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“I can’t stay in a house like this anymore!” she shrieks. “I’m tired of walking on eggshells, of being scared to even look at him!” She’s shoving clothing into an open suitcase as she yells, not stopping to fold things and put them up properly.
“And what, you’re gonna leave me here with him?” he hisses. “You think I’m not tired of it too? What makes this any different? You’re his mother, goddamnit!”
“And i never should have had him!” She slams her suitcase shut, clothing still sticking out of it as she marches toward the door. “Call me when he’s gone!”
“Suzume, stop!” he roars, pushing past the boy in the doorway to grab her arm. He yanks her back. “You leave me with him and you’re killing me!”
“Then you get rid of him!” Suzume cries. Tears are running down her cheeks as she rips her arm away. “You and Tenko are not my problem anymore, Itsuki!” She yanks open the door to their apartment. “Let him rot, for all I care!”
The door slams just as Itsuki starts to scream her name again, but she’s long gone. He runs to the window, glaring as he watches her climb into a taxi outside the apartment building. When the vehicle leaves, Itsuki finally notices the small, hiccupping cries from the doorway to his bedroom.
Tenko Shimura stands, red eyes wet and face dripping with tears, his hands held tight to his chest. He’s not allowed to touch anything in the house, he knows that. He’s watching his enraged father with fear in his eyes, and when he opens his mouth to speak, his voice is strained.
“Wh--where’s mama going…?” he whimpers. Itsuki snarls and grabs Tenko by the back of his shirt collar, dragging him along the ground in strides too big for his feet to keep up with.
“What have I told you?” he spits. “Stay in your room! You don’t leave, you don’t touch, you don’t speak! It’s not that hard!”
Tenko is shoved back into his dark bedroom, and the door is slammed shut before he can say anything. The lock clicks.
Tomura wakes with a small start, and he’s surprised to find his room bright instead of the opposite. He sits up, his palms the only things touching the mattress as he does so, and then runs a hand through his tangled hair.
The bedrooms above the bar that Kurogiri owns are small but accommodating. A small mattress on the floor, a bookshelf, a desk, and a small couch. Though he’s certain the other rooms are well decorated for when the league’s members visit, Tomura’s is lacking in personality. He doesn’t see much of a point in decor after all. So his walls are bare and his covers are a solid red, and his closet is filled with monotonous colors and clothing. He likes it this way. It’s simpler this way.
He shuts the curtains on the window, blocking out the worst of the light, and then moves to his closet. He discards his sleep pants and pulls on black jeans and a matching hoodie, pulling the hood up over his head to hide the messy hair that he knows he won’t bother brushing. His red sneakers are by the door, and he slips them on before heading down the stairs to the bar itself.
Kurogiri was nice enough to lend them this place when the league first formed. Apparently, his father once owned it, and intended for Kurogiri to take over the family business. When it was left to him in the man’s will, Kurogiri turned the top few floors into apartments which were usually only rented out for a few weeks at a time on a good day. Tomura’s master offered Kurogiri a substantial amount of money to use the bar and its residential spaces as a base of locations for Tomura’s mission, and ever since the league and its associates have been given a room to stay in at their leisure.
“Mornin’, hon.” Magne. She’s here a lot, Tomura notes. She’s here early, eating a plate of breakfast that either she made for herself or Kurogiri cooked for her. He waves in greeting before making his way to the bar and sitting on one of the stools.
Kurogiri is cleaning up for the day’s customers--the bar still operates as a business after all--and nods when Tomura sits down. “Good morning.” he greets. “Did you rest well, Tomura Shigaraki?”
The young man sighs and shakes his head. “It’s fine.” he lies. “I’d rather be awake anyway.” Though his face isn’t visible, Tomura can tell that Kurogiri is frowning, his glowing eyes narrowed.
“You know,” Magne pipes up. “Sometimes it helps to listen to a little music.” she offers. “Before I moved to this part of town, there was so much traffic on the streets outside that I couldn’t get a wink of sleep. You start playin’ Beethoven when you go to sleep and you’ll pass right out.”
He knows she’s trying to help, even if she doesn’t seem entirely serious, and Tomura offers her a small smile over his shoulder, which she returns tenfold. “Thanks.” he mutters. “I’ll try it tonight.” He’ll forget.
Tomura rests his head on the counter, letting his eyes close. “Kurogiri.” he says. “Do you have enough time before we open to make me something to eat?” he asks. Normally one might see the request as rude, but Kurogiri is used to helping Tomura with such small things.
“Of course.” comes his response. Kurogiri nods to both Tomura and Magne and then heads toward the back room where the kitchen is. Tomura sighs and decides it won’t hurt to drift off again while he waits for breakfast.
The plate practically thrown in front of him has very little food on it. There’s a small scoop of rice with a little bit of soy sauce almost haphazardly drizzled over the top, some sliced vegetables, and a rather sad looking slice of meat. His father’s plate has the same things on it, but in much larger quantities, and it seems he saved the best part of the pork for himself. Tenko presses his hands together and bows his head, whispering a thank you under his breath before beginning to eat.
He’s not allowed to touch the utensils. Chopsticks, forks, spoons, nothing, and he’s not allowed to touch the plates or bowls either. Tenko keeps his hands balled up in his shirt before starting to eat, more akin to a dog than a child. Itsuki Shimura sits across from him, reading over a newspaper as he eats. Silence passes between them for a few long minutes before one of them speaks.
“Your door was unlocked this morning.” Itsuki says, his tone dark. “How did that happen?”
Tenko’s eyes go wide with fear and he shakes his head, wiping his mouth on his sleeve. “I--I don’t know.” he says quickly. “I’m sorry. I didn’t--”
“You’re supposed to follow three very simple rules, Tenko. I need you to keep that up now that your mother’s gone. Do you remember what those rules are?” Tenko nods. “What are they?”
“I don’t leave my room, I don’t touch anything, and I don’t talk unless I’m spoken to.” he whispers, his voice small and shaking.
“Good.” Itsuki spits. “So why was your door unlocked? That breaks two of the rules.”
“I didn’t unlock it!” Tenko protests, his eyes welling up with tears. “I didn’t, I promise!”
“Go.”
“But I didn’t--!”
“Go!”
“I don’t know how--!”
Tenko is suddenly grabbed by his collar again and yanked out of his chair at the table. The sudden movement causes him to cry out, and Itsuki slams a hand over the boy’s mouth. “Keep your mouth shut!” he yells. “After everything I’ve done for you, now you go breaking the rules!”
Tenko isn’t sure what comes over him, but he bites down hard on the hand over his mouth. His father cries out in pain and his hand jerks back, and the second Tenko sees that look in his eye he begins to scream apologies.
“I’m sorry!” he shouts. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry! I didn’t mean to, I’m sorry!”
His father hits him, right across the cheek. It’s the first time he’s done anything like that, and the sting makes Tenko’s voice evaporate. “Shut up.” Itsuki snarls. “You keep your damn mouth shut, it’s not that hard--!”
Tenko shoves him. It’s the only thing he can think of. Papa’s never hit him, all the rules are in place for a reason, but Papa has never ever hit him. So he shoves Itsuki. Each of his ten little fingers lands on his father’s collar and the two of them realize what that means the millisecond it happens.
Itsuki chokes and drops Tenko, who scrambles back in fear. His father’s skin begins to crack like glass, peeling away like dried paint to reveal the muscle beneath. The spiderwebs of cracking flesh continue to travel up his neck and beneath his clothes, and Itsuki’s chest turns dark red as blood begins to seep into the fabric.
Tenko watches in horror, apologizing before he even knows he’s speaking as if it’ll take it back.He didn’t mean to do it. One of the rules is not to touch anything and he knows why--and now he’s suffering the consequences.
Itsuki lands hard on his knees. His face is halfway gone now, sinew peeling off of bone and bone turning to dust. His jaw falls off of his skull and vanishes before it can hit the ground. He falls over face-first in front of Tenko, his spine now visible through his shirt as more and more muscle falls away. In a matter of agonizing minutes, there’s nothing left but blood-soaked clothing--and a single hand. It seems the metal pin in his father’s wrist from when he broke it as a boy stopped the infectious quirk from taking his hand as a whole.
Tenko is shaking like a leaf in a hurricane when it’s over. He’s sobbing, still whispering apologies, and he reaches forward carefully and picks up the dismembered hand with his thumb and his forefinger. Another sob bursts forth, and Tomura wakes up shouting for his father.
Magne is the first to respond, rushing over to her leader with a concerned look written across her face. Suichi and Jin are just entering the bar when she reaches him and the two of them immediately notice something is wrong.
Tomura is shaking almost violently, his nails digging into the bar, which only manages to survive thanks to the fact that it’s only his nails sinking into it. Tears are falling from his wide red eyes in fat globs and he’s suddenly very aware that he didn’t bring his father’s hand downstairs with him. He didn’t think he would need it.
Suichi runs to fetch Kurogiri and Jin stands dumbfounded in the doorway still, unsure of what to do to help. Magne shushes Tomura as he shakes, and she doesn’t stop until Kurogiri arrives to take her place. He nods in thanks to her before wrapping his arms around Tomura’s shoulders and helping the boy stand.
The air next to the two of them splits open as Kurogiri summons a gate, and they vanish into it, likely taking Tomura up to his room. When they’re gone, it’s Jin who speaks up first.
“Is he okay?” he asks. “Seems fine!” Magne shakes her head, brow still furrowed.
“I think he dozed off while Kurogiri was makin’ him breakfast.” she says. “Might’ve had a bad dream but… I don’t know what if it made him react like that.” Suichi puts a hand on her shoulder.
“He’ll be okay.” he assures her, but Magne shakes her head again.
“You know, it’s easy to forget out in the field, but… he’s still just a kid.” she sighs.
By the time Kurogiri gets Tomura into his bedroom, the poor thing is crying and trying desperately to stop himself. The door shuts and Tomura spins on his heel, burying his face in Kurogiri’s chest as he cries. His hands are curled into fists to keep his fingertips from touching anything he doesn’t want to, and Kurogiri carefully wraps his arms around Tomura.
It’s not the first time he’s had to comfort Tomura during a breakdown, that’s for sure. Kurogiri has seen the boy through a lot of breakdowns, many worse than this one, and one Tomura’s crying has quieted a bit, he moves the two of them over to his mattress, sitting him down.
“It was a nightmare, wasn’t it?” Kurogiri asks. Tomura wipes his face and nods. “Was it about your father?” Another nod. “Shall I fetch him?”
“Please--” Tomura chokes out. Kurogiri pats the boy’s shoulder before he stands and moves to the desk nearby. The dismembered hand lie palm-up in the center, and he’s cautious as he returns it to Tomura. Once it’s back in his hands, Tomura seems to calm down substantially, and he curls into himself as if embracing the thing.
“Are you still hungry?” Kurogiri asks. “I’d be happy to bring your plate up.” Tomura makes a small noise of approval and Kurogiri nods, opening another gate.
The second he does, however, he’s greeted with an array of worried faces. It seems the rest of the league’s members arrived and Magne was kind enough to fill them in.
“Aw, Mister Handyman!” Himiko cries, pushing past the others and through the gate before Kurogiri can even think to close it. “Big Sis said you had a bad dream and you got all scared!” Then she gasps. “Oh no, you’re crying!”
“Go away.” Tomura spits, partly interrupting her. Himiko doesn’t seem to care though, because she tugs at the scarf around her neck and then plops down on the mattress next to Tomura, offering it to him.
“Here!” she says, smiling brightly. “I don’t have any tissues but this’ll work!”
That’s all the others need. Kurogiri tries to protest, but the rest of them push past him and into the room gathering around Tomura on his small bed.
Himiko continues to hold up her scarf, her head resting on Tomura’s shoulder, and Magne drapes an arm around him in a half-hug. Suichi and Jin are jabbering back and forth, each of them pointing out every tiny strength they see in Tomura.
“You’re like, super fast!”
“And you’re awful at video games!”
“You idiot, get it right, none of us have ever been able to beat him!”
“That’s what I said!”
Atsuhiro’s form of comfort is a bit more subtle and textbook, as he picks up Tomura’s bed covers and drapes them over the boy’s shoulders. Magne assists, moving her arm briefly to allow more room before returning to her half-embrace.
“Hey, Creep.” Dabi mutters. Himiko shoots him a dirty look and he holds up his hand to stop her before she can scold him. “Next time you have a shitty dream or something that messes you up this bad, just tell us.” he says. “We’re kinda stuck here, so we sorta have to care about you.”
Himiko coos. “Aww, Dabi!” she cries forgetting Tomura for a moment to jump up and wrap her arms around Dabi’s neck, dragging him into the pile atop the mattress. Tomura grunts as Dabi is knocked into the group.
Kurogiri is smiling, they can all tell, and when his eyes meet Tomura’s he asks, “Will you be alright while I get your breakfast?”
Tomura feels his face heat up a bit, and he turns to look away--briefly forgetting Magne on his other side, which only makes his face heat up further. Finall, he buries his head in his arms and nods in response.
Kurogiri steps through the still-open gate, and before it closes, Himiko calls after him, “Don’t think you can just ignore the cuddle pile, Mist Man! Got a spot right next to Sako for ya!”
Kurogiri laughs as the gate closes. “I’ll keep that in mind.”