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His fingers twitched, achingly ready to close around Dabi’s neck. The air felt tense and thick, making it hard to concentrate. He had to concentrate, or he’d kill the bastard on the spot.
Shigaraki let out a deep breath. It should’ve calmed him, but it didn’t.
Dabi noticed the small ticks, the grin on his face not faltering. It was a real shame that the League needed him.
“Is there a problem?” Dabi mused, aware that the idea he just explained would not be welcomed by everyone.
Your eyes never left Shigaraki. He was sitting on the couch with his hands clasped together, as if he had to restrain himself from using his quirk. You didn’t interfere, knowing that he wouldn’t want it. He was fierce about his position in the League, and leading them with a strong hand.
Which wasn’t easy, given the behavior of the people in the room.
Shigaraki raised his head.
“Quite a few,” he said with great effort. He left the room.
Dabi’s laugh made Touga chuckle too. You tried not to look too closely at what she was building in the far corner of the room. Her delighted sighs told you enough. She was obsessed with one of the young heroes, and you could only wish him good luck during their next meeting.
You slapped the back of Dabi’s head on your way out. The asshole only laughed, but didn’t challenge you.
The League was currently located in a long abandoned building, the only remainder of an investment gone wrong by some abroad company. It wasn’t uncommon in this part of the city, and didn’t draw anyone’s attention.
You followed the curve of a dusty corridor. The windows on this side were cracked and allowed the early night’s air in. Through the stains you could see the lights of a never-sleeping city, burning with a thousand colors. The light pollution hid the stars from people’s eyes, leaving a bare, filthy sky.
Tomura’s steps were long gone, but you knew where you could find him. He chose one of the rooms farther away from the ones occupied by the other League members, and you were glad about it. The sounds that drifted through the old ventilation were often…disturbing.
You knocked and entered after not hearing an answer. As you guessed, you found Tomura hunched in a chair, his foot tapping in irritation. He didn’t acknowledge you as you approached him, and didn’t stop you from brushing his hand away from the back of his neck. Pink, inflamed lines raised his skin in claw marks. He’d been scratching too hard.
“We need them,” you said. You put your own hand over the scratches soothingly. “The League needs the numbers. We’re on the right path.”
“This path sucks,” Tomura grumbled. “But indeed we’re soon going to finalize the plan. Unless someone decides to go rogue.”
Your fingers drew circles over his neck. Tomura’s head leaned into it a little.
“Dabi won’t do it. Not completely.”
Tomura wasn’t so sure.
You moved closer, pressing your front to him. A sigh escaped him as you leaned to his ear. “We could always give him something small to take care of and be gone for a few days. It wouldn’t hurt him to have something to do.”
Shigaraki closed his eyes as you ran your fingers through his hair. Some of the tension that’d been building up in him was finally easing. Like a snake uncurling, the tension slowly let up.
You placed a gentle kiss against his temple. “What do you think?”
“It’s worth a shot.”