shigaraki x reader, part two.
For the month following Tomura Shigaraki's capture I was told absolutely nothing about the progress or decisions that the police and heroes were making. I really tried to stick my nose into their business, but they mistook my curiosity and care for kindness. They thought I was only offering a hand because it was my job, so they brushed me off with smiles and told me I didn't need to worry about it anymore.
"You've done a great job. Just rest," they would say. Something like that.
You'd be surprised at how much fucking money was unloaded into my bank account after I turned him in. It was life changing money. I went from being flat broke to a millionaire in such a short amount of time. Being a hero is a commission job; generally speaking I don't make too much for what I do, but turns out capturing the most dangerous villain in Japan gets you the big bucks. And the fame, too. I'd never had more people down my throat before which at the time was a blessing. Finally, after a year in Japan I was really making it big like I knew I was meant to be.
Still, I had university classes to attend and a part time waitressing job to work alongside my newfound celebrity life. I sort of felt like Hannah Montana.
Even though I tried to distract myself with new furniture for my house and nice things, I couldn't stop worrying about Tomura. He had himself wedged in my brain. More than anything, I was afraid he would tell them everything about us if prompted or angered. If he found out he wasn't going to be as safe in jail as I made it out to be, would he betray me like that? I betrayed him without a second thought.
But he went willingly. It did take a gun, but if Tomura wanted to fight he could have dusted me. Nobody understands how I successfully held him down until the police got there and I've refrained from trying to make up a story. The truth was that he slid further down onto the pavement and gestured for me to grab his wrists while I called the police, so it looked like he had been KO'd.
It was three months after his entrance that I received an email in my inbox from Tartarus, the prison that held him.
we are reaching out to anyone we see fit to attend a very important meeting regarding a plan we have in mind for Tomura Shigaraki. We have been working alongside the retired hero All Might. It will be held inside our building on June 17 at 4 PM.
Please, if you are available and interested, come see us. The pl-
I was so taken off guard by the short notice of the email that I didn't even bother to finish reading what they said, though I should have. I probably, really, should have. I had 3 days to prepare my mind and body for the meeting. On day 2, I grabbed coffee with Eraserhead. We knew each other from a mutual friend, but didn't talk much at all. He wanted to talk to me about Tomura, too. It ended up being a big "thank you" but it wasn't as sappy as people usually make it. He seemed genuinely relieved. Probably because his students were always a target.
"Are you gonna go to the meeting?" I asked. "Did you get that email?"
"God, no. Not my thing. You're actually interested?" It was kind of surprising how final his decision sounded. I couldn't understand how someone would really be that sure about not wanting to know. He's not curious at all?
"Uh, yeah." I took an awkward finishing sip of my coffee and was quickly on my way.
Being social makes me feel uneasy and I forget how to be myself. Luckily, Eraserhead of all people would understand that being that he's an underground hero. If I hadn't blown up out of nowhere I probably would have taken the same route since if you know what my quirk is, it's more difficult for me to use it strategically. Though it doesn't matter either way. It's not a combat-ready quirk, so I've had to make my physical body strong enough to beat a grown man up anyway.
The fated day came quicker than I wanted it to. Suddenly I was straightening my hair and fishing formal clothes from the deepest pits of my forsaken closet.
When I arrived at Tartarus, the moment I stepped foot inside the building I felt completely uncomfortable and sick to my stomach. Japan's worst went to bed there, walked the halls, brushed their teeth. Every surrounding surface was either a headache inducing white or a grey or brown. I searched for Tomura's face in every white jumpsuit that passed me, but of course he wouldn't be roaming the lobby and halls. He'd be excessively strapped to a chair with guns pointed to his head, which is exactly how I found him.
"Well, here he is. He can hear you through the glass," my escort told me. "I'll leave you to talk with him a bit then I'll come back and we can head to the office."
It was hard to face the blank stare he bore that which ripped into my skin and squeezed my heart. He obviously knew I was the every reason he was in this predicament instead of at home, in bed. I wondered if he felt less lonely knowing Kurogiri and All for One were held in that facility, or if he had any clue at all. His eyes were completely devoid of hope and feeling. The weight of his eyebags made him almost unrecognizable.
I couldn't find it in myself to speak to him and he didn't seem all too interested in speaking to me either, so we stared at each other through the glass wall until the time wasted itself away. A few times I opened my mouth to speak, to apologize, anything that could possibly make it feel less awkward, but I couldn't even gather the words. They just didn't feel right like they did when I rehearsed in my mirror. When I came up with what I'd say if I was to talk to him like that, I didn't exactly have the right picture of him in my mind. I completely underestimated how sad Tomura could look.
It was a blessing when my escort returned to bring me upstairs into the office. I was just beginning to wonder where everybody else was when my escort broke some depressing news.
"You are the only one who came," he mumbled with a hopeless look on his face as he knocked on the wooden door. "It's rare nowadays for a hero to care."
The words felt like ice on my warm skin. Once I'd absorbed what he meant by that, I began to wonder if I could argue that I was any different. Did I really go to advocate for Tomura, or was it to satisfy my own curiosity? I was sure of the real answer, even then in my selfish newborn hero mindset.
Inside the office was a long table of no one but me and a few people I didn't recognize as heroes, but police and detectives based on their outfits. They explained to me a plan that I hadn't exactly read far enough into the email to know about.
Unbeknownst to me, the rest of the letter read as follows:
the plan is to set in to place a rehabilitation system for Tomura Shigaraki that hopes to reintroduce Shigaraki to civilized society within the span of a few years, ideally. This would include anyone who is interested in attending this meeting. Your attendance means you agree to potentially taking in Tomura Shigaraki as your patient and roommate during this monitored progress. Rest assured, if this is something you're interested in, you will be 100% safe throughout this process.
Thank you. We hope to see you soon.
None of that was at all anything I was prepared for and suddenly I understood why nobody else was here. The rest of the people at the table looked at me expectantly once they finished describing the conditions. I believed I would be safe. I never really felt unsafe with Tomura regardless of whether he has his quirk or not (apparently, they took it from him?) but I was 19 years old and lived alone, attending University day to day. I had room but no time to take care of a human being, especially one that needed extensive mental attention and care.
But when I asked them what would happen to him if I said no, they told me they would probably have to put him to sleep. I couldn't let them kill Tomura, so I agreed. I returned to Tartarus to pick him up the very next day. I barely slept a wink. What if this isn't what he'd want?
