[ Hello followers and or fans. I present to you a Tomura Shigaraki piece! This was inspired by the game Coffee Talk. I haven’t finished it, so no spoilers, please. Speaking of which, this piece may have minor manga spoilers so beware. There are also minor themes of kidnapping, a touch of blood, and unwanted affection. It’s Shigaraki, so shouldn’t really expect anything less. ]
[ Being the owner of a coffee shop wasn’t easy, but you found purpose in it. While you were used to all sorts of characters entering your shop for a late-night cup of joe, none was stranger than the hooded man who began frequenting your shop. After a small conversation with him, you’re left feeling a bit shaken. Little do you know that he’s Tomura Shigaraki and he has plans for you. ]
As Tomura sat at his table in the corner of the small coffee shop in Esuha City, his partially gloved hands tightly gripped the cup of coffee he held. It burned him up to see you converse with another man who was one of those lame so-called “heroes.”
A young and ignorant one at that, who thought boasting about being assigned to night patrol for the first time was some monumental accomplishment. Spoiler alert: It wasn’t. He didn’t bother to catch the stupid hero’s name, not that it would matter.
But he had the most irritating suit that consisted of a yellow visor, and a white skin-tight top with some obscure number written across it. He also had yellow and green shoulder pads and a long red cape with matching red gloves, blue pants, and white knee-high boots.
His hair was styled in the most idiotic way Tomura had ever seen. Seriously, who spikes up their hair like that? His eyes were also beady and blue. But what was most irritating was that smile. Damn, he’d like to take a hammer and impact those teeth.
This wasn’t what made his blood boil, however. Oh no. It was the fact that you smiled and laughed at the pathetic excuse for a hero’s lame jokes. Like super lame jokes. Yeah, maybe you were just being polite. Business was business.
This didn’t cross Tomura’s mind. He thought your actions were genuine, and damn, did that piss him off. Why the hell were you even entertaining heroes? Yeah, your coffee shop was relatively new to the area, but it had unique features that set it apart from the competition.
For starters, it opened during the evening and remained open until dawn. You were a lifesaver for those who started their work shift at night. You also helped struggling students who needed a boost of caffeine and a quiet place to work on their assignments.
Or idiot wannabe heroes who thought they were just so cool because they patrolled the streets under moonlight. He clenched his jaw. Oh, if only he knew where the egotistical idiot was patrolling, he’d easily end his damn life. Turn him into nothing but a miserable pile of dust.
It was almost laughable to think that you didn’t even know he was one of the most feared villains in Japan and the leader of The League of Villains. Then again, ignorance was bliss and even villains needed a break occasionally.
This was another reason he tolerated frequenting your shop even if he just stumbled into it one night after “taking care of business.” From what he could recall that night he found himself on the edge of collapsing from exhaustion. It had been pouring rain and he was staggering along the crowded sidewalk.
His anger grew with everyone that passed him and the urge to disintegrate them was intensifying. He was wearing his usual get-up that evening: a large, oversized hood that concealed his face, long skinny jeans that ended just above his ankles, and his usual red sneakers.
He growled in frustration and reached up to wipe his face, but it was of no use considering the rain continued to come down. However, when he lowered his hand, he saw it. The neon sign gleamed through the rain and drew him in like a beacon.
This is also when he made the, admittedly, stupid choice to seek temporary shelter in your establishment and possibly hold everyone hostage if needed. He remembered the sickening warmth that washed over him, in contrast to the cold weary weather when he stepped inside.
He also recalled how the scent of coffee filled his nostrils, along with hints of cinnamon and honey. But what was most eye-catching was you. From the moment he spotted you behind the counter crafting one of your specialty drinks that wasn’t even on the menu for some useless dirtbag present in your shop at the time, he was intrigued.
Of course, that was another unique aspect of your establishment. You were known for your experimental drinks and always wanted to see how well they did with the few customers you had. Regardless, the way you gracefully moved behind the counter made him mesmerized.
He remained frozen at the door, seemingly in a trance until you looked at him and casually welcomed him to the shop. Your equally sickening smile seemed to churn something deep inside him and instead of feeling exhausted, a new and strange emotion enveloped him.
Maybe it stemmed from the fact that even if he looked like a drenched rat who just finished fighting its way through the sewers and onto the streets of the world above, you showed him kindness. He walked to the counter, ignoring the looks of concern from people he didn’t give a damn about.
Hell, he could easily murder them if given the chance. He laid his hands on the counter, ensuring that his thumbs were tucked inward and pressed against the bottom of his palms. His hood continued to cast a shadow over his face, and despite his intense red eyes staring you down, your stupid smile remained.
“What would you like to drink?” You asked, making his lips turn upward in a snarl. “Nothing,” he barked back. He had no money, not that he would pay even if he wanted anything from the shitty excuse for a coffee shop. As if sensing his hostility, you took a step back and cocked your head, appearing more like a puppy than a barista.
But the way your eyes studied him as if looking through his soul, made him curl his hands into fists. It was clear he was getting annoyed, both because of your reaction and the few customers observing his interaction with you. Then you said something he didn’t expect, “It’s on the house.”
At first, he thought it was because, to you, he looked homeless. Maybe down on his luck, but that didn’t make sense. You could have easily told him to leave if he didn’t order anything, and what authorized you to give drinks on the house?
That’s when something clicked and after glancing around to see if there were any other baristas present, he came to the only conclusion that was possible. ‘Hm…so you’re the owner, huh?' He remained quiet and briefly glanced at the menu.
You noticed what he was doing and glanced at it too, but it was challenging to know exactly what he was looking at. So instead, you suggested, “An expresso maybe?” His eyes tore from the menu and lingered on you for a long moment.
Then he shoved his hands into his pockets, marched over to the table in the corner of your shop, and carelessly plopped down. You blinked, somewhat perplexed but grabbed a coffee cup and began making the espresso for him. He wasn’t the first hard-headed customer you had encountered.
Another wave of exhaustion enveloped him, and he closed his eyes briefly, almost ready to give in when he heard something. It sounded like two glass objects scraping against one another. When he opened his eyes, the first thing he saw was you and that damned smile. The second was the expresso sitting on a saucer plate.
A soft growl rumbled in his throat. He wasn’t sure if he was more irritated that you had given him something he didn’t even ask for or the fact that he let you get away with it. He could easily turn everyone in the cafe into dust, including you…so why didn’t he?
“Pff,” he grumbled and slowly straightened his posture before slipping two fingers through the cup’s handle. He brought it to his lips and paused when he noticed you were still standing near him. “Go away,” he demanded, his words coming out with a snarl.
“Oh, uh, sure!” You replied, nervously scampering away like a frightened rabbit back to the safety of its burrow. Yet, it was this moment that burned into his memory and kept him returning. Over a short time, however, his slight curiosity about you turned into an obsession.
The same obsession that burned with unmistakable fury whenever someone else captured your attention, even if for a moment. “Heh, well it was super amazing talking to you but I gotta go! See ya!” When that damned blond-headed idiot of a hero finally left, Tomura sighed, and his tense muscles relaxed.
He leaned back in his chair and glanced around. There were still a few people present, one at the counter mindlessly playing on their phone. Another sitting on the far side of the said counter, reading a book and casually taking sips of their drink.
The last one sat in the opposite corner away from everyone, typing on their laptop. “Tch,” he clenched his jaw and dug his nails into the table. He wanted them to leave so he could finally be alone with you. But if that’s the game they wanted to play, he’d wait them out. Oh yes, he would win.
Slow and steady, as much as he hated it, was the right approach to this situation. Like any good villain, he wasn’t about to deviate from the plan brewing in his mind. Oh no. He’d be patient. Like an animal stalking its prey and pouncing at exactly the right moment. So, there he remained, studying every move you made.
From the way your fingers grazed along the machines, to the way you poured milk into lattes and skillfully morphed it into art. He burned every facial expression you made into his mind. He pondered how it would be to see that sweet face turn into horror when you realized who he was.
The cafe emptied shortly after two in the morning. A twisted smirk danced across his face when he pressed his foot against the floor and slid his chair back to create an eerie scraping noise that echoed through the building and caught your attention.
To his amusement, you jumped, and your pretty little eyes were filled with concern as they looked in his direction. He tried to suppress the chuckle building up in his throat and went to the counter. Your back was now turned to him, seemingly over the slight scare he had given you.
He briefly glanced at the counter, noticing an empty cup sitting on a saucer. He grinned and picked it up, hovering it just over an inch above the counter before releasing it. He took pride in watching you jump and spin on your heels. Your eyes were yet again wide, and fear sparkled in them.
That made his lips curl into a wicked smirk. He couldn’t help but think about how he’d love to see that look in your eyes every day. Oh yes, what a good little addition you’d make to The League. Then again, he didn’t want to share you per se, so maybe he’d just keep you to himself.
Kurogiri would have some questions, he knew. It was almost pathetic that he needed a caregiver, but Kurogiri was trained to obey his every order. However, as of late, Tomura noticed a concerned and suspicious leer in those yellow eyes. Of course, that was something only an idiot would miss.
For now, he was focused on you and the way your hand was still pressed against your chest as you looked at him, still as a statue. “Uh heh…” you chuckled, sensing the awkward tension in the air. Then a thought dawned on you that this man had wandered into your cafe when it was raining particularly hard one night a few months back.
In addition to providing a welcoming environment, you connected with your customers and assisted them in any way you could. This usually involved letting them talk through their problems and sharing advice. Unfortunately, that wasn’t the case with this mysterious man.
He didn’t budge no matter how hard you tried to crack his shell and rarely spoke more than three words to you. If you were being honest, after that night, you thought you’d never see him again. Yet, to your surprise, he continued to return.
Another thought dawned on you as he continued to stare at you from across the counter. This was that you didn’t even know his name. Even if you did, it wouldn’t change that there was something about him you couldn’t place.
Ultimately, however, you knew it was wrong to judge a book by its cover. Even though that was quite hard not to do considering he never showed his face, some kind of hood was always hiding it. “Uh, hello,” you said, shifting your feet.
Your greeting was met with silence and the tension seeping through the air grew thicker with each second that passed, slowly suffocating you. For a moment, you thought it was because of the lack of customers and tried to convince yourself that if your cafe wasn’t empty, this would feel less…strange.
But another part of you couldn’t help but, again, feel there was something sinister about him. Although he had done nothing wrong…yet. “Uh,” you cautiously approached him, “is there something you need?” That same wicked smirk decorated his lips, and he took a seat at the counter, resting his arms against it.
His gaze was intense, and the longer he stared at you, the more your heart raced. His smirk then softened, and he leaned his elbow on the counter, cradling his cheek in his hand. “So,” the raspy sound of his voice shattered the silence that permeated the air, “what do you think of All Might?”
You knit your eyebrows, shocked that he spoke more than three words, and asked you a question on top of it. You had a front-row seat for most of the conversations at your cafe, conversations that sometimes, discussed heroes, and on occasion, the number one hero, All Might.
“Um…” you glanced away, uncertain how to answer. You had never been asked exactly what you thought of him! You knew many people admired and adored All Might and for obvious reasons. It surely wasn’t an easy feat becoming the number one hero, let alone retaining the spot for as long as he did.
But were you obsessed with him like others? Did you rush to get his autograph whenever you saw him? Not really. Maybe that was because you were busy trying to maintain your own life. In addition, keeping up with the fabulous daytime life when you were a night owl was hard.
Not to say crime stopped at any point of the day or night, but things seemed calmer when the moon and the stars decorated the sky. You awkwardly rubbed the side of your arm, your stomach twisting and causing a small wave of nausea to consume you.
“Well, he, uh, I mean I think…” you tried taking a deep breath to calm yourself. ‘Come on! You’ve dealt with worse customers,’ you thought before your eyes shifted back to him, and his shadowed face. Yet you could still see that smirk and it drew you in, as much as you hated to admit that.
“I guess I don’t have an opinion on him,” you replied, shrugging. “Kind of hard to keep up with uh, the heroes when you’re busy with your own life,” you motioned to your surroundings with an awkward chuckle. Tomura narrowed his eyes. That wasn’t necessarily the response he was looking for.
It didn’t take an idiot to realize you didn’t put much thought into it like you only said it to please him. While he didn’t mind that, he also appreciated the truth. “And what makes him so damn great?” His voice somewhat fluctuated as he spoke, and you sensed a happy tone dancing within it.
You shrugged, “I guess what makes anyone great?” Your answer stumped him. His posture stiffened, and he lowered his hand from his cheek. “Hm,” that smirk faded. “Is that right?” He asked before leaning over the counter.
“And what’ll happen when he falls?” His question made you jolt and look at him with a raised eyebrow. “Heh, a-are you a villain or something?” You joked, and to your surprise, he laughed, and the sound of it caused a violent shiver down your spine.
Another smirk painted his face and he slowly got up from his seat. He didn’t say anything, but the way he stared left you shivering again. Then he turned and walked to the door. The familiar sound of a bell signified his departure, and you leaned against one of the coffee machines behind you, feeling the heat against your back.
Your heart remained fluttering in your chest like a hummingbird and a wave of fear washed over you. The suspicions you had about him were now confirmed. There was something sinister about him. It didn’t sit right with you that your joke remained unanswered either.
In the back of your mind, however, there was a small voice, maybe your conscience, that told you it was still wrong to judge him. But after that interaction, how could you not? You took a deep breath, trying to regain your previous composure, and looked around the empty room.
The sounds of the night city continued to gently hum as you finally found the courage to close your shop. However, you were unwilling to open tomorrow for fear of seeing him again. Your customers, the very few you had anyway, would understand if you needed a break.
The sound of crunching leaves and twigs underneath his feet, and the melody of bugs chirping and owls singing in the night fell deaf to his ears. His hood, unlike in your cafe, was down, allowing his silver-white hair to shimmer against the moonlight as he walked down the dirt path that led to The League of Villains hideaway.
He scanned his surroundings again. Unlike the usual formal attire he wore, he sported a white sleeping cap with a pom pom at the end of it. His normal metal brace encircled his neck. A cotton button-up pajama top with purple polka dots and matching bottoms covered his body.
While he tried to sleep, it proved impossible as his thoughts remained on Tomura. It was his purpose to always serve and protect him. Yet, as of late, the young boy favored departing for an unknown location and was absent for hours at a time.
While he did not doubt Tomura’s abilities, that didn’t make his purpose less important. If something happened to him, he needed to be there to ensure he did not receive harm. As such, this was not the first night he had stayed up into the early morning hours waiting for the boy to return.
The sky was still dark, but he knew the sun would rise soon. His purple and black mist swirled around as he anxiously awaited Tomura’s arrival. When he heard footsteps approaching, he remained still and focused his attention forward. Relief washed over him when he saw exactly who he was looking for.
“Tomura Shigaraki,” he said, his voice deep and stern. His eyes narrowed the closer the boy came. As usual, no words were spoken between them but rather a silent acknowledgment as Tomura passed him and opened the door.
Kurogiri followed him inside and ensured the door was locked. Tomura grumbled as he walked up to the bar and took his seat. He stared mindlessly at the counter that reminded him of your cafe and the terrified look on your face replayed in his mind, making him smile.
This immediately caught Kurogiri’s attention as he walked behind the counter and to the small bar. Tomura rarely smiled unless someone else was hurt or he felt victory within his grasp. He narrowed his eyes but remained quiet as he grabbed a clean glass.
He added a few ice cubes to it, ignoring the clinking sound they created when they hit the bottom. He then grabbed the whiskey that Tomura was prone to drinking and filled the glass halfway before presenting it to him.
However, he noticed Tomura grabbed the glass and merely stared at the ice cubes floating in it. While he had no idea what was brewing in the boy’s mind, he would be shocked to know that as soon as Tomura looked at the glass, his mind envisioned a coffee cup.
It frustrated him to know you were on his mind again. Yet, the idea that you could be of use to him clouded his judgment. Surely there had to be a reason why he felt drawn to you. While he despised the feeling that stirred inside him whenever he was near or thought about you, he knew he would put it to rest.
Yes…soon he wouldn’t have to worry about this feeling bothering him constantly. Silence filled the space between them as Tomura finally sipped his whiskey. Kurogiri watched him intensively as if studying his every move. Perhaps if he had done that before, he would know the answer to the question he was about to ask.
“Where have you been lately, Tomura Shigaraki?” Without the hand obscuring his face, he could see how Tomura’s facial features contorted with annoyance and anger at his question. However, he continued to push, having become too used to the boy’s immature and sometimes childish attitude.
“You have been acting strangely lately, Tomura Shigaraki. I cannot help but assume there is something you have your sights set on,” he stated. “If that is true, then I must insist that I aid you in any way possible.” He would not accept any other alternative.
A growl rumbled in his throat, but he should have known this would happen. It seemed that he couldn’t go too far without Kurogiri trailing behind him. Hell, even when he tried to keep something secret, he was always found out.
It was pretty damn annoying, but in any case, Kurogiri was a Nomu and as such, he was created to obey his every command. Although at times, it seemed like he had free will. He lowered the glass with a thud and glared at Kurogiri.
However, he didn’t falter under the boy's intense gaze. Rather, he returned it with a blank stare. Tomura sighed and tightened his grip around the glass. The temptation to shatter it in his hand was strong as the image of you popped into his head again.
“Y/n,” the hatred in his eyes grew dark and obsessive as he growled your name and noted that it weighed heavily on his tongue. Kurogiri remained silent, processing what he had just been told. “I see,” he said, stepping closer although the counter separated them.
“Is this person of interest to you, Tomura Shigaraki?” He assumed that you were another villain or perhaps a hero student and that Tomura wished to recruit you as a member of The League of Villains. The burning in his throat was intense when he swallowed the rest of his whiskey.
Silence filled the air before he answered, “Yeah.” Kurogiri nodded but also noted that Tomura’s stare was now directed at the ice cubes that littered the bottom of his glass. This was, again, a strange reaction that contrasted with the boy’s usual personality.
After another minute of silence, an angry expression enveloped Tomura’s features. “They are,” he hissed, and like before, his grip tightened around the glass. His knuckles turned white, and several sharp cracks echoed as it shattered, showering his hand in shards.
Although many would react with concern when something like this happened, Kurogiri grabbed a rag and disposed of the shards that now decorated the counter. “Tomura,” he said. His tone was like that of a father, and he ignored the growl he received in response.
Instead, once the shards were dealt with, he grabbed Tomura’s hand and brushed away any remaining bits of glass. He noticed the few small cuts now etched into the boy’s skin, but it was unlikely he’d want them properly taken care of.
“What do you intend to do regarding Y/n?” He asked once he put the rag away. At the question, Tomura smiled wickedly and leaned his elbow on the counter. “I have a few ideas…” he responded. “I see,” Kurogiri leaned closer to him, “and what do you need me to do, Tomura Shigaraki?”
The sun had gone down by the time you arrived at your shop. Although you chose not to open, you figured you’d take this opportunity to catch up on work you had been falling behind on. This included inventory stock and maintenance.
Additionally, you had ideas for new cafe drinks you wanted to experiment with. Since the curtains were drawn and the establishment was closed, you could do so in peace. ‘Katz Caffeine Coffee Cafe’ His eyes narrowed when he read the sign. Not exactly a catchy name for an establishment.
He could hardly believe that Tomura stated you owned this cafe. While Esuha City was known for its nightlife, he still thought it strange that you chose to open a coffee shop that stayed open late into the morning hours when there were already so many others that did so.
‘Perhaps they think they are…capable of conquering the competition,’ he thought, turning to Tomura who was wearing all-black clothing, including another hood that concealed his face. Of course, that meant very little considering the course of events to come.
“Are you ready, Tomura Shigaraki?” He asked, ignoring the passersby on the sidewalk. They needed to accomplish this quickly and ensure that any heroes present in the area could not interfere before Tomura got what he wanted.
He chuckled in response to Kurogiri’s question and lifted his head, his red eyes beaming from underneath the shadow cast over his face. “Yes,” he said, before pointing at Dabi who was currently nestled in the alleyway between your coffee shop and the next useless building.
His arms were crossed, and his leg was bent, allowing him to press his foot against the opposite building wall. He was wearing his usual attire, a large overcoat with multiple coattails. His shirt was crisp white and wrinkled, hanging loosely from his chest.
His pants were dark in color and had multiple stitch marks across them and as usual, he was wearing combat boots. “Pff,” he sighed. In the back of his mind, he wondered how he could agree to this. However, he had always been good at killing people and causing chaos.
The thought of that alone brought a wicked smirk to his face. He stepped out of the alleyway, shoving his hands into his pockets. He glanced up, noting the moon and stars in the sky before looking at Tomura. “What do you want me to do again?” He asked, his voice carrying a certain annoyed tone to it.
“Why don’t you just shut up and put those damn flames to use?” Tomura hissed in response. “Make sure these stupid people stay away from this place until I’m done getting what I want,” he said, narrowing his eyes on Dabi who, from the start, had always been a thorn in his side.
But at least he knew who was in charge and had enough sense to follow the orders he was given. Dabi rolled his eyes. What the hell was so damn special about you he didn’t know. But regardless, he continued to watch as people walked up and down the sidewalk.
“Whatever,” he replied before curling his hands into fists, his knuckles cracking softly as he did so. A blue flame ignited, engulfing his hands and wrists. “Let’s get this over with,” he grumbled and walked out into the middle of the street.
Car tires screeched, and horns sounded through the air. Some foolish individuals even cursed him out and asked what he was doing. They quickly received an answer when his flames consumed their cars and panic erupted. All of which made him smile.
“Heh,” his grin widened as he watched some people push others to the ground and trample them. Tomura watched the spectacle with amusement before walking to the front door of your establishment, Kurogiri trailing behind him.
“Open your warp gate,” he demanded. Without hesitation, the dark fog that surrounded Kurogiri’s body extended and formed what appeared to be a dark portal in front of Tomura. He stared at it a moment before stepping through, disappearing into the void.
Panic struck you when screams sounded from outside causing you to drop the mug you were holding. It shattered instantly when it hit the floor. Instead of cleaning it up, you jumped over the counter and rushed to the large display window to the left side of your shop.
You reached a shaky hand out for the curtain, your heart pounding erratically in your chest making you feel short of breath. Your throat tightened, forcing you to swallow hard as you finally pulled it back and peeked outside. The only thing you saw was a blinding flame, blue in color, blazing in the street in front of your shop.
The building across the way crumbled under the flames that consumed it. However, you also noticed an individual dressed in black standing in the street, among the flames that didn’t appear to be harming him. It was like he admired the destruction around him including the panicked individuals who continued to run away.
You knit your eyebrows and screamed when he suddenly turned his head. His eyes, almost as blue as the fire that danced around him, seemed to peer right into your soul. You released the curtain immediately before pressing your back against the wall.
Your heart was pounding, and you suspected that at any moment it would leap out of your chest entirely. Your legs trembled threatening to give out from underneath you. The fear that consumed you at the moment was unlike anything you had experienced before. Yes, villains have attacked Esuha City countless times but rarely at night.
You grasped your chest, allowing your nails to dig into the front of your shirt before something else caught your eye. Your head snapped sideways, and you watched in horror as some type of dark portal appeared. In a panic, you ran back to the counter and jumped over it to hide.
You crouched down, pressing your hands against the top of your head and forcing yourself to hold your breath when you heard footsteps. Tomura grinned as he stepped out of Kurogiri’s warp gate and glanced around. It almost brought him delight seeing your shop empty.
Of course, he knew better than to be fooled into thinking it was actually empty. Having overheard one of your many conversations with one of the many idiots that took your attention away, he knew you took priority over certain duties regarding your business when it was closed.
He knew you were here. Even if you were hiding, he’d find you. He continued forward, stopping at the counter, unaware that you lingered on the other side. He allowed his partially gloved fingers to skim across its slick surface.
“Tomura Shigaraki,” Kurogiri said, walking behind him. Your eyes widened when you heard his name, and that fear intensified, making you freeze completely. Tomura Shigaraki. He was a ruthless villain and leader of The League of Villains.
You couldn’t bear to think about the thousands of people he’s harmed, much less killed without feeling nauseous. However, this didn’t stop questions from racing through your mind. What was he doing? What did he want from you? Were you going to die tonight? Why did he bring someone else with him?
You swallowed hard, letting out a quiet breath, and slowly positioned yourself on your hands and knees. Maybe if you crawled around to the storage area located at the back of your shop you could escape or so you hoped. Tomura faced Kurogiri with a glare.
“Are you most certain Y/n is present?” He asked, aware that his question may sound silly, perhaps even stupid. “Of course, they’re here!” He growled in response, slamming his hand on the counter making the sound echo eerily through the shop.
A tremble coursed through your body when you heard your name, and you continued to crawl as quickly and as quietly as you could across the floor. However, you only made it halfway before something pierced your hand. You forgot about the mug you had shattered earlier.
It was one of those shattered pieces that cut your hand easily, making you hiss out involuntarily. Once you registered your actions, you clamped your non-bloody hand over your mouth, silently cursing yourself for giving away your location.
Panic coursed through your body again, and you decided it was better to run and die than to be a sitting duck. However, by the time you got up, Kurogiri had already moved. “You will not escape!” he bellowed. The mist around him spread like a blanket of darkness and his eyes blazed with fury.
Your shoes squeaked against the floor as you stumbled to a stop, and you grasped onto the counter to prevent yourself from falling. The dull ache from the cut on your palm was nothing compared to the dread you felt when you locked eyes with those yellow orbs that were filled with nothing less than hatred.
Once he was certain you were not escaping, the mist that had expanded from his body shrank. That’s when you noticed the oddly formal outfit he was wearing. The crisp long-sleeved button-up shirt caught your attention first, followed by the black tie that adorned its collar and was tucked behind the gray vest that hugged his figure.
He also wore a black belt and dark dress pants with polished Oxford shoes. His eyes narrowed and he looked at you with such intensity and sternness that you almost felt like a child. A frightened child trying to keep the monsters under their bed at bay.
Without thinking, you turned and ran in the opposite direction. What exactly you were planning to do was up for debate. Reaching the front door would be ideal for escape, but then you’d have to deal with the villain outside who was currently turning everything into ash.
Well, either way, it was better than dealing with two villains in a small space. Unfortunately, like Kurogiri, Tomura cut you off quickly. You stumbled to a stop again, but unlike before, you lost your footing and fell onto the floor. You frantically crawled back, despite realizing you were trapped.
“P-please I…” you could still feel those yellow eyes burning a hole in your back. Swallowing heavily, you thought it best to focus on the man in front of you. However, an odd feeling of déjà vu washed over you when you noticed the outfit he was wearing.
“W-wait a minute, y-you’re-” That odd customer, the one that had visited your shop countless times before and the one whose conversation left you trembling. “Heh, oh good, you recognize me,” he replied and lowered his hood. The sight of his appearance sent another shiver down your spine.
He was a slender man, with skin as pale as the moonlight. In addition to the wrinkles around his eyes, his right eye had visible scars across it. His lips were severely chapped and the right side, too, had scarring and a small mole. His hair was silver-white, and half of it was tied behind his head.
The front of his bangs hung in his face in uneven waves and the bottom portion of his hair brushed against his shoulders. His menacing smirk coupled with his bright red irises sent another shiver down your spine. The answer to your previous question was revealed.
He was a villain and he had pretended to be your customer. What could he possibly gain from doing that?! It didn’t make sense, and you still didn’t know why he was here or what he wanted from you. Of course, you failed to realize that he continued to return because he was fascinated by you rather than your coffee shop.
He chuckled, and the disgruntled sound made you spring to your feet. The urge to run was overwhelming, but when you glanced over your shoulder, you saw his accomplice was still present. Additionally, you knew he’d stop you if you made such a foolish attempt. Clenching your jaw, your hands balled into shaky fists.
‘Damn it!’ you cursed inside your head, feeling your eyes burn as they watered over like a dam ready to burst. Kurogiri noticed this, but it only added to his confusion about why Tomura was after you. Someone so delicate and fragile.
It was clear you had nothing to offer The League, yet he refused to believe it had to do with feelings. Tomura was emotional, yes but his emotions were usually negative. Kurogiri was certain that, if by chance, the young boy fell in love, he would take after All For One.
He would not see his token of affection as someone to take care of and tend to. Rather he would see them as his possession. Something that belonged to him and him alone, and whoever dared to do something foolish like take his possession away would suffer a most gruesome death.
Perhaps that was the recent change in Tomura. He had found a new possession to claim as his. Your chest felt heavy, and yet tight as if you were crushed by an enormous weight. Your whole body trembled, and your eyes were wide and looked irritated.
You swallowed and pressed yourself against one of the expresso machines that littered the counter. It was nestled between the coffee grinder and the iced coffee dispenser. Both threatened to tip over as you desperately grasped onto them like they were the only lifeline you had.
Once again you felt the dull ache of your injured palm and it reminded you that this was not a dream. Tomura continued to step toward you, further emphasizing that you were trapped like an injured animal in the corner of an alley.
The echo of your heart pounded in your ears and like you were deprived of oxygen, there was a suffocating tension in the air. His eyes gleamed like a powerful demon as he growled, “Don’t look so damn scared!” and slammed his hands against the machines that were currently digging into your back.
He grinned at the sound of your scream and pride filled him as he observed the devastated state you were in. Then he leaned back to remove his gloves. Kurogiri watched him drop them to the floor and made a mental note to pick them up before they left.
Although Tomura had plenty of specially made gloves, he preferred to keep as many as possible. “Now, heh, I’ll make this simple for you,” he said slamming his hands against the machines behind you again. The only difference this time was several loud cracks sounded, and in a matter of seconds they began to decay.
Their once shiny and solid surfaces turned gray and crumbled like sand. You felt the weight of them disappear, forcing you to steady yourself as they turned to dust. Your eyes never left his, however. As terrified as you were, you refused to look away.
“Come with me, or I’ll fucking kill you,” he growled, and his words shook you. There was no way you wanted to die, but you couldn’t go with him! That was a fate worse than death. In addition, you couldn’t abandon what you created. This shop, this business was your life.
Even though you only had a handful of customers, they needed this shop to act as a safe zone. A place where they could talk about their worries and problems without judgment. The very idea of taking that away finally broke you, and a soft sob passed your lips before hot tears rolled down your cheeks.
Tomura paused, and his eyes traced the tears that slid down your face and slowly dripped from your chin. Then his eyebrows knitted as if he was confused about why you were crying. But it didn’t matter. Even if you foolishly refused to go with him, he’d take you by force. As the seconds ticked by, Kurogiri narrowed his eyes.
“Tomura Shigaraki,” he said, watching the boy pause and look at him with a snarl. He knew he needed to be careful with his next words. While there was the possibility that you meant something to Tomura, even if the boy himself hadn’t fully realized that yet, it was clear this was going nowhere.
Despite knowing he did not take failure well, Kurogiri needed to ensure Tomura returned to The League safely with or without you. However, his focus turned to the front door of your establishment which not only ignited into flames but was ripped off its hinges when Dabi forcibly used his fire to barge his way in.
Tomura, surprisingly, seemed unphased by this sudden intrusion despite your accompanying scream. He leaned back, looking at Dabi blankly. “Just what the hell is taking so damn long?” He questioned, and your throat tightened as you tried to suppress another sob.
With Tomura in front of you, it was impossible to see the man who forced his way into your shop. Not that it would matter considering your vision was blurry due to tears. You could, however, see the blue flames that were beginning to consume your cafe, and the heat made you sweat.
The only salus you had, as much as you hated to admit it, was Tomura shielding you from who you could only assume was the same man you had seen in the street earlier. You then assumed that he was also part of The League of Villains.
“The heroes have been alerted, let’s go already,” he hissed, gesturing behind him and toward the now broken entranceway. Pain danced in your eyes as you watched his flames consume the building inch by inch. Tomura growled. “Shut up!” He snapped before looking at Kurogiri.
“Well?” He said, snatching his gloves off the floor and making you flinch. Sweat dripped down your forehead, and your tears had evaporated. You felt faint among the other overwhelming emotions that caused your knees to buckle and you to fall back onto the floor in front of Tomura.
He paused and glanced at you before his eyes fell back on Kurogiri. He looked at him blankly, awaiting his orders. “Use your warp gate already!” Tomura screamed like a spoiled child and placed his hands on his hips before glaring at Kurogiri.
He placed his hand on his chest and bowed. “As you wish, Tomura Shigaraki,” he replied, and your heart jumped in your chest. ‘Warp gate?’ Suddenly that image of the dark portal from earlier popped into your head. That was his quirk! Your eyes widened when you watched more dark portals appear, seemingly out of thin air.
You gasped. “Wait!” You cried out, but it was too late. The ground dissolved beneath you. A rush of wind enveloped you, and the sensation of weightlessness before gravity kicked in and you fell flat onto solid ground. You groaned, noting the floor was cold and rough.
You recovered after a moment and slowly opened your eyes. Despite your vision spinning you could make out various glass bottles lining two wooden shelves, and the bright yellow light behind them only irritated your vision further.
“H-huh?” You pushed yourself onto your knees, slowly taking in your new surroundings. The dizziness caused a wave of nausea to flow over you, but you refused to give in to the feeling. Instead, you took a deep breath and continued looking around.
You noticed there was a doorway covered with a purple curtain next to the shelves. A wooden counter surrounded the area, and a small television rested at the end of the counter. If this was a bar, a wide-screen television was usually present.
‘Weird…’ you thought, before noticing the walls were made from brick and a coffee machine was sitting on a small table next to the television. Your heart sank in your chest as you were reminded of your cafe which was likely nothing but a pile of smelted wood and ash now.
Your head immediately snapped toward the purple curtain as another dark portal appeared. You watched in horror as Tomura stepped out and frantically crawled back, only to hit something. You trembled, feeling your throat tighten as you tilted your head to see that strange mist man. His eyes stared into your soul again.
“Ah!” You frantically twist your body, wanting to get away from him. However, you hit one of the shelves and the sound of the bottles clinking together echoed eerily through the room. “W-Where am I!?” You frantically asked, your voice dripping with fear. Tomura sighed when he walked up to you.
Knowing you were trapped again. You could only shake uncontrollably as he crouched down and forcibly grabbed your chin. You could feel his nails dig into your flesh through the glove he was wearing and when you looked into his eyes, they had an inhuman glint.
“Don’t ask such a stupid question,” he growled, baring his teeth, and tightening his grip making you wince. “Kurogiri,” he said when he released your chin and threw you back against the shelf, yet again making the bottles rattle.
Your heart pounded, and you fisted your hands into your hair. Ignoring the dried blood on your injured palm and the accompanying sting that came with it. “Yes, Tomura Shigaraki?” He replied, shifting his attention from you to him.
“Make sure their stupid hand is cleaned,” he said, referring to your injured palm. Yes, he wasn’t so ignorant as to not notice it. He took pride in being observant. Noticing every little detail always gives you an advantage over others.
Kurogiri found the request rather…strange and shifted his gaze to you. Despite the distressed state you were in, he wondered what it was about you that made Tomura act like he cared. ‘Yes...what does he see in this one?’ It was surely a mystery, but perhaps you’d prove to be useful.
“Yes, Tomura Shigaraki,” he repeated before walking closer to you. A gasp passed your lips and you snapped back to reality when you looked at him. Your eyes were wide, and your face was colorless. “After that,” Tomura said, grabbing your chin and making you hiss out.
His eyebrows slanted, his eyes beaming as he stared at you. His lips twisted into a smirk and when he leaned forward, you squeezed your eyes shut. You expected more pain, perhaps even his opposite hand on your throat or tangled in your hair.
Instead, you felt the roughness of his lips against yours making your eyes snap open and your breath hitch. Kurogiri’s eyes widened as he watched Tomura initiate this act of affection and his body stiffened. Perhaps it was his instinct to protect Tomura, but this was the first time he had seen the boy act this way.
His eyes then narrowed, and his body relaxed. ‘Perhaps they have some value to him,’ and if that were true, then Kurogiri would too, see value in you. Dabi grumbled as he pulled back the curtain, opening his mouth to speak. However, he stopped short when he saw the scene before him.
He narrowed his eyes and placed his hand on his hip. “Just what the hell is going on?” He demanded and Kurogiri looked at him, unable to explain. When he realized this, he shrugged. He didn’t really give a shit about what Tomura was doing or who he was going to fuck or do who knows what with.
“Whatever,” he replied before walking around the counter and toward the door, muttering about burning something else. He growled against your lips, making your eyes widen. However, it wasn’t that difficult to figure out it had something to do with his accomplice entering the room and leaving.
Tomura hated interruptions as much as failure. When silence fell over the room again, he noticed that your lips felt plump, smooth, and perfectly shaped. It made his blood boil, like an angry firestorm that destroyed everything in its wake. Yet, there was a trace of undeniable greed.
That possessive nature reminded him you were his to take and do with what he wanted. Yes, you were his possession, and you would never leave him. However, his lips tasted bitter to you and left your skin crawling. What should have been a warm or passionate action was an unwanted advancement.
Yet, you were too afraid to move away. To push him, do anything to stop or break the kiss. How could you live with yourself having kissed a villain? Did he want you because he had feelings for you? Was everything he and his accomplices did because he wanted you for himself?
The realization made you gag. Although it was silenced between your mouths, it didn’t make Tomura any less aware you were gagging, and he pulled away with another growl. However, instead of hurling you against the shelf again, he stood up and walked around the counter to take a seat.
Even when he was a short distance away from you, your body continued to tremble. Kurogiri, meanwhile, grabbed the first aid kit. While All For One provided Tomura with medical attention when needed, courtesy of Dr. Kyudai Garaki.
Kurogiri kept a first aid kit on hand because Tomura had some self-destructive habits, such as scratching his skin open, primarily around his neck area. As such, he attended to these minor injuries and ensured they were properly cleaned and bandaged when needed.
Although he hated the idea of using precious resources on anyone except Tomura, he could not resist an order given to him. So, he crouched down beside you and grabbed your hand, making you gasp again. He paused, only to look at you. It was clear you were scared, and your trembling didn’t help.
But you weren’t resisting and so he gently took your hand in his, examining the cut. The skin around it was red and inflamed, and dried blood was smeared across your palm and fingers. However, that was nothing minor disinfectant couldn’t take care of.
Compared to Tomura, Kurogiri had a strange gentleness about him. At least that’s what you could gather from the delicate way he cleaned your wound and wiped the dried blood away before wrapping it up. When he released your hand, you pressed it against your chest, feeling the now steady pace of your heart.
You watched as he gathered the bloody rag and threw it away. After that, he returned the first aid kit to its proper place and looked at Tomura. “I am finished,” he stated. “Heh, great,” Tomura replied and leaned over the counter, looking at you.
“Why don’t you be useful and make me a damn cup of coffee?” He replied, but his smile faded when his order was greeted with silence. “Now!” he snapped, slamming his hands against the counter, and making you stagger to your feet.
Your legs remained shaking and felt like they would give out from underneath you at any moment. Regardless, you stumbled to the coffee machine you spotted earlier and cried out when your knees bent, making you desperately clench onto the small table.
You sharply inhaled, not having realized you were holding your breath. You could feel the weight of Tomura and Kurogiri’s stares and your hands trembled as you tried to open the coffee machine to see if there were coffee grounds in it. As you did this, another dark realization came. You captured a villain’s heart.
But not just any villain’s heart, Tomura Shigaraki’s. The one who could turn you into dust at any moment. Instead of having the happy life you envisioned, one where you served customers, lent them your ear, gave advice, and shared happy memories with one another. You were now and forever Tomura’s object of affection.
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