Desolation: A Tomura Shigaraki SI-OC

Chapter Five: Internet Friends


Time passed. I trained more with Teach, learned more about the underworld from Sense—All For One and Kurogiri, and continued wandering the streets, both during the day and at night. Whenever I wasn't doing these things, I was reading the chat boards, mostly conversing with Poormansmidnight—who was indeed Mustard—Acido, and the King of Pen Goddamn Island. Most of our time there was spent trolling Explosion Murder—who was most certainly Bakugou—or just gossiping about the latest news.

Midoriya had long since stopped attending the chatroom—whether it was due to my hinting at my knowledge of his online identity or his training with All Might, I could not tell—and Crispy hadn't come back either.

Whenever I wasn't doing one of these things, I would meet up with Mustard in person. We would often bitch about the current conditions of our society or play games on our phones. Sometimes we'd find ourselves singing sea shanties, or other songs.

In fact, I was headed to one of our meeting points now. A rather dingy looking coffee shop we had both found during our wanderings. A few…interesting—

(Illegal)

—things happened. Back alleyway trigger deals. Gang negotiations. Heist planning. Tons of stuff. Perfect place for a terrorist/vigilante and a potential school shooter/suicide victim to meet up.

I walked in. The shop was barely populated, maybe two or three other people—discounting staff members, of which there were five members present—aside from myself and Mustard. The gas-user himself was leaning back in his chair, resting his elbows on the table as he stared intently at his phone, tapping it furiously.

"Damn!" He whispered as he turned off his phone and looked towards me. "You're a bit late today, Shimura."

"Or maybe you're just early, Mustard."

Conversation went on as normal. Both of us bitched about society and talked about what we thought should be changed. Who were good heroes—

(Not talking about those corporate dogs or those commission pawns.)

—and who weren't. Endeavor was high up on the unfavorite list, while All Might seemed to always be at the top.

(Like he always is. Even after Sensei injured him. Damn hacker.)

Eventually, it came time for Mustard to leave. "Well, guess I'll see you whenever." The student said. I nodded, taking a sip out of a latte I had ordered during our talk. "Don't be a stranger." I replied as he left the store.

I sat there a while longer, drinking the rest of my latte and generally thinking of nothing. Up until someone moved a chair by the table I was sitting at.

"Can I sit here?" A somewhat scratchy voice spoke up.

I lifted my eyes up towards the stranger's face. The man was dressed in ragged black clothes—save for a white low-cut tee shirt—and had several bruise colored patches of skin stapled on him and had hair that was as white as snow, along with cold, dead eyes that were a light turquoise color. Dabi, if I had to guess.

I stiffened and looked back at my latte. "Go right ahead."

Dabi smiled, but his eyes remained…there wasn't a word that could describe what those eyes held.

(Prick.)

"Hey." He spoke again, leaning back in his chair. "Aren't you that vigilante guy that's been going around preaching about how he's gonna change the world or something. What are you calling yourself again? Death Hand?"

I swallowed down some spit. "So what if I am?"

Bad answer.

His smirk widened. "Ah, I thought it was you. Heard about your crusty ass from a lizard I know. You might also know about him, given that you saved his life."

Spinner.

I looked into Dabi's eyes. Those cold, dead eyes…

"Is he…"

"Don't worry." The pyromancer scoffed. "The lizard lives. Heals quick too. Lucky lizard."

Dick!

I grit my teeth. "Alright, I think I've indulged you enough. What do you want?"

He laughed and held his hands in a placating manner. It did nothing to calm me, since most of his attacks came from his damn hands. "Woah, pal! No need to get worked up! Just heard you were putting together some kind of group and wanted to meet you. I even let your boyfriend—!"

"Not my boyfriend." I interrupted.

He held up a finger. "Not the point. I even let your friend leave before coming in to meet you."

"And why did you want to meet me, mister…"

"I go by Dabi." His grin turned malignant.

I shuddered. "Right. Why did you want to meet me, Dabi?"

The malignance dropped from his smile a little. "Wanted to see if you had any opening for your…League."

"Then go talk to Giran."

"But he's not the boss." He waved his right hand in a dismissive manner. "Oh sure, he's doing most of the recruiting, but he's not in charge like you are."

I let out a breath. "Okay. So let's say I have a spot open. What exactly can you offer us?"

"Lots of things!" He said. "Including information on one of the recommended students."

I feigned interest, even though I knew who he was talking about. "And what student would that be."

Dabi smirked, and his staples strained against his face. "Let me join, and I'll tell you."

My jaw set in my mouth. On one hand, Dabi was unstable and consumed entirely by his lust for revenge. On the other, he was also incredibly powerful, in spite of his lack of immunity to his own flames. Out of all of the members of the League from canon, I saw Dabi as the most dangerous. Not because of his combat skills or his quirk—both of those spots belonged to Mister Compress, due to the man's showmanship and unpredictability—but because of his mind, and a plan that broke Endeavor in both body and spirit.

I let out a sigh but made sure my eyes never left his own. "Okay, I'll…consider it." I stood up from my chair and walked towards the door.

"By the way…" Dabi spoke again.

I turned back towards him and saw that his disturbing grin was back on his face.

"I believe your friend was wandering in the direction of a serial killer who's been on the news recently. A Himiko…Toga, I believe?"

I froze.

(Well…)

Shit!

I had completely forgotten about her!

(Idiot.)

If she ran into Mustard—!

(Yeah, it'd be pretty unfortunate if he got mistaken for poor Saito…)

I made my way to the door, not breaking out to a run until I had exited the store.

Gotta find Mustard gotta find Mustard gotta find—!

A teenager with light brown hair stepped out of an alleyway. Oh thank god.

"Mustard!" I shouted.

He turned towards me with a smile that felt wrong. "Hey! Shimura! Found something cool in this alleyway! Wanna come and see!"

"…Sure, Mustard." I said. Mustard led me into the alleyway. For a while there was silence as we walked further and further away from any crowds or pedestrians…and officers of the law.

I kept my eyes on the shorter teen, ensuring that he didn't turn his head and wide, Cheshire grin towards me as I slowly began removing one of my gloves. "By the way…" I began. "I did tell you that you are allowed to call me by my first name, Tenko."

His head wheeled towards me. "Oh really! Thanks Te—!"

I slammed my palm against Toga's face, making sure to keep my index finger from making contact with her skin. "Where's Mustard." I demanded.

Toga's disguise melted off instantly, revealing her crazed cat-like eyes and her wide vampiric grin, along with everything else. It took considerable willpower to not look down.

"Aw!" She groaned. "How did you find out it was me?!"

I narrowed my eyes. "I lied."

She gasped in what I think was mock horror. "You would lie to your frie—!"

"We're not friends, blondie." I interrupted. "Now where's Mustard."

"Oh, ya know…" She spoke, her voice a bit too cheery for my liking. "In one of these alleys with a hole in him…" Her grin turned predatory. "Just like—!"

There was the deafening crack of a gunshot, and then screaming.

Not mine. Her's.

"Ya shot me!" Toga cried, clutching her right arm as she stumbled back. I had let her go after the gunshot, covering my now-ringing ears. "Ya shot me!" She screamed again, stumbling out of the alleyway with what I think were tears streaming down her face.

"Ya a bastard! I'll cut ya both!"

The serial killer left the alley, and I looked towards where the gunshot had come from.

Mustard was slumped against a wall in the alleyway. Battered and bleeding from several places, but alive.

He collapsed on the floor, and I ran over to him. I had no medical supplies, and it was likely he would die, or his wounds would become infected—!

(If they weren't already, which would make his Health Bar drop faster—!)

I took out my phone. "Kurogiri! I need help!"

There was darkness. And the smell of sulfur.


Hours passed as I stood on the rooftop of the building Kurogiri's bar was based out of. I did nothing but pace as the time passed, trying to convince myself that Mustard would be fine, and playing loud music in my ears to distract myself from whatever was happening downstairs.

I would have spent the time preparing to hunt down Toga…but that may have been a fool's errand, given that this was a shapeshifter I was hunting.

The door opened. Kurogiri stood there. "Young Mustard is in good condition. He will recover by tomorrow."

I let out a sigh. "Thank you Kurogiri." Then I turned back to Kamino, its buildings bathed by the glow of sunset.

"Master Tomura…about the boy…"

"What about him?"

"…What are you planning to do with him?"

I turned back towards the misty man. "I was thinking of bringing him into the fold, so to speak."

"Oh?" One of Kurogiri's 'eyebrows' raised.

I made a face similar to a pout. "What? He's got a good quirk! Could be a great asset to our cause!"

Kurogiri chuckled, and I glared at him. "Are you doubting me!?"

"No, sir. It's just good to see that you've made a friend."

Kurogiri entered the building, and I was left alone on the rooftop again.

"…A friend, huh?"


All For One sat in his mighty throne, watching the Bar through many cameras, but only truly focused on one subject.

Tomura Shigaraki.

The boy had changed in the past couple of months, acting with an efficacy that the Tomura of the past seemed to lack due to his nature as a man-child. And yet now…the boy had become a man, with goals beyond the destruction of anything he didn't like. Now he wanted to change the world, even if it meant tearing down the old order.

His goals in and of themselves were not a concern to him—him, who had just started out like Tomura, what with the vigilantism and grandiose speeches—it was his new moral code.

The old Tomura had never shied away from killing anyone, and he had never objected to the recruitment of mass murderers like he did now. No, now the boy favored idealists and soft-hearted, hypocritical fools such as this 'Stain' that the new breed of villains—and some vigilantes—were flocking too.

At this rate, Tomura would no longer be the successor he wanted. This is what angered him. But there was no use in getting angry over spilled milk, after all.

If Tenko Shimura no longer suited his needs…he would just find another who was just as consumed by hate as the old Tomura was.


AN: And there we have it. Chapter five is complete, and with it, the prologue arc. Next chapter will be an interlude from the points of view of both Izuku and Bakugou as we enter UA!