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Something in Oboro’s gut twists when he sets a box down in his new home, pausing momentarily to look outside. Sure enough, the sky’s turning an interesting shade of gray, and he reaches for the umbrella that sits propped against the open door. “Gonna rain,” he absentmindedly murmurs, heading outside to snap it open.
Oboro’s new home overlooks part of the coast, where waves crash and recede near various beaches and cliff sides. There’s even a lighthouse in the distance, yellow light orbiting in the late afternoon.
It’s perfect.
He wanted a fresh start from the city and all its lights, constantly glowing and always keeping him busy. The urban sprawl was far too much for Oboro, so he decided to move to a relatively sleepy town with a population less than two thousand.
It’s certainly something new, he thinks to himself as the clouds start pouring down rain. The people of this town gave him curious looks when he moved in, not used to a newcomer in their midst, and he responded by waving with a bright smile. He knows he’s different, and it’s actually nice to not blend in for once.
He takes the rain as an opportunity to go into town; what better way to see who was used to the rain and whether or not this was a common occurrence? He gathers his keys, wallet, makes sure his new home is locked, and heads on down the road.
Luckily for him, his umbrella does its job well and it’s only a few minutes before Oboro enters a café, shaking off the water droplets before greeting the barista with a smile. “Hey there!” He says, not noticing the way she raises her eyebrows at him. “I’m new here and I wanted to ask if—”
“Oh honey,” the barista interrupts, a twinkle in her dark blue eyes, “we all know you’re new here. It’s not often we get a pretty face in our town! What’s your name, gorgeous? I’m Kayama Nemuri, but you can call me by my given name.”
“That’s very nice of you, Nemuri.” Oboro grins as he takes in her curved smile and apron that she manages to look fantastic in. “My name’s Shirakumo Oboro! What do you recommend, then? Everything looks really good and I’m not sure what to pick.”
As Nemuri rattles off a list and her personal picks, Oboro feels something brush against his leg. His head snaps down and immediately gasps upon seeing a striped ginger cat look back at him, meowing softly. “Aren’t you a cutie pie?” Oboro coos, reaching down to pick the cat up. The cat smacks its head into his arm and starts purring up a storm, tail curling around Oboro’s hand.
“Sushi’s always been a great judge of character, and he’s decided that he likes you, which is good enough for me!” Nemuri laughs, gently taking Sushi away. “Hey, Shouta, Hizashi! Get over here! We’ve got a new person in town!”
Oboro looks on over at a table where two guys are sitting, watching their whole exchange. At Nemuri’s call, the blond that’s watching him with a smile leaps to his feet and hurries on over, sticking his hand out for a handshake. “It’s nice to meet you!” He says cheerfully. “I’m Yamada Hizashi, and this is my best friend Aizawa Shouta!” Behind him, Shouta manages a tiny wave and tips his coffee cup back to chug. “What brings you here to our town? People usually drive through without another word, y’know.”
Oboro eagerly takes the hand and shakes it, surprised and grateful at how kind these people already were. “I wanted something new that allowed me to be free. The city didn’t give me that, and now I’m here!” There’s also another personal reason, but Oboro has decided that he’ll wait before expanding on it.
“I can definitely feel that,” Hizashi laughs, green eyes crinkling at the corners. “Nemuri and I LOVE to party but too much of it is super stressful! That’s why we go about twice a month, you’re welcome to join us if you’d like. What plans do you have here? Any ideas?”
“I’ve always wanted to have a bonfire on the beach,” Oboro confesses, and there’s a gleam in Hizashi’s eyes that makes him feel genuinely excited. Shouta snorts at his expression and Nemuri giggles. “We can definitely plan that, then. Welcome to your new home!”
Oboro looks around, at Sushi in Nemuri’s arms, Hizashi’s bright smile and Shouta’s watchful gaze from their table, and takes a shuddering sigh of relief, relaxing for the first time in hours.
Oboro settles into his new role with a gentle ease that surprises even himself.
“Is it true that you can kinda predict the weather?” Nemuri asks one day, spraying whipped cream on a frappe. She douses it in chocolate sprinkles before sliding it over to Shouta, who takes it without a word and starts drinking from it, getting a white mustache on his face.
Oboro tries not to laugh from where he’s looking out the window, glancing at the sky. “I guess? It’s more of a strong feeling, if I had to describe it. Feels like a rumble in my gut and if I go with my first instinct, I’m usually right! Like it’s definitely going to rain today, so I brought my umbrella.”
Nemuri looks out the window to where the sun’s shining brightly through the clouds. She turns back to him with a mildly amused look on her face. “Are you sure about that? I think your prediction skills might be failing you!”
Oboro grins and looks over at Shouta, who’s watching him with a gentle blink. After a few moments, Shouta exhales and waves him over with a flick of his hand. “Hey,” he says, managing a smile when Oboro towers over him. “I know it’s your first month here, but Hizashi’s busy at the radio station right now and asked to invite you to our weekly lighthouse hangouts. We go stargazing and take a breather from life for a few hours. Would you want to come?”
“OOH, yes!” Nemuri hustles over. “We’d love to have you come with us! You seem like a really cool dude, and you could let us know if the weather’s going to be bad!”
“That’s not the only reason, we swear.” Shouta hurriedly replies. “You’re our friend, and not someone we can use, Nemuri! Just like we don’t use you for drinks and Sushi. Hizashi’s whole friendship thing has apparently decided to rub off on me and you’re not as bad as everyone else in this town.”
“That’s the nicest thing anyone’s ever told me,” Oboro jokes, and flashes them a thumbs up. “I’d love to go! When should I be ready? I’m gonna assume late afternoon, or early evening?”
“Yeah, around then would be good! We’ll come pick you up at that time.” Nemuri waves him off as Oboro heads out. “Hizashi gets off his shift relatively late, so he’s gotta be sure that the radio will be looked after until the morning when he goes back on duty.”
“See you then! And I was serious about the rain, so be careful.” Oboro points at them before closing the door behind him and heading off. The town’s small enough that he can safely walk anywhere, which is always nice, but since some of them head into the city, Nemuri and Hizashi made sure to own cars that could take them anywhere.
His walk takes him to the beach that sits outside his home and he heads on down to the sand to take off his shoes. He’s secretly relieved that it isn’t as warm as other beaches; the sand is nice and cool against his feet, and the waves are cold when they flow up to his ankles.
Oboro squints to look out over the horizon. There’s dark clouds approaching, bringing the promise of thunder and lightning, and he smiles at the familiar feeling in his gut. He’s pretty sure Nemuri will be alright, but he can’t wait to hear how he was right again.
These three are his first friends that he’s managed to keep in a while. Oboro knows he’s got a cloud motif going on, especially with his fluffy light blue hair that has a tendency to curl, and he’s known to be fairly cheerful and against some figures of authority, but it’s been a few months since he’s actually had the time to introduce himself and get a group of friends that want him.
Nemuri is bright and full of confidence with the way that she brings everyone into her orbit. She’s always there if he needs someone to talk to, and she knows when to press buttons and when to back off. She also uses Sushi as a threat, which actually works.
Hizashi is loud and full of life, making everyone around him smile and listen when he talks. Oboro thought he was a social person, but these two knocked it out of the park for him. It’s...pretty impressive, actually. They keep him constantly on the go, regardless of how big or small the adventure is, and Oboro is grateful for it all the same.
Shouta is an introvert and Oboro loves him all the same for it. He primarily hangs out in the background and is widely seen as the voice of reason for their group, which is pretty damn accurate. He’s also Sushi’s official godfather (a title given by Nemuri) and Oboro can see why; a lot of stray cats around the town tend to flock towards him with a gentle meow and purring so hard that anyone can hear it.
With these three by his side, Oboro feels like he can do anything.
The thing is, even with the chance at a new life, Oboro feels like he’s suffocating.
There’s a reason he primarily prefers to be outside in the open air inside of cramped indoors, stuck behind a bar and being paid to listen and give advice as best he can. It comes and goes in flickers, uncomfortable memories plaguing his nightmares and twisting his constant smile into a grimace.
Maybe they wouldn’t come after him, but Oboro was the best they had. He did his job and he did it damn well. Even then, with all the defensive moves he was taught, fear still resides in his chest no matter what. He avoids his second name with desperate attempts to ignore it, and forces himself to focus on the present.
His past catches up to him when Oboro decides to stop by Nemuri’s café after he’d stopped by the lighthouse to drop off some food to Shouta, who was taking a nap at the very top and wanted some rest.
It’s quick; too quick, if he’s being honest. One minute he’s walking in with a cat toy for Sushi, excited and ready to go, and then there’s a knife to his throat. “Well, look what the cat dragged in!” A feminine voice purrs, pressing the knife deeper. Oboro’s breath catches as his eyes widen, slowly looking to his left.
Oh, he knows that voice. He used to feed her juice packs when she was a teenager, made sure she was alive for another day, and he always made her wash the blood out of her clothes. Her blonde buns are still messy, and her golden eyes are still sharp as ever, but her smile is soured, curled up at the edges.
“Toga,” Oboro rasps, making sure she’s in his line of sight. “You really shouldn’t be here.”
“We couldn’t let our favorite bartender leave! I wanted you to serve me my first drink on my 21st birthday, Kurogiri.” Toga pouts, making sure the tip of her knife points directly into his trachea. She looks more mature, Oboro will give her that, but at the mention of his old name, he flinches and gets blood drawn.
“Don’t call me that,” Oboro spits, starting to slightly panic at feeling the trail down his neck. “My name is Shirakumo Oboro. I currently live in this beautiful town by the oceanside, and I’ve never felt more at home here. I have friends who care about me and I care about them too. Please leave me alone, I never wanted to be a part of that life! I did it to stay alive and now I’m out of there. Go back to the League, Toga. My home is here now.”
“But you were our family,” Toga snaps, looking annoyed as she takes a step back. “You helped raise me and Shigaraki and Dabi after our families abandoned us! YOU abandoned us! You were supposed to be there for us, and you LEFT!”
“I HAD TO!” Oboro yells, pushing her further back. He backs up because he knows her style of fighting, and any ground between them is crucial and necessary. He’d trained a while back in case she ever got sick of him.
Sure enough, she lunges for Oboro, still heartbroken, and Oboro immediately grabs her wrist and twists it around, turning the knife away from him. Toga gasps as she gets yanked to the side, grip tightening on the knife. “Do you really hate us that much?” Toga whispers, tears starting to form in her eyes. “Are you so willing to throw your entire life away for this shitty town? For people who probably don’t even care about you?”
“They do care about me!” Oboro shouts, starting to shove back with his grip around her wrist. His calm demeanor is long gone; left behind is a man who’s finally fighting for the will to live. “I made friends out of good memories, not fear! Himiko Toga, let me GO!”
Before any of them can do anything, a long rope comes flying in and wraps itself around Toga’s free hand. Toga shrieks as the rope tightens and rips her away from Oboro, who gasps at the freedom and immediately cups his throat to stop the slight bleeding.
Aizawa Shouta stands in the doorway of Nemuri’s café, eyes narrowed and looking incredibly pissed off. “You left your thermos, Oboro.” He says, one hand holding onto the long rope. “I figured I’d return it in person and I’m glad I did.”
“Shouta,” Oboro whispers, tears filling his eyes. He never wanted them to find out about this and it’s quite clear by the grief in his expression. “I just...fuck, I’m so sorry. I should’ve told you guys earlier the real reason why I moved here—”
“It’s not important,” Shouta interrupts. Toga wrenches her wrist out of the rope and glares murderously at Shouta, who only readies the rope in his hands. “You’re making up for it and you’re our friend. You also take the time to remind us about the weather and ensure that we’re safe and we’ve eaten that day. Not a lot of other people would’ve put in the effort.”
“I care about all of you,” Oboro immediately replies, smiling weakly. “Best decision of my life.”
“SHUT UP!” Toga spits, switching her knife from her hand to the other. She angles it in a way that Oboro knows would stab him directly in the stomach. “I don’t want to hear about your stupid found family arc! That was OURS! You took care of all of us! You just wanna abandon us like everyone else!”
“I was employed to do it!” Oboro shouts, standing his ground. “I was paid by the boss to work behind the bar and learn secrets when I was still in college, and when he decided to bring back some broken, shattered kids from the shitty foster system, I was told to watch over you guys and raise you as best I could! I might’ve been your older brother, but he only wanted me to raise you so you could commit crimes for him! I didn’t want to do it anymore!”
Toga wipes her face, smearing blood and tears over her cheeks. Shouta’s eyes flicker behind the counter of the café and back again. “You should’ve stayed for us,” Toga snarls, hands starting to shake. “If we were fucking worth it, you would’ve!”
She lifts her right foot, Oboro readies his fists, and Shouta merely takes a step back.
In hindsight, he probably should’ve noticed her from the beginning. With a pair of brass knuckles in hand, and rage crossing her features, Kayama “Midnight” Nemuri dashes out from behind the counter and punches the shit out of Toga’s sternum.
Toga wheezes and drops, curling up to try and minimize the pain. Nemuri stands over her triumphantly and kicks the knife away. “Next time, try not to stab anyone in my fucking café! It takes me a few days to get blood out of the carpet, you bitch.”
Shouta heads over to Oboro and nudges his head up, briefly getting smacked by his fluffy hair. “Hold still,” Shouta mutters as he applies ointment and covers the cut with a bandage from his pocket. “I’m only going to say this once, so listen up. Shirakumo Oboro, what the hell were you thinking? Why did you decide to do this by yourself?”
“I honestly didn’t think they’d find me again,” Oboro whispers, dropping his head into his hands when Shouta’s done. “God, I’m so stupid. I just...didn’t want to think about it anymore. I’m sorry I hid this from you guys, especially since we’re friends now.”
“Honestly, at this point, we’re more of a family than anything.” Shouta sighs. “Don’t tell Hizashi I said that. He’d scream and shatter Nemuri’s windows, and I don’t want to pay for repairs again. But just know that you can trust us with this next time something happens. We’ll hand her over to the police and we’ll head somewhere to get drinks. If you want to talk about anything, you definitely can. Would you be okay with that?”
Even with the reassurance that his friends don’t hate him, Oboro breaks down in tears, soaking Shouta’s shirt and making the man awkwardly pat him on the back. “I’m so sorry,” he sobs, finally losing his happy and cheerful demeanor. It only took him a few months, but he’s tired of being scared and terrified that the League would hunt him down. “I’m so, so sorry.”
“We forgive you, and we love you!” Nemuri shouts from where she’s tying Toga up. She manages some...interesting knots that must’ve taken a while to perfect and turns around to put her hands on her hips. “We would’ve done the same damn thing, Oboro. Don’t beat yourself up over it.”
Before Oboro can say anything, the door gets kicked open. Hizashi runs in with a yell and another pair of brass knuckles, looking around frantically. “WHO AM I FIGHTING TODAY—oh. Aw man, did I miss another fight?”
“As per usual,” Shouta sighs. Oboro snorts from where his head is still on his shoulder. “Regardless, we’ll turn this girl over to the police and get her a therapist so she can have a support system that’ll actually work. Shall we head out then?”
“I’d really like that,” Oboro mutters into his shirt. Good-natured as always, Shouta smiles and lets him lay there for the rest of the night.
In their tiny coastal town, Kurogiri is laid to rest beneath the ocean waves.
Shirakumo Oboro is left standing on the beach.
“You okay?” Nemuri asks, gently nudging him. Hizashi and Shouta flank both of his sides and make sure they’re sharing their body heat. Nemuri presses a cup of hot cocoa into Oboro’s cold hands.
Oboro doesn’t respond for a moment, staring out at the ocean with a certain glint in his eyes. He’s silent for only a few more seconds until Sushi, who’s been curling around his legs, lets out a sharp mew! and leaps into his arms.
The four of them look over at Sushi, who’s right at home in Oboro’s arms as he purrs and curls up. Oboro finally smiles and responds, “It’s going to rain soon. You guys wanna have a movie night before we start our week?”
“That sounds like a great plan!” Hizashi cheers, looking like a huge weight’s been taken off his shoulders. “We’ll order some takeout and do some karaoke later, if you want?”
Shouta and Nemuri groan immediately but Oboro laughs so hard he almost drops. He laughs until he tears up, burdened and free of the dark shadow that’s haunted him for far too long, and allows Nemuri to wipe his tears away. “That sounds fantastic,” he vows, and ushers his friends to his home, the first drops of rain already hitting the sand.