Chapter Text
Is it wrong to enjoy being friends with a villain so much?
You know exactly who Tomura is destined to become, and yet, despite that knowledge, you just can’t bring yourself to push him away. You’re well aware of the fact that Tomura is far from pure. He’s already stained his hands, probably on more than one occasion by now. But the truth is, you don’t blame him. Not really. Not when you know who’s behind it all.
All For One.
It’s because of him. Because he’s deliberately molding Tomura, feeding his hatred, fanning the flames of his bitterness and rage. He’s raising Tomura into his perfect vessel, preparing him so that he can eventually take over his body. In canon, Tomura genuinely believed All For One cared about him. He respected him, admired him, trusted him, never realizing that his supposed mentor was also the one orchestrating so much of his pain.
That was canon, though.
And you’ve already established that you’re not in the regular timeline. You wouldn’t even be here otherwise, alive in this new world with a second chance. This time around, things don’t have to go the same way. This time, Tomura doesn’t need All For One to be his comfort. You can be that person instead. You can show him that there are things worth living for that extend beyond the destruction he so desperately craves.
You can do it.
You have to do it.
That’s what you tell yourself every time you hesitate. Every time you think about just how dangerous his Quirk is, how much devastation it could cause if you misstep. But Tomura was never the type to hurt people accidentally—aside from the one time his Quirk first manifested, back when he was a young child. Since then, he’s learned how to restrain himself. He’s learned how to be careful. Around you, you’ve noticed that he’s especially careful.
And if he’s careful, then you should be safe.
Probably.
“Ugh, solo queue is such trash,” Tomura groans into your ear. The sound of his voice filters through your phone speaker, paired with what you assume is the slam of his fist against his desk. You picture him hunched over a monitor, face twisted in frustration. “I keep getting dogshit teammates. I can’t carry this lobby. They’re just terrible.”
“That sucks,” you offer, voice soft, consolatory.
“Yeah, right,” Tomura sighs. “You probably think I’m stupid for complaining. You don’t even like games that much.”
“I do like games.”
“Really? But you’re so bad at them.”
“You can still like something even if you’re not good at it,” you point out.
That seems to give him pause. He doesn’t respond for a while, long enough that you almost think he hung up.
Finally, though, he mutters, “How? People are assholes. If you’re bad at something, they’ll make fun of you. If you don’t fit in, they’ll make fun of you. If anything about you seems even a little bit wrong, they’ll turn their backs on you. That’s just what people are like.”
This time, you’re the one who falls silent. The weight of his words makes your stomach tighten into a knot. It’s obvious what he’s referring to. His resentment towards society has been buried just under the surface this whole time, waiting for moments like this to seep through. He carries it with him every single day, those memories of abandonment and rejection etched so deeply into his heart that they’ve become part of who he is.
And you understand. You, of all people, understand far better than most.
Because you’ve been there too. You know exactly how it feels to be hated just for existing. To be cast aside by the people who were supposed to care about you. It’s suffocating. It’s lonely. It changes you.
But you also know that sometimes, good things happen. Sometimes, the world surprises you. Sometimes, you find love where you least expect it.
“Not everyone’s like that,” you say hesitantly, afraid that you might trigger his anger.
But he doesn’t get mad.
“Yeah, I know,” Tomura acknowledges. His voice softens in a way that makes your heart skip. “Not everyone. Not you.”
The compliment makes your chest feel light, almost fluttery, but it also fills you with pride. Pride that he already sees you as someone different. Someone good. Granted, you’re probably his only friend right now, maybe his only tether to anything remotely normal. That’s a lot to carry, but you’re glad. You’re immensely glad that you can be that person for him.
“Thanks,” you say, smiling even though he can’t see you. “But I know there are plenty of other nice people besides me. And I’m sure they’ll want to be friends with you too.”
Tomura snorts at that. “Yeah, sure.”
“I’m serious! Some people are mean, but other people are a lot more open-minded. It just depends. If you don’t give others a chance, you’ll never know, right? We probably wouldn’t have become friends if you hadn’t agreed to come eat ice cream with me. That was a choice you made.”
“I just wanted ice cream,” Tomura denies flatly.
You roll your eyes, even though he can’t see that either. You know there’s more to it than that. It wasn’t just about ice cream—it was about connection. It was about someone actually reaching out to him. It was about being offered kindness when he needed it most. Seeing that someone actually cared.
“Well, whatever the reason, I’m glad you agreed. Now we get to hang out together and have lots of fun,” you grin.
“Mostly because you’re weird. And a little clingy,” Tomura muses.
“How am I clingy?” you frown.
“I don’t know.” You imagine him shrugging. “I guess that wasn’t the right word. You just like to hug me a lot. I’m… not really used to it.”
“In a good way, though?”
“What?”
“In a good way,” you repeat. “As in, you’re glad that I’m hugging you? Or you wish I would stop?”
Silence, yet again. It stretches out even longer this time. So long that you actually start to worry he’s hung up again.
“Hello?” you prompt.
“It’s fine,” he answers hurriedly, noticeably flustered. “I wasn’t telling you to stop. It’s whatever. Not that big of a deal.”
A smile creeps onto your lips. He’s not admitting he likes it, not outright, but you can hear it in his voice. The faint embarrassment and the way he rushes his words is proof enough. And for someone like him, who hasn’t known real affection in years, even that small admission matters.
“Okay!” you chirp. “I’ll keep on hugging you then, because I like doing it.”
“Uh, sure,” Tomura mumbles, still embarrassed.
“By the way, should I download that game and play it with you? League of Legends? I’ve been watching videos so I kind of get how it works now. We can play together on the same team!”
Tomura groans. “No offense, [Name], but I feel like you’ll be even worse than the people I get in my lobbies.”
“Aw, that’s not true. We can talk to each other over voice chat and coordinate our attacks and stuff. If you play bot lane, I can support you.”
“Yeah, I’ll pass on that,” he sighs again.
Your brows scrunch up, but honestly, fair enough. Maybe you were getting too confident there. You've been able to befriend Shigaraki Tomura, but playing League of Legends is still too far out of your realm of capabilities, it seems. Still, it doesn’t matter. You’re already more than happy just talking to him like this. Just knowing that he trusts you enough to call you up, to vent about his frustrations, to let you hear his unfiltered thoughts.
It fills you with endless hope.
“Hey, Tomura?” you say, right as he’s in the process of starting up another game.
“Ugh,” he mutters. “Bastards banned my champ. What is it?”
“Um, I don’t know.” You shift slightly on your bed. “I just wanted to say that… if you’ve ever got something on your mind, something that’s really bothering you or making you upset, you know you can always be honest with me, right?”
This time, there’s no response. You can hear the frantic clicking of his keyboard, the soft thump of his mouse against the desk, his muttered curses under his breath—but nothing directed at you.
You wait.
And wait.
Then wait even longer.
You don’t think he’s purposely ignoring you. He’s probably just distracted, focused on the game that’s about to start, his mind pulled in two directions at once.
Still, you don't dare to ruin the moment by asking again.
The months drift by in a blur, but they aren’t empty. They’re filled with phone calls, with glowing arcade machines, with moments that seem so painfully ordinary on the surface but are everything to you. You keep in close contact with Tomura. He talks about games and random little frustrations, sometimes he even laughs, sometimes he falls into long silences where all you can hear is his shallow breathing on the other end of the line. Nevertheless, you treasure it all.
You meet up with him at the arcade whenever you can, cherishing every rare encounter. But no matter how much you want things to change between you, the distance remains. He never agrees to meet you anywhere else. He never tells you the truth about how he lives, never shows you the dark corners of his world. He never once accepts when you offer to let him stay with you, not even for a single night.
You tell yourself it makes sense. You care about him—you care so much—but maybe it’s for the better that he doesn’t say yes. You catch yourself sometimes, being too welcoming. Too reckless. And in those moments, you wonder if he might actually be protecting you by keeping that distance.
Because if All For One ever finds out about you?
The thought alone sends chills down your spine.
That vile man would never let Tomura keep something for himself. He would twist it, condition it, mold it into something that serves his desires. He’s already proven that countless times. He claims everything he does is for Tomura’s sake, but you know damn well that’s a lie. If he were to learn about you, about your family, about what you mean to Tomura, it probably wouldn’t end well.
So, yes. Maybe this distance isn’t rejection. Maybe it’s protection. Maybe, for once, Tomura just wants to have something untouched. Something of his own.
But then how the hell are you supposed to save him?
That question haunts you. The weight of it presses on your chest, and you have no real answer. All For One isn’t someone who lets go. He doesn’t yield or even fathom the concept of losing. He wants Tomura as his successor, wants to mold him into a vessel, and he won’t just step aside because you wish it so.
Yet still, you cling to hope. Because unlike canon, you have a head start. You have knowledge. You have time.
You have a chance.
And that’s worth everything.
That being said, your life doesn’t revolve purely around Tomura. You remind yourself of that often. You have your family—your beloved parents, whose kindness still overwhelms you sometimes, and Bitsy, your loveable furball who never fails to nuzzle against you at night. And to top it all off, you also have your dear friends.
One of whom just lightly tossed a rock against your window to catch your attention.
Is this like in those cliche romance movies, or something...?
The one who threw the rock is Katsuki, of course. He’s standing below your window with his arms crossed, impatience practically radiating from him. You slide the window open and blink down at him.
“Come outside,” he whispers.
You frown. “I can’t. It’s bedtime. My parents are going to sleep and I don’t want to keep them awake.”
“Who said they need to be awake? It’s called sneaking out,” he sighs, like it’s the most obvious thing in the world. “Obviously.”
Your frown deepens. “But I don’t want to sneak out.”
“Just do it,” he insists, tone turning sharp. “A bunch of others are going, too. Even De—Izuku is coming. Do you really want to be the only loser who stays behind?”
“How am I a loser for listening to my parents?” you ask, completely genuine.
Katsuki groans, dragging a hand through his hair. “Ughhh. Just shut up and come outside! Everyone’s waiting for us!”
You glance around your room, nerves bubbling in your chest. Your parents… they’ve never been anything but kind. They’ve never once raised their voices at you. The last thing you want to do is disrespect them. You’re not like a normal kid—you remember too much from your past life, and you’re mentally mature beyond your years. Gratitude is stitched into you like a second skin, especially considering what kind of parents you used to have before this. The idea of sneaking out feels like total betrayal.
“I really don’t want to upset my parents, though,” you say softly.
But Katsuki just glares up at you, stubborn as ever. He isn’t budging. And you know how this goes. Eventually, you’ll give in. You always give in when it comes to him.
With a reluctant sigh, you climb onto the window ledge. The familiarity of it hits you like a gut punch. Back in your old life, you climbed out of windows far too often. Shaking, sobbing, desperate to escape even if it was just for a breath of air. The motions are burned into your muscle memory.
Naturally, when you hoist yourself down with ease, Katsuki blinks in surprise.
“Since when are you athletic?” he frowns.
Oof. That stings.
"Since always," you say, but you can't help but smile, because in terms of intelligence? Yeah, you're pretty incredible for your age. In terms of athleticism, though... you've got a long way to go.
Regardless, Katsuki quickly brushes it off. “Anyway, let’s go!”
He grabs your hand and starts pulling you along. It’s only then that you realize you’re barefoot—but before you can say anything, you notice he brought a pair of slippers with him. The same pair you left at his house a while ago. He thrusts them at you without comment, like it’s no big deal. But it is. It’s thoughtful. Adorable, even.
It’s moments like these that make you forget how difficult he can sometimes (oftentimes) be.
Soon enough, you’re with the group of neighbor kids. And Katsuki wasn’t lying—Izuku is there, hovering nervously.
“Izuku?” you blink. “Are you sure you’re okay with sneaking out?”
“Y-Yeah,” he stammers, giving a weak smile. “It’s okay. My mom won’t get mad. She might just be, uh… a little worried.”
You can tell he doesn’t believe himself. He’s worried about upsetting her, but he’s here anyway. Trying to fit in, maybe. In this timeline, he isn’t an outcast to the same brutal extent, but kids still pick on him. Maybe he just wants acceptance. Although it's terrible that he even feels peer-pressured to agree to these sorts of things in the first place.
What you don't realize, however, is that he's not just here to try and fit in. He's here because he knew Katsuki would bring you along.
And he hates the thought of Katsuki always getting to spend more time with you than he does.
“Katsuki, where are we even going?” you ask, tugging on his hand. “What’s the point of this?”
“Aw, are you afraid of breaking the rules, [Name]? I didn’t realize you were such a baby,” one of the boys jeers.
You roll your eyes, but before you can speak, Katsuki shoves the boy back.
“Shut up,” he warns. “Don’t talk to her like that.”
“Katsuki, relax,” you sigh. “It’s not a big deal. And for the record, yes, I didn’t want to be here. Not because I’m a baby, but because my parents are really nice, and I don’t want them to worry about me.”
“Oh, right. You ran into a villain before. You never really told us that much about what happened, though. Was it scary? Did you think you were going to die—”
“Shut up,” Katsuki grits out, crimson eyes blazing.
The ferocity in his tone silences the boy instantly.
And so, the group moves on. Wandering through the streets, small and unsupervised, chasing the thrill of freedom. You know that kids get up to all sorts of nonsense together, and breaking the rules is supposed to be fun, in their eyes, but... still. You're a bunch of twelve-year-olds, for the most part. This doesn't seem like such a good idea. Especially when you remember what happened to you the last time you roamed around at night.
Without thinking, you reach for Katsuki’s hand again. Your fingers slip into his, and his eyes widen. But he doesn’t pull away. He just squeezes back, cheeks flushing red, and a small smile tugs at his lips.
This is meant to be a test of courage, from what you gather. A coming-of-age ritual, which is more common than most might assume. But the deeper into the night you go, the colder the air feels, and the more you shrink inside of yourself.
“Okay, um, I think we should head back now,” you say, voice meeker than usual. “It’s pretty cold out. And I’m worried something bad might happen.”
“What could even happen?” one kid laughs. He sticks a lollipop in his mouth—because yes, he did bring snacks with him—and flashes you a smug grin.“You’re not scared about running into a villain again, are you?”
Ice floods your veins. You are scared. Terrified, even. There's so much to celebrate in this new life of yours. You can't risk losing it here. You just can't.
But before you can even form any words, once again, Katsuki steps forward.
“Are you trying to piss me off?” he asks, eyes dangerously wide. “Hey. Didn’t you hear how I told that other guy to shut up? You think it’s funny how [Name] nearly died that time? You think that’s a joke?”
“Ugh, what’s your deal, Katsuki?” the same boy mutters. “You always do this. You always defend [Name] no matter what. It’s so annoying.”
Ah. Now, here’s an outcome you didn’t expect. In this life, Katsuki’s protectiveness of you changes everything. His status as the leader of all the neighbor kids is being challenged. They don't see him as the tough, brash character he was supposed to be. They think he's weak for sticking up for you. They don't respect him as much, but more importantly, they don't fear him.
But they're about to realize they've made a grave mistake.
“I see," Katsuki says, sounding eerily calm for several moments. Then, a disturbing smile spreads across his lips. "I'm gonna beat the crap out of you now, okay?"
Your eyes widen. “Katsuki, stop—!”
But he doesn’t stop.
Explosions form in the palms of his hands, and then he’s lunging straight towards the boy, forcing the lollipop to fly out of his hands. Katsuki throws him down, fists flying. At first it’s just a scuffle, but quickly it escalates, getting worse, and worse, and worse. The boy’s cries cut through the night air, his body going limp beneath Katsuki’s blows, and pure dread overtakes you.
No matter how many times you cry out to Katsuki, no matter how often you try to tug on his arms to pull him back, it doesn't work.
Wait, isn't this... dangerous? If he keeps going, if the boy's eyes keep turning more and more lifeless by the second, won't that mean—
“Cut it out.”
Your thoughts are abruptly interrupted by a layer of ice that spreads across the ground, almost too fast for your eyes to keep up with, and it freezes enough of Katsuki's body that he goes stiff, unable to move. The boy underneath him splutters, letting out a choked-out gasp, before he uses the last of his strength to pull himself to his feet and breaks out into a prolonged wail.
You feel terrible for him. Even though he mocked you for the villain encounter you suffered through, he's just a kid. He still hasn't developed enough maturity to know what should or shouldn’t be said. And he certainly doesn't deserve to be beaten within an inch of his life.
But you can't even focus on that right now. Your eyes have already drifted towards the sound of the new voice, towards where the ice spread out from.
And there—sitting on a bench with his shoulders hunched and a listless expression—is Todoroki Shouto.
He blinks dully, almost as cold as the ice itself. "Just stop. Are you an animal? You don't even know how to control yourself, and it's disgusting."
Katsuki locks eyes with him, still frozen. No words are exchanged aloud.
But in that moment, a mutual hatred is born.