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It’s complicated.
You don’t like using that word. You think it’s cliche. Overused. Stupid even. But when you pull off the rose-tinted glasses and take off the headphones, you truly get to witness things for they truly are. The messy room that you’ve learned to call your home is attached to a bar. Yet it doesn’t smell like cheap booze or expensive liquor. It’s not filled with warm, pub lights or neon club signs. Only the light from an old TV displaying a game you just barely enjoy fills your view. The only thing at the end of the tunnel. The only sun in your world. The only star in your sky.
It’s complicated not because this is how you live. It’s complicated because this is how you choose to live. Contently .
Choose is a strong word for this scenario, but you’ve learned not to be afraid to use words that might hurt your feelings. Because there are people in this unfair world that exist that are more important than your feelings. More dangerous than them too. And the truth of the matter is that he is one of them. Another truth is that he gets what he wants. By power. By influence. By force. An outstretched hand. A barked order. Whatever, whenever. He can throw a hissy fit. He can formulate a plan. It can happen immediately. It can be long and slow. It can be anything.
But the truth of the matter is that he gets what he wants . Almost, almost always . But that’s not important- because that almost applies to others things. Other people. Things that are more dangerous. Things that are more powerful. Than you.
And another truth is that what he wanted- what he still wants - is you. For what reasons, you’re still not entirely sure. You were never told the full story. Through what methods, you don’t entirely know. You were never told the full truth. But you do know one thing. One little thing that no one can ever take from you. It’s that even if you’re not here entirely by choice…
“Great job on that last part. You’re getting a lot better at this.”
…you don’t know if you could ever leave by choice. Not now.
“Thanks, Tomu.”
And maybe not even ever.
You take a quick second to turn your head and flick your gaze back to the man sitting behind you. Sometimes, you can’t even believe it’s real. Sometimes, you can’t even believe it’s true. Like if you turn to see him this time- he won’t be here. You’ll be alone in your own room. In your own place. Far, far away from this.
But sure enough, your eyes meet a pair of red eyes for just a nanosecond. Then all too soon, he’s turning his gaze back onto the screen- ready to give you more directions if need be. Hidden behind a messy of pale hair once more. You try not to show your slight disappointment. The words should have been enough for you. Those rare, rare words of praise should have been more than enough. But it wasn’t. You’ve grown careless. Sloppy even. Things have only been and will always be complicated. Yet it’s in your best interest not to start another mess. One that might eventually be too big for you to clean up.
However, things don’t always work out the way you hoped they would. You know that lesson but heart, but it still comes as a surprise whenever you have a chance to relive and relearn them all again. For a split second, he catches your expression. Not the only that instantly looks at him for approval. But the one that looks sad when you find that you didn’t receive all that you wanted. And for you, that’s a dangerous game. And for him? That’s a powerful target.
So you tear your gaze away from his face, and you face the TV screen once more. Your hands stiffen around the console game controller, and you go back to playing. Your fingers are gliding to buttons with so much more ease. You’re not quite on his level. But you’re far better than you originally were when you were first taken to his room and handed a controller. Now you’re at the point where he’s no longer teaching about every little move you make and every monster you’ll face. You’re being told shortcuts. Cheat codes to get past the parts he finds annoying. Hints on how to beat puzzles. Sympathy when you lose a boss fight that even he thinks is bullshit. On top of it all- you get praise.
The truth of the matter is that he gets what he wants. Another truth is that he doesn’t always give other people what you want. That’s what makes you so nervous. That’s what has you walking around on eggshells. That’s what makes things so complicated. What he wants- it’s still you. You know that based on the fact that you’re still here- perched out in his room, wearing his hoodie and a pair of his shorts despite the fact that he had gotten you your own wardrobe a long, long time ago. But that’s where things get weird.
Does he want you to tolerate him? Does he want you to enjoy doing things like this with him? Sure he’ll throw an anime on while you’re in the same room. Sure he’ll have moments like this where he’ll pass you the game, and he’ll want you to play. And sure you can sometimes wander around the bar all you want. Request things you like. Ask for things you need. But what’s the goal? To like him? To love him? Does he want you to rely on him and him alone? Does he want a friend? An equal? A pet? A plaything? And even then…
Where does it begin? Where does it end? What does he want you for? What does he want you to do? What will he kill you for?
You’re not sure. You’re not sure you even want to be sure. But you’ve learned not to be afraid to use words that might hurt your feelings. You call it complicated in your head because that’s all you can do. You tell yourself to avoid more complications because that’s all you need to do. And you fix your gaze on the screen, and you keep playing because it’s not complicated anymore, and that’s all you have left to do. Just keep playing. And playing. And playing. And playing. And-
And you stop. Pausing the game in one single frame.
You stop because his body had just moved closer to yours. You stop because you feel the hood of your hoodie being adjusted to expose your skin. You stop because you feel him hunting you- preying on you from behind. Getting closer and closer to the point you can feel a warm breath against your body. Getting closer and closer to the point you’re sure that this will be it. Getting closer and closer to the point he surrounds you completely- with long, lengthy limbs and dangerous, dangerous hands that you just can’t see. But can imagine, all the same.
But then something happens. Something that isn’t your death. Something that isn’t your destruction. Something that isn’t your complete and utter decay. Rather it’s a new feeling. A feeling you’re scared of. A new feeling you crave .
A new feeling that is him having you sit snuggly between his legs. While long arms wrap around your torso. Squeezing you tightly. While lips make contact with the skin on the back of your neck. Kissing you sweetly. As if he were a loving and adoring boyfriend, and not your kidnapper and your warden all wrapped in one.
As if you were his loving and adoring partner, and not his victim and his prisoner all wrapped in one.
“ Keep playing .” Shigaraki Tomura murmurs encouragingly into your skin in between all too-quiet kisses. This new position of his keeps you rooted in place. It keeps you rooted in your mind- stuck between a rock and a boulder of all places. His grip and his touch- it’s that of a lover’s. Romantic and warm. His mind and his person- it’s that of a madman. Calculated and exact. And oh, so complicated. ” Why did you stop? ”
Why did you stop ?
You know the answer to this question. You know it, and it pains you to admit it. The answer. The truth. But you’ve learned not to be afraid to use words that might hurt your feelings. There are things that are more powerful than your feelings. Things that are more dangerous. So you go ahead. And you do it. You use those words you know might hurt, and you look inside yourself. You don’t run. You don’t hide. You tell yourself the truth:
You stopped because deep down, this is exactly what you wanted.
And that’s what makes things so complicated.
And then, you unpause. You don’t respond out loud. He doesn’t need you to. Instead, you keep playing. And he keeps holding you. And you keep going. And he keeps kissing you. And it’s complicated.
So, so complicated.
But you don’t think you could ever live in a world with him where it wouldn’t be.