That text, that text -- That picture -- He didn’t like this, he didn’t like this at all. Shinsou’s texts came in cryptic, frantic, scared and pleading for help when he was captured. Someone had nabbed him, someone who knew he could be leverage Tomura assumed, whether they knew the truth about his position or not was yet to be known.
Those photos were blurry, but it was enough of a snap for him to feel his guts turning in anguish and despair. They had something that was his, they had something they had no right to take, they had Shinsou.
He moved quicker than Kurogiri has seen in months, hopping off of the stool he had been perched on, grabbing his jacket which he donned with a flourish. There was no time to waste, and with Father in proper place, he set out the door to find where Shinsou had been taken.
It would be another story if they had a proper idea, then Kurogiri could have just portaled him, but that wasn’t an option here, not when he couldn’t be certain based upon the texts he had received, but there was one thing he knew, they were close enough for it to be in this general area and he had to move fast.
Tomura’s stamina was a relative thing, only truly working in his favor when adrenaline was a primary rush he felt, and in this moment he was nothing but adrenaline -- Anger and resentment for a man or woman he had yet to see, to even know the face of -- His veins pumped with life, a fire to his agitation as he slipped though streets and alleyways.
The lighting was the first thing he recognized, it was from the closest ward, most likely in the shopping district due to the sight of neon lights through slatted windows. Probably obscured from the world in a haphazard fashion, one of these rundown buildings he was passing by.
He watched for things, signs, sounds -- And then he saw it. Something small but simple, Shinsou always had those stupid cat charms on various items he owned. Something he was certain the boy tried to keep hidden and yet... That wallet sat in the alleyway, and Tomura’s eyes saw red. Sweeping it up into his grasp, he tucked it carefully within the confines of his pocket before glancing around.
Where oh where -- There, behind him was a building with slatted windows, dark save for a few flickers of light here and there. For now he approached it in silence, settling beneath a window to listen for voices inside. Let this be the right place -- He wanted what was his to be returned swiftly, and he would crumble any force that laid in his wake.
