Chapter Text
Tomura’s first instinct was to pretend he had never agreed to this hiking trip. But when every League member left one by one to reluctantly follow Spinner on his usual route, the thought of being alone in the safehouse was enough to spur him into action. He walked briskly to catch up with the group, hyper-aware of every beat of his heart. The doctor had said his condition was more stable now, that he could start to return to his usual activities - though he had quickly amended that “usual activities” included walking, swimming, and no-contact sports, not homicide and mass destruction.
Despite the doctor’s reassurances, Tomura still found himself unable to bring his focus away from his heart, wondering if every slight twinge was psychosomatic or the sign of another impending health scare.
His friends had fought like hell to save him, the least he could do was live a little longer so their efforts weren’t in vain. And… maybe he also wanted to live. Just maybe. It was a decision he thought he’d made once and for all when he had refused to succumb the first time his heart had given out, at the end of that final battle. But he seemed to face the decision every day as he debated whether to muster the energy to get out of bed.
Compress, bringing up the rear, gave him a cheerful wave as he fell in with the group. They started out walking almost in sync, but soon Twice and Toga had moved to the front, lost in an argument about whether Goku or Luffy would win in a fight. Obviously, it’s Goku, Tomura thought. But Twice is allowed to have his wrong opinions.
He tried to match pace with the more energetic walkers, but his muscles ached and burned with the effort, forcing him to slow down, walking beside Spinner. He looked more like his old self, a healthier color having returned to his scales after his most recent molt. He often went without product in his purple hair these days since he didn’t have any appearances to keep up, and his hair was tied back in a casual ponytail. His breath still wheezed every so often, but he stood straight as he walked, showing no hint of lingering pain. At least, none that Tomura could see.
“Nice day for it, at least,” Tomura said, struggling to keep his voice even. There was no way he was starting to get winded this soon into the hike. How pathetic.
“Yeah,” Spinner agreed, and at least he seemed to be struggling slightly, too. “We were supposed to get rain. Guess the weatherman lied. Wouldn’t be the first time.”
“Well, now you jinxed it.”
Spinner playfully nudged him with an elbow. “Since when were you the superstitious type?”
Tomura chuckled. “That’s not even a superstition. It’s a law of the universe.”
“Alright, whatever you say, god of destruction.”
Tomura’s hesitant smile dropped. “I’m nowhere near a god.”
Spinner winced. “Shit, sorry, man. Won’t happen again.”
Tomura shrugged, feigning nonchalance. “Whatever.” Deliberately changing the subject, he said, “Our stealth game is weak as hell. I think we’ve scared off every creature in a 50 mile radius.” When he was out in the woods alone, he would often see birds, squirrels, and rabbits. Sometimes he would stop and watch them, noting how they responded to potential danger, knowing that they could sense it long before he did.
Now, he could see nothing but trees, hear nothing but the snap of dry twigs and the crash of feet through dead leaves. The murmur of overlapping conversations filled the air. The group of six sounded like a group of a dozen with all the noise they were making. There’s no battle, no reason to hide, he reminded himself, but he couldn’t suppress the urge to grit his teeth, the itch that crawled along his neck.
“Not every creature,” Spinner said. “I think I saw a grackle in that dead tree over there. Or was it a starling? I’ve seen starlings before, haven’t found a grackle yet.”
Tomura dragged a hand across his face in mock exasperation. “Et tu, Spinner? You’re joining Hawks’s weird birdwatching cult?”
“Gotta do something to distract from the leg cramps.” He cut himself off as his breathing grew heavier. “Speaking of, gonna shut up for a sec. These hills, man.”
At those words, Tomura realized that they were indeed starting up an incline. It was a modest one, but it still pulled at his Achilles tendons, a reminder of just how out of shape he was. He slowed down as he readjusted his gait. Was this really the same body he had used to race through an entire forest for days on end with Gigantomachia at his heels?
No, he supposed, it wasn’t. Because soon afterward, he had gone to Dr. Garaki’s lab, subjected himself to… whatever the man had done to him.
The forest around him seemed to blur, his body going numb except for a relentless itching that clung to every scar. He dug his nails into his dry skin, desperate to ground himself in any way he could.
The quiet murmur of conversation reached his ears, cutting through the encroaching fog. Compress was talking about a past heist he had pulled off, seemingly to distract Dabi, who was fighting off an asthma attack, leaning heavily on a sturdy branch he must have found along the trail.
“Don’t die on me, Patchwork,” Tomura couldn’t resist saying as he matched pace with them.
“Don’t be a hypocrite, Duster.” Dabi stopped walking and took a few more deep breaths, squaring his shoulders. “Alright, that’s better.” He jabbed an accusatory finger at Compress. “If you get on my case about smoking again-”
Compress held up his hands in a gesture of appeasement. “Who am I to judge? I’m known to light up on occasion, as you are well aware.” He lowered his hands, leaning ever so slightly on his cane as the trio continued walking. “But it is something to think about, and that goes for both of you.”
Dabi grunted, staring resolutely ahead, his makeshift walking stick hitting the ground with more force than strictly necessary.
Tomura remained silent. Smoking had been his vice of choice for a long time, and even though he did it less often now, it only seemed to become more load-bearing after the war. If he didn’t smoke… what else would he do? Scratch? Stare at the ceiling listening to Evanescence? (That was Toga’s thing, and he would not be accused of being a copycat)
“Maybe what we need is a good heist,” Tomura mused, only half-joking.
“Tempting,” Compress said, also only half-joking. Then he slumped his shoulders with a defeated sigh. “But the prison time is not worth it.”
Dabi raised an eyebrow. “Pretty sure Hawks and some other upstart heroes are trying to abolish prison.”
Tomura chuckled. “Let them fuck around and find out. I’m not cleaning up that mess.”
Dabi shrugged. “Spinner’s keen on it. He says there’s a lot better ways to deal with criminals than just locking them in a metal box.”
“I can’t understand half of what Spinner says anymore,” Tomura admitted. “I’m trying, but that’s just… so much reading.”
Dabi chuckled. “Yeah, you got that right. Still, fun to think about.”
Compress used his cane as an impromptu golf club, knocking an egg-shaped rock against a gnarled tree. It ricocheted into the undergrowth with a loud crack. “I’m excited to see how everything shakes out. Either way, the playing field will look completely different. It should be fun.”
Tomura smirked. “Fun is one word for it, I guess.”
“Well,” Compress said with a twirl of his cane before leaning heavily on it, “now that you’re here, do you want to hear the rest of my daring escape from the underwater casino?”
“You know what? Hell yeah.”
As Compress recounted his tale, Tomura noticed that even he was starting to get worn out, relying on his cane and walking with a prominent limp. A few times, he shifted his shoulder uncomfortably, the old injury making itself known. Still, his enthusiasm was not lost as he spoke, making animated gestures to the extent his body allowed him to. Tomura found himself forgetting about his own exhaustion for a few precious minutes.
As the story wound down, the trio fell silent, focused on their own uphill journeys, their heavy breathing the only sound.
Tomura’s heart fluttered. He checked his heart monitor, but the arrhythmia was well within normal range. It was a heart palpitation, nothing more. Still, the brief pause was enough for his other minor complaints to catch up with him. Each step became a deliberate effort, with Compress, Dabi, and the rest of the group receding into the distance until he found himself alone.
Tomura lowered himself onto a nearby log, the soft wood a welcome relief for his aching muscles. He slumped forward, resting his elbows on his knees, his breath hitching when he realized his hands were shaking. Why were they shaking? Sure, he had just had his most intense workout since the final battle, but it wasn’t exactly life or death.
With a resigned sigh, he ran through a few familiar grounding exercises, drilled into him by his doctor, Hawks, and even Dabi. He counted his breaths until they evened out, then took inventory of his surroundings, taking care to use all five senses. When he got to taste, he realized he was dehydrated and sipped slowly on his now-lukewarm water. It tasted slightly of plastic from the cheap bottle, but he was too thirsty to care.
A gentle breeze combed through his hair, drawing his attention to the tangles. He ran his fingers through it with a grimace. He actually liked how his hair looked after he’d started growing it out, but now he realized he had a damn limit. He resolved to cut it after they got back. He’d have to shower anyway; he was drenched in sweat.
The thought of showering, of sweat, brought his attention to his skin. The salt in his sweat was causing his eczema patches to burn, turning them an even angrier shade of red than usual. He realized belatedly that this could be part of the reason he was so itchy. He stared at his hands and forearms as if seeing them for the first time. He could feel his skin, he realized. Was that normal? Did normal people just… feel their body?
Tomura’s breath hitched. He had a breath. He had lungs. He could feel his ribcage expand and contract, feel the cool air pass through his windpipe. His back ached from the strain of walking. His legs burned. His muscles. They were his, right? Whose else would they be? All For One was dead. All the Quirks that had taken up residence in his body were gone. It was just him, so why did his body feel so… unfamiliar, out of sync with his reality?
He opened and closed his hands. There was still the subtle tingle of his Decay Quirk just beneath the pads of his fingers, a sensation he knew well, its familiarity almost a lifeline.
He closed his hands into tight fists. The arm and leg he had broken during his fight with Re-Destro hurt more than the rest of him. Even with all their technology, AFO and Dr. Garaki couldn’t completely erase those scars. He was weirdly… proud. He had earned those scars. He had faced his past and came out the other side. Even if what came after had almost destroyed him, for that moment, Tomura Shigaraki had taken control.
He had always been destined to be All For One’s vessel. That was nothing new. His body had never been his own. But he’d been able to reclaim himself, for one fleeting moment. He could do it again.
But… did he even deserve to? When his Quirk had awakened, it had put him on the path to not just self-destruction but the destruction of the world. His friends and countless others had gotten hurt because of him, died because of him. And it was far from the first time. If he tried to find himself… what would he actually find?
“Tomura?” Compress’s voice echoed off the trees. His limping gait reached Tomura’s ears as the older man drew closer. “Are you okay?”
“Just taking a breather,” Tomura assured him.
Compress studied him with a concerned frown. “Are you continuing or turning back?”
“Continuing, of course. Gotta catch up with the others.”
Compress’s shoulders slumped in disappointment. “That’s a shame. I had hoped to have company on my walk back. I seem to have overestimated my spoons.”
Tomura narrowed his eyes. Compress’s pain and exhaustion were clear, but he seemed way too chipper to be turning back so early. Then again, Tomura knew all too well that just because somebody appeared fine didn’t mean they were.
Either way, he was giving Tomura an out, a way to end the hike early while saving face.
With a smirk, Tomura said, “Well, someone’s gotta keep you out of trouble. I guess the trail will still be here tomorrow.”