He always liked the sound of rain. Showers, sinks, bathtubs, he’d turn them all on at once and just listen for hours, sometimes without even bothering to wash himself. Luckily, AFO never had to worry about things like utility bills, he had people to take care of that and he himself enjoyed lounging for hours in his jacuzzi. It wasn’t until years later, when he had Kurogiri, that he learned the sound of dripping water could be soothing. It didn’t make much sense to him, he was always angry anyway.
Now, as he sat in the bathtub letting the water wash the grime from his skin, his mind wandered to those and other memories. There was nothing pressing to focus on, no plans to make, no lessons to absorb, no one to observe. It gave him time to reflect, to make sure he still remembered.
He stretched his hand out in front of him, turning it over and examining both sides. Every time he blinked, it seemed to change. Sometimes appearing human, other times segmented like a prosthetic or a doll’s hand. In both cases, it was cracked and scarred, with marks he had earned or inflicted on himself.
Looking at his skin, he was certain it would split and peel away, but he didn’t worry about it. All that would remain of his presence here would be his hair, assuming Kurogiri didn’t clean up after him. Even if his skin fell away, it would turn to dust. There were no wounds to bleed, and he planned to put on gloves the moment he finished bathing, ensuring he wouldn’t destroy anything. And fingerprints? He would have to have those first.
He ran his smooth fingertips over his hand, remembering how he could always piss off the Doctor in seconds or even quicker. Not always on purpose, but sometimes...
“-Why don’t I have fingerprints?”
“-Your quirk removed them.”
“-It’s simple. You destroy everything. Since anything you touch is bound to perish, there’s no point in you leaving a trace behind.”
“-Can you just listen to what’s being said to you for once?!”
…he couldn’t help himself.
Sighing, he took one last deep breath and submerged himself, closing his eyes and listening to the sounds around him. The shower hitting the surface of the water muffled things slightly, but he could still hear Kurogiri moving about and arranging things. He could also hear water running through the pipes, likely from neighbors bathing as well, and footsteps overhead as someone ran across the room above him.
He stayed like that for a few seconds, until the sensation of losing control over his body returned. His senses began to fade. Opening his eyes, he was met with nothing but darkness. He tried to hear anything, but couldn’t, he tried to call for Kurogiri, but nothing came out of his mouth. Hours later, when he opened them again and found himself on the couch, with no memory of how he got there.
Kurogiri unplugged the laptop and connected a power bank. Tomura had been watching this apartment for two days since he’d noticed a group of friends moving their belongings and mentioning something about the new apartment. They had left a few hours ago, and now the space was theirs for the night. As long as they didn’t make any suspicious or particularly loud noises, the neighbors wouldn’t suspect anything, and no one would call the police or the landlord. That meant they could relax, at least for a little while.
They’d managed to avoid any serious trouble despite wandering through dark alleys, sleeping on the streets, and stealing from vending machines. The only incident had been the previous night, when they encountered a few drunk men, an encounter that ended with those men losing their wallets. Now they had some cash, which had allowed Nomu to do the laundry currently drying on the balcony. While going through the pockets, Kurogiri had found a brochure for a café he didn’t recognize. He wanted to ask about it, but he doubted the white-haired boy would respond if he hadn’t already brought it up himself.
Luckily, Kurogiri knew how to encourage him. He scanned the apartment, ensuring there was nothing else to take care of as he prepared a space on the couch for his young charge.
“The laptop is charged. He’ll probably start up a game before eating.”
He placed the laptop and Switch on the coffee table next to a bag of chips. Just in case Tomura wanted more, he’d also put a microwave meal in the microwave, ready to heat. Kurogiri understood that, after everything going on, Tomura would have liked to sit at his desk, fire up a shooter or some other PvP game, and yell at the top of his lungs at the first excuse. Sometimes, Kurogiri envied the “randoms” who didn’t have to hear the teenager. For now, though, Tomura would have to make do with the offline games available to him.
Nomu gathered all the pillows into one corner of the couch, ensured there was a cup of water in the fridge, and drew the curtains over all the windows.
“Maybe now he’ll say something?”
Squeak. Nomu turned toward the sound of the door.
He turned to see Tomura entering the room. The boy was wearing his cleanest clothes, but water still dripped from his hair. While he was visibly cleaner, he didn’t look any better. The exhaustion radiating off him was palpable. Nomu waited for a few seconds, hoping Tomura would say or do something, but the boy merely leaned against the doorframe.
No response. Nomu already suspected what was happening but needed to confirm it. He approached, placed a hand on Tomura’s back, and guided him to sit on the couch. The teenager glanced around the room with a distant, unfocused gaze before grabbing his laptop. Switching it to tablet mode, he began drawing.
Sometimes, Kurogiri saw Tomura in this state but could never pinpoint what triggered it or how long it would last. The boy usually “snapped out of it” after a few hours, only to deny that anything had happened, which worried him even more. Now he will have to keep an eye on him so that he doesn't hurt himself, although considering how he focused on drawing, he will have to worry about it for some time.
Despite everything, Tomura was handling the situation remarkably well, perhaps too well. In the blink of an eye, his entire life had crumbled, he was left without a roof over his head, without a place to go, without people to talk to, and on the second night he stopped caring about it. Even if this truly was just a test and AFO was somehow monitoring them or at least keeping tabs, they both knew AFO wouldn’t intervene to help, no matter how dire the situation became.
Kurogiri glanced at his phone, filled with notes, photos, and maps. A pang of guilt struck him. He felt he wasn’t doing enough, that it was Tomura who was taking care of him rather than the other way around. But it shouldn’t be that way. Kurogiri didn’t need food or water, only a few hours of rest weekly and occasional stabilization after intense exertion or too many injuries. That was all a Nomu of his caliber required.
He draped a blanket over Tomura, who didn’t react. The lines on the tablet were quickly taking shape, clear enough for Kurogiri to discern what it would be.
Was the boy thinking about going there? Swimming or building sandcastles? With how pale he was, he’d surely burn quickly unless they bought a few bottles of the strongest sunscreen. Kurogiri wished Tomura could have more joy in his life, meet peers, spend time like any other teenager, maybe even experience his first flutters?
But more than that, he wished he could take Tomura somewhere safe. The problem was, he didn’t know where that place could be.
[Morning, Back to Tomura]
Tomura bit his fingers as he stared at his clothes and his hands, barely fitting into the sleeves. He muttered something under his breath.
-I need new clothes. And a backpack, or…
-I cleaned the bathroom, and don’t chew your hands too much.
-Yea, yea, I won’t. Good job with the bathroom.
-…Do you think it’d look weird if I had a sport bag?
-Suspicious? I don’t think so.
-Ugh, You don’t get it. I’m not… big. Wouldn’t it look sus if I walked around with a bag like that?
-Buy resistance bands and a yoga mat.
Tomura stopped biting his fingers, but keep one if his mouths as he gave Nomu a confused look.
-Yoga is good for the whole body. The beginning poses aren’t too difficult, and you’re already agile and resilient.
-You sound like you want me to do it.
-It’s said to have a calming effect.
-SHUT THE—! - Tomura clenched his teeth and averted his gaze, refusing to give Nomu any more satisfaction. - What kind of bands were you even talking about?
-I’ll tell you if you tell me about this.
He bit down hard enough to draw blood when he noticed the brochure in Kurogiri’s misty hand.
-It’s nothing. - He muttered, stuffing his bleeding finger into the pocket of his hoodie to stop the bleeding.
-You’re not going to get into trouble, are you?
Tomura gritted his teeth, his irritation rising. He hated when Kurogiri got all superior, playing the "older and wiser" one.
-We need contacts! They’ll give us information and money! And that’s exactly what we need!
-I don’t disagree. But I’m worried you’re taking on too much.
Tomura’s face twisted into a confused scowl, one eyebrow raised and his lip curled. It was an expression he always made when something confused him.
Kurogiri’s form trembled slightly, his misty hands tightening into fists which was slightly visible through his hazy form, but Tomura noticed it and knew what was happening. Nomu was starting to glitch again.
-You are ambitious and… inde-ependent. I know that we-when yo-uu set yourself a goal, not much c-aan stop you. B-uut… I also know you’re not always the… most patient. I just don’t want you jumping in too deep before you’re ready.
Tomura couldn’t believe what his guardian was saying. Was he joking with him? If so, it wasn’t funny, even though he let out a slight chuckle.
-I haven’t done anything yet! My whole life I, haha! I’ve accomplished nothing! - He started to struggle with his breathing. - I have to do something for Sensei to come back! - He took a deep breath. - I have to…
Kurogiri felt a tremor in his own body, not wanting to see Tomura panic again, but he was caught in an internal struggle with himself.
-Y-You draw well! - Kurogiri said, handing him the tablet, hoping that seeing his drawing would, as usual, help him calm down. - And you taught yourself.
-No. I watched tutorials. - Tomura grabbed the tablet and started looking at the picture of the beach, not remembering that he had drawn it.
-But on your own. On your own… you a-also… learned sign language, soldering, and got all the achievements in Dark Souls.
-I'm not the only one who did that.
-An achievement is an achievement.
Tomura clenched his teeth. He always felt a little strange when Kurogiri complimented him, but he had a point. His patience had limits. He had to plan every step or he’d just dive in headfirst without realizing it.
One of the layers was named 'To do list' and was essentially a list of things to do, but he didn’t remember writing it.
"Buy regular clothes. White stands out too much."
"Don’t go to that café. Yet."
-A scrapyard on the beach?
-No. Maybe? Fuck! I don’t remember! - He raised the laptop, aiming it at the floor.
"Stop, no. Deep breaths. Remember."
Slowly, he lowered his hands, dragging the laptop down from his head, over his face, and finally hugging it.
He glanced around the living room, searching for clues that might jog his memory. The entire apartment had very little furniture, there wasn’t even a table or chairs, and the two small bedrooms only had beds, which maybe could fit two people. Also all the walls were white. The biggest plus of the place was the large balcony, where the previous tenants had kept six or seven bikes. That, among other things, was how he had quickly found the location.
"There weren't that many people living there. They didn’t take out sleeping bags, and two beds and a couch wouldn’t be enough for that many people. So why did they keep the bikes on the balcony? There’s plenty of room inside."
He looked at the rather large and empty balcony. A few months ago, it was probably as white as the rest of the apartment, but now, it was hard to find a spot untouched by weather or dirt. His eyes landed on a few colorful stains.
He closed his eyes, trying to recall what they had taken out was there anything noteworthy? He remembered suitcases, bags, and a dust mask that had… paint stains.
Someone was approaching. Both of them turned toward the front door, hearing a voice say, "This way, please," followed by the sound of keys in the lock.
He's certain he’s never fled from a room so quickly before. Thankfully, they were now ‘safe’ in some alleyway, and more importantly, he finally knew what he needed to do.
He couldn’t… no, he didn’t want to draw attention to himself. For that, he needed clothes that weren’t white, wouldn’t get dirty too quickly, and wouldn’t easily show bloodstains. Once his finger stopped bleeding, he changed into a different hoodie and headed for the nearest shopping center. He didn’t know the city well enough to have any idea where specific stores were, so at least this way, he was sure to find what he needed.
He moved toward the entrance, taking deep breaths and making sure his mask and hair covered as much of his face as possible.
“Two hoodies, two pairs of pants, a bag, and I’m out.”
He double-checked the cash in his pocket and stepped inside. At this early hour, there weren’t many people around, but enough that he wasn’t the only point of curiosity. He walked with his head slightly down, calmly mimicking the pace of the other shoppers.
"This looks like a women’s store. That one’s just suits. Where’s something normal?"
His neck began itching more intensely, tempting him to just turn around and leave or to just dig his fingers, but he managed to hold himself together.
"I can kill. Some shopping won’t defeat me."
He rarely went outside. There was no need. Food was always within reach, AFO bought him clothes and most other things he asked for since he behaved well. He was still bitter about not getting the tank he’d asked for, considering he’d been following orders and even learned how to drive a car.
He wandered around a bit longer, ready to leave when he spotted a shirt with The Witcher emblem on display. He’d planned to stick with something more plain, but there were posters featuring teenage models, so at least he knew this store had clothes more suited for someone his age. Without even stepping inside, he noticed a corner dedicated to The Witcher and Yellow King merchandise. The store wasn’t just for nerds, there weren’t any figurines, and most of the clothes were just dark with simple patterns.
“Kurogiri told me to buy something I like.”
He sat on a toilet seat, taking deep breaths. Shopping turned out to be more stressful than he’d imagined. He hoped he hadn’t drawn suspicion or that the cashier hadn’t called the cops, who’d be waiting for him as soon as he left the bathroom.
He spent way more money than he wanted to, but at least now he had something “non-white” and even got a discount card for future purchases. He hoped everything would fit since he hadn’t bothered with the fitting rooms, he just checked the tags to make sure the sizes matched his height.
The gray jeans were too long, so he had to roll them up. The black hoodie was also oversized, but it didn’t feel uncomfortable. Plus, it had red spider lily patterns on the sleeves, which he felt suited him too well. He thought about checking himself in the mirror but quickly looked away, as he hated mirrors. After pacing a little in the bathroom and taking one final deep breath, he stepped out.
He returned to Kurogiri not long after.
-I thought you wanted a sports bag?
“And the store with school stuff was next to the bathroom.”
The pillowcase would still store his white clothes, the new dark gray backpack would carry his tech and new outfits, and he also picked up a dark raincoat for Nomu so he can cover himself too. It didn’t help much, as Nomu’s “smoke” still faintly seeped through the material, but at least it would make blending into darker spaces easier.
After counting their money, he realized he’d spent about a third of what they had. He regretted a bit that they’d only taken cash from those drunken guys and hadn’t bothered with their bank accounts. Then again, he had no idea how to use ATMs and knew they had cameras, which clashed with his “don’t leave traces” approach.
-I need to track down those guys and keep an eye on them. They mentioned a junkyard, maybe it’s a code name for the place where they sell the bikes.
-Or maybe... it’s just a junkyard?
-I doubt it. If they’re painting the bikes themselves, it must be a small business. They’re probably stealing from one district. Still, it’s worth checking out the junkyard anyway.
-What do you want to do now?
-Teleport us somewhere there. - He pointed out the area on a map to Nomu. - There’s an official dump on the outskirts. Now it will be easier for me to blend, so I’ll roam around and try to find something interesting.
The junkyard was open until 21:00, giving him several hours to explore the surrounding area. For now, his plan was simple: just walk around and observe. He didn’t have many leads, but this was better than waiting for an opportunity to fall into his lap.
As usual, he left Nomu in an alley, ordering him to hide and stay put. While Nomu might not be the weirdest thing in the city, he’d still draw too much attention, and it would look strange if he followed Tomura everywhere. Plus, this was Tomura’s mission, the more he did on his own, the better. Even if it meant aimlessly wandering for hours until he got tired.
He sat down on a bench, listening to the sound of a nearby fountain. People moved back and forth, some talking on their phones, others chatting with friends. A few minutes after he sat down, a group of kids ran through the fountain. It felt strange to watch them like this, observing their behavior without worrying that he stood out too much. Especially after spotting another guy wearing jeans just like his own.
Looking down, he found himself thinking about buying more clothes. AFO always gave him white ones, insisting he looked best in them. He hoped that his Sensei wouldn’t think he looked stupid when he eventually won this challenge.
His mind wandered to the stories AFO used to tell him. About his early days, his first major operations, and how his cult came to be. Which was ironic, since he spotted one of its displays right across the fountain.
It looked like a family: two adults with two kids standing near a small stand with brochures about The New Dawn. Tomura wanted so badly to walk and just destroy it. But with so many potential witnesses around, he decided against it.
Scratching his neck, he watched the scene for a moment until something clicked.
“That’s not a family. That boy isn’t with them. Are they really trying to recruit him?”
He looked around, trying to spot someone else with purple hair who might be the boy’s parents, but he didn’t see anyone.
“Is he from an orphanage?”
The cultists were showing him pictures, telling him stories. The boy seemed a little excited, and no one around them seemed to care.
“Strangers inviting a kid to their home? He’s not theirs, so why noone give a crap? Where are the heroes when…?”
He blinked as he heard something.
"I'm sure a hero will help…."
He looked back at the scene and stood up.
-These are photos from our last banquet.
-We’d be DELIGHTED to have you at the next one.
The table in the picture was covered with a feast, dishes that looked incredibly appetizing.
-Do you have any favorite meals?
-I… - The boy covered his mouth with his hand, hesitating to speak.
-I’d love to cook them for you. There will be no problem in that, don’t worry.
A faint blush colored his cheeks. He wasn’t stupid, he knew this was all part of the act. They’d start expecting things from him eventually. But… having dinner with a family that was one of his dreams.
-Yo, little bro! - a voice suddenly interrupted, as a taller boy grabbed him by the shirt. - We were supposed to visit grandma after school, remember?
He blinked a few times, confused. Who was this guy? What was he talking about? He’d never seen him before. Maybe he mistaken him for someone else?
-We’re going. - the stranger said, pulling him away.
-You are his brother? Maybe you want-?
-No. - The taller boy cut in sharply.
The purple-haired boy didn’t know how to react. This older guy had just yanked him away from strangers who were inviting him to dinner. No matter how he thought about it, it all seemed… wrong.
Once they were far from the fountain, the boy finally got a surge of courage and started pulling away.
The taller boy obeyed, and the younger immediately covered his mouth, worried he might have accidentally activated his quirk.
-Relax, idiot. - the older boy said flatly. - I just saved your ass from a cult.
- That’s not a cult! And anyway… I wasn’t planning on joining them.
-It’s none of your business. I don’t even know you!
-And you don’t know them, either. - The white-haired boy leaned down closer, making his damaged skin more visible and giving him a menacing look. - Would you have gone to dinner with me if I asked you out?
The younger boy turned his gaze away. They both knew the answer. He didn’t know who this guy was or what he wanted, but he was right. He’d nearly agreed to visit complete strangers who talked to him just because they saw he was alone. His grip tightened around the New Dawn pamphlet in his hand.
-Hey. - The white-haired boy snatched the pamphlet from him, then shoved some money into his pocket. - For dinner. Now go home and read up on what cults do to your brain. If you want to keep your.
The purple-haired boy covered his mouth with both hands, his eyes wide with fear. Does he know? And if he does, how much does he know?
He opened his mouth to ask, but the older boy had already turned and walked away.
And Hitoshi was left alone once again.
Half. That’s how much money he spent in one day. One. He thought about going to those people from New Dawn and robbing them, but he knew it wouldn't be worth it. They probably gave every penny they saved to their 'church.'
If only they knew what was bought with that money.
-Something wrong, Tomura?
Kamino is considered a relatively dangerous city, by Japan’s standards. There’s a pretty big gang and yakuza here, who supposedly like to operate at night. Plus, Trigger is quite popular, so most people lock themselves inside before sunset. He thought their concerns were unwarranted. He’d been living on these streets for weeks, and no one had attacked him yet, but it could also be because he knew how to stay hidden. Who knows?
He wasn’t going to complain about it. A vending machine with hot food, in a place with no cameras and zero witnesses around? Too good to pass up.
Kurogiri opened a small portal and pulled the dish straight from inside. They had it down so well by now that they did it while walking past the vending machine, without even stopping.
-Do you want to go back to New Dawn?
-No. Just find where they meet.
-Spy. Steal... Mainly steal.
-Do you want to see if that guy is with them?
-No. - Kurogiri narrows his eyes. - Why did I even tell you about this?
-Because I asked how much money we have left.
-Yea, I know! It was stupid. I shouldn’t have given him money.
He looked at his meal. He knew what it was like to feel hunger, how unpleasant it could be. Under AFO’s wing, he always had access to food, but he never overindulged. He rarely finished a full portion and often just ignored his hunger. But also... he had never been desperate for any food, at least not that he could remember.
He stopped when he saw two homeless people rummaging through trash cans near the restaurant. They didn’t search for long because the owner started chasing them off with a broom. And what’s his problem? No one was going to pay him for that food, and those guys weren’t making a mess.
He walked on, but after a moment, he stopped again.
-I have another stupid idea.
The homeless people sat on a bench, muttering curses under their breath about the cook. They did it more for entertainment than out of real anger. They had seen both the kindness and the lowest of what humanity has to offer. They had lived on the streets for several years and had gotten used to most things. Today, they just hadn't had any luck, or at least that's what they thought.
A teenager approached them, carrying four ready-made meals. He placed them on the bench next to them and quickly walked away. One of them immediately laughed, amused by the turn of events. Whether he did it for a YouTube video or not, it didn’t matter to him, free food is free food. The other one started laughing as well, but not enough to stop him from shouting, "Thanks!" toward the boy.
Tomura ignored the shout behind him and quickened his pace, glad he managed to leave before anyone could start asking questions. He felt strange, as if he had just done something against the rules he had set for himself. But he didn’t regret it.
-So what now, Young Master? - Kurogiri asked, appearing next to him.
-Nothing. - Tomura shoved his hands into his pockets. - Let's go back.
They didn’t speak again as Kurogiri opened a portal and they transported to a more familiar, dark place. In silence, Tomura tossed his backpack onto the floor and crouched by the wall. Thoughts swirled in his mind, but none would settle into something concrete.
"Why did I even do that?"
He couldn’t answer that question. He shouldn’t have done it; there was no gain in it for him. As usual, Kurogiri didn’t comment on his actions. Tomura appreciated that more than he would admit.
-Don’t tell anyone about this.
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