Looking back on the night with a sober mind, he cringed at begging you to stay with him. What would he even have done with you? He wasn't sure. But he enjoyed replaying the contact he had managed to get. He could finally picture your face, the feel of your skin, the sweet sound of your voice. Chasing after you like a prowling fox would a terrified little bunny. You began showing up in his dreams, sometimes he would be chasing you, growling and pouncing on top of you as you cried out. Sometimes he'd dream of going to school with you and being your classmate. Staring at the back of your head in class, eating lunch across from you, chasing you around at break, walking you home. Maybe he'd lead you into a darker part of town and corner you. Even if he was your age he'd still be bigger than you, capable of overpowering you. But he'd have to stuff those fantasies down and get on with his work.
The city was always bright and loud at night. You hated it. You preferred the calm and the quiet, small breezes and the little birds chirping. Not the stumbling drunks, loud music, and bright piercing lights. You wondered if Shigaraki also hated this. If he ever had a dream of a nice home in the countryside. Probably not- don't be stupid. Villains don't exactly settle down or retire, do they? You shook your head, you knew it was ridiculous to ever dream of domestic life with him.
as you neared the bar, you realised there was something unusual, was it.. fire? As you ran closer things became more clear, a large swarm of police had surrounded it and Endeavours huge figure stood amongst them. The wall to the bar had been completely smashed through.
"What's happening!?" you barged through a couple policemen to try and look at the scene. Endeavour grimaced down at you.
"This isn't safe for you, get out of here!" your eyes stayed glued to the scene of the bar. Had they arrested him? Was he dead? Injured? Your heart sunk. You stepped forwards, but you were yanked back by a huge hand grabbing your arm. How the hell was he even that big?
"Didn't you hear me brat! Stay back!" He chucked you back to the pavement and you clutched your arm as it surged with pain, the skin red hot from his fiery grip. You took one last look at the now abandoned bar and ran back the way you came. You didn't try to rationalise any of it- you couldn't, you were totally overwhelmed and destroyed by it all. The bar was gone. Was he gone? What had happened to him? Your mind raced with the possibilities. He'd be okay, right? He could handle himself? When you finally reached home, you rushed to your room and threw your jacket off. You'd no idea what to do with yourself other than treat your arm and wait like a loyal dog by the radio in hopes of hearing any news. Please be alive. Please don't be arrested. No news regarding him ever came. You spent the next week or so on total autopilot. Just eating, bathing, sleeping, and lying in your bed with the radio on.
Shigaraki held his head down as he walked along the street. They'd finally found your home, after about a week of looking for an incredibly vague description of a young girl. Laying low had been an irritating change. Losing his master was a huge blow to him- but he knew there was no giving up. Right when he was feeling good about everything, too. So close to breaking the trust in hero society after successfully capturing one of their students, so close to catching a sweet little treat of a girl, like a prize for his efforts- just for it all to crumble in front of him. At least he could still go after you easily. You had no defences, no hero to protect you.
The area you lived in was nice enough. Most places were nice during the summer, though. He had contemplated watching you for a little while, like you watched him, but he didn't have the patience. He was desperate for contact with you again. After the suspense of reading your little notes and waiting around to get you, and then the release he had gotten from finally catching you, he had no interest in resetting the game of cat and mouse. He needed to take you now.
It was deep into the night now. He needed to be quiet, the last thing he'd want is to have to murder your parents and have you resent him for it. He took a peek at the photographs on the walls as he slunk through the house. He approached your room, cautiously laying his hand flat upon the door and watching it degrade. The moonlight shone in through the window, lighting up half of your sleeping form. His chest loosened a little.
Around the room there were posters, cute things you would expect a teenage girl to have. Schoolbooks laying around, a radio, lots of stationary. He peered over to your desk, finding many images and drawings of him positioned around the mirror.
fuck fuck fuck.. you're so cute...
he never realised how much he'd enjoy having a little fangirl, someone who thinks about him day and night, writes him notes and puts images of him up on their mantel- Just like they did heroes.
He strode slowly to the bedside. seeing you ever so still, your beautiful face illuminated by blue light, your chest rising ever so slightly. Your sweet innocent face.
I love you. I'm going to get you out of here.
He set his duffel bag on the ground lightly. He had to bring some things with him, right? A couple notebooks, some clothes- that sort of stuff will do. He shuffled around the room in the dark, careful not to destroy anything he might need. He then turned again to the bedside. Gosh. He wished he didn't have to wake you up, he wished he could just sit by your bed and watch you sleep forever. So still and calm and sweet. He reached his hand out and brushed a little hair out of your face, feeling your soft skin on his fingers. Your eyes fluttered open at the touch, and you jolted up upon seeing his face. He quickly raised a finger to his lips, gesturing you to stay quiet. He watched as the tears began to flow and you sat up in bed, facing him. Your hands rose to your face to sweep away the tears.
"I thought you might have been dead o-or hurt," your breath hitched and he brought a hand up to stroke the side of your head. He grimaced as he looked down,
"What happened to you?" you head turned down at your arm, which had been covered in bandages. It hurt still. The skin was red and sore, it had taken effort across the last week to leave it alone.
"When I showed up to the bar, there were police, and heroes there.. Endeavour grabbed me, and my arm was burnt." He felt the anger swell up inside him. Who the hell did they think they were? Burning a young girl like this, for what? He hated them so much. So hypocritical, so disgusting and corrupt, so filthy...
"Shigaraki..." He was snapped out of his thoughts. Fuck, hearing you hear his name was good.
"You're hurting yourself," He took his hand away from his neck. Oh. Right, women probably don't like that. He stood up.
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