the week just for spinaraki

Another fan walking up, another round of awkward yet meaningful back-and-forth about how much the book and its story means to the both of them, another autograph with a personalized note, and another “farewell and good luck”.

This had been Shuichi Iguchi’s Sisyphean routine for the past couple years. Ever since his account of the villains who he called friends was miraculously allowed to be published for the masses to read, his life had become a seemingly endless parade of book tours, seminars, speeches, and charity events all in the name of making sure no one got left behind or fell through the cracks like the League of Villains had. It was tough work for him, he didn’t think he could ever truly feel comfortable under a spotlight or on a podium, but it was worth it.

It was worth it to see just how many people whose hearts he had touched with his story, from people who were shaken out of their apathy after seeing what the villains went through to make them who they were, to people who had gone through similar circumstances themselves and got the courage to take action after reading his book. Some people were inspired to go into politics and law to fix the system, others were motivated to simply change their behavior to be more empathetic and reach out to those who looked like they needed help.

It was funny, Shuichi thought, that he out of everyone had inherited Tomura’s dream, that he had been the one who finally spun that dream into reality, and did so by putting his own spin on it. It was funny, in a bittersweet sort of way.

Today was going to bring a break in that routine though. Today was the final day of his sentence. True, he got off a bit easier compared to what he feared would happen, but three years of time in a mental health facility followed by five years of book related “community service” under the watchful eye of the rehabilitation program created in the wake of the war was still quite a lot to go through. And after this final book signing event was over, he could take his book royalties and walk out into the world without any further consequence. He could consider himself a free man.

The fans came, they were greeted, they laughed, they cried, they commiserated, they praised, they got their books signed, they left. Over and over until finally there was only one guest left.

The guest had shoulder length black hair that was half up in a bun even messier than Himiko’s had been, and Shuichi could tell it was dyed by the lighter roots. He was wearing a decent enough suit and a heavy coat on over that, with a flu mask covering his mouth. Still, the outfit did nothing to hide the vibes of anxiety this guy was exuding in spades.

“Hi, nice to meet you,” Shuichi greeted him, “Who should I make this autograph out to?”

“Hmm, oh no name don’t put a name I’m… not sure what my name is,” the guest physically winced at his own unconvincing excuse.

“Ok, I’ll address it to ‘schmoopy’. That’s your name now.”

Schmoopy looked bewildered but also a bit amused, so Shuichi gave himself an internal pat on the back for getting the guest to chill.

“I have questions.”

Shuichi looked up from the book he was signing, “What kind of questions?”

“Several.”

“…Ok, shoot.”

“The parts with Tomura Shigaraki read like a love story. Was that intentional?”

Shuichi was glad he was already finished with signing the book, because he knew he would’ve accidentally destroyed the autograph if he’d been asked this in the middle of it.

“Well, not at first.”

Schmoopy’s raised eyebrow indicated he was surprised that Shuichi didn’t deny the claim, so he began to explain.

“When I first started trying to write this story, I had actually intended it to be this grand immortalization of Tomura’s philosophy on how ‘hero society needs to be demolished in order to reject it the same way it rejects those who can’t fit into the roles it needs’. So like Destro’s Manifesto Part 2: Electric Boogaloo. Of course that’s not what came out, because that was a terrible idea and I couldn’t write that if I tried. What I found much easier to write about was just the story of our journey together. How we all met, when and how we became friends, what fights we got into and who we lost along the way, how we fought back and what we gained out of it. Writing about my friends helped me process everything, let me reminisce on the time we spent together but also grieve their passing. And well, that’s how I ended up realizing what story genre my bond with Tomura would’ve matched the best.”

“A romance?” probed Schmoopy.

“Yeah,” Shuichi replied fondly before continuing, “It wasn’t until I was able to lay it all on paper that I understood what direction our relationship was heading. Our first time playing video games, how quickly we became attached to each other within the following weeks, the emptiness I felt and how Tomura’s response was to quickly empathize with me, my promise to support him, his eagerness to show me he was worth supporting, the lengths each of us went through to make the other’s dream come true,” here Shuichi’s voice wobbled before he steadied himself, “and how he dedicated his final words to me. Each individual moment was precious on its own, but altogether it became an obvious love story. I didn’t set out to write a romance, I just happened to have found one after it had already ended.”

“I’m sorry,” Schmoopy consoled.

“It’s okay,” Shuichi placated, “With how I grew up I thought I’d never be loved at all. It’s not the best outcome, but I’m glad to know that someone loved me truly, and loved me as much as I loved them in return.”

Schmoopy paused for a moment, and Shuichi wondered if he’d said too much, but the guest pressed on with another question.

“Ok, next one. Considering everything that happened, from meeting the league, befriending and falling in love with Tomura, and knowing the tragic ending of it all… would you do it again?”

“Yes. I mean hypothetically speaking, if I got thrown back in time to the moment I first met my friends and I could use what I know now to affect the outcome, then I absolutely would. I’d bond with them sooner, take more detours for side missions that didn’t add much to our progress but were fun to do anyway. I’d make more time to just hang out with Tomura and enjoy that time together, maybe figure out my feelings for him sooner. Maybe I’d even be able to convince Tomura not to get the sketchy surgery that caused everything to go downhill, to ease himself into getting more power. Who knows how society would’ve turned out if that was the route we took. But, even if I couldn’t change anything, I’d still do it all again. After all, it’s just even more time I would get to spend with the people who mattered to me the most, and with the guy who loved me best.”

Schmoopy’s mouth quivered and his eyes got watery, quite emotionally touched by that answer. “Sorry,” he apologized as he wiped his sleeve across his face, “got stuff in my eye.”

“Is it tears?”

“Oh shut up”, he snorted while continuing to vigorously rub the mess off of his face, his mask getting pushed around from how hard he was scrubbing, “I’ve got one final question.”

“Sure, take your time…” Shuichi said, then promptly became speechless as Schmoopy dropped his arm. The coat sleeve was covered in make up and the face mask had fallen off.

Schmoopy’s face was covered in golden cracks -no wait, they were healed over scars- making him look like a kintsugi masterpiece.

Schmoopy’s scars were most prominent around his eyes, but the largest two were almost identical scratches on his right eye and left lip.

Schmoopy also had a mole below the right side of his mouth and red eyes that shined with determination.

Schmoopy was Tomura Shigaraki, the love of his life.

“Final question. Now that your sentence is over and the statute of limitations of my crimes passed, would you maybe want to run away with me?”

There were many plans that had to be changed, backups to backups that were implemented, but Kurogiri’s portal appearing in the Sky Coffin and dropping a braindead Spinner onto the ground before going haywire around the area was not a “planned for” scenario.

“Yes!” gloated All For One as he watched the heroes expressions turn from determination to horror, many panicking as they got caught and relocated around the death trap by the erratic portals.

“It’s just as I’ve told you pathetic heroes, the deck is stacked in my favor!” He turned and used his ward’s power to throw yet another amorphous mass of fingers and hands at his opponents, Spinner’s unresponsive body now in his sights, “It’s always been stacked in my favor!”

And that was all the villain could say before his body suddenly burst apart.

The visual could only be likened to that of a butterfly ripping its cocoon apart, desperate to break free. And from the ruptured cocoon of All For One rose Tomura Shigaraki, liberated of his master’s possession and using his first unrestricted action to dash towards Spinner.

Still in shock from the rapid changes in fight’s pace, it took Deku a moment to spring back into action and he quickly used blackwhip as an attempt to restrain Tomura. Unfortunately, Deku seemed to have underestimated Tomura’s determination to reach his destination as he didn’t stop running and Deku was swiftly yanked off his feet and dragged along the ground, only given respite when Tomura dropped to the ground himself to pull his ally into his arms.

“Spinner what the fuck happened to you?! Say something!”

Deku unburied his face from the dirt just in time to see Tomura place his hands on his ally and… stay still and wait for something to happen?

“What are you trying to do?” Deku demanded incredulously.

“Apparently your job,” the villain snarked back as he scanned the battlefield, pausing long enough in Eraserhead’s direction for Deku to realize that his teacher had regained control and was preventing Tomura from using his quirk. Tomura snarled in frustration before whipping his head towards his former caretaker and screaming, “Kurogiri help! Block Eraserhead’s view, get him out of here! I can’t cast healing on Spinner while he’s using his quirk!”

“Healing? What healing?” Deku asked, genuinely baffled at the concept of the most destructive villain he knew having new healing abilities, “Since when could you heal?”

“Since I decided to take the overload of quirk mods out of my player 2 and switch it out with my master’s regeneration quirk until he’s freaking stable!” Tomura shrieked, his red eyes flashing with an intensity that made Deku realize this really wasn’t some weird All For One clone anymore, this was the real Tomura Shigaraki, the one he wanted to save but still had legitimate apprehensions for.

“My team doesn’t have healers, and I’ll be damned if I don’t get some kind of use out of my master’s garbage ‘quirk and vestige’ package deal. I don’t care how badly you wanna drag me backwards into the fray, you’ll either help me save my friend quickly so we can continue our fight or you’ll sit down and patiently wait for your turn to die!”

“Okay fine,” Deku agreed, “Mr. Aizawa, let Shigaraki do his thing!”

“WHAT?!” cried the dual voices of his enemy and ally.

“You want help with saving an ally, fine! But try anything else and I’ll enact every vengeful thought I’ve had about you since I saw my best friend’s body lying on the ground!”

“… Fair enough,” Tomura growled, deciding to keep a retort about how said “best friend” was literally undergoing surgery anyway to himself. He waited, and within a few moments that felt like hours, he heard the telltale sound of a warpgate whisking Eraserhead off somewhere else in tandem with the rush of his master’s quirk working to clean up the mess that was made of his closest friend.

The visual below him could only be likened to that of a reptile shedding their skin, ridding itself of dead weight and ready to start anew. And from the pile of hardened scales that had fallen off awoke Spinner, his blank eyes returning to their original rosy color as he blinked back into awareness… and then overflowing with tears as he began to sob uncontrollably.

“Sorry, ‘m sorry,” Spinner blubbered.

“Hey don’t do that, you’re fine,” Tomura soothed, carefully wiping Spinner’s tears with his usually deadly hands, “What’re you even apologizing for?”

“I tried to follow All For One’s guidance, fill in the role he gave me so I could make your dream a reality. But I couldn’t do it, I couldn’t lead the team I was given. All I could do was throw myself at Kurogiri and beg him to keep you safe before it all went to black. Even with all the extra mods, I still couldn’t follow through on my end. Should’ve known that potato head was lying when he said ‘everyone can be somebody’s hero’, because I sure can’t!”

While Deku recoiled in shock at the subject of heroes being brought up now of all times, Tomura merely sighed, then leaned back just enough to take off the red cloth wrapped around his neck before closing the distance once more to bundle Spinner within it. Noticing someone shift from behind, Deku chanced a glance and saw Mirio looking shaky yet restrained. He hoped he’d be able to ask what shook him up later.

“Well, you’re right about All For One being full of shit. Still, haven’t I told you before? You don’t need to have every skill maxed out, and you don’t need to apply half a dozen strength mods. You don’t need to do anything grandiose or push yourself into a role that you can’t handle. Your loyalty and friendship are enough. It’s helped me through every fight we’ve been in, and didn’t you just admit that you powered through a quirk overload to free Kurogiri for my sake by sheer willpower? You’ve already saved me, you’re already my hero.”

Spinner let a few more tears drip down his face as he listened to the praise, then he let his body relax fully into Tomura’s embrace, using his snout to nuzzle his friend’s face with Tomura gladly returning the gesture.

In the background, Deku watched as Kurogiri settled down with the help of his old friends, pro heroes began to band together to treat each other’s wounds, and his fellow students milled around providing aid where needed. As the silence stretched on and the full weight of what everyone had witnessed was processed, that the villains who were labeled as most monstrous were capable of extraordinary compassion and tenderness, all who had considered themselves heroes turned inward to reflect, unsure of where they could or should go from here.

“Sometimes when I’m trying to calm down, I’ll count your scales,” Tomura Shigaraki blurted.

“You do?” asked Spinner.

“Yeah,” Tomura Shigaraki replied.

Well, the Tomura Shigaraki in this memory he meant, not the actual one who was watching the scene too. Izuku was still trying to wrap his head around the dual memory-sharing shenanigans that had taken over this battle, but unlike many of the other scenes from Shigaraki’s life, this memory seemed to truly put the fight on hold.

“I’m the kind of guy who tends to get stuck on what makes me upset,” Memory Shigaraki explained to Spinner, “The second something goes wrong or I have to deal with some rage-inducing bullshit, I can’t stop thinking about it even after it’s over and done with. I’d bet good money on it starting with Master’s insistence that I hold all my negative emotions and experiences close to my heart.”

“The fuck kind of advice it that?” Memory Spinner remarked, and Izuku had to agree with him on that point. If that’s how Shigaraki was raised, then it was no wonder he became a walking “ball of hate”, and Izuku feared about what else All For One filled his head with.

“Kept me alive and kicking out of pure spite when I was younger at least,” Memory Shigaraki placated, as if that made it any better, “But yeah, not as useful when trying to manage other people just as messed up as I am.”

“I know the league is weird, but hey!” Memory Spinner reacted, pretending to be more offended than he actually was.

Memory Shigaraki let Spinner have his fun before he got back to the topic at hand, and Izuku couldn’t help but notice the difference between the maniacal smile Shigaraki always wore in battle and the small yet warm one on his face in this memory.

“Kurogiri used to encourage me to count floorboards or snack wrappers when I’d get in a really bad mood, called it ‘grounding’ or something. And I guess at some point after leaving the old bar I found myself counting your scales instead.”

“Well, does it help?” Spinner probed.

“I’d say so,” Memory Shigaraki gladly answered. “The number of floorboards and trash was finite, but I haven’t been able to finish counting your scales. The fact that their iridescence can be easily distracting when they reflect whatever light source is around helps too, makes me lose count ‘cause I get sidetracked while committing the sight to memory.”

Memory Spinner blushed at that but didn’t turn away, leaving Izuku to question if it meant Shigaraki eliciting that kind of response from Spinner was a regular occurrence.

“… Is my body really that nice to look at?”

“I think you’re a nice sight in general. So, I guess what I mean to say is that I could look at you forever.”

Well shoot, now Izuku was blushing in second-hand embarrassment.

“Thanks,” Spinner beamed, “You’re nice to look at too.”

“Objectively wrong but okay.”

Izuku watched the two lean into each other as they burst into laughter, the joyful sounds slowly fading away along with the scene.

“I was still trying to count all of them you know,” Tomura broke the silence. The hero turned to look at him, the real Tomura, taking in the fond expression on his face... only to watch in alarm as it changed into one of remorse. It was all he could do to not breakdown with Tomura as a cascade of all the tears he’d never cried dripped down his face.

When Tomura Shigaraki came back to himself, his mind was achy from his mater’s reveal, his voice was hoarse from screaming, his body was scattered to the wind with barely any pieces left, and to his surprise the woman who everyone called his grandmother was holding him in her muscular arms. While he appreciated the sentiment, he couldn’t help but wish a certain someone he actually got along with (and who’s arms held the same strength) was comforting him, instead of this hero lady he’d never met but who dictated his fate in absentia.

“I know you’re not happy to see me,” Nana said, “But I hope you’re willing to put up with me long enough to keep you alive. One For All and All For One did quite the number on you, the quirk and the man I mean.”

“If you call getting smashed into bits and having my entire worldview torn into just as many pieces ‘having a number done on me’,” Tomura sarcastically threw back, “Then I’d hate to see what you’d consider to be worse!”

“No, no, I’m not sure anyone could’ve survived that combination. But you’re not just anyone, are you?” Tomura started at that, but his grandmother gently aimed his face to look at her sincere -and maybe proud?- expression as she continued.

“You’ve been through so much, you’re so very strong. And even with everything All For One has put you through, all the lies he spun and all the strings he pulled to mold you into what he wanted, you still managed to untether yourself enough to find your own goal and make your own connections. You found friends, and you dedicated your aspirations to them. You loved them, you helped them. It’s not what I’d call hero work, but in a vacuum I can’t deny it’s heroic. I only wish someone better could’ve been around to guide you, so you had the opportunity to try your brand of heroism, and for that I am sorry.”

Tomura was speechless at the apology that came two decades too late, but when he thought about it, he was -begrudgingly- at least a little bit glad someone had finally told him that not only could he be a hero after all this time, but that he was a hero for the people who mattered to him the most (and if it also flew in the face of everyone who wanted him to fail then that made it all the better).

“Wait,” Tomura asked, horror taking over as an idea of starting to dawn on him, “how the hell do you know any of that?”

“Well,” Nana squirmed, “we are currently in a vestige world residing in your mind, and you’ve got a lot stored up in here. What you’ve touched, what you feel, what you’ve destroyed, what you create, what you hate, what you love…”

“Oh no, please tell me you didn’t see anything weird.”

“Of course not,” Nana reassured, “Falling in love with a close friend isn’t weird at all.”

“Grandma!”

“I can see why you adore him, such a sweet and earnest boy.”

“Grandma!”

“And beautiful eyes and scales to boot.”

“Grandma!

“Sorry, sorry, I can’t help it,” she snickered in a way that betrayed she wasn’t sorry at all, “It’s just that I can understand how you fell for him, after all I fell in love with your grandfather in very similar circumstances.”

“… Grandpa tied with you in Smash Bros after joining your criminal organization, then endeared himself to the point you didn’t think twice about wiping Mount Fuji off the map for him?”

“No not like that,” she corrected, “We started as friends too, but our shared love was astronomy instead of video games. One time he blind-folded me and had me use my quirk with him steering, and when the blind fold was off, I realized he floated me into an area of sky with zero light pollution, just in time to watch the nova explosion of T Coronae Borealis. My impulsive ass proposed to him on the spot, skipped the dating phase entirely.”

Tomura went bug-eyed at that, but didn’t interrupt as Nana continued to reminisce, “You know, even when we exchanged our vows and eventually had your father, I knew that marrying him automatically put a target on his back. It was only a matter of time before he would get caught in the crossfire of my line of work, and in the end, even all the safety measures we took didn’t keep him safe, but I entangled us anyway. I figured that a life with him in it, however tragic and brief, was worth living more than one where I never knew just how loved and cherished I could be. Especially if that meant I could give that same amount of love back to him.”

“…Grandma,” Tomura mused, “I feel like you’re trying to tell me something.”

“I think you might’ve inherited that outlook from me,” Nana suggested, “Seeing as you were initially on the fence about undergoing the shadiest surgery known to man for the sake of power, only to decide it was worth it literally moments after your sweetie confessed that he ‘loved those warped horizons you made’, thinking that a power upgrade was just what you needed to make him even happier! You’re just as impulsive and intense when it comes to love as I was!”

“Don’t call Spinner ‘my sweetie!’ We didn’t even get the chance to pick out pet names!” Tomura cringed, then cringed harder and pouted after realizing he outed himself.

“Well, maybe you’ll get that chance,” Nana supposed, surprising Tomura with her switch to a serious tone.

“My hands, my son’s hands, your family’s hands have been holding you back for so long. So please, let me use my hands properly this time,” she whispered, moving her arms to cradle him a bit more firmly now that he wasn’t falling apart at the seams, “Let me be the hands that hold you together, that push you forward, that guide you as you take your next steps, and support you now when you need help the most.”

As she spoke, Tomura felt multiple hands slightly nudging him. Looking down, he watched as the other vestiges of One For All pressed the gathered up pieces of him together. A man wearing goggles on his head held one leg, another with a high-collared jacket handled the other. He watched as arms were positioned by two men in similar-looking combat gear, his torso aligned with his head by someone with cracks running down his face.

Once every particle was in its place, a vestige that appeared remarkably similar to Tomura placed his hands over the cracks on his chest, and suddenly that crack began to heal. The cracks did not disappear, but instead were welded together, leaving golden scars in their place. As the other vestiges repeated the process on the rest of his body, Tomura noticed a golden, foggy vestige carefully fusing each finger of his destructive hands to his palms, thankfully without the telltale holes of All For One’s quirk, but also saw that vestige slowly grow dimmer with every piece he fixed.

“You’re not really making them all give up their souls and fade away just to keep my destructive ass alive…” Tomura joked as he turned to his grandmother, who he realized was also fading away as his peripheral vision took on more of a golden hue, “…are you?”

“It’s a shame you think destroying is all you can do, when you know that you’ve had a fair share of creating things too,” Nana remarked, “and I’m willing to bet that the bonds you created with your friends are something not even your hands can obliterate.”

Tomura knew he couldn’t say a thing to disprove that statement, he wouldn’t even dare to entertain the thought of purposefully getting rid of them. “I can’t promise I won’t start another fight when I wake up, especially not if my friends are the ones in trouble. Sorry grandma.”

“That’s alright,” Nana chuckled, the grin on her face identical to the maniacal one Tomura sometimes saw in the mirror, “What kind of Shimura’s would we be if we didn’t act intensely for the people we love, just as intensely as we love them in the first place? Can you promise me something else then?”

“Depends, what is it?”

Nana bent down to whisper in her grandson’s ear, and though her final request made his face erupt into a blush, he readily agreed as they faded into darkness and whatever lay beyond this realm.

Spinner’s claws tapped on the screen as he typed, the sharp ends scratching the screen protecter ever so slightly as they dragged across with each symbol. he was hunched over at the end of the scrappy couch provided in the base. His phone was open on the note's app, typing his heart out on the multi paged note. “Whatcha’ got here?” Shigarakis gravelly voice taking his attention from the phone, quickly flipping it face down on his chest as he jumped, his tail straightening stiff to the side of him.

“Jesus fucking Christ dude, you scared me asshole!” Spinner sneered as he lifted his phone the slightest, quickly swiping the tab away before the other could continue his questioning. “Just, updatin’ my grocery list. . hell do’ya care.” He huffed, shoving his phone to the side.

“Didn’t look like a grocery list, you swiped it away, you're a damn liar” Tomura accused, his gaze glaring at the scaled man who coiled up at the stare. Pressing closer he reached over, attempting to yank away the others phone.

“Aye’ fuck that! Don’t go reaching for my phone shits mine!” Spinner held on to the device tightly against his chest. “Ever heard of fuckin’ personal space?!” He growled out as the other tugged. Tomura bent more, lifting a leg over the arm rest of the couch as he hunched over the other, his gloved hands thumbling over spinners own, attempting to hold a grip on the slippery surface.

“I’m curious! Plus who wouldn’t be when you swiping the damn tabs away! And I’m your boss I can take what I want ya’ damn dino!” Tomura reasoned before flipping to the other side of the couch, turning to grab again as they played a game of tug of war, Tomura slowly winning with his cheating tactics. Kicking the others snout up with a socked foot he finally took a grip of the device, yanking it to himself as he shouted with victory. “Weak!”

“You fuckin’ put your smelly ass foot in my face! And stop calling me that!” The other whined before he lunged over attempting to take back what was his before Shigaraki kicked him back again, pinning him against the other side of the cough with his foot. “Fine!” The man huffed, “Fine, fine! You don’t even know the password so why are you even bothering!” He grinned, thinking that his ass was saved before his shoulder slumped, the rest of his body freezing as the other twirled the phone, showing the home screen.

“Two, nine, one, four, four, three, seven,” Tomura's mouth quirked into a cocky grin as he twirled the device again. Holding it haphazardly before he continued. “When typed out is somewhat resembles gamer tag ‘Spinner’. And before you ask, I know it because I’ve watched you put it in multiple times before, and I got a good memory,” The man explained, then slightly flexed as he swiped around trying to find the notorious notes app.

“Fucking shit give me back my phone!” Spinner relented again, though before he was able to lunge forward, he was again pinned back by the others feet which pressed onto his chest. Shuichi fought back, his legs kicking at the other who failed to falter.

“Finally found the damn app the amount I see you typing around on this thing shouldn’t it be on the damn home screen?” He huffed, scrolling though the notes. There were multiple ones, all labeled with their desired purpose. One with passwords which Tomura quickly noted, memorizing the few phrases that showed before scrolling up more. His past said grocery lift, empty cept’ for ‘Digiorno pizza’, definitely not the multitude of paragraphs he saw before when he creeped over the others shoulder. “So, Digiorno frozen pizza aint’ fuckin’ equivalent to a multi pages worth of paragraphs, so explain to me again why you lying to me Gecko boy?” Tomura teases, his cocky grin still decorating his face.

“Don’t call me that. . “Spinner grumbled, a scowl upon his face, “And stop looking around in there! It’s private!” He huffed, already making up a new plan to defeat his tormentor. Quickly grabbing the others legs, folding them up before he lunged again, though finally succeeding, grabbing a hold of the phone.

“Aye! I aint’ done yet!” Tomura pushed back, violently turning his body yanking the phone away, making up a new game plan to avoid his enemy, before deciding the move was to now stun and trap him instead. Quickly Tomura jumped forward, crashing down on spinner, making them both fall flat onto the cushions. Wrapping his arms and legs around the scaled man, trapping the others arms to his sides restraining him, he laughed. “This is all you can give? Pathetic,” He mocked, holding the phone to the side slightly, though he made sure that his arms were still tight against the others torso.

Spinner's face flushed, the others head resting atop of his clothed chest, a top of his heart, that was faltering with every breath. “Fuck off! Just let off!” He whined, trying his best to wiggle out of the hold to no avail. The blue haired man just grinning as he went back to the note's app.

“Alright then, let's get back to this hm?” He hummed, passing over a few more before finally finding the one he was looking for. It was labeled ‘Thoughts’ taping on it he could tell how long it was, about five pages worth of words typed out by his scaled friend. “What’s this? Your diary?” Tomura chuckled, enjoying the other become flustered.

“Dude! Please don’t read that shit! And it aint’ a diary asshole, just don't read it!” Spinner pleaded, trying to wriggle out of his confinement. Though all it did was just make the other laugh more, already reading the first paragraph.

“Ahem. . “ He made the dramatic throat clearing before he started to read off the screen. “Fuck he yelled today, his words were raspy and gravelly. The others were mocking him but I really was just paying attention to how his lips seemed to move and mold into shapes at every syllable. His lips are cracked but it just looks like they are more interesting and. . .” Tomura furrowed his brows, looking back at the man beside him. He was flushed a dark orange, his lips quivering. He looked down to the side refusing to meet the others eye. Tomura continued to read. “The texture would be more curious and interesting, really what I want to feel is the scar, the little gap between the lips of missing tissue that tapered off into a faint scar. Wish I could put my claw up to it and trace down every plane of it,”

Spinner was literally shaking, his tailed coiled up as his heart was beating the speed of light. The man above him, scrutinizing the text, re reading the first entry, glancing down at him every so often. Then he scrolled down to another. “I think my favorite color is red now, I was staring into his eyes, it reminded me of a boy trying to catch his dream when he talked, how he explained everything that he wanted. His eyes are like little dark rubies, they are glazed just slightly. He has monolids, though damaged where his other scar lies on his left eye, revealing more of the whites of his eyes then a regular person. A small mole peppered below his right, like the bottom of his lip. Marks of irritations framed the top half of his face, it’s a pretty thing. I want to be right there, close up, see how much they widen as I stare into them,” Tomura hummed slightly, tilting his head as he looked back down at his rather large gecko. He scrolled more, reading them to himself.

“His hair is rather soft looking, it has small clumps here and there, and sometimes I think he needs to brush it more, sometimes when I see him turn the back of his hair moves less elegantly than the front, I want to be able to sit him down, to bring a brush and slowly brush all the knots and tense from the day before, to have my hand by his necks, scratching at his scalp ever so slightly. I wish to put muzzle within the fluff to feel the locs against my cold scales.” Tomura clicked his tongue, unclasping his arm from the other, reaching to the back of his head, his fingers slowly combing through the strands. Before quickly he scrolled down, passing all of the rest to the most recent one, ready to read it out loud.

“He passed out during the mission yesterday. . I was the one tasked with bring him back to base, and to take care of his injuries at hand, also to wake him up with some smelling salts. I was able to lay him down on the couch, he looked kind of peaceful, really the only injury was a few bruises, the only reason him passing out being the lack of sleep and numerous days of work. I know it was dangerous and probably stupid but I grabbed his hand, I was sure only four of his fingers were touching me at all times, but I did feel his hands, slightly interlocking my freakish-” Tomura scowled before reading the rest. ‘Fingers with his, they were long and bonier than mind, but his knuckles were more flushed, and his palms softer. I only had my hand there for a minute I promise.’

Spinner laid their silently, his body stiff, his face was still flushed, though he shut his eyes closed tightly. The corners of his mouth still quivering with fear and embarrassment. His tail was rolled up between his legs as he cowered under the others gaze. “Shuichi,” Tomura started, placing the phone to the side as he crawled further up the other, feeling him shiver. “Open your eyes,” he pleaded in a whisper, the other opening up at the beg. Staring into the face he described in much detail within those rants, the one he felt was as lovely as a sunset, or dusk. One he described over and over, in other unread feelings.

“Okay in all seriousness can one of you tell me what day it is?!” Tomura shouted in dismay. All he got as a response was getting grabbed from behind by Endeavor and subsequently being incinerated.

He knew something must’ve gone wrong with the surgery, his body was falling apart when he should’ve been able to regenerate, heroes were surrounding him on all sides when his return to consciousness should’ve been a surprise, and the Doctor had never mentioned his master’s voice being stuck in his head as a potential side effect.

That voice was getting louder now, now that he was trapped in Endeavor’s death-grip and suspended in the sky while his younger nemesis was getting dragged away by the kid he thought he could recruit. Now that all the previously laid plans had fallen apart.

“Lend me your body,” his master’s vestige implored. “Let me fight on your behalf. You don’t have as much experience with these quirks as I do. I can take care of this battle, end your suffering, while you recover in our new vestige realm. All you need to do is switch places with me, allow me to take control.”

As the fire burned, and the targets escaped, and his condemnation of society’s failings fell on deaf ears, it became harder for Tomura to resist All For One’s request. Everything that could go wrong had done so, maybe his master could make them right, as he had always done before.

All For One reached out his hand, Tomura reached back…

Then the ground began to shake.

Then a roar he had become accustomed to several months ago bellowed in the distance, echoing across the battlefield.

Then he saw Gigantomachia hurtling towards him from the east.

But most importantly, on top of Machia’s head, he saw Spinner.

Spinner, who was clutching Machia’s mane for dear life, likely only able to keep his place by using his quirk.

Spinner, who’s bandanas and scarves whipped around his head such that they kept whacking him in the face.

Spinner, who in spite of that had an unremovable expression of relief and joy, and Tomura knew it was because they were reuniting.

Spinner, who (pardon Tomura’s misuse of language reserved for only the “holiest do-gooders” of creatures) looked every bit like an angel arriving to deliver Tomura salvation with the still-rising sun blazing behind him, blinding any hero who turned to look.

Endeavor’s hold on him loosened just slightly as he too flinched from looking directly at the sun, and it was enough to allow Tomura to slip out of his hold and dart downwards, briefly landing the ground below just long enough to properly aim towards his allies and launch himself back into the sky to meet them halfway.

Away from the heroes who couldn’t be bothered to listen, away from the adversary that had been decided by the chance of a quirk, away from the hand of his master whose voice was now drowned out by the overwhelming need to reach his league instead, to reach his allies.

A need overwhelming enough that Tomura forgot to brace for the landing and ended up tumbling into an undignified heap. Oh well, at least he made his friends laugh.

“Do you have any idea how early you are?!” Spinner yelled as he ran to where Tomura was sitting up.

“Nooooope,” Tomura replied, letting Spinner help him up before pulling his closest friend into a hug, “But I missed you anyway so it’s fine, right?!”

He could feel Spinner grin into his neck as he nuzzled it, and feel the tension leave both of their bodies as the stress of separation melted away.

Before the surgery, Spinner had once told Tomura that he was his horizon, although he didn’t use those words exactly. Until now, Tomura hadn’t completely grasped the sentiment. But seeing Spinner for the first time in months, rising against the sky and lighting up the horizon with nothing more than his presence and tooth-filled smile, Tomura believed he understood now.