Tomura Shigaraki(Your Sensei Is A Bastard, Please Find A New Psuedo Father Figure)
#conspiracytheories
Is All Might slowing down? pt.5
This is just a short summary of my 'rambling' from the other parts, since you dumb fucks can't be bothered to read more than a paragraph before getting triggered and commenting:))
TL/DR: Based on which is CONFIRMED BY THE HPSC's official website as reliable source of information, All Might sightings have dropped drastically in the past year, and even more drastically in the past couple of months.
"—PROTECTING HIM?! ALL FOR ONE FUCKING MURDERED YOU GUYS AND YOU'RE JUST—" Sixth screams, about midway through their nightly rant.
Nine lounges on Eighth's throne, the shadowy silhouette of Eight in question permanently banished to the corner of the void. His eyes are closed as he lets Sixth's screams wash over him. At this point, he's used to the way their voice gets progressively higher the more they scream, and how they only stop when First deigns to step in. After all, the moment he goes to sleep, he's dragged to the void, and is immediately greeted by Sixth's dulcet tones.
Every.
Single.
Night.
He's tempted to completely stop sleeping at this point.
"—SHOULD BE FUCKING ASHAMED OF YOURSELF! YOU—"
There it is.
He'd become the target of Sixth's wrathful screaming for the millionth time. To be fair, his decisions(rather, his lack of decision when it came to a certain supervillain) are the entire reason the Holders have been arguing.
If you can even call Sixth screaming at the others arguing.
Apparently, Sixth thought that causing everyone a headache and making the Holders collectively wish for their loss of hearing would magically make them 'see reason'. Even when First did bother trying to speak with Sixth, he was basically shouted over until he just gave up and retreated to his throne, a pensive expression on his face.
The white haired boy cracks open an eye.
As usual, First was sitting on his throne, a thoughtful look in his eyes as Second and Third shield him with their bodies, effectively creating their own little bubble from the rest of the Holders. The other Holders were also trying to ignore Sixth, with varying degrees of success. Fourth has some sort of headphones in, but is eyeing the edge of the void with obvious longing. Beside him, Fifth is wearing a regretful grimace and his own set of headphones, his hand firmly gripping Fourth's arm and keeping him in place.
He's definitely regretting his choice of successor.
Nine purses his lips, glancing over at Nana. She's right beside him, having positioned her throne so she could intercept any physical attacks(if you can count them as that, since they're all ghosts with no physical bodies any more) with her own set headphones. He'd briefly wondered where they came from, but decided that some things were best left mysteries when he saw the manic gleam in Second's eye.
Unfortunately, he hadn't been offered said headphones tonight due to whatever conversation First, Second, and Third are having. And even if he did, it doesn't fully block out the sound of Sixth's voice, or their increasing self-hatred and despair that hits him like a brick wall every time he enters the void.
Nana had stopped trying to shout over Sixth a while ago, settling for a cool glare and the occasional reassuring hand pat when Sixth said something particularly insulting. Honestly, if he hadn't grown up around Bakugou, he'd be a lot more offended.
The one thing that all of the Holders shared was an air of exhaustion. It seeps through the cracks of the throne room, swirling through the air like invisible smoke. It even makes the stars dimmer, and only serves to worsen his sleep deprived state, despite him being asleep.
As if to prove his point, a yawn rises up in his chest. He stifles it. Yawning only makes Sixth angrier, and he doesn't want to avoid them lunging at him right now. His drooping gaze slides to the shadowy figure perched at the edge of the void, their fingers stirring the inky nothingness more agitatedly than usual.
The shouting must be getting to him too.
A wry smile spreads across his face.
"—DARE YOU? YOU'RE NOTHING BUT A FILTHY TRAITOR—"
It disappears as quickly as it came, and Nine sighs, the limit of his patience reached for the night.
I guess I won't be getting any more sleep tonight.
He slides off of the throne, dodging Sixth's attempts to corner him. They follow him as he walks out of the rearranged circle of thrones, ignoring their intense emotions and First's gaze as he walks right past the shadowy figure and steps into inky nothingness. The sky bends around him, the stars glowing brighter and brighter until there's nothing but pure white light and blissful silence—
Izuku's eyes snap open, glowing green in the darkness of his empty bedroom. His covers are at the edge of the bed, and colors flicker around him, One For All humming faintly in his veins before he completely shuts it down.
His bedroom is completely dark now, the usually bright yellow tones of the room washed out by the white moonlight that filters through the curtains, making lacy patterns on the carpet.
Dry eyes drift to the space where Eri usually sleeps. It's empty tonight, since Himiko had heard that Eri didn't know what a sleepover was and immediately took it upon herself to invite Eri to a sleepover with her, Twice, and Magne(both adults had been dragged into it against their will, but seemed fine with their impromptu inclusions when Eri smiled at them).
I'm sure Eri will tell me all about it tomorrow.
Izuku's fond smile is interrupted by a huge yawn.
I hope Kurogiri is still up.
He reaches over for his phone and checks the time.
Probably not.
Idly, he scrolls through his messages, checking for anything new. There's a short 'goodnight' text from Shouto that he'd responded to before he went to sleep, a slew of cat memes Hitoshi had spammed him with an hour ago, and three massive blocks of text from the group chat Hatsume had included him in for some godforsaken reason. He doesn't know why he was included, or who else was in there(all of the numbers had area codes from various parts of Asia, and they very rarely responded in Japanese), and he doesn't bother asking.
It's something about one of her babies again.
Usually he'd at least skim through her typo-ridden rant, but his eyes are heavier than usual, and he knows he needs to get some caffeine or sugar into his system before he ends up in the void for the second time tonight.
Guess I'll go down to the kitchen and make myself something.
If he remembers correctly, there's still some powdered hot chocolate somewhere in the pantry. Though it might be gone, since Twice has a habit of sneaking into the kitchen to steal sweets when he thinks Kurogiri isn't paying attention.
Beep!
Izuku pops the last piece of his mochi into his mouth(found after a long, hazardous search through the well-stocked freezer), then opens the microwave. The sugar is finally setting in, making him feel a little less brain-dead than before and keeping his exhaustion at bay.
At least it's not as bad as when I was at UA.
He sighs, stirring a bit of honey into the mug before setting the spoon in the sink and quietly cleaning up after himself. The doors to the common area are closed, but he can hear the faint crackling of the fire that Twice had lit earlier(it had taken a while, but watching the fire seemed to keep both sides from arguing too much). They barely argue at all nowadays, actually. They bicker, sure, but not the full blown arguments that used to happen weekly.
Of course, the unity came at the expense of his very traumatic kidnapping and subsequent rescue attempt that led to Izuku and Tomura in critical states and a large part of Deika completely flattened in what the government deemed a terrorist attack, but at least Twice was okay.
Focus on the positives.
Izuku ignores the flickering lights around him and the faint threads of amusement tugging at him in favor of grabbing his mug and heading for the double doors. He'll just relax on one of the couches and scroll through hero analysis forums until Kurogiri asks him to help start breakfast. That should help pass the time.
Yawning, he pushes one of the doors open with his shoulder, careful not to spill hot tea all over himself. The fire flickers in the fireplace on the far wall, the assorted couches and loveseats casting dramatic shadows across the dark carpet. He notes the limp form of Tomura stretched out on the couch closest to the said fire, along with Jiji curled up in the armchair nearby.
Izuku raises an eyebrow. It's not uncommon to find one or two of the League members passed out on a couch or armchair in here due to its proximity to the kitchen and fairly central place within the mansion, but Tomura usually keeps to his own room outside of meals. He comes down with a glazed look in his eyes, eats quickly, and slinks off to his room until next time.
The white haired boy had noted Tomura's silence, but chalked it up to the fact that Kurogiri warped some of his gaming set-up here. He's probably just catching up on stuff he missed, and/or processing the Deika incident.
Probably both, knowing the man and his love of video game terms.
He quietly closes the door behind himself, the faint smell of smoke tickling his nostrils as he pads towards one of the couches in the corner. Tomura is a fairly light sleeper, and Izuku doesn't want to disturb the man's sleep just because he got agitated by certain users' wildly incorrect theories about how a hero's Quirk functions.
No, westanendeavorsmassivehonkers69, Endeavor's fiery beard is not maintained by his righteous anger towards villains.
"Izuku?"
Izuku looks over to meet the red eyes of someone that's definitely not asleep anymore.
"Hi." He replies, somewhat embarrassed.
Tomura stares at him for a long moment, blinking a couple of times before patting the couch he's laying on, wordlessly inviting Izuku. The white haired boy pads forwards, carefully setting his mug on the coffee table.
He's already sitting up, and Izuku takes it as an invitation to wedge himself between the man and the arm of the couch. He dangles one leg off the couch and neatly folds up the other, catching the pillow Tomura tosses at his stomach. The man takes that as an invitation to lay back down, yanking up the blanket at the end of the couch over their legs and settling in with a loud huff.
Izuku smiles, noting the man's relaxed body language as he reaches over and grabs his mug. The hot tea warms his throat and stomach, the warmth and the honey helping ease the urge to go back to sleep.
After a moment, he sets the mug aside and pulls out his phone to scroll through forums he hasn't visited in a while, reading posts from people he's been following since middle school with mild interest.
Most of the content is about a recently graduated Shiketsu hero team that had various Quirks related to water. They debuted about three weeks ago, fighting a fisherman using their Quirk to harass other fishermen in Chiba Prefecture. It had all been caught on video, and even with the sound muted, it was clear that the team had some seriously good communication skills.
There was some discourse over whether or not someone had some sort of telepathy Quirk, but it was quickly disproved by a well-written post pointing out that the only member of the team with a mutant Quirk was a dolphin, and that they probably used some form of echolocation to warn their team members of the villain's attacks. They were already being compared to the Oki Mariner Crew, though it would be a while before they reached the level of teamwork exhibited by that particular hero team.
At some point, his hand finds its way into Tomura's hair, his blunt nails gently scratching at the man's scalp as he scrolls. The rest of the content is dedicated to analysis of fairly recently debuted heroes, Japan's top ten appreciation posts, and a couple of analyses of foregin heroes well-known enough to make their way onto the majority Japanese forums—such as the American hero, Star And Stripe.
Her Quirk is definitely interesting, but none of the posts have any information he hasn't seen before, so he skims through them quickly. There's a couple of accounts that have messaged him about one thing or the other, but he doesn't bother responding to any of them. He hasn't been active on most of his accounts for over a year due to One For All and UA, and he doesn't have the energy to do anything but absorb content right now.
"Do you hate Sensei?"
Izuku twitches involuntarily at the sound of Tomura's voice, not expecting the man to still be awake. His eyes flick from his phone to the man on his lap, noting the quiet intensity in Tomura's red eyes as they make eye contact. He breaks it first, turning off his phone and setting it aside.
"I don't." He replies simply.
And he doesn't. He knows what his own hatred feels like, knows who it's directed towards no matter how hard he tries to push it down and ignore it. What he feels towards All For One can barely qualify as wariness, despite the Holder's memories and warnings. He just...doesn't have the energy to hate All For One, much less fear him. Those are emotions reserved for those who give a damn about their lives, and he'd had that beaten out of him a long time ago.
"The Holders do, though." He finishes, avoiding Tomura's red gaze.
There's a long pause, filled with the crackling of the fire behind them.
"Even his brother?"
Izuku pauses, fingers twitching as colors flicker around him, the Holder's emotions rising as they sense the topic of the conversation. The honest answer to Tomura's question is both yes and no. Izuku knows, has known, how First feels towards his brother and how that shaped his decision to give One For All to Ko. It's a mess of complicated feelings, and though resentment and fear are prominent emotions, he can't say that First really, truly hates All For One like some of the other Holders(namely Sixth) do.
"...One time, I asked why Sensei took me in." Tomura starts, a far away look in his eyes. "After all, dozens of people walked past me, day after day, and completely ignored me, telling me that the heroes would come get me. But he stopped, and offered to take me in. Why?"
Izuku frowns, eyes focused on the man's face, wondering where this conversation was going.
"It was right after he brought me what was left of my family."
The image of the severed hands Tomura used to wear regularly flashes through his mind, along with a memory that Izuku Izuku purposefully shoves down, grounding himself by starting to play with the lanky man's hair again. He wants to hear this from Tomura, not relive someone else's memories.
"I didn't understand him, didn't understand why he thought something so scary was a gift. I don't think I'll ever understand him..." Tomura trails off, eyebrows furrowed as the fire crackles in the background, filling the silence.
The firelight makes his features harsher, more serious. He doesn't look at Izuku, just stares somewhere into the distance, like he's trying to find the end of his sentence. Silence settles over the pair, alone in the large common room of an even larger house that had fallen silent hours ago.
"Sensei told me that he wanted a second chance. His younger brother died from a chronic illness, and he felt that he hadn't treated him properly. And apparently, I looked a lot like him."
Izuku's stomach twists violently, his and several other people's discomfort and nausea combining.
"Of course, I asked more questions. I was afraid. I thought that I was a replacement for that brother, and that if I didn't act exactly like him, Sensei would abandon me." Tomura continues. "But one day, he called me to his office. I was terrified, absolutely convinced that I'd done something wrong and that he was finally going to throw me away."
The white haired boy silently begins playing with Tomura's hair again, a silent attempt at grounding himself in reality and not letting the emotions overwhelm him.
"Instead of abandoning me, he told me: 'You aren't Yoichi, and I don't expect you to be. You are my ward, my second chance, and most importantly, yourself.'" Tomura smiles at the memory, red eyes flicking up to meet Izuku's. "I'll always remember those words. Because even if I'll never really understand him, I understand that he cares about people in his own way."
Izuku stares down at the man wordlessly.
"I've known for a long time that Sensei really loved his younger brother. But I also know that Sensei cares about me, no matter how much he tries to distance himself from me as I get older. It's his way of preparing me for the final boss."
He listens, carefully compressing the emotions rising in his chest. They're not his emotions to feel or regulate, and he has no intention of dealing with them just because of his connection with the Holders.
"Still, I was...frustrated, for a while. After you told everything about One For All and All Might, I realized just how little of a shit people gave about you, despite you being one of society's best and brightest." Tomura snorts, bitterness clear in his words. "You crumbled in front of their eyes, and the 'heroes' did absolutely nothing to help you."
There's a pause, and Tomura's fists clench around the blanket, one pinkie raised out of what Izuku suspects is a learned habit.
"Even Sensei—" He cuts himself off with a frown, carefully releasing the blanket.
Izuku doesn't say anything, watching the man's anger smooth into something calmer, less destructive.
"I guess what I'm trying to say is that I don't get why he wouldn't help you. If he loved his brother so much, then why wouldn't he want to preserve what was left of him?"
Silence settles over them again, heavier than before.
Izuku knows he could answer Tomura's question. Knows that he could dig into One For All and into the Holder's memories, knows that he could access All For One's memories and figure out just what was going through his head when he decided to brutally murder the early Holders, and how his feelings towards the Holders changed over the years.
But he doesn't want to. He doesn't want to use One For All, he doesn't want to feel the Holder's raging emotions as he relives someone else's traumatic memories, doesn't want to wake up to lightning crackling around him and confusion and pain and panic. He's just so fucking tired, and sorting through All For One's memories sounds absolutely exhausting.
So he sighs, sinking a little further into the couch and gently starting to play with Tomura's hair again.
"I don't know, and I don't care. I saved myself, and that's enough for me."