Chapter Text
Prison wasn’t fun.
But it gave Shigaraki Tomura time.
Time for…
Something. To think, maybe. To exist. To breathe.
To self-reflect. Though, at a certain point, it had to be admitted that what he’d called self-reflection, was slowly turning into clingwrap memories. Hanging onto every venom word of his past.
It was quiet in the cell - alone, under the highest security. The worst part was the handcuffs over his hands. His neck itched , and he couldn’t do anything about it. He couldn’t move. Only sit, feeling phantom bugs crawling over his throat, seeing dark figures moving in the corner of his vision, hearing voices laughing and taunting.
They came in cycles through his life, starting with the sleepless nights of his teens, and ending in cold water when he’d die, one day.
He didn’t know how much time passed now - it happened in fractions, gapping at the seams and splitting open. Time was a frigid sea against his neck, nowadays, coming in waves. He was sure it passed when he wasn’t there for it, but who could know?
Otherwise, his thoughts were just choppy waters - blood and screams mixing in salty air, oxygen sucked from his lungs until he was lightheaded - or was that from his stomach? When had he last eaten?
I’m dead.
The phrase running on and along.
I’m dead I’m dead I’m dead I’m dead I’m dead I’m dead.
Deeper waters-
Keep them away keep their hands off me don’t touch me I’ll hurt you I’ll kill you I swear to god I can’t breathe I can’t breathe I’m going to die it itches it itches I need to claw it out I need to get it out I need to make it go away I need to bleed I need to see I’m alive I need to die I want to die I want to die I want to die I want to die I want to die.
Rock bottom of the ocean and-
I’m dead I’m dead I’m dead I’m dead I’m dead I’m dead.
Now treading water again, gasping for air.
And now the guard was informing him, that Shigaraki Tomura (is that me?) was being called to testify at the hearing of Chisaki Kai as a witness in exchange for a sentence reduction.
All right.
—---
It said “Witness Room”, and they were waiting there.
(Them:
Shigaraki Tomura.
Girl.)
( Is ‘girl’ both of us?)
(Blue hair and horn)
(Her name is ErI)
(She’s telling me that)
(...)
( Respond you useless piece of shit respond respond respond RESPOND)
“What?” Tomura’s eyes flicked up, focusing hazily on the girl. She grinned, tilting her head. “I’m Eri! What’s your name?”
“... Tomura,” Tomura replied dully.
“That’s a pretty name.” Eri replied.
(No one had ever called Tomura pretty)
Eri then nodded, before reaching out for Tomura’s arm, fingers stopping before they could touch. “Are you like me?”
“What?”
“Did a bad man take you away from your parents so he could have your power?” she blinked up, and Shigaraki’s mouth dropped open. “Before the heroes saved you?”
(How did she know?)
(Heroes had never saved him)
“... yeah.”
He hadn’t known if All For One was bad until that moment when they’d been forced to share a body.
Then he’d known-
He’d known that this man was the worst.
It itches it itches it itches it itches get it out get it out get it out.
He scratched his neck.
“I’m sorry,” she said sympathetically, scooting over. “It’s okay, now! Because we’re free.”
Tomura wondered what freedom tasted like.
“You’re skinny,” Eri said. She was frowning. Tomura blinked. “I am?”
Eri nodded, and Tomura looked down at his body hesitantly.
She was right. His clothing was baggier than before, loose. Touching a hand to his ribs- he could feel the outline of each sharp bone, running up to his chest.
It reminded him of one of the things he’d been thinking about, in that prison he had spun around in for the past weeks- a fragile portrait titled ‘self reflection in murky waters’.
The whole ‘girl’ thing.
Because Tomura might be a girl, actually, and it wasn’t something that he was ready to admit to himself, much less say out loud, but every single day it floated in the back of his head was another day it got harder to avoid.
Fuck, he knew about trans people, like Magne. He knew about pronouns, and there was something called dysphoria, he thought, but other than that, how did you even confirm something like that? Did he take an online quiz? Flip a coin? Post on Reddit and let strangers answer for him?
(It wasn’t either. It was just knowing that if he’d been born female, and nothing had changed, he’d still be happier, and that was terrifying in all it’s implications to the point he didn’t acknowledge it as true)
“You want some sunflower seeds?” Eri fished around in her pocket, before pulling out a ziplock baggie and dumping the contents into her small palm. She held them out in an evocatory manner, head tilting sweetly.
Tomura flushed.
“Yeah.”
Eri grinned estatically, letting Tomura take some. They were chewy, and hard, and a bit oversalted.
“... thanks,” he said.
“Yeah!”
A pause.
“Will you fix my braid for me?”
Tomura blinked. “What?”
Eri frowned, gesturing to her hair, which was in a braid down her back - or, had been, as it now seemed to be falling apart. “Please?”
“I… okay,” Tomura had no idea what he was doing. “How… how do you braid hair?”
“Like this!” she reached out and took a few strands of Tomura’s hair, splitting it into three sections and clumsily crossing them together. “And you keep going.”
Tomura swallowed hard, and shakily nodded, letting Eri position herself in front of him so he could work with her hair. He tried to be gentle, though either way he knew he wasn’t doing a great job by any means. It was frayed, hair poking out and some of the small crosses uneven or mishandled. But it looked passable, at least. Even with Tomura’s shaking hands.
Shaking, useless, clumsy, good for nothing hands.
“Sorry,” he apologised, when it was done, shrinking back. “It’s… bad.”
“That’s okay!” she said, smiling brightly. Tomura knew he didn’t deserve it. He didn’t deserve it.
He didn’t respond, just nodded numbly, vision blurring.
There were bugs on his neck.
He could hear someone screaming.
He didn’t know if it was real.
“Are you real?” Tomura asked, staring at Eri.
“Mm-hm,” Eri tilted her head, legs kicking as her brow furrowed. “I think I am.”
“Okay. Good,” Tomura murmured distractedly, looking away and digging nails into his neck.
“It’s okay if it doesn’t feel real for a while,” Eri reassured, gaze soft. “When I got out and away I thought it was a dream. Because everyone was too nice. But it’s real. We’re okay now.”
Tomura stared.
He could hear the guards talking about him outside his prison cell - they were hard to pick out from the voices that swam in and out, taunting and teasing. But he could discern them if he concentrated. They had made it pretty clear that whatever happened, he would never be okay again.
(Had he ever felt okay?)
(Sometimes he slipped away into those moments before everything, when he was a child. But those were bits too fuzzy to really think through.)
“Okay,” was all he said.
She frowned for a beat, but then smiled again, patting his shoulder reassuringly.
Tomura went away.
He didn’t want to be too close to her. His presence always seemed to decay things it touched. Seemed to touch the edges of reality and strip them away. Eri was… Eri was too innocent for that.
He realised with a jolt he wanted her to be okay. That he wasn’t jealous.
(She’d been saved. He should be jealous of her)
(But he was just relieved)
“Thank you.”
She just squeezed his hand.
They sat in silence.
—---
Tomura’s whole body stiffened when Eraserhead walked in.
Danger.
This was not someone to be trusted.
This was someone to be feared.
This is someone who’d come to hurt Tomura.
(Even if he was really, really cool)
“Eri, there you are,” Eraser said, sighing. Eri perked up, eyes filling with light. “Dad!”
Wait, what?
“Sorry for making you wait. I didn’t feel good having you in the room when I gave my statement. Unfortunately we’ll have to come back next week for your piece. I don’t think they’ll make you sit in the court room together, though,” he said softly, as she ran into his arms. Tomura’s eyes flicked back and forth, wide.
“It’s okay,” Eri said, smiling still. “Do ya like my braid?”
Aizawa looked at it, nodding in approval. “Very nice. Did you do it yourself?”
“No! Tomura-chan helped me!” She pointed, and Tomura’s blood ran cold.
“Tomura-chan?” Eraser questioned, suspicion in his sharp eye as he stared at Tomura. Tomura shifted, curling into himself.
“Yeah!” Eri said, not noticing his apprehension.
Eraserhead looked Tomura up and down, but didn’t say anything to him, just turning away and leaning down to his daughter in hushed tones.
“That’s a dangerous man, Eri,” Eraserhead said lowly, serious. Eri frowned, confused, but followed him out of the room as he continued to talk.
Tomura wasn’t a man.
But then again, she wasn’t much of anything.
“Shigaraki Tomura? We’d like your statement on the trial of Chisaki Kai.”
Freedom tastes like sunflower seeds.
—-
Tomura could destroy cities.
Tomura could destroy worlds.
Tomura could destroy everything.
So in the next few weeks, she tried to destroy herself. To finally feel what it was like to fully decay.
She stopped eating.
“C’mon, eat the damn food. We’re on a schedule here, and we don’t have time to deal with brats,” the guard kicked her plate closer, and Tomura shrank away.
“If that thing won’t eat, we don’t have to make him. If he wants to starve, that’s his choice,” the other guard argued, voice dripping with contempt.
“C’mon, ain’t he only 19? Be a bit lighter, could ya,” the third one chastised, and the first snorted. “This is Shigaraki we’re talking about, Tsubasa. He’s a grown man, and a fucking monster. I know you’re new, but they shoulda briefed you on the guy, at least. He’s the head of the League of Villains.”
“Hang on- you mean like, that guy who turned out to be Endeavor’s son? Tried to kill his family?”
Tomura didn’t remember enough of her final battle to know what had happened there. She just remembered cowering, hiding inside herself as All For One slunk through her like an eel.
“Yep, same group. These bastards put All Might out of commission. Almost killed Midnight too. This man is pure evil. There’s nothing there to feel sorry for, so don’t die trying.”
“I didn’t try to kill Midnight,” Tomura rasped, and the mood shifted, as the guards turned to stare at her. “And I’m not a man, I switched character settings. Stop talking like I’m not here.”
At least wait until she decayed away, and wasn’t alive enough to listen.
“What?” Watanabe, she thought, barked out a laugh. “Jesus, don’t tell me you’re playing the damn tranny card. We ain’t throwing you into a women’s prison, if that’s what you’re hoping for. Can’t stand the kind of perverts who try to pull that shit. Actual transsexuals got it bad enough as it is without you ruining shit for them.”
A boot shoved hard into her side. And Tomura went away, into her head. And hid.
And later, when she came back, they were gone.
—--
“Tomura!”
Eri was back. She had her hair in pigtails this time, in a yellow and blue striped dress with a bow around the waist. Tomura thought she could’ve looked like that once, with their similar wide red eyes, and wavy blue locks.
“Eri?” she croaked out, from where she sat in the Witness waiting room of the courthouse.
“Shh,” she pressed a finger to her lips, eyes serious. “Dad wasn’t watching. I wanted to see you again, so I snuck away.” Eri crawled up, offering her arms out, and letting Tomura hug her. “Dad said you were a villain, but I don’t think you are. You aren’t like Him.” The way she said it let Tomura knew exactly who “he” was.
“I am,” Tomura whispered, pushing her back. “I’m… I’m not a hero. I wasn’t saved by them. Not like you.”
Eri shook her head.
“Maybe, but you aren’t bad. You’re like Himiko was. Ochaco said she was good,” she frowned, looking at Tomura with wide eyes, and Tomura closed her eyes so she didn’t cry. “She’s right. Himiko wasn’t bad.”
“I dunno what you did, but you’re nice to me, like Izuku-kun and Mirio, so I’m gonna trust you,” she explained. Oh fuck. She knew Izuku? Tomura was so fucked.
Eri curled up beside her. “Can I braid your hair?”
Tomura blinked, chest throbbing with a mix of emotions she didn’t quite get. “I- yeah. Sure.”
Eri motioned for Tomura to adjust, running her small hands through the curls, and taking a bright yellow band from around her wrist as she delicately separated out the strands. It felt oddly calming. It was the closest thing to comfort Tomura had felt in….
How long had it been?
“How did… how did heroes save you?”
A pause.
“Well. They came in and Overhaul tried to keep me, but Izuku fought him off, and Mirio grabbed me and took me away. I was in the hospital for a while, but then Aizawa said I could stay at U.A and be a family with him and Papa and Hitoshi and Emperor Kogon and Beyonce,” after a pause, she clarified. “Kogon and Beyonce are our cats.”
“I had a dog when I was… when I was a kid,” Tomura admitted. “He was named Mon and I liked taking him on walks.”
Eri gasped. “That’s so cute! Do you still have him?”
“No,” Tomura said bluntly, scratching her neck. “He died when everyone else did.”
Eri froze. “Is… is that how he took you?”
“.... yeah.”
“... my Momma and Dad didn’t want me at all.”
“My Mom wanted me, I think,” Tomura said reluctantly. “But not my Dad. I don’t think Sensei wanted me either. I had a caretaker though, Kurogiri. He was nice.”
“... Kurogiri?” Eri asked, and Tomura nodded, wincing as the motion tugged at the braid Eri was working on.
“My Dad and Papa know Kurogiri. He’s sick, though. They’re trying to get him to be better again, but they said he won’t talk to anyone but his kid, so Dad’s sad.”
“I could probably… I could wake him up,” Tomura said, eyes widening. “He was made to be my caretaker. If I told him to be… to be alive again. He might do it.” She looked at her hands, seeing blood under her nails from the gashes on her neck.
Eri seemed to vibrate at her side. “Really? Oh my gosh! It’s a fairy tale, Tomura! You can wake up Kurogiri and make Dad happy!”
“I don’t think they’d let me try, though,” Tomura said, hanging her head. “I’m… they won’t let me go.”
“They might, though, if you can make Dad happy. If you can save Kurogiri, then you’ll be a hero. And then they can’t make you a villain anymore, and they’ll let you go from wherever you are,” Eri argued, and Tomura only wished it were that simple. A final tug was given to her hair, and Eri pulled out a sparkly flip phone from her Hello Kitty purse, opening it up and flipping to a camera. “Here! I finished your braid.”
Tomura looked at herself.
She turned her head to the side, smoothing knotted strands of white hair over her shoulder.
She looked… bad. Cheeks hollow, eyes sunken and dull. She didn’t look pretty, she looked sick. But she didn’t see any of the names or faces she’d worn and worn out, identities dissolved by her shaking hands. Just a ghost, seconds from falling apart.
She wanted to fall apart.
She wanted to romanticize her destruction, glamorise her downfall, and glorify her death.
In that sense, she looked perfect.
“Thank you,” Tomura murmured, still not used to the words.
“Does it look good? Do you like it?” Eri questioned, brow furrowed, and Tomura nodded. “Yeah. It’s good. Good job.”
“Yay!” Eri cheered. ‘Good!” She smiled at Tomura, brushing a stray strand of hair from her forehead, and Tomura’s chest tightened.
Then the moment was shattered, because a gruff voice was calling Eri’s name from somewhere off in the hallways. Eri gasped, leaping up and swivelling around. “Oh no! Dad’s looking for me!” She frowned, looking over. “I’m sorry, I gotta go now. But I promise, I’m gonna find a way to get you out! So you can wake up Kurogiri! I’ll talk to Dad!”
She hooked a pinky finger around Tomura’s own, squeezing before turning to run off and out of the room.
Tomura didn’t tell her that if life was kind, it would be too late for that.
If life was kind, Tomura would be dead.
—--