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The sun’s setting over the valley turned arena where Shigaraki fights for his life against the rabid Gigantomachia, bathing it in pink. They’re well above it, Spinner and her, Toga, unscathed on a precipice, and so they can barely make out the figures deep below engaged in combat.
They’re catching their breaths, fresh off their twelve-hour shift, drinking greedily – then Spinner pours the rest of the water bottle over his head, after taking off his mask.
Toga’s undone her hair buns and is combing her fingers through the hair to get rid of twigs. She wants a shower, she told him already on the hike up the mountain, but there’s no reason to journey back into town this time – it’s a long trip and they don’t need to resupply again this week, so she’ll just have to deal with it.
“So Shuuichi” Toga says, straightening her legs as they dangle over the edge, “what are you thinking about?”
He’s sitting cross legged – after he sat down here to meditate on today’s battle, she immediately joined him and sat down much too close, all too familiar. That too, “Shuuichi,” the way she calls Twice “Jin” – the way she calls Shigaraki “Tomura.” No, that one always feels a little different.
Or maybe it’s just him reading into things. His eyes are closed as the water drips down across his face.
He knows what she must want to talk about really, but if she doesn’t ask about it directly then like hell he’ll bring it up.
“I’m reflecting on the battle. Compared to last time I was barely able to scratch 'Machia until the end.”
Shigaraki’d noticed too. That’s right, Shigaraki had noticed, had looked at him, well enough to tell those things – when retreating from another attack, he’d taken the time to tell Spinner that Gigantomachia was reading his slashes too much – “don’t just use standard attacks, at least do some thrusting.” Not that Shigaraki has showed any proficiency with a blade himself, but immediately Spinner’s next attack had seemed to pierce skin.
He should’ve figured. It's as aggravating as it’s reassuring – he stands no chance against their leader. Nor with him.
“Hmm,” he can feel Toga looking at him with that scrutinizing stare again. Go on, say it then, he thinks, but she doesn’t. “But I thought after you and Tomura gossiped, you were doing great!”
Tomura. Spinner tastes it. No, he’s Shigaraki.
“Like I said, that was towards the end…” And he’s reflecting on: why did he need Shigaraki to tell him that? And how can Shigaraki possibly have the time and energy to think of not just his own moves, but theirs too?
He opens his eyes and looks down at the forest. From up top it’s so easy to see Gigantomachia’s trajectory by the fallen trees and smashed up rocks – to see where Shigaraki, Twice and Mr. Compress are battling right now, even if he can’t make out what’s actually happening. Is Shigaraki giving them advice too, right now, being player and coach both?
Spinner clicks his tongue. Usually Toga’s chattier than this. If she came to sit down next to him, why isn’t she talking more? Normally, there’s no shutting her up. For this whole month when they’ve been paired up together there’s an endless prattle about girly nonsense like getting herself a winter coat (“Tomura said I could!”), or buying Shigaraki the energy bars with cutest packaging instead of the ones with most grams of protein, or about how attractive Shigaraki is looking lately, apparently, the more bruised up he’s actually getting.
Why she thought he’d want to discuss that with her had made little sense. At the time, it had caught him so off guard, he’d been humiliatingly flustered – that had been the only reason, or so he had told himself all night as he lay restless on his sleeping roll, unable to think of anything else.
That was a few days ago now.
Toga really is being uncharacteristically quiet, like she’s expecting him to be the one to speak about that. Waiting for him to continue.
On their way down the mountain before their latest bout against Gigantomachia, she was blabbering as usual, Tomura this, Tomura that, at least that’s what Spinner heard, and saying: “hey, hey, if Tomura’s the future king, are we future royalty too? I’ll ask him when we see him.”
“Shut up,” he’d barked at her. “Focus on the battle. Shigaraki doesn’t need to be distracted with your nonsense.”
“Why, are you worried about him or something?” she’d teased, in hindsight not too seriously.
“Of course I am!”
It’d slipped out before he’d had a chance to clarify – then the tree right in front of them had been obliterated with one massive fist, and their conversation had been cut short as they were forced to battle.
Spinner spent the whole time stupidly distracted, embarrassed by his provoked admission, making rookie mistakes, even to the degree that Shigaraki noticed and corrected him. And now Toga hasn’t even brought it up - she's just sitting there, chewing her stupid raspberry gum!
He snaps at her:
“Well! Why aren’t you asking about it already?”.
She looks into his eyes as she blows her first bubble. It pops, and she has the innocuous audacity to say:
“Ask about what?”
Even though he scowls, her innocent façade doesn’t falter. She’s a free spirit, he knows that, but has she truly forgotten already? Isn’t his admittance exactly the kind of thing she’d normally jump on and blow way out of proportion?
(Or, more worryingly, get correct?)
“Ask about…” Spinner stares ahead at the dusky skyline. “About the fact that I’m worried about Shigaraki, of course, isn’t it obvious?” He tries to force some anger into his voice, it makes the words come out easier.
Pop.
“Oh yeah.” Toga puts out the gum package in front of Spinner’s face, obstructing his view. “Want one?”
He bats her hand away, glares her way again – “What are you-“
“Mm but like, it was pretty obvious,” she says. “I mean I totally didn’t think you’d like, admit it yet but I’ve known for a while. You can’t hide these things from me, you know, Shuu-i-chi.”
That’s what he was afraid of. Maybe she thinks he’ll lash out, but…
His shoulders sag. It’s suddenly a little chilly, the sun’s set too quickly. Spinner breaks eye contact again and crosses his arms over his chest for warmth.
“… that’s right,” he admits. Ever since he thought so to himself, a few days ago, he realised she’s the only person he can truly tell. “There were samurai like this you know. Japan has a long history of warrior men, the very ideal of masculinity, who preferred to bed other males.” He’s searched the topic extensively online – not just Japan, but the Greeks too, Spartans, men in the military of all times… It makes sense, isn’t it manlier to prefer men to women to begin with?
It explains a lot.
“Anyway! Yes, I’m… I’m- I might be interested in Shigaraki, there, are you happy?!?” It needs to get off his chest before it suffocates him so he speaks hastily, but as clearly as he possibly can – they’re too far away for his voice to travel into the valley, everyone else is busy fighting and Toga, damn her, she’s the one who started this introspection to begin with.
But it isn’t because of her that he worries about Shigaraki, that he always looks at him when they’re in vicinity of each other, that his thoughts keep wandering to consider his ideas, his past, his words, his actions. And even though she said it first, she isn’t the reason why he started thinking that Shigaraki’s hair’s gotten longer and how it suits him, she isn’t why he’s grown comfortable seeing that unmasked face, why he started to like Shigaraki’s little mole, the one below his mouth, his big mouth always quirked into a boyish, charming smile as of late, which has him concerned and relieved at the same time.
But what gives, why isn’t she saying something now – he’s said what she wanted to hear, he’s given her right, so why –
Spinner turns around to his right again and comes face to face with Shigaraki himself, his expression unguarded and somehow stunned – maybe taken aback, touched, confused, but also a little…happy? Spinner swallows, how much of the conversation did he hear? Wait, why is he here to begin with, blowing a bubble, it isn’t time yet, isn’t it six more hours–
Pop.
Why is Spinner so goddamn stupid?
He grits his teeth at the shapeshifter. “Toga, why the hell would you waste his blood for a prank like this?”
“Toga?” But dammit, that is Shigaraki’s voice. Chewing gum. Toga seems to realise belatedly that it breaks character, so she spits the gum out over the precipice. Also her body language isn’t perfect, dangling his long legs over the side like that, but she adjusts it, pulling them up and then getting into a street punk crouch. “This isn’t a prank, Shuuich- Spinner.”
How pathetic it is to think that even though this isn’t him, just hearing Shigaraki’s raspy, dreary voice say his first name makes Spinner shudder – he can only hope she doesn’t notice.
He grabs her by the collar of Shigaraki’s long coat, tugging her down, “Cut this out,” he says, meeting Shigaraki’s red eyes, staring directly at him. They’re so close – no, they aren’t, Shigaraki’s down there fighting alongside Mr. Compress and Twice.
“Like I said…” Shiga-Toga groans, “This isn’t a prank. It’s practice.” She knocks away his hands when his grip falters, then rises to Shigaraki’s full, slightly hunched over height, which always seems so much taller than he really is, even when slouching.
Spinners scrambles to his feet too, turned towards her, puffing out his chest.
“Practice?” he demands.
“Yeah. You wanna tell me how you feel, right?”
“I already told you!”
“Not me,” says Toga, using the feminine pronoun with Shigaraki’s voice, then switches to the masculine again: “but me.”
Spinner startles. “Hah!” As if. Telling Shigaraki, what good would that do? He knows already, there’s no point, Shigaraki doesn’t feel the same. Every living breathing thing annoys him to no end, that’s what he said, and sure his allies might be exceptions in some ways, and they might become royalty with him, but that doesn’t mean he’d ever feel anything more… at least, not towards Spinner.
It might be different with someone like Toga, which is probably why she doesn’t understand that. Isn’t Shigaraki already a bit lenient with her? Sure, go ahead and spend our budget on a duffle coat, Toga. Sure, I won’t destroy what you like, Toga. Sure, you can be royalty too, Toga. Not to mention, her quirk’s so useful, and he doesn’t have to give her pointers midbattle. On top of all that, she’s a girl, a pretty one even, not an ugly lizard man like him.
“What’s so funny?” Shigaraki’s voice demands, as Spinner laughs at the absurdity of what she’s suggesting.
“That you think I could just, what, confess? To Shigaraki?”
Shigaraki’s face pouts, in a disturbingly distinct Toga fashion, before she catches herself and schools it back into a more characteristic look of confusion.
“Huh? And why wouldn’t you?”
Spinner laughs, probably sounding a bit deranged, but it’s just so fucking ridiculous. This pretty girl who has no idea how the world works for people who don’t fit into the realms of being normal!
He can only shake his head at how clueless she is.
“No, really,” she says – and it’s her voice now. Shigaraki’s essence and face drips off her but she leaves the clothes – the coat is baggy on her, but the shirt beneath it is strained tight around her chest. “Why wouldn’t you?”
He doesn’t want to be self-deprecating but if she truly doesn’t get it, then he’ll do her a favour and teach her how cruel this world is.
“Do you see my scales, woman? Have you ever felt what a lizard feels like – don’t!” he has to smack away her hand when she immediately goes to pet his forearm. “See! I say lizard and you immediately try to touch me. Even if we were to suppose that Shigaraki would be interested in –“ no, he can’t just say dating, that’d be absurd. He grimaces, “- romance. Even if he didn’t want to destroy the whole world and everyone in it – except for us and what we like of course –“ she seems to believe that anyway, “and even if we suppose he’d be interested in men… it’d be the height of delusion to assume he’d be interested in someone like me.”
To his tirade, Toga just cocks her head to the side.
“Is that so?”
“Of course it is!”
“You really think our Tomura would care about things like that?”
Spinner digs his claws into his scaly palms. She has a point – no, she’s a cruel, pretty girl peddling lies about how no one really cares about appearances, the way everyone online likes to do, before they meet you in real life.
And Shigaraki’s…
“Everyone cares about things like that,” he tells her.
“Things like what?”
She’s so obtuse. He yells:
“Normal things!”
At last, she recoils. Not much, not in a satisfactory way or anything, just enough – she looks almost as if he slapped her, taking half a step back.
Her face is filled with pity towards him.
“Shuuichi, aren’t you normal?”
“Of course n-“
“Don’t you wanna be happy? Don’t you wanna be with the person you love? Don’t you want to be close to him? Isn’t that totally normal?”
She’s shorter than him, but when she walks closer, he backs up. She pursues.
“You know what I think, Shuuichi? Normal’s relative. It’s being true to you. I think everyone should be true to themselves, wouldn’t it, like be much easier to live that way? Why does someone else’s normal matter more than yours?
“Like Tomura… Doesn’t he seem so much happier lately, ever since we met with Dr. Ujiko? Because he figured out how to live true to him… That’s how I feel with the League, and Jin does too. This is where we can all be normal just the way we are. It was the same for Magne too, right?”
Yeah. That’s what she told Spinner, when he asked why she’d joined. She didn’t care about Stain, and though that upset him at the start, the shallowness of her motivation – “this is where I am free to be who I am,” sounded somewhat aspirational too. He realised he was a little jealous of that, ever since it became clear that Stain was a thing of the past for the other League members – and yet they’d all found personal reasons to stay.
Their own normal.
He comes to a stop when his heel meets the edge of the precipice. Toga stops advancing when they’re less than two decimetres apart. He watches her pick up a vial of blood from her belt and lick just a droplet – then her form changes once more to assume Shigaraki’s taller stature.
When this Shigaraki takes a step closer Spinner contemplates leaping over the edge, but Toga uses Shigaraki’s large hand to grab his scarf and keep him from falling. She even lifts the middle finger in character.
“Well, Spinner,” she says with Shigaraki’s voice. “Do you seriously think I give a crap about what you look like?”
He swallows. Toga tugs his scarf – but he puts out his hands against Shigaraki’s collarbone to force some distance. Logically, there’s no reason to be flustered – this isn’t him, this is Toga, making fun of him (not really, though). But he can feel Shigaraki’s skinny frame and see those eyes meet his so intently, so close to him, nonetheless – his heart can’t differentiate between them.
“It’s not just that,” he says, pathetically quiet.
“Huh? So what, you seriously think I don’t deserve affection?”
“What?”
“You think I would be upset to know someone cares about me? That there’s someone who’s worried about me?”
“What, no, that’s not it at all,” Spinner says, freeing himself from Shigaraki’s grip and sidestepping him, putting some distance between them. “It’s not about you, it’s-“
“I knew it,” Shigaraki says, pointing at him accusingly. “You’re selfish. You know that your love wouldn’t hurt me, you just want to make sure that you’re not hurt either. Protecting your own feelings matter more than making me happy, so much for your love, huh.”
That’s ridiculous. That’s not the problem at all! There’s no guarantee Spinner could make him happy, and in that case, wouldn’t all of this be pointless to say in the first place? Why take that risk?
“Also,” Shigaraki continues. “You sure don’t think highly of me, do you? Such a pain in the ass, you seriously think I’d, what, call you ugly? Say I’m not into lizards? Like I’m Dabi or some shit, and not a guy you’d actually fall in love with?”
No, Shigaraki wouldn’t say that, that’s true, but it might… feel like that. Maybe.
Shigaraki wouldn’t say that, and he isn’t saying any of this either. The voice arguing against him breaks midsentence from haughty and low to high-pitched and girly, and Toga appears before him once more.
She puts a small, dainty hand on his cheek, and he lets her. He’s dizzy and her cold palm helps cool him down.
“Spinner,” she says, calmly, like she’s still roleplaying him. “What are you really thinking about?”
It’s midnight when the three fighters return to camp. Spinner is sitting by the precipice again, though he’s eaten dinner and napped for a while since dusk. He hears Toga sleepily welcome the others by the campfire, and Twice immediately swarm her with ideas and thoughts he’s had since fighting, and Mr. Compress makes jovial conversation with them too.
Spinner’s a bit too far away to make out the specifics, just the ebbs of the conversation, not the flows, and so he tunes it out to focus on the pitch-black horizon. It’s good for meditation.
He sits there alone for a while, ignoring the rest of them as they banter, keeping an eye out for any signs of trouble, until he hears familiar, zombie-like footsteps approaching from behind. It could be Toga, he thinks, even as Shigaraki’s form slumps down characteristically to the left of him, one leg hanging over the edge, the other pulled up at a painful angle towards his chest.
There isn’t a lot of light, even as the stars are bright so far from civilisation, and the camp fire is slightly down the slope from where they sit, so Spinner can’t make out his expression if he tries. All things considered, that might be for the best.
“Toga said you wanted to talk,” Shigaraki explains, exasperated or merely exhausted. He scratches his hair – it’s dirty, greasy, sticking together in thick tresses.
Spinner still wants to touch it.
“I don’t,” he says. Even though he can’t quite see it, he can tell Shigaraki’s scowling. He takes a deep breath. “But that’s no reason why I shouldn’t.”
“Huh?”
Spinner pauses, listens to the background noise. When he hears Toga’s faint giggling, he should be able to relax – instead, it makes him swallow.
Man up, he tells himself, as he feels his conviction falter. Because he knows that Shigaraki is the one who can make him firm.
“Listen up,” he says, catching Shigaraki’s eyes before glancing back towards the darkness. It helps to think that no matter what, at least Shigaraki isn’t the one with anything to lose. They have a little less than three hours together, Shigaraki has his heart, and Spinner, his undivided attention.
There can be no regrets. He takes the leap.
“You should know... I’m in love with you.”