Chapter Text
Tomie's thoughts about home always start with her at the kitchen table. Years and years ago, when her hair was lighter, eyes brighter, and when windows were open to any passing breeze. The countryside had felt so restricting back then, stifling of anything and anyone with a dream. Each green pasture that extended long past the horizon seemed to her damning. It meant that for miles and miles, there was nothing but other farmers trying to make ends meet, content with their lot in life.
Sitting across from her at that kitchen table was her mom, looking outside with that same faraway look in her eyes. Internalized sadness and pain that Tomie couldn't tap into with even the most powerful tools. Long sighs, small sips from the cup in her hands, and a shake of her head. A silent conversation with someone. God, maybe? The universe? Herself?
Whoever it was, it never made her mother happy.
"Shouldn't put your elbows on the table." Her mother's words always snapped Tomie out of her state of wonder, and her mom went from a piece to be studied to a person to be wary of. Tomie would always sigh dramatically and, with great exaggeration, put her elbows down and just rest her hands in her lap. They'd both then return to looking outside.
Sometimes a storm would roll in and they could see the lightning striking the flat lands as they loomed closer and closer to their little house.
Other times they'd see a truck drive on past, livestock in the back bumping along for a ride to the fairgrounds or the factory.
It's always when her mom's on her final sips that the woman looks at Tomie. It always made her daughter feel like a stain on the wall instead of a person-it was never a look of real love. What followed next usually was a comment about Tomie's hair, makeup, clothes, fingernails, or anything else she could find little flaws in. Then would follow questions on if the house was safe, was that truck that passed really going somewhere else or was it parked somewhere they could see the two women, where Tomie was that day, who she spoke to, what she planned to do the rest of the day, and what time she planned on going to bed. How much they should spend on groceries for the week and what Tomie ought to wear to not stand out so much was also a common topic of interest at that kitchen table.
The breeze would always be there to remind Tomie that the world was wide, and the countryside had an ending point somewhere in the distance.
- -
It was almost comical how very little changed.
Home now looked like a lavish penthouse towering tall and high above the city. The tenants, the real tenants, were some government officials away on holiday for an indeterminate amount of time. Which Tomie knew was the Thief's way of telling her "Shut up and don't worry about where they are". It was something that Tomie could live with and obviously had no other option than to just live with it.
Such was the lavish and privileged life on the run with the Takami Thief. Especially now that he's risen to the ranks of, you know murder.
He had assured Tomie that it was a nobody who died, anyway. It was gonna be ruled as an overdose, suicide, something something "not murder", Tomie stopped caring about
"Keep an eye on the hallway, Tomie." Thief's voice echoed from the open kitchen, Tomie was able to see the light from the refrigerator shine even on the large TV screen she sat in front of.
It was all she could do to stay awake, subtly nodding her head and shifting her focus onto her quirk. Luckily, the hallway of the penthouse was long and expansive, their neighbor's door so far down close to the exit that they wouldn't notice a flying eyeball nearby. It was something that seemed to relax Thief partially, but it meant Tomie had to stay awake. Wide awake. And with Tomie being in her...special state, it just made using her quirk feel like she was being sucked out of all her life.
"Turn on the news."
Tomie flipped from channel to channel, purposefully skipping over the news channels to elicit a reaction from Thief. It used to make her snort to mess with him, and he used to smile at her disobedience of the most mundane tasks. Now, it was just something she hoped irked him.
Irked it did. Thief kicked the refrigerator door closed and appeared from behind the couch, yanking the remote out of her hand and slowing down her channel-flipping until a newscaster's face was plastered all across the screen. "So fuckin' hard to do that, huh?"
"Sorry, I didn't hear you. I've sort of got myself doing multiple things at once." Tomie's tone was bored but dripping in sarcasm nonetheless. "Like making sure we weren't followed or that the owners don't come back?"
Thief plopped down on the seat next to her, sipping a bottle of expensive-brand beer he had scrounged up in the fridge before responding. "Please. You're the one who bragged about doing this shit in your sleep,"
"I guess it was more fun when it was all about stealing clothes or food. Murder wasn't on that list of perks regarding my quirk."
"Should've taken that into account, sweetheart." He sets down the bottle and grabs the stack of magazines on the coffee table. A mix of hero publications and interior decorating subscriptions, none of which particularly interested Tomie (but she'd be lying if she said the All Might spread on page thirteen wasn't pleasing to the eyes), and certainly didn't interest Thief before he tossed them to the side. "Wish we had found some people with actual cool shit in their homes. If you're rich, why waste your money on stuff like this?"
"You don't really have to have taste when you're rich."
Thief scoffed. "I would. I sure as shit would have more color in my place. One of those little lounges where I can put all my own shit, too. What are those, man caves? Yeah..yeah, that sounds perfect. Whole room full of all the items I want and easy access to the bedroom for nights I need you, of course."
Tomie still looks at the TV. She doesn't blush at the implication, mostly because he lacks the charisma he prides himself on. "I'd want a TV like this. And a window. Maybe some chocolate bars all cold in the fridge for me."
"Sounds simple and boring. You're no better than the rich suckers who live here, Tom-Tom."
It was banter that, even a few months ago, Tomie would've carried on. A kick to the stomach and sharp aches to her side keep her quiet, though. She tried silently taking deep and heavy breaths. Settling her hands on her stomach, she just blankly watched the screen while, in reality, she watched the hallway. Every flicker of the lights, every creak of the elevator, any small noise had her eye moving in its exact direction.
It hurt her head.
Then the news was suddenly turned up loud and her concentration was broken.
Thief, at this point, had knocked over the magazines onto the floor and stood up straight, slack-jawed, and eyes solely focused on the 'breaking news'. Tomie hadn't seen him that afraid in the entirety of their relationship. Not even when their surprise was announced.
'If you're just tuning in now, sources confirm that Endeavor, Japan's recently ranked number two pro hero, has entered into the ongoing investigation of the death of resident-'
The eyeball out in the hallway was forgotten, and Tomie's split focus as a result of her quirk was turned off so she could solely look at the television. The name had her own eyes wide until, slowly as if her looking at Thief would set him on fire, she focused on him.
'...was found unresponsive in a back alley Thursday night with his wallet and phone both missing. Police confirm that the victim did have underground criminal connections and this has the potential to be tied to a string of robberies ongoing in the downtown area. Suffice it to say, the rise in crime waves in our downtown region has now caught the attention of Endeavor and, undoubtedly, more of the Hero Public Safety Commission. Reporting outside the justice building now is our very own...'
Tomie's breath hitched in her throat, still looking up at Thief. She should feel anger. Instead, she felt nauseous, and shoving past a stunned Thief she found the bathroom and threw up her stolen meal right then and there.
You've got some comedic timing, kiddo.
She kept a hand on her stomach as she slowly stood back up, and caught herself in the reflection. A creature that looked an awful lot like her but had so many features just different enough. Her blonde hair was longer now and unkempt. She used to want to cut her bangs once they reached past her eyebrows, now she's using her quirk so much that it didn't even really bother her that her own eyes were hiding behind the ashy blonde strands of hair. Which was fine-she had her mother's faded blue eyes and whatever she could do to hide from her mother's gaze, she'd do. Her outfit, an oversized sweatshirt with ripped jeans she'd stolen from one of the bedrooms in the penthouse, was not equipped to fit pregnant women. It was a vain attempt to hide her stomach, which Thief insisted brought more unwanted attention to them.
A roundabout way of telling her "Get rid of it any way you can".
There was a loud crash and Tomie walked out of the bathroom to find the TV destroyed. Shards of the bottle were around the floor and Thief pacing around the room were enough for her to fit the pieces of the puzzle together.
"Did I tell you it's a boy?" Tomie didn't know why she was telling him. It would only make him more mad at her. Good. A stupid idiot dug a hole for himself. If she had to go down with him, she wanted him have to more dirt to bury himself in. "Doctor said it. Felt bad slipping away when she was talking to her receptionist. Said he's a strong-"
A beer bottle was flung near her, but was still enough to make her jump.
Thief's eyes, golden and bright as the moon, stared her down. "Why are your eyes still in the apartment?
"He's got a strong heartbeat..it's too early to tell if he'll have a quirk or not. I hope he'll have one." She hopes it isn't hers.
Hands on her shoulder shake her violently, nausea rising in her throat and her headache growing exponentially as she stares into the eyes of Thief. Golden. Piercing. Paralyzing. A predator and a prey, the two of them. But he never struck her, she had the little one to thank for that.
"If we don't act now, you'll give birth in jail. How about that, huh?" He shakes her again. "You'll give birth to him in jail and then he'll be taken from you. I won't take care of either of you if I'm behind bars, Tomie."
Her eyes avoided his until he shook her again. "Look at me, you idiot."
She relents.
"...oh god, I'm so...I'm so..." He trails off, pushing her away from him as he begins his frantic pacing again. He's speaking a hundred miles an hour, trying to come up with a plan. "I can't take care of two people. I can't. I'm not doing this, where am I supposed to go?"
"Don't leave." She said out loud to him, hoping he'd stop his pacing and assure her otherwise, even if it meant calling her an idiot for saying it. He doesn't. She says it again and is met with,
"Then fucking find us somewhere to hide!"
Two eyes out in the hallway. Two eyes on the Thief pacing around the apartment. Tomie thinks of home again and the far green pastures she and her mother felt trapped by. Murder wasn't even in the forefront of her mind.
The Thief gathers up items to sell from the penthouse and tosses them into a bag, a bag he tosses to Tomie to carry and to "shut the hell up" when she asks him again if he's planning on leaving her.
They don't stay in the penthouse another minute, but evidence of their break-in is strewn about and will no doubt be fuel to the fire that is Endeavor and his investigation.