Chapter Text
What if?
That was the one question everyone already asked themselves. What if I had done differently? What if I didn’t say that? What if I had tried when I had the chance?
What if I weren’t born?
Ever since he got caught in his— or sensei’s? He didn’t know and it didn’t matter anymore. Him and sensei were one and the same: what he wished was Tomura’s wish as well. Yes, they were only one, but once in a while, specially in these moments when those annoying heroes wouldn’t just understand that they were supposed to fall to the ground and not stand one more fucking time, there was a tiny voice in the back of his mind that would make this question. What if he were never born? Tomura would be eternally grateful to sensei, after all, he saved the younger boy and gave his life purpose when everything else crumbled before his eyes, but what if ?
As he watched Midoriya Izuku standing up again , something inside Tomura snapped. That would never end. He wouldn’t give up on destroying all heroes and that pest would never stop getting in his way. In the beginning, it was fun; a cat and mouse sort of chase. But now it annoyed him to no end. As he clenched his fist and charged, the only thing he wanted was for that to be over already, and that would be decided at that moment. So either he died or that irritating boy would, but he would bring an end to that fight—
The loud ring of a clock made him sit up straight, his hand clenching his shirt as his heart beat so fast it made it difficult to breathe. It took him a couple of seconds to regain control over his body, but when he did, he stared at where he was, his breathing now stopping for a whole different reason.
He was currently sitting on a bed, the four walls of what was undoubtedly a bedroom were bare except for some shelves filled with books and comics, and some posters of— what the heck was that? A rock band ? Slowly turning his neck, he saw a table attached to the bed, the computer on it still had its screen on and provided the only light in the dark room since the window on top of it was tightly shut.
Blinking, he slowly turned his eyes back to the wall in front of him. What the fucking fuck? Wasn’t he in the middle of the battle with the heroes? What—
The door was kicked open, red eyes seething as someone Tomura recognized very well stormed into the room and slapped a hand on the alarm. “If you’re not going to wake up, you zombie freak, don’t set the damn clock!”
And just like that, the door was slammed shut and Tomura was alone again. Later on, when he recalled this first moment, Tomura would say he was in shock, that was the only explanation for how he stayed glued to the spot. But apparently the noise coming from the door finally shook him out of his stupor. His brain working faster than his body, he quickly moved to stand up, only to have his legs tangled on the sheets and his face falling straight to the floor.
“Fuck.” He murmured as he pushed himself off the floor, the pain only making him even more irritated than he already was. Glaring at the offending sheets, he reached forward and wrapped his fingers around it, his smirk petty as he thought those freaking sheets would never cause misfortune to anyone ever again.
Or that was what should have happened, except it didn’t.
Frowning, Tomura sat straight, his other hand joining the first as his fingers clenched the cotton material tightly. He wasn’t sure how long he stayed in that position, with only his fingers moving across the sheets, but the result remained the same: the sheets wouldn’t disintegrate. Slowly releasing the material, he brought his palms close to his eyes. What the fuck? What happened to his quirk? And not only his, he couldn’t feel any of the others that he inherited from his master either.
A knock on the door brought him back, his eyes quickly moving to the red-headed boy standing on the crack of the door. “Hey, Tenko, didn’t you say you have a test in the morning? Hurry up and go to the bathroom, you know Kaminari will stay there forever and he’s almost up.”
Without waiting for an answer, the boy left, the door remaining ajar and letting some light inside. Looking back down at his hands, Tomura felt his brain going a hundred miles per hour. Tenko? What was happening? The first guy was the hero he killed on the battlefield and he was positive the one that just appeared was also part of their entourage. Was that the effect of a quirk? But he couldn’t recall anyone touching him. Was that air induced? Perhaps a hypnosis of some sort?
Quickly standing up, he opened the door to a hallway. Looking to one side, he saw some doors and the end of the corridor; to the other, the hallway connected to some other path. Moving fast, he went down the stairs and passed through a living room, voices getting louder as he approached a kitchen. Stopping for a second at the entrance, he frowned. Yes, there was no mistake, those two were the heroes who accompanied Midoriya Izuku and were fighting him. So perhaps his theory was right, he was trapped inside an illusion provoked by someone during the fight. And if it was an illusion, either someone had to wake him up from the other side or he would have to do it himself, meaning through pain.
Ignoring the two heroes, Tomura got close to the oven and turned the fire on. He was almost certain that he was right, almost , that was why he would try this first. Had he been one hundred percent certain, he would have jumped from the window. Nodding to himself, he let his hand fall to the fire and winced. No matter, even if it hurt, he would wake up in no time so—
“Holy shit, are you crazy?!” A sharp tug on his arm had him stumbling to the side, his hand soon under soothing, cold water. Biting down on his lip, Tomura closed his eyes, tears gathering on it. Shit, a simple burn shouldn’t hurt like that. He had been through much worse, why did it sting so much? And why hadn’t he woken up? “Bakugo! Get the first aid kit! Shit, Tenko, are you so sleep deprived you don’t see what you’re doing?!”
Letting the red-haired man pull him to the living room, Shigaraki tried to understand what was happening. He should be back by now, why was he still trapped there? What did he have to do? If he died there, would that do the trick? But what if he jumped from the roof and really died? He was willing to die on the battlefield, but a ridiculous death from suicide? Hell, no, that wouldn’t happen.
Whistling lowly, the blond sat on the floor and pulled Tomura’s hand on top of the table. “That’s nasty, you should have this checked in the hospital. Say, zombie freak, did your brain finally fried from the long periods of time you stay in front of that computer?”
Wincing as the blond cleaned the wound, Tomura looked at the angry red over the scar that already covered his palm, small blisters starting to form there. “There’s no need.”
“No need? Are you retarded?! This is turning into a second degree burn, you geek moron!” Glaring at the red-haired idiot when he slapped the back of his head, Tomura thought those idiotic heroes were asking to be killed. Getting to the base of the stairs, the red-headed shouted. “Kaminari! I’m borrowing your car!”
The answer came muffled from the second floor. “Like hell you are! I have a shooting soon! I won’t be there in time if I take the bus!”
“Call an uber!” Ignoring the string of curses coming from upstairs, the boy looked at Tomura. “Come on, I’ll take you to the hospital. You coming, Bakugo?”
“Ha? Why the fuck would I go? I’m going to practice.” Closing the first-aid kit, the blond stood up. “And coach’s gonna feed you your dick if you don’t show up.”
Groaning, the red-haired covered his face with his hands, an anguish look there. “Shit… Tell him I’ll be a little late.”
Ignoring the throbbing on his hand, Tomura stood up. “I don’t need to go to the hospital.” Actually, more than anything, he wanted to go up to the room he was in before and try to sort things out. He needed some alone time to think and trace a strategy.
“Like hell you don’t!” Not remembering him being so weak, Tomura felt his body being dragged against his will by the other man. “Bakugo, tell coach I’m going!”
x - x - x - x
Walking down the now almost empty streets of the campus, Tomura kicked a small rock on the sidewalk. It has been three weeks since he woke up in that place - three fucking weeks - and in the meantime, he learned two things: one, that couldn’t possibly be the effect of a simple quirk; and two, he was surrounded by heroes.
The quirk part was easy to grasp, afterall no quirk effect should last that long. So he still wasn’t sure about what happened, but Tomura was almost certain it wasn’t the work of the heroes. Actually, he had no idea who could have pulled that. He knew of no one who had a space-time sort of quirk, because he was sure that was what had happened: he, somehow, was sent to a different reality, one where there were no quirks, no heroes, and no villains. Glancing at the glass windows of the building he was walking past, he stared at his own reflection. It was still difficult to recognize himself without the wrinkles and chapped skin around his face and neck, the only things that remained from his past self being his bleach white hair, his red eyes, the scar on the left side of his lips, the three prosthetic fingers on his left hand, and the huge scar on his right arm. In the hero society where he used to live, that was nothing, but in the place where he was now, where people lived peacefully, he would always be the receiving end of either pitiful or disgusted stares.
It annoyed him to no end, to the point he wished he had his quirk back just so he could watch as those fuckers slowly crumble before him. Except he couldn’t and from the likes of it, he wouldn’t be able to do so in the near future.
Feeling his phone buzzing in his pocket, Tomura rolled his eyes as picked up. “What?”
“Hey, we’re having pizza at Sero’s place, you wanna come along?”
Tomura wondered how much more of a son of a bitch he had to be so that pain in the ass Kirishima would stop pestering him. “No.”
“Alright. Hold on.” There were loud voices in the back telling him to hurry up or he would be left behind. “I’m going, godammit! Tell Bakugo to calm the fuck down! Hey, Tenko, be careful on your way back, there are some attacks happening around the campus.”
Tomura scoffed. “Do you think I’m a chick? Piss off, shitty hair.”
Finishing the call and throwing the phone inside his bag, Tomura grumbled as he walked. That was the other thing he discovered: even though he was not in his own world, it seemed as if everybody around him was a fucking hero— and not hero in the sense of the superpowers, no. They were a much worse kind: wannabe heroes. Everybody and their mothers thought they needed to put their noses in his business and take care of him. He was a grown man, for fuck’s sake, he didn’t need a freaking sitter. But apparently that was exactly what two of the morons who lived with him thought. Kirishima Eijiro and Kaminaki Denki pissed him off to no end. The first because he acted like he was Tomura’s mom and the other because he was like an annoying little brother. The only person who was somewhat agreeable in that shithole where he lived was Bakugo Katsuki. As it turned out, the former superhero didn’t like people meddling with his business, so he stayed out of others’ as well. Not to mention he had some amusingly good nicknames for everybody.
But all this freedom with him was partially Tomura’s own fault. The day Kirishima took him to the hospital, Tomura started asking questions and apparently that made the red-haired young man think Tomura bumped his head or something. Tomura blamed it one hundred percent on the pain. Should his mind be clear, he would never ask their names or why they lived together or what Tomura did for a living. So, yeah, it was his fault. On the bright side, he was able to somehow convince Kirishima and the others that he was somehow suffering from temporary memory loss and thus acquire the information he needed. Apparently, he was still Shimura Tenko and his family also died in that reality, but when the house collapsed during an earthquake. He got his fake fingers and the scar on the arm from a fire that broke out that day. After he stayed for a long time in the hospital, Tomura was sent to an orphanage where he grew up. During his school years, he studied with both Kirishima and a chick called Ashido Mina, who was as annoying as Kaminari. So when the two of them got accepted in the same college and had to move from their small town, it was a given that they started living together.
“But, you know, I don’t think it’s only memory loss. I mean, your personality changed as well.”
Stopping just outside the house they shared, Tomura frowned. “How so?”
“Well… You used to be a lot more easy-going.” Kirishima’s eyes popped open, his hands immediately going up. “Not that you’re a bad person now! It’s just you seem to be always on edge!”
This conversation took place the previous week and, well, shitty hair was not wrong. He was on edge because what he was living was not his life and the person they knew was not him . He wanted to go back to his world and his only hope would be finding either sensei or that doctor, Garaki. It was a reasonable thought: if the heroes, such as the students or even the pros who fought against him, were in that reality, then the other two should be as well. All he had to do was locate them, but that was proving to be a rather difficult task. He found out he was really good with computers in that life, but even then he couldn’t seem to—
A scream made him stop dead on his tracks. The street was pitch black since it was almost 10 p.m. and at the specific place he was at, there was not a living soul.
‘There are some attacks happening around the campus.’
Was that what was happening? It was clearly a girl’s voice, so perhaps Kirishima was not wrong. He was about to move to where the sound came from when he stopped, a deep frown on his face.
And so what ? He was a villain, for fuck’s sake— the villain. He couldn’t care less if some brainless chick got jumped at. She should know better than to walk around at this hour and in such a remote place. Turning, Tomura was resuming his walk, when another scream came. Groaning, he closed his eyes shut, his hand in a tight fist bumping against his own head. But never once had he attacked someone like that. He did things fair and square, face to face, not in the dark with some girl who didn’t even have a quirk to try and defend herself. Letting his feet run in the direction the voice came, Tomura thought he was indeed spending too much time with those wannabe heroes. Their nuisance of a behavior seemed to be contagious.
It wasn’t that far from where he was, a grunt and loud panting made him slow down until he saw it: on the sidewalk, on a place where the street lamps were all broken, a guy was holding a girl against the building, her legs kicking in vain as he roughly pulled the bag from her hand. Letting his fighting skills kick in, Tomura quickly closed the distance between them, his foot making contact with the guy’s head and sending him back. Stopping as he saw the other man groan and stumble, Tomura felt a sick smile taking over his face.
It felt insanely good to be able to fight, even without his quirk.
Not giving him enough time to completely stand, Tomura closed the distance between them, his legs and arms moving in an increasingly fast speed until the man finally fell down again, his body unmoving as the metallic scent of blood slowly filled the air.
Crouching down beside the body, Tomura poked it with a finger. “What? That’s all you’ve got? Not much of a fight when you’re up against someone other than a defenseless chick, are you? Boring piece of shit.”
Hearing shuffling, Tomura glanced behind him. The girl was with her phone, her voice shaky as she passed the address and explained the situation to the police. Looking back at the passed out man in front of him, Tomura quickly assessed the situation. Well, he screwed up big time. If he went to the police station to testify, Kirishima would become an even bigger pain in the ass. Sure, there was always the possibility of him finding the two people he was looking for faster with the police, but then again… His mind suddenly clearing, Tomura stood up. Of course! How come he hadn't thought of that before? He would break into the police’s system. He was confident enough in his computer skills to do so.
Looking at the girl who was sitting on the curb, he nodded to her feet. “Give me your shoelaces.”
She blinked. “... What?”
“Shoelaces, hurry up!” His tone apparently made her functional again, but with those wobbly fingers, they would get to the station before she finished pulling them out. Sighing, Tomura knelt in front of her, his fingers working fast on one of the sneakers as she tried the same on the other. Grabbing the two strings, he went back to the man and tied both his hands and feet. Finishing on the task, he looked back at her. “Police are coming, right? He won’t be able to move like this, so you can explain the situation to them, yeah?”
Not waiting for her to reply, he turned and started walking in the opposite direction. He suddenly had a good reason to be back in that shit house.
“W- wait! Hey!” Frowning, he glanced over his shoulder at the girl. “What’s your name?”
He scoffed. As if he would tell her. “None of your business!”
He thought she had understood the message when suddenly she shouted. “Well, thank you, none of your business!”
Chuckling for the first time since he got in that shit place, Tomura speed-walked across the now silent campus.