didn’t mean—”

Until he grabbed one of the many throw pillows off of her bed and smacked her in the face with it, that is.

“What the hell?!”

“You’re a liar!” he cried, hitting her again and again.

“Ow—!”

“You said that if I ever had questions about Sukari-chou, that I needed to talk to you instead of Mom or Dad!” he shouted between hits.

That finally grabbed her attention. She caught the pillow on his last hit and asked, “Sukari-chou? What’s your assignment exactly?”

“It’s a family history assignment. I have to do this whole report about where I’m from and my family tree, but I can’t answer any of the questions on the worksheet,” he muttered, handing her the sheet of paper he had brought in with him, “I don’t know anything about our family outside of you and mom and dad.”

She looked over the questions and frowned.

“Okay, yeah. I should go over this with you. Not Dad,” she put down the page and looked at her brother, “When is this due?”

“We’re presenting in two weeks.”

“Okay,” she nodded, “Are you fine starting in a couple days so I have time to look over these?”

“Yeah, that’s fine,” he mumbled with a sulk.

“Great. And yeah, let’s go ahead and keep this assignment between us, alright?”

He nodded, but refused to look at her anymore. She could tell that he was still kind of upset.

She reached forward and gave his shoulder a little squeeze, “Hey kiddo, I’m sorry for snapping at you. I’ve just… I’ve got a lot going on right now.”

He looked back at her, concerned, “Did you and nii-san have a fight?”

“No, we didn’t have a fight.”

“So you’re happy?”

She faked a smile, “Yeah. I’m happy.”

Her brother’s eyes narrowed. He didn’t buy it for a second. 

Before she could try and insist, he smacked her with the pillow one last time before running out of the room.

“ Hey! ”

“Nee-chan’s still a liar!”

She sighed, dropping her chin into her knees.

“Tell me about it…”

Shigaraki, on the other hand, was on cloud fucking nine today.

His appearance at the swim meet couldn’t have gone better. Well, technically it could’ve. There were obviously a lot of obnoxious twists and turns he could’ve done without, but he ultimately ended up exactly where he wanted: sexually satisfied with next to none of his own blood of vulnerability spilled. He’d landed in a level of ambiguity that really was his sweet spot, the only commitment he’d had to make being that they were “friends”. 

It was kind of perfect, actually. Wanting to be near and play games with a friend was completely normal. And as for how much he wanted to see her naked…

Well, he thought that friends with benefits sounded just great.

The one hitch in the idea was on how he was going to get her to see things like that too. He knew that another “definitions” conversation was coming. And he had a feeling that she probably was not considering that particular future for their relationship, especially if she was still going to insist on staying with Mirio (for some reason). So he wanted to put it off until he could figure out how exactly to convince her.

Maybe he’d just get her mad again. That seemed to work pretty damn well last time.

Iguchi, however, had a different opinion.

“I think you’re the dumbest smart person I’ve ever met,” he said as he flipped through Halo maps on Shigaraki’s Xbox.

“Oh come on,” Shigaraki demanded from the floor rocker next to him, “It makes the most sense!”

“ Nothing about this situation makes sense.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“It means, I don’t get why you think you need to break her down and trick her into spending time with you when it sounds like all you actually need to do is have a real conversation.”

Shigaraki snorted, “Oh that’s real easy for you to say.”

“Yeah, it is,” Iguchi snapped, “I could never have a conversation like that with a girl. I’ll probably never get to a point in my life where that conversation is an option. But you are. And you’re putting all your energy into the wrong part of it. You guys both seem to feel something for each other, so why don’t you take five minutes to figure out what that something is instead of playing four dimensional chess?”

They stared at each other, Shigaraki in disbelief, Iguchi waiting for an answer.

“... so you really think she feels something?”

Iguch groaned and turned back to their game.

“No, seriously, tell me what you think!”

“I just did.”

“No, no— about the feeling something! Why do you think that? Because I can use that…”

Iguchi started to tune him out at that point, way more invested in this game then whatever horny-brained “plan” his emotionally constipated friend was concocting. It was just too much of a bummer. 

For a split-second, when Shigaraki had told him that he went to his not-girlfriend’s swim meet to make amends (he didn’t say make amends, but that was undoubtedly what he was doing), Iguchi had thought that he had finally made some progress. But it turned out that he’d learned entirely the wrong lesson from the experience. 

The lesson that he could still manipulate her, but just in new non-extorting ways.

It was beyond frustrating. The poor bastard was obviously able to acknowledge that she meant something to him now, but he still couldn’t name what that something was or put in the work to bring that it to fruition. One step forward, two steps back.

Sensing he was being ignored, Shigaraki finally let it go with a huff.

“Fine, forget it,” he grunted, rising to his feet, “I’m grabbing a drink.”

“I’ll take a Monster.” 

Shigaraki almost spit out an “I didn’t ask”, but decided to just not get him a drink out of spite. He threw the door open, immediately dumbfounded to see their prior topic of conversation on the other side, fist raised to knock and even more startled then him.

“H-Hey!”

“What the hell are you doing here?” he snapped, more than a little irritated by her surprise drop-by when he was still woefully unprepared for her. It was like she’d caught him with his pants down… in a bad way.

“W-Well, I haven’t heard from you since yesterday and I thought that we should talk…”

He analyzed her from head to toe, trying to find any indication of the reason for her visit. She looked nervous, was that “I’m here to end things” nervous or “I’m here to confess my feelings” nervous? She was in jeans and a fuzzy fleece zip up that seemed a little light for how close to snow they were these days. Did that mean that she came over in a rush? Of course she could’ve left an overcoat downstairs with Kurogiri. And she seemed to have had enough time to put on makeup… But WHY would she put on makeup?! Was it to cover up that she’d been crying or had a restless night or—

“...but anyway, I’m sorry. I didn’t think you’d have company,” she said, finally regaining her composure enough to clock the other occupant in the room.

Shigaraki glared, “Why do you seem so surprised? You’re the one that came over unannounced.”

“Honestly, I didn’t think you had friends,” she answered, completely straight-faced.

“He doesn’t,” Iguchi piped in, having yet to look up from his game, “He has friend .”

She giggled. Shigaraki, however, was completely unamused. Especially considering how much of a mess he knew Iguchi would be if he actually processed who he was talking to right now.

He stormed back over to where Iguchi and he had been sitting on the ground and snatched the controller from his hands.

“Hey—!”

“You’re being rude, Spinner,” Shigaraki grinned tauntingly, “You should introduce yourself.”

Finally tuned back fully into the room, Iguchi looked towards the door and instantly froze.

Now, Shuichi Iguchi liked to consider himself a decent guy. He was terrified of women, but he always thought that he at least respected them enough to look them in the eyes before immediately in every other direction of the room. He was not the type to look at a woman tits first — and he didn’t in this case either! 

But the thing is, he knew a lot about this girl. More than she probably ever would’ve wanted him to. And he had a lot of thoughts about her too. Thoughts that, once she was actually standing in front of him, looking even cuter in person, started racing through his mind a mile a minute. Thoughts of pictures and stories and audio recordings Shigaraki had spammed his e-mail with and that he had, in more than a few moments of weakness, most definitely jacked off too. 

Thoughts that had him unconsciously snapping from her eyes, to her tits, to her hips, to her tits again — no, damn it, look her in the eye! FUCK —

“I-I-I’m… I’m Shu- Shu’guchi— I mean, Shu’guchi— no! Urgh—”

She hadn’t even registered he was babbling yet, the “words” coming out as barely above a whisper.

“Oh! You’re Spinner!” she finally realized, and introduced herself, “Nice to meet you. It’s great to finally put a face to a screen name!”

“N-N-N-Nice— N-Nice to… t-to…”

She smiled sympathetically, immediately understanding why he and Shigaraki were friends. And, judging by the way-too amused smirk on Shigaraki’s face watching his friend scramble, how Iguchi could definitely do better.

But then again, so could she. Speaking of…

“Seriously though, can we talk?” she asked Shigaraki, “Like, in private?”

“Y-Yes please!” Iguchi yelped, scrambling to his feet. But Shigaraki quickly grabbed him by the shoulder and shoved him back into the floor rocker.

“I have company right now,” Shigaraki said with just as much patronizing sweetness as he’d talked to Mirio with the day before, “Jeez, why are both of my friends so rude today?”

“We probably spend too much time with you,” she deadpanned, “Shigaraki, I’m serious. We need to talk about yesterday.”

“Then talk about yesterday. I’m not going to drop my plans just because you decided to show up unannounced,” he shot her a pointed look, “Right?”

She couldn’t exactly argue with that. After all, she hadn’t exactly done the same for him yesterday. Normally she’d assume that he was just trying to throw some more payback in his face, but there was something kind of strange about the situation. Particularly in the way that Iguchi refused to look at her…

Her eyes widened in realization, “Does he know?”

Iguchi looked away even further, his blush deepening to a shade she didn’t even know was possible. Pretty much confirming her suspicions.

“Oh my God — how much does he know?!” when Shigaraki only smirked, in response, she turned to Iguchi, storming up so close to him that he had no choice but to look at her, “How much do you know?!”

When he finally faced her again, he caved instantly. He couldn’t help it! He could count the number of times a girl that wasn’t his mother had been this close to him (purposefully and accidentally) on one hand. And this girl was not only gorgeous and paying complete attention to him, she was also pissed . The pressure decimated him, and the word vomit practically projectiled out of his mouth.

“I deleted the pictures as soon as he sent them!”

Her eyes widened, “Pictures?”

Shigaraki’s smug smirk dropped instantaneously. 

She whipped around to Shigaraki, “Do you have naked pictures of me?!”

“N-Not completely naked!” Iguchi, realizing his mistake, tried desperately to correct, “J-Just uh, the… ummm…” 

He couldn’t quite get the words out — choosing instead to shakily pantomime breasts over his chest, although quickly dropped his hands when her eyes narrowed irritably. This obviously didn’t make things better, “A-And the videos only had sound, they didn’t—”

“ Videos ?!” she screamed.

“Spinner, shut up .” Shigaraki snapped.

She was absolutely mortified. Stupidly so, she should’ve admitted. Because honestly, should she even be surprised? Of course the guy who’d extorted her into sex would be sure to get some blackmail material in there too. But still, she couldn’t help but be blindsided by it in this particular moment. 

After he’d made such a genuine, albeit pathetic, attempt to reconcile with her, only to drive her to the point of insanity that’d lead her to fucking him in a restraunt bathroom. And now this?! It had her second-guessing literally everything about this moment. Especially since she’d come here to potentially—

God, she didn’t even know what she’d come here to do anymore. But whatever it was, she knew it was the wrong choice. Every single thing she did involving Shigaraki seemed to be the wrong choice.

She barely noticed Kurogiri stepping into the room behind her with a gentle knock.

“Tomura Shigaraki,” he said, “I need your attention for a few moments downstairs.”

“This isn’t a good time.” Shigaraki growled.

“I’m afraid that it can’t wait,” Kurogiri insisted, “It’s a phone call from him .”

Shigaraki froze in his spot. Damn it, he’d shoved his phone in his desk drawer when she’d first texted him so that he wouldn’t be tempted to respond. He’d heard it vibrating more frequently in the last hour, but had assumed that it was her blowing it up, not Sensei. He was completely stuck.

He begrudgingly moved to follow Kurogiri, pausing in the doorway to point at both of his guests and command, “Stay right here.”

That finally caught her attention.

“W-Wait, what—?!”

Then the door slammed in her face. And she and Iguchi were alone.

She looked back at him. He seemed just as shell-shocked as she was. She genuinely couldn’t think of a more awkward situation than being left alone in a room with a guy that she’d just met, but had seen her in God knows how many states of undress. Well, except for maybe sitting through an entire lunch with her boyfriend after actively cheating on him in a bathroom.

And what a coincidence that Shigaraki was the common denominator for both of those situations, she thought bitterly.

She shook her head in disbelief — feeling like the biggest asshole and idiot on the planet for coming over here today. Seriously, just what the hell had she expected? 

That was the problem with Shigaraki. She never knew what to expect with him. 

Well, that wasn’t exactly true. She could always expect anything he was involved with to end badly.

“Fuck this,” she breathed, turning to leave — consequences be damned, “I’m out of here.”

Iguchi snapped up. Shit, he couldn’t let her leave like this. As little about this weird relationship as he understood, he did understand that he had just personally made it worse. Shigaraki’s slow personal progress may have been driving him insane these days, but it was still progress. He couldn’t live with himself if he was the reason that all stopped. And, getting more to the point, he wasn’t sure if Shigaraki could stand to keep him around after that either.

His friendship with Shigaraki was genuinely the only thing he knew that he could contribute to. The only place in this world where he was worth a damn. He couldn’t lose that.

“N-No, wait!”

She paused, legitimately a bit surprised by the shout.

“D-Don’t go yet,” he scrambled as she turned back to him, “Seeing the pictures… It wasn't his fault. It was mine.”

Her brows furrowed, “And how’s that?”

“Ummm,” he hadn’t thought that far, “W-Well I… I took his phone! And looked at them myself!”

Her surprise turned to bleeding skepticism. Iguchi had the same expression on his face when her little brother tried to lie about eating his vegetables when he’d actually stuffed the carrot sticks into his pocket. And just like then, she didn’t buy it for a second.

“No you didn’t.” 

“No I didn’t,” Iguchi gave up immediately, “B-But you still shouldn’t leave, not yet! After everything that’s happened, this can’t really be the final nail in the coffin, right? And even if it is… you should still tell him off! Do what you came here to do, you know?”

Iguchi was all but nonsensical in his babbling effort to be polite yet convincing, but she more or less understood what he was trying to get at. 

Taking pictures of her and sharing them with his friends (correction: friend), out of all the shitty things he’d done to her specifically, was that really all that surprising? She wanted to kick herself over the fact that she was even considering rationalizing any of this, but she was kind of past the point of no return in that regard, so she might as well be straight up. 

If what she had to say to him was important enough to overlook extortion and cruelty and infidelity, was it really worth throwing away over some dirty pictures? If she left now, she’d more than likely end up exactly where she was last night — hell, even last week. She’d be wondering and agonizing and wishing things had turned out differently.

And regretting that she barely did a thing to make that happen.

“Okay…” she sighed, “I’ll, just… okay.”

She sat down on the floor, leaning back against Shigaraki’s bed. She needed a moment to really take a breath and collect her thoughts. To figure out exactly what she was here to do again in the first place. To decompress.

…and to let things get just as awkward as they were before.

Iguchi didn’t really know where to go from here. He’d managed to get her to stick around, so should he leave? Give them the alone time that they actually needed when Shigaraki came back? Or should he stay here and goalkeep? After all, alone with her thoughts, there’d be nothing but the door keeping her from changing her mind again. 

But how did he do that then? Did he block the door? Did he try to talk up Shigaraki? Could he even talk up Shigaraki? God damn it, he’d been right. This was easier said than done.

Luckily, there happened to be a social butterfly in the room, and she chose door number three: small talk.

“Soooo…” she started as she sized Iguchi up for a conversation-starter, her eyes settling quickly and comfortably on his university t-shirt, “Did you two meet at Todai?”

“Ah, n-no,” Iguchi stammered, “We met when he was a… first year in high school I think. About four years ago.”

She tilted her head, “Did you go to Kamino High? I don’t remember you.”

“N-No… Truth be told, I actually barely even went to high school,” he rubbed the back of his head sheepishly, “I dropped out my freshman year and then ended up finishing remotely two years later.”

“And you managed to get into Todai?” she asked, genuinely awed, “That’s amazing.”

He snorted, “No, that was Shigaraki. The bastard didn’t really give me any other choice. He said if he was going to help me get in anywhere, it was going to be the same school as him.”

She couldn’t help but laugh, “Yeah, that sounds like him.”

“He was such a dick about it too,” he sighed, “But honestly… I can’t be anything but grateful. He called me out on my shit and got me to take control of my own life. I wouldn’t be anything right now if it weren’t for him.”

“...yeah. That sounds like him alright…” she said again, much more begrudging this time. She didn’t want to admit how right he really was.

How much that hit home for her.

“So how did you two meet then?” she asked.

Iguchi paused, then looked away nervously, “Oh, uhh… I-I’m sorry. I can’t really tell you that.”

Her brows furrowed, “What do you mean?”

“It’s just that… I don’t really think it’s my place to say,” he answered, “It’s really personal to Shigaraki. He should be the one to tell you.”

She stared at him, completely deadpan— reminding with just one look of how much Shigaraki had shared with him about her, that was not his place to share, “ Seriously ?” 

“P-Point taken,” he laughed nervously, “But I’m really sorry. I just don’t think I can.”

She sighed, dropping her chin into her palm, “Well, you’re a good friend Spinner. Better than what Shigaraki deserves.”

“I could say the same about you.”

She almost laughed, “I don’t know about that. I’d say we deserve each other at this point…”

Iguchi looked at her sympathetically. It was obvious that she had a lot of conflicting feelings eating away at her.

“Look, Shigaraki isn’t a good person. I know that, you know that. I’ve seen him at his worst, and to be honest, I don’t really know if he has a best. But if he does, I’ve seen him get closer to it in the last couple of months than I’ve ever seen in the last four years,” he gave her a shy smile, “And I don’t think that’s a coincidence.”

She looked at him, shocked. But then an unmistakable softness fell over her features. A small quirk of her lips, a light flush across her cheeks. She was thinking about it, thinking about Shigaraki. And she was thinking about him with fondness and with gratitude.

There asshole, Iguchi thought to himself, don’t ever say I never did anything for you .

She caught herself quickly though, trying to hide her slip with humor, “Oh you’re good, you know that?”

Iguchi just waved her off with a chuckle.

Shigaraki stormed down to the living room behind Kurogiri. Down to where the land line laid ready and waiting off of the receiver. He was ready to get this shit over with. Whatever his Sensei had to say to him, he could guarantee that it wasn’t as urgent or precarious as the situation about to bubble over in his bedroom right now.

“Tomura Shigaraki.”

He snapped to Kurogiri, seconds away from taking the phone off hold. The family aid gestured, surprisingly non-patronizingly, for Shigaraki to calm down. It was only at that moment that Shigaraki realized just how tense his shoulders were. How hard his fingernails were biting into his palms. How ready he was to snap at the one person he needed to keep his cool around.

And so, Shigaraki allowed himself the moment to take a deep breath,  excavate his fingernails from the meat of his collar bone, and ground himself.

Then he answered the phone.

“Yes, Sensei?”

“Tomura,” he boomed happily on the other line, “Are you busy? Have I interrupted something important?”

“No, sir.”

“I see. Then why weren’t you answering your cell phone?”

“I’m sorry, sir,” Shigaraki said, “I uh, I got caught up in a game with Spinner.”

“Spin— oh, that boy, Iguchi right?”

“Yeah.”

He could practically hear the distaste on Sensei’s face on the other line. He’d never much cared for Shigaraki’s only real, lasting friend. He had absolutely no status or notable lineage, wasted much of his time on tv and video games (and in Sensei’s mind, “influenced” Shigaraki to do the same) — just a complete waste of not only Tomura’s, but society’s time and resources. 

And that was all without mentioning the rather nontraditional manner in which Shigaraki and Iguchi had become friends in the first place…

“Well, no matter,” Sensei surprisingly decided to move on, rather than lecture, “I wanted to talk to you about my business trip to Kyushu next month…”

Shigaraki made his way back to the room. That had been an… interesting conversation, to say the least. 

It had almost seemed like a test. In fact, this whole trip in theory did. 

He would be going with Sensei to Kyushu next month for a trade show. A very up-and-coming one for tech startups where they’d scout out potential assets for licensing. That in itself wasn’t especially weird, he’d gone on plenty of business trips with his Guardian before. And these would be some of the products he’d end up managing in the coming years. It made sense for him to go.

No, the odd part had been that particular caveat Sensei had given him—

Shigaraki paused outside of his bedroom door, surprised to hear laughter from inside.

He pressed his ear to the door.

“No really, you’re a catch!” he could hear her insist, “You’re just not making the most of your best features!”

“...I have those?”

Another giggle.

“Of course you do! I mean come on, look at these biceps! How much do you bench press?”

“N-Ninety-two kilos…”

“Seriously?!”

With a growl, Shigaraki threw the door open, less than thrilled to be met with the sight of his not-girlfriend rolling up Iguchi’s t-shirt sleeve to squeeze at his bicep.

“Well aren’t you two comfy?”

They looked back to him, barely even phased by his return. They were comfortable in fact, even Iguchi.

“Hey!” she greeted happily, like she hadn’t been ready to tell Shigaraki where he could stick it before he left the room, “You should’ve introduced me and Spinner sooner! We have a lot in common.”

“What the hell could you two possibly have in common?”

“Gaming, rock-climbing—” Iguchi started to list.

“Rock-climbing? Since when do either of you rock-climb?”

“—dealing with you,” she added, and they both laughed.

“Ha. Ha.” Shigaraki scowled, less than amused, “Alright Spinner, hit the road.”

Iguchi could tell that this teasing had already worn out its welcome. He started to rise to collect his things, but she tightened her hold on his arm and pulled him right back down — placing him squarely in the line of fire just as Shigaraki had done.

“Hey woah, who’s being rude now?”

“Didn’t you want to talk alone ?” he gritted.

“I did . And you wouldn’t have any of it,” she crossed her arms, “So why is that now that we’re in the middle of a conversation, you try to kick him out?”

“Because before you didn’t have your hands all over him.”

“And how is it any of your business who I have my hands on?”

“Hey guys—” Iguchi tried to moderate.

“No you’re right, what was I thinking?” Shigaraki threw his hands up in angry, mock flippancy, “I’m just the guy you fucked in a bathroom yesterday. But I guess it really could’ve been anybody—”

“ What ?”

 “—Anybody except your boyfriend, that is!”

Iguchi face-palmed, groaning, “Shigaraki…”

She stared at Shigaraki in complete disbelief.

“Jesus…” she breathed, “Why are you so…”

“Honest?”

“ Mean! ” she cried.

Shigaraki blinked.

“I never did anything to you! I never bullied you, I never even talked to you before my dad brought me over here! But you just this sick fixation with making my life miserable .”

She could feel herself getting choked up the longer she talked. She knew that she should probably stop while she was ahead of the tears, but she couldn’t. These were the words that had been weighing on her mind since that first day in his bedroom, ones she’d been burying even from herself. And the dam just couldn’t hold them back anymore.

Why did he always assume the worse of her? Why did he always expect the best of her? Why did he want her around so much when he so clearly hated her? Why was he so cruel to her when he said that he liked her? 

Just… Why ?

“I mean, I thought you were being genuine yesterday,” she continued, “But then you pull that shit at the restaurant and now I find out that you have pictures and videos of me? Was that just all part of the plan? You give me this false sense of security until you can find something else to hold over my head and blackmail me with?”

Shigaraki didn’t immediately say no. After all, he’d be lying if the thought hadn’t crossed his mind.

But the moment of silence was all that she needed to hear volumes. She stood, trying to choke back her tears and storm past him. 

No, he couldn’t watch her walk out that door. Not again. 

He intercepted her, grabbing her by the arms and holding her in front of him. He didn’t have any words to convince her otherwise, not even to convince himself. So he just stared at her, willing her to understand him.

It made her heart flutter.

She didn’t know who moved first — she frankly didn’t want to know who moved first — but in an instant they were on each other. The world around them ceased to exist except for the feel of each other’s skin, the taste of each other’s lips, the tear of each other’s clothes.

“Oh, you’ve gotta be kidding me!”

They were brought back to earth just long enough to yell at Iguchi to get out. He was more than eager to oblige, running out into the hall and slamming the door shut so fast behind him, he didn’t even care that he’d left his phone in there. Trying to grab it now was so not fucking worth it.

All of the confusion he had about their relationship had suddenly disappeared. It all made perfect sense why she was just as wrapped up in his life as he was in hers now. The explanation was simple.

“Those are the dumbest smart people I’ve ever met.” he muttered, shoving his hands in his pockets and making his way down the hall.

It was a familiar flurry of hands and tongues and unspoken feelings. She could hear fabric ripping and buttons popping as more and more skin was exposed to the stuffy heat of Shigaraki’s room. She almost slipped over the scattered clothes on the ground as he guided her back towards his bed, she couldn’t tell if the tattered shirt under her foot was his or hers.

He shoved her down onto the wrinkled sheets like he’d done so many times before, but for some reason this felt so much more intense. Maybe it was the fact that they had been in the middle of a fight leading up to it, or that she could actually feel Shigaraki’s bare chest pressing tight against her own.

Or maybe it was the fact that she was actually kissing back. 

There was no hesitance or resistance, not even the thinly-veiled excuses she’d make when she told herself that she wasn’t looking forward to this. No denial. She was wanting this wholly and completely, and it filled her with a feeling she didn’t think she’d ever feel, sometimes.

Well, it filled her with that , and with panic.

How was this happening again? What even was happening? Was this make-up sex? She didn’t want it to be. So then was it goodbye sex? She didn’t want it to be that either! She didn’t want any of this! Was he just going to leave without a word when he was done? Shove her out the front door since it was his room? Was this her life now? Was it all just a game to him? 

And if it was, is this what it meant for him to win?

This was all happening too fast. Shigaraki’s lips burned electric across her skin as he kissed down her chest. It was all so hot, too hot. Breaking her apart from the inside. She couldn’t breathe. Fuck— he wasn’t even on her lips and she couldn’t breathe! This was too much.

“S-Stop—” she gasped out.

He chuckled into her skin, hearing at first only the same kind of “we can’t” resistance that he’d heard yesterday, “Oh, you want me to stop?”

“Yes, please!” she cried out, “Tomura, stop !”

He stopped in his tracks, his own name and the genuine panic in her voice shocking his entire system. Out of all the times he’d imagined her calling him by his first name on her own, he never thought it would be like this. With shoving against his chest and fear in her eyes.

Shigaraki sat up on her hips, “What’s wrong?”

“N-Nothing—”

“It’s obviously not nothing,” he scowled, “Did I hurt you or something?”

“No, I just— W-We can’t… I can’t do this…”

She shoved him off of her and scrambled to grab her clothes from the floor.

“Where are you going?” he demanded as she pulled on her tank top and sweater.

“I don’t know.”

“What do you mean you don’t know?!”

“I mean that I don’t know,” she choked, hands shaking so bad, she couldn’t manage to line up her zipper, “I-I just need to get out of here. I need to think—”

“Why the fuck can’t you think here?”

“Because you’re not giving me the chance to!” she snapped, dropping the zipper to shout at him, “I mean, fuck ! Twenty-four hours ago we were becoming friends, and now we’re this! Just what am I supposed to make of all that?!”

He stood and stormed up to her, “Why do you have to make anything of it? You liked it right?! You want to do it again, so let’s just do it! Tell Mirio, don’t tell Mirio, who cares at this point?!”

“I don’t want to do that!”

“Then what do you want?!

“I DON’T KNOW!”

Shigaraki froze, almost knocked back by the volume and desperation in her scream.

“Has that never once occurred to you?! That maybe I’m not some double-talking mastermind hiding everything!? That maybe I just don’t know what I want?!”

This was her breaking point. The pressure, the lies, the feelings — it all finally became too much for her to bear all in one piece.

“I don’t. I just straight up don’t, alright?! I don’t know what I want to do with my life or my friends or even my freaking outfit tomorrow. I-I’m sorry I don’t have it all f-figured out like yo-ou!”

She dropped to the ground and the tears started to flow. Hot and violent and ugly, knocking Shigaraki completely off guard. He’d seen her tear up before — from frustrated hopelessness and an abused gag reflex — but never like this. She’d always had the strength to hold it back, to remain pretty and poised. But right now? She was openly and loudly weeping.

Shigaraki’s anger was gone in an instant, replaced by a dumbfounded panic. He wasn’t sure that he’d ever been this close to a crying girl, certainly never to one that he actually gave a shit about. He had no fucking clue what to do about it. Maybe something with his hands? Hug her? Pat her back? Tell her it was okay? 

None of those felt like the right option, for a myriad of reasons, none of which he could totally understand. So he found himself latching onto the literal words she’d said, the only thing that made sense right now.

He knelt down in front of her, breathing, “...I don’t have it all figured out.”

“Then why the hell do you expect me to?!” she demanded, smacking his chest suddenly. He fell onto his butt against his bed.

“Oi—!”

“I don’t know what I want, Shigaraki… But all the lying and the yelling and the mind games here… I know it’s not this,” she looked up at him, “I mean, is this what you want? Can you honestly say that you’re happy with this situation?”

“Of course not,” he spat, turning away.

“Then how about we swap roles here for a second. Why don’t you tell me what you want, Shigaraki? Honestly.”

He refused to look at her.

“Do you just want to toy with me?”

No.

“Do you want to date me?”

Yes.

“What do you want from me?”

Everything he couldn’t have.

“I told you already,” he muttered, “I want to be friends.”

She stared at him, not believing him for a second.

“Really? That’s all?”

But he stood firm.

“Yeah.”

She almost laughed, pitifully, turning around and scooching across that God-forsaken carpet to lean against the bed next to Shigaraki, “Yeah well, I know that you don’t have a whole lot of experience in the friend game — but normally, friends don’t have sex with each other.”

“Some do.”

“ Some also aren’t in long-term relationships.”

“Well that’s a pretty easy fix.”

“So let me get this straight. You want me to leave my boyfriend so that I can exclusively be your fuck buddy? And nothing else? No other commitment or anything? Is that seriously supposed to sound appealing?”

He finally turned to her, “I want you to leave your boyfriend because even if you don’t know exactly what you want, we both know that it’s not Mirio.”

She smiled sadly, “Yeah, it’s probably not. But I want to at least give it a try. A real try. Without all of this sneaking around going on.”

“Didn’t you already give it a try though?” he spat, “The whole fucking year before you met me?”

“I mean… No . I don’t even know if I liked him when he asked me out. I just… couldn’t think of a reason to say no. And then I totally half-assed it the whole time.”

“Isn’t that reason enough?”

“It’s not that simple, Shigaraki. We… We’ve been dating for almost a year. And we were friends before that. I care about him and we’ve been through a lot together… I don’t want him to think I was just fucking with him this whole time,” she explained, “I don’t want to waffle or do this on a whim. I don’t want to just think we’re not right for each other. I want to know. ”

Shigaraki sneered, “It sounds to me like you’re scared.”

“Yeah, I am. But you know what?” she turned to him, “Leaving him just to go rely on someone else isn’t going to fix that.”

He couldn’t keep the scowl from his face. It’s not like he could exactly blame her. It was like she’d said, he wasn’t exactly offering a lot to entice her. He wasn’t giving her the same vulnerability that he was expecting. But didn’t she understand that he couldn’t do that? She had to have a feeling about the type of pressure that was on him now, right? The weakness he was and wasn’t allowed to feel? She didn’t have those limits. She had a loving family and a wide-open future and an ability to sleep at night. Couldn’t she just…?

Just what ? He didn’t even know anymore. 

He almost jumped when she covered his hand with her own.

“Shigaraki, you are… unfortunately , someone I can’t imagine not having in my life anymore. But…” she winced, struggling to admit that, “...I’ll manage if I have to. I don’t expect you to just wait around for me, it sounds like there won’t be anything for either of us even if you do. So if you stick around, I need it to be as my friend. My real friend. No strings.”

There was a part of Shigaraki that was beyond pissed off. She couldn’t be friendzoning him harder right now. But somehow, it was completely overshadowed by the side of him acknowledging that, even with that, she was being more open and honest than he even had the capability of being. She was actively telling him that she wanted him in her life. He hadn’t even gotten that far.

So in a way… he won .

Of course, it certainly didn’t feel like it. There was something very bitter about the whole situation, especially knowing that this was probably the best case scenario for how this huge fucking mess could turn out. 

She flinched as he reached an arm over her shoulder, bracing herself to reject an advance or accept a rejection. But to her surprise, neither came. Shigaraki instead pulled her into a hug. An awkward one — his arm slinging limp across her shoulders, her forehead knocking into his cheek. The most platonic and comforting side hug he could offer. 

“...I can do that.”

She looked up at him, hopefully.

“For real this time?”

He just stared forward.

“Yeah… For real this time.”

She smiled and let her head drop a little deeper into his shoulder, falling into a scent and sturdiness that had, without her realizing it, become a comfort to her. They had actually come to an agreement finally.

And yet neither one of them felt totally happy about it.

Chapter Text

She really didn’t know what to expect the first time she went back to Shigaraki’s place for a study session after their… discussion . They were trying to find a new normal — one that didn’t involve yelling and backsliding and sex, and two out of the two previous attempts at this had been completely unsuccessful. 

Needless to say she had some serious doubts that any of this was going to work. She wasn’t sure that it was possible to ever just be friends with Tomura Shigaraki. And she was really scared of what that meant. Best case scenario, it meant that they probably would never see each other again.

And that thought pained her way more than she’d ever admit.

So she was pretty surprised when she entered his apartment that day and found not the usual empty living room, but Shigaraki himself, spreading out his textbooks on the dining table. And Kurogiri too, assembling a delightful little tray of snacks and braising a rack of lamb in the attached, open-concept kitchen with no signs of leaving the room. 

“What’s going on here?”

Shigaraki answered simply, “Tutoring.”

“Down here?”

“I’ve got my own work to do today, so I thought a set-up like this made more sense,” he answered.

Wait… had Shigaraki actually set up their session in the living room, a public place, where they couldn’t get out of control?

“Did you have somewhere else in mind?” he asked.

Without even thinking, she answered, “I, uh, I guess I’m just surprised that you don’t want to do it in your room.”

Shigaraki smirked, “Do you want to go to my room?”

“N-No, this is fine!” she squeaked, eagerly taking her seat, “This is great, actually.”

He chuckled and tossed a stack of practice tests to her side of the table.

“Here are the study guides you missed. Review ‘em and then you should do a couple practice tests since you’re behind.”

She looked up at him with a scowl, fully ready to rebuke and rebuttal whatever snarky comment or patronizing smirk he’d throw her way for why she was behind. But there was no judgment or passive aggression waiting for her. He’d just stated it simply and opened his own laptop to work. It didn’t matter how long she waited either, no dig came. If he was holding onto any bitterness right now, it didn’t show.

Feeling her stare, Shigaraki glanced up, “What?”

“N-Nothing!” she dropped her head to dive into her work, praying to God that he didn’t see the red dusting her cheeks, “Just zoned out so… Yeah, nothing.”

His mouth twitched up. He absolutely did notice. But he chose not to say anything about it, instead pushing his laptop across the table towards her.

“Hey, what do you think of this paragraph?”

She looked back up at him, beyond surprised, “You want my help?”

“I want your opinion ,” he corrected pointedly.

She turned the laptop towards her, still a bit baffled, but looking over the document on screen regardless.

“I had the first two sentences switched originally,” he explained, “But I’m wondering if it actually makes a difference.”

She read through the section a few times before scrolling back to the intro paragraph.

“It’s for a history class?” she asked as she read over his thesis, “Not creative writing or anything?”

“Right.”

“I’d go with the way you had it,” she answered, turning the laptop back to him, “It connects more directly to your thesis statement.”

“Hm,” he made the switch and then reread his work, wondering aloud, “Do you think I should just cut the second sentence entirely?”

“No, no, it’s not fluff or anything. But when you open with that sentence, it definitely reads as more of a decorative lead-in rather than supportive evidence.”

Shigaraki nodded thoughtfully as Kurogiri approached with their snack tray.

“Can I get you any coffee or tea?” he asked her as he set it down on the table in front of her.

“Coffee sounds great. Thanks!” she said, her mouth watering at the assortment of stupidly expensive-looking snacks on display.

Kurogiri nodded politely and turned to his ward, “Tomura Shigaraki?”

He didn’t look up from his screen when he answered, “We got any barley tea?”

She paused, the leaning charcuterie tower of baked brie, duck salami, roasted fig, and truffle crackers she’d assembled stopping just short of her lips.

“Yes, I just picked some up yesterday,” Kurogiri answered, pointedly holding back the “by your request” that sat on the tip of his tongue.

“I’ll take that hot.”

“Right away.”

She couldn’t fight the smile that it all brought to her face. It made her charcuterie masterpiece taste all the better.

She’d meant it when she said that she wanted to try with Mirio. Really, she did. Even if for a totally selfish reason that if she was going to break up with him, she wanted to make it a decisive, clean break. 

If she was being painfully honest, she had never really given it her all in this relationship. It’d be generous to say she’d even given her half. And walking away from that just didn’t feel fair to either of them. She didn’t want the reason this relationship failed to be because she didn’t put in the effort. She wanted to know that it wasn’t right because they weren’t right together. Not because she was lazy.

And so here she was, doing the whole girlfriend song and dance. Texting with him every day, coming up with surprises and gestures of her own, and making dates a priority. Even the ones she really didn’t want to go on. 

Like this one. She really didn’t want to go on this one.

“Do you think Gran Torino’s gonna show up? I know he died in the last movie, but they hinted in the trailer that there might be some time travel in this one.”

“Who knows,” she shrugged, taking a sip of her coffee.

It’s not like she had anything against going to the movies. But the nth entry in Phase 3.14 of the Who-Even-Knew-the-Difference Cinematic Universe sounded like literally the most boring way to pass three hours that she could think of. Unfortunately, Mirio had been so excited when he waved the tickets in front of her that she couldn’t even think about suggesting they see something else.

Well, at least the cafe attached to the theater was nice.

“Do you think we have time to order one of those cakes before the movie starts?” she asked, eying a particularly decadent strawberry shortcake sparkling in the display case.

“Oh yeah, we’ve still got about ten minutes before the previews,” he grinned at her, “Are you sure you won’t fill up before the popcorn?”

“Shortcake goes to the dessert stomach, Mirio. Everyone knows that.”

Mirio laughed, “Alright, alright I’m convinced.”

As he turned to grab his wallet from his jacket hanging on the back of his chair, Mirio noticed someone across the theater lobby.

“Hey isn’t that Miko?”

She followed where Mirio pointed and scowled. Walking into the multiplex was, indeed, their teammate Miko. On the arm of a, no doubt, stupidly wealthy (and just plain stupid) guy of course.

It wasn’t like she had anything against Miko personally. The two even hung out often enough that she’d usually refer to the girl as her friend. But Miko had been particularly, what was the nice way of putting it— bitchy towards her ever since the team dinner. Ignoring her greetings or contributions to conversations, helping Nejire and Yuyu put away club equipment and only Nejire and Yuyu, and it even seemed like there were times where she purposefully closed the door on her when she could’ve held it open. It was all catty, passive aggressive Regina George bullshit that she was having less and less tolerance for these days and made her less than thrilled to see the girl on what was supposed to be a light, fun day off.

“We should say hi!” 

“You know, I’d kind of prefer it if we didn’t.”

Mirio gave her a confused look, “We’re seniors babe. Making underclassmen feel welcome is part of the gig.”

“But they’re not welcome here,” she argued, “We’re on a date, Mirio.”

“Yeah, and it looks like she’s on one too. We should make it a double!” he said, waving his hand high before she could protest again, “Hey Miko-chan! Over here!”

Miko glanced over at the call, but just as quickly looked away when she realized who it was, trying desperately to pretend like she hadn’t heard him. Mirio however, clearly didn’t get the message and continued to just wave and holler away until her date finally nudged her and she could no longer ignore it. She sighed and made her way over to them, looking just as enthused to have this conversation as Mirio’s own date.

“Hey Togata-senpai,” Miko greeted with a strained smile.

“What’s up?! You guys on a date?”

“Uh-huh,” she shrugged as her companion nodded with an excited blush.

“That’s awesome! What movie are you guys seeing?”

“Uhh, that new superhero movie — what was it called, Mighty-Man or something?”

“All Might Three: The Mighty Have Fallen,” her date corrected excitedly.

“Yeah that thing,” she answered, barely leaving the word dumb out of her explanation.

“Hey, us too!” Mirio beamed, “We should all sit together!”

Miko smiled uncomfortably, “Sorry, we’re actually not seeing it right now. We’re just here to buy our tickets.”

“We are?” her date asked, earning a swift elbow to the ribs.

“Yes. We are .” she grit.

Mirio’s brows furrowed, watching the two. His BS meter may have been practically defective, but the lies Miko was putting out were so off the charts that even he could sense something was off. Particularly since she was almost never one to turn down a group date.

“I’m sorry, should I not have said hi? I didn’t mean to annoy you guys.”

“ You didn’t do anything wrong, Mirio-senpai,” Miko answered, looking pointedly at his date.

She cocked a brow at her, “And just what the hell did I do?”

“Nothing at all,” Miko rolled her eyes and turned to leave, “Have a nice date you two.”

Okay, seriously? She was seriously gonna pull that ? No, this petty crap stopped now.

“If you have something to say, why don’t you say it to my face?” she snapped, rising from her chair.

“Babe ,” Mirio whispered, trying to get her to sit down.

“What, you want to do this right now?” Miko turned back to her with a scoff.

“Yeah, I do,” she said, “You’ve been ignoring me and being passive aggressive all week. What’s up?”

Miko huffed, insisting, “I meant it. You didn’t do a damn thing,” before crossing her arms angrily, "It was that gross weirdo friend of yours.”

Her brows furrowed, “Shigaraki?”

“Yeah, Shigaraki.”

Her stomach dropped. Oh God. What was she talking about? Was it just the way he’d treated her in the restaurant? Or was there more ? 

She’d assumed when Miko ran out that day, that Shigaraki had just been rude and told her off, but Miko seemed especially disgusted right now. Had they done something after all? What if he’d met up with Miko at a hotel or called her over to his place after and that’s why he didn’t answer his phone? He certainly had the refractory period to accomplish it. 

A thousand images of the two of them naked and contorted in every which way flashed through her head, of him pulling some weird crap that would freak Miko out, weird crap that she thought was only for her .

The thoughts made her feel sick, and not even over the rumor mill that would undoubtedly start working overtime if something like that were to happen. 

Damn it, she didn’t want to know. But she had to know. She had to gird herself for the next time she’d face Shigaraki with whatever new information she was about to receive. 

Even so, she could feel the bile burning in the back of her throat when she finally asked, “...what’d he do?”

“He basically called me a dumb, boring golddigger,” she ranted, “Told me that he had onaholes that cost more than me and definitely had more interesting things to say!”

…

Oh thank fucking God.

She tried not to absolutely burst out in screaming (and relieved ) laughter, but it was really hard.

“Why didn’t you warn me that he was such an asshole?!” Miko demanded.

She snorted, “I’m pretty sure that I explicitly did.”

“Oh whatever,” Miko scoffed, “I just don’t get how you can be friends with someone that’s so rude !” 

“Well, I’m friends with you,” she shrugged.

Mirio snapped to her, absolutely shocked, “ Babe !”

“You’re a bitch,” Miko spat, grabbing her date by the arm and storming off.

“Takes one to know one!” she called after her.

“Oh my God, babe, stop !” Mirio practically begged, yanking her back down into her chair, “What are you doing?”

“I’d say I’m winning,” she laughed, taking a drink of her coffee.

“Well I’d say you’re being mean.”

She paused, “Excuse me?”

“I don’t get why you have to go and pick a fight like that.”

“What are you talking about?” she demanded, setting her coffee on the table with noticeably more force than before, “ She picked a fight with me!”

“Can you blame her? She’s upset! Your friend hurt her feelings,” he cried, “I would think that you’d have a little more understanding and maturity knowing that. And not stoop down to her level.”

She blinked.

“I’m sorry…” she almost laughed, having to repeat what he just said to herself, because it did not seem real, “Are you of all people telling me to be mature? Is that really what’s happening right now?”

His brows furrowed, “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Because the guy that asks my parents if they want any peaches from the store and then wiggles his ass around is just the pinnacle of maturity, right?”

Mirio threw his hands up in the air, “Your Dad thought it was hilarious!”

“It embarrassed the hell out of me! I told you that it embarrassed the hell out of me, but you still keep making that stupid joke!”

“But—!”

“—And for that matter, I told you not to wave Miko over, and you did it anyway! So who’s fault was this all really?!”

“I’m the Captain of the swim team, it would’ve been rude not to greet her!” 

“That’s so not even the point, Mirio! You do this all the time!” she shouted, standing suddenly, “You never listen to me!”