Work Text:
Shigaraki hated Valentine’s Day.
It was a holiday built on meaningless gestures, a day where people lied to themselves with chocolates and overpriced roses, pretending that love was something pure and everlasting. As if the world wasn’t rotting under their feet. As if everything didn’t fall apart the second you touched it too hard. The entire world lost its mind over chocolates, flowers, and sappy confessions, as if love was something that could be bought and wrapped in pink ribbons. Disgusting.
He used to scoff at it, call it bullshit, roll his eyes at the couples making fools of themselves over empty promises.
So why the hell was his stomach twisting into knots right now?
Here he was — standing in the dimly lit common room in the hideout of the League of Villains, gripping a slightly-smushed bouquet of roses, feeling like a complete idiot.
The petals were a little uneven (because he may have accidentally gripped them too hard), and the stems were bent at odd angles. Still, they were red, and alive — which was an achievement, considering his track record with fragile things. His nails scraped against the delicate stems, and for the third time in the past ten minutes, he had to remind himself — Don’t grip too hard. Don’t destroy them.
This was stupid. What was he even supposed to say? "Here, I didn’t decay these. Happy Valentine’s Day."
Shit. No. That sounded awful.
His hands itched. His throat felt tight. His thoughts were tangled in something he didn’t know how to deal with.
Today marked one year since you had barged into his life and made a home for yourself in his once stone-cold heart. One year since you had looked at him, really looked at him, and hadn’t flinched away. One year since he realized he could love something and not want to destroy it.
Shigaraki let out a frustrated sigh as he paced back and forth, rubbing his temple with his free hand as he heard voices from down the hall.
“I’m telling you, the boss is up to something,” Toga’s singsong voice drifted closer. “He’s been acting all weird and shifty today.”
“Pfft. Maybe he’s finally snapping for good.” That was Twice. “Or— OR! Maybe he’s planning to kill someone special!”
Dabi snorted. “Nah, if he was planning a murder, he’d be in a better mood.”
Shigaraki scowled, considering murder at that very moment.
Then, the front door creaked open.
“Tomura? I’m back!”
His breath hitched.
Your voice. Light, warm — completely unfazed by the fact that you had just stepped into a hideout full of the most dangerous criminals in Japan.
Shigaraki barely had time to shove the flowers behind his back before you walked into the room, smiling as you set your bag down.
“Welcome back,” he muttered, still feeling the League’s eyes on him as three curious heads peeked into the common room from the corridor.
Tilting your head, you approached him slowly. “I gathered the intel. I’ll prepare the report for you later… Hey, Tomu, you seem a little nervous. Are you sure you’re doing okay?”
Toga giggled, and Dabi clasped his palm over her mouth to muffle the noise.
Shigaraki groaned, shooting them all a glare before turning back to you. “Nah, I’m good. I was waiting for you, that’s all.”
You chuckled. “You were waiting for me? That’s sweet.”
His face burned. He wasn’t sweet. He was a goddamn villain. This was ridiculous.
He cleared his throat and quickly changed the subject. “Ugh. I got you something.”
Before he could second-guess himself, he pulled the bouquet from behind his back and thrust it into your hands, as if the faster he got rid of them, the less humiliating this would be.
The room went still.
You looked down at the bouquet in your hands, blinking in surprise. You gasped softly, your eyes widening. “Tomura… you got me roses?”
You were going to laugh. You were going to point out how uneven the petals were, how the stems were bent at weird angles. You were going to—
Your fingers brushed over the petals, and your face softened. You smiled. “I love them,” you said, holding the bouquet close to your nose, inhaling the scent of the roses.
“You… do?” His voice came out rough, uncertain.
“Of course.” You chuckled, tilting your head. “You got me roses. On our anniversary. That’s adorable. You are adorable, Tomu.”
Toga squealed so loudly it nearly shattered glass. “Awwww! Our leader is such a softie!”
Twice was beside himself. “Wait, wait, wait! Was this the special murder?! ‘Cause this is killing me! SO WHOLESOME! SO DISGUSTING!”
Dabi just smirked, leaning back against the door frame. “Well, damn. The boss does have a heart after all.”
Shigaraki’s eye twitched. He gritted his teeth so hard his jaw ached. He was going to disintegrate all of them later. Now, he ignored them, choosing instead to focus on you — the way you still held the roses, the way your eyes gleamed with pure happiness.
His face felt unbearably hot as he mumbled, “Tch. Don’t call me that.”
You giggled, stepping closer, wrapping your arms around his waist. “But it’s true.”
For a moment, he stood there, tense, hyper-aware of the League watching. Then, with an exasperated sigh, he gave in — wrapping his arms around you, holding you close. “…Happy anniversary,” he muttered against your hair, leaning forward to place a fleeting kiss on your cheek.
Your fingers curled against his hoodie, a soft hum escaping you. “Happy anniversary, Tomura.”
Maybe — just maybe — he didn’t completely hate Valentine’s Day after all.