Work Text:
Shigaraki bolted out of the classroom as soon as the professor uttered the words ‘dismissed’. His nose was buried in his sketchbook, needing to sketch out his idea as soon as possible. He didn’t want to lose the momentum. If he just kept it up until he got to his dorm room he was sure he’d have the perfect replica of the image he was envisioning. As his pencil scraped across the paper eagerly, he dodged person after person in the halls, reliant on his peripheral vision. He refused to take his eyes off the paper. He was almost out of the building when he felt someone grab the back of his backpack and yank him backwards. His feet lifted off the ground and he went flying, landing hard on his ass. By some miracle, he still had his notebook perfectly clenched between only four fingers. His pinky had not accidentally grazed the bound paper that contained his favorite drawings. He was almost too busy looking down at his hand in disbelief to realize that Bakugou was coming at him. The blonde balled up the front of Shigaraki’s shirt and lifted him off the ground. Tomura couldn’t tell if that was a testament to how strong Bakugou was or how spindly Tomura was. Without time to come up with an answer, Bakugou shoved Shigaraki against the wall behind him. At the impact, his sketchbook slipped from his fingers and came tumbling to the ground. One of Bakugou’s friends picked it up and showed it to the blonde.
“Oh please, Shigaraki. You don’t have to make this so easy for me. Look at you, drawing big tits on gorgeous women to fulfill your needs. You poor fucking virgin. And what’s this? Oh geez, Shigaraki, that sure does look like my sister. It better not fucking be my sister you fucking sissy. I’ll kill you where you stand,” Bakugou growled.
Nails dug into his skin, streaks of red forming as his hand moved across his neck wildly, impulsively. His other hand joined in, anxiously scratching as he gasped for air. His eyes darted from left to right, desperate to find a way out of the situation. Stop. He just wanted it to stop. If only it would stop.
“Hey, hey. Are you okay?” There was that warm scent of vanilla again. Immediately he knew. He looked up at her, fingers still working away at his dry skin. She reached out gently, grabbing his wrists and pulling them away from his neck slowly. He looked up at her with wide, fearful eyes.
“Shigaraki, you’re bleeding,” she pleaded, careful not to touch anything past his palms. She remembered his name? His heart thrummed in his chest as he looked at her, his previous anxiety mixing with the current safety she was extending him.
“I do that sometimes,” he clumsily responded, the words tumbling out in a mumble. Her hand began to slide down his wrist, pinky finger making contact with his palm. Shigaraki quickly balled up his hand, wrenching it away from her in panic.
“I’m sorry I––”
“No! No it’s––my hand is bloody. I don’t want to…” he trailed off, shaking his head and holding his arms against his chest. Of course blood was the least of his worries.
“Oh come the fuck on, you’re not telling me you’re protecting this nerd,” Bakugou spat, snapping Shigaraki out of his trance. She glared at her brother, taking Shigaraki’s wrist once more. His face heated at the touch, but no one had their eyes on him.
“You don’t have to be such a dick, you know?” she challenged.
“He’s drawing pictures of you in his little notebook! Did you know that? It’s fucking weird!” Bakugou countered, turning then to Tomura. Before the blue-haired male even realized anything, Bakugou was hurling a wad of saliva at him. The spit hit him in the chest and Tomura nearly gagged. He’d never considered killing anyone with his quirk on purpose up until this moment. His head only cleared when she spoke up.
“You’re fucking disgusting. What the fuck is wrong with you?” she screeched, tugging Tomura away as she stormed off. Shigaraki had no idea where they were headed. She certainly didn’t know where his dorm was, and even if by some magic she did, they were headed in the complete opposite direction. In a flash they were off campus. Tomura might’ve questioned it if it were anyone else. Not her. Next thing he knew, she was unlocking the door to a beautiful apartment. Tomura’s mind began to race. There was no way in hell he was about to step foot into the place she lived. He hesitated, worried maybe she wouldn’t want his out-of-place figure in her pristine living room. He refused to step foot into her home until she gave him the explicit permission.
“Well what are you waiting for silly? What, you a vampire? If so, then you are invited in. While you’re at it, please god turn me into a vampire,” she giggled. God that laugh was like music to his ears. He stepped in, shaking his head.
“I apologize, but I am not a vampire and cannot fulfill your desires,” he laughed.
“Rats!” she exclaimed, feigning disappointment. He flushed slightly. She was so cool. She took his wrist once more and led him to her bathroom calmly. She gestured for him to sit atop the toilet seat and drew him a bath.
“O-Oh you don’t have to––”
“I want to.” Her voice was so soft. So soothing. He wanted nothing more than to let her do whatever she pleased. He shut right up and watched as she tested the water to make sure it wasn’t too hot. He hadn’t felt this cared for in––well, ever. She shut the water off and walked away. He took this as a cue to do the rest on his own. He began to strip, tossing his clothes into a pile next to the tub and settling into the bath. He drew his legs against his chest and allowed the heat of the bath to cloud his mind. He liked that the water was just a bit too hot. It made him feel far away. Maybe that’s why he allowed himself to cry. Tears rolled down his cheeks, splashing into the heat of the bath. His body shook with silent sobs as he sat there.
“I tried to find something you could fit into––” came her voice and he looked up in panic. “Holy fuck! I’m so sorry! Oh my god I-I… I should’ve said something I’m––”
Her expression of panic turned into one of pity. He quickly swiped at his eyes, getting rid of any evidence he’d been crying. Of course his efforts were futile. She carefully placed the towel and t-shirt she’d been holding onto the counter. She moved over to him carefully, settling next to him on the other side of the bathtub. She reached over and picked up a cloth from beside him, dunking it into the water before adding soap to it. She soundlessly pressed the cloth to the back of his neck, ever so gently soaping away the dried blood. The touch was so delicate and careful. Tomura couldn’t stop the tears that streamed down his face continuously. She didn’t comment on it, simply using the cloth to clean him of the day he’d just had.
“Why aren’t you on his side? Your brother’s, I mean…” Tomura’s tears had dried and he was deciding to break a long-standing silence.
“Why would I be on his side? He’s mean,” she asked, brows furrowed.
“Sure, but he’s your brother,” he shrugged. She let the cloth fall from her hands, slipping into the bath. Her hand moved up to his face and his breath caught in his throat. She took his cheek and guided it so he was looking at her.
“Shigaraki, I believe in found family. Real family means nothing to me if they’re awful people,” she shrugged.
“What's… found family?” he asked shyly.
“Chosen family. People you meet who are just so undeniably important to you that you’d do anything for them. People who feel like what you believe family is supposed to feel like,” she explained. He reached up to the arm that held his cheek, wrapping all but one finger around her wrist.
“Hey?”
“Mm?”
“Could you please call me Tomura?” The smile that followed his words was one of the most beautiful one’s he’d seen in all of his lifetime. It was contagious too. Even with his eyes red and puffy from crying, he couldn’t fight the smile that formed on his lips.
“Tomura. It’s pretty,” she complimented.
“You’re pretty,” he blurted stupidly. She let out a melodic laugh and he flushed a bright pink.
“I’m glad you think so, Tomura,” she spoke, pinching his cheek playfully before letting her hand drop. She gestured to the items she’d left on the countertop.
“As I was saying before, all I have are some old band t-shirts from my concert days. I hope they’re okay. They’re unisex, so the one I left you should fit. I’ll be outside if you need anything, but take your time okay?” she tucked his hair behind his ear with a smile before getting up and exiting the bathroom. He smiled after her, resting his cheek on his knees.
