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Tomura knew what he looked like under all those clothes.He knew where every scar came from and how much time it took for it to heal.And boy did he have a bunch of them.Ranging from small cigarette burns to large gashes.From stab wounds to places where a shard of a broken glass bottle had cut him.From the many scars on his neck to the ones on his arms.They were all over him,from head to toe.And he hatetd them all.He hated them because they were the constant reminder of a screw up,of a failed job,a word too much,of his fucked up head.They were there and every time he looked at them he was reminded of all the bad parts of his life,the parts that turned him into a villian and the memories that came with and will never leave him.Everytime he looked into the mirror,took a bath or went to sleep on a sumer night he saw them.He hated how they made his skin uneven at places,how a new wound will bleed and make a mess,how it would itch every time he bandaged it,how it would sting when he went to take a shower.He hated how careful he had to be as to not disturb the healing process,despite already having a quirk to worry about.But most of all he knew that every healing wound will add yet another scar to his collection and that thought disgusted him as much as it anoyed him.
For a while he was stuck with that mentality,always being scold by his sensei for being too careless for his own good.But then Kurogiri came along and he...well he had a different say in the matter.He never let Tomura bandage his wounds on his own,he never raised his hand at Shigaraki and always kept his voice leveled.The mist man never got mad,only annoyed, when he came to the bar with blood trickling down his face or neck.He would silently sit Tomura down and take care of him.It was new and strange in the begining but it was nice for someone to not put you down when you are alredy on the ground.
And then the rest of the league came along,and their rection was something he couldn't have predicted.
They were just misfits that wanted a place to feel somewhat safe in.These 'freaks',as society would call them,all came one by one and Tomura was reluctant to meet them.But can you blame him?Last time he let someone in the bar with the intention of expanding the league Stain stabbed him,adding yet another scar and an everlasting dull ache in his shoulders.But this worked out remarkably well.Sure they weren't perfect,some were more unhinged than him,but it was a start.And even from the begining they didn't pay much attention to the red marks on his neck,they didn't mention the bandages that were covering his arms.Even when he wasn't wearing 'father' pretty much no one commented on the two main scars that ran across his face.That list of course excludes Dabi,but he was a brat so Shigaraki didn't take his comments to heart.Besides he wasn't the one to talk.However even if overtime he got closer with all of them,no one knew the things he was hiding under the black hoodies,under the bandages.No one knew the extend of his wounds and the only information they got was 'i got into a fight' or 'we ran into some heroes that were quick to act'.Nothing more.
Well all things must come to an end at some point,right?
It wasn't a screwed up mission,they weren't attacking UA or anything,no.Shigaraki was just out to grab some food and see if the game he wanted was being sold anywhere,when he ran into someone who recognized him.A hero, who was too quick for Tomura to avoid in time.He managed to get away with only a couple of bruises and with three crystals sticking out of his back,the one thing he couldn't dodge in time.It was a good thing he didn't quite feel the full extend of his wounds,that will without doubt need stitching,otherwise he wouldn't have made it back to the others.
He walked into the worndown house they were curently staying at,as if nothing had hapened.Toga and Dabi were the only two people there,as usuall,but that was actually a good thing.Tomura walked to Toga and asked,with the most casual voice, if she can close a wound.
"I can try.Why?'' That was good enough.
Tomura went to grab some bandages and something to clean the wond with,as well as some sewing supplies that he kept just for situations like this.The moment he turned around he heard a gasp that almost made him chuckle with amusment.He calmly came back with the things in hand and sat on the floor,infront of the couch,so Toga could be more comfortable.She sat behind him while he was trying to figure out if he could save the hodie or not.Deciding that,no he can't, he simply touched it and his quirk did the rest.The feeling that came with being exposed like that wasn't embarrassment but more like annoyance.Why you ask?Because Tomura knew what he looked like.He knew that all of the scars collected over his life were now there for the other two to see.He knew that he still had one of his arms completely wraped in a somewhat bloody bandage.And most of all,he knew that he was bound to be asked questions.
He stayed as still as possible while Toga did her best to get the crystals out of him without causing too much pain to her boss.Little did she know that even if she were to pull them out with brute force Tomura would probbaly only feel a fraction of it.She took one out,cleaned the blood and stitched it up,best as she can,then she would move to the next one.The tird one was where she had some problems.It was right between his shoulder blades and it was the most troublesome out of the bunch,because every time Tomura moved it moved with him and that wasn't the best feeling in the world.
''Let me see.''came from Dabi,who for the most part had been just staring at Tomura."Can I?''
Tomura only gave a nod,not really carring at this point.Dabi walked over and with some planing with Toga they managed to pull the damn thing out of him and finish up with the stitching.Once done he went to stand up,only to be pulled back down by a warm hand.
''Where are you going?Sit your ass down we have to dress those wonds.''
''I can do it myself.''
Already unraveling the bangades and waiting, Dabi added:''Sure you can.Sit down.''
He did as he was told,not having the energy to deal with Dabi's nonsence.
-
After that little misshap the two in question looked at him a little difrently.Not with pitty or amusement but with something different,something he couldn't understand even if he tried.They didn't say anything,didn't ask questions, besides if he was healing OK,which Tomura was grateful for.What he was also grateful for was that they didn't tease him about anything they saw.Toga didn't go full psycho at the sight of blood and Dabi never opened his mouth to mock him.The others found out one by one about the accident but didn't say anything too,which while strange,was good.Tomura didn't feel the burning shame of asking for help,he didn't feel obligated to explain himself and to brace for some sort of backlash.He felt...safe.He was safe.
*
As time went on he continued to gather more and more scars.From missions,from runing into partoling heroes,from having a bad mental day.He got them from everything and everyone imaginable.There were some burns thrown in the mix from a certain black haired individual.But it stopped mattering to Tomura,for better or worse.
As time went on he found out that his comrades actually respected him more after seeing his damaged body.And how he ignored it just to press forward with his goal.Toga found it fascinating that Tomura managed to get such variety of wounds throughout his life,given his age, and was quite happy to stich him up when he needed it.Jin was happy,relieved even,to find out that he wasn't the only one in the league with some kind of large scars.Spinner admired him for not even flinching when Stain stabed him way back when.Mr.Compress was rather worried about his physycal health but,just like Kurogiri, he didn't push to hard.Dabi...well Dabi had some mixed emotions.While he aslo worried about Tomura not caring about blood loss,he found his pain tolarance rather impresive.And when,against all odds,they got a little closer and would just lay in bed at night Dabi would express interest in hearing the stories behind each one.He would trace them,drawing an invisible patterns from cigarette burn to cigarette burn.He would count the littlle cuts along his arms,would trace the places where rough stitches left a mark on his skin.He would gently rub the places that ached and Tomura, while reluctant, would tell him.And it felt good.It felt good to let go of some memories and finally put them to rest.It felt good to know that he was allowed to make mistakes, just like every human being.
As time went on Tomura came to accept his scars as something good.He slowly started to see them as a screw up,yes,but a screw up that he had learned from.He saw them as a reminder of where he was and where he is now.With a little help he started to see them as something not so ugly,but rather as something he should be proud of.Proud for surviving.Tomura knew what he looked like and he,while slowly,was starting to not mind his appearance as much.