Tomura Shigaraki was a spoiled child.

Well, in his case rather a spoiled young adult - which was even worse in a way, because no one could force him to correct his shortcomings.

As soon as he returned from his first mission - something so simple in theory that the professor had helped him set it up - he holed up in his room and didn't say a word to anyone.

“Tomura" Black Mist called as he passed by. “At least let the doctor take care of you-”

Shigaraki slammed his door and threw himself onto his bed, burying his head under his pillow. With one hand, he continued to tear at the skin on his neck, shreds of flesh and drops of blood falling onto his dirty sheets, and with the other, he fumbled for something he was sure he'd left here before he left. His fingers curled around a cold console and he turned it on, the artificial light of the game screen illuminating his dry, cracked skin. He loaded one of his saves and began to play again, the poor graphics and the usual music gradually soothing him.

Tomura didn't play many games as he wasn't the patient type and tended to have a nervous breakdown if he couldn't complete a level the first time.

However, this game was easy and he had completed it hundreds of times before; playing it was a routine exercise, something that calmed him down when - like today - things didn't go as he had planned.

Sometimes Tomura hated the hole, even though he could do whatever he wanted in it. When he used the Internet and saw what everyone else his age was doing - going to school, having family and friends, smiling a lot without worrying about what would happen tomorrow - he had the urge to do like them, to leave the hole and live in the light. As soon as he imagined himself up there, under the sun and surrounded by lots of people, Tomura felt scared. The world - and all the possibilities it offered - was a scary place.

In the hole, on the other hand, there was his room, his games, the teacher and Black Mist.

Tomura went through the levels with ease, his worries receding to the back of his mind. Gradually he stopped scratching his throat, his breathing became even.

The TV in his room turned on.

Tomura didn't have to turn his head to see who was on it or what it was waiting for.

“Don't beat yourself up too much, Tomura," the teacher began with a soft voice. "It was only your first attempt, therefore it's only natural that you failed"

“Someone cheated over there," the young man explained. That's why I didn't win.

“Is that so ? You know that All Might is the ‘final boss’, so-”

“No, not him. One of the students. A boy with red and white hair”

Tomura knew that he had aroused the professor's interest, because it took him a few seconds to ask the next question.

“And you say he cheated ? How, precisely ?”

His voice also sounded strange, not like usual.

“He did things he shouldn't have done. He- he-”

Thinking about him brought all the anger and frustration to the surface.

Words rushed out of the annoyed teenager's mouth.

“Take your time, Tomura. Take a deep breath and tell me what happened”

The boy inhaled and regained his composure.

Always start at the beginning, he reminded himself. What do I mean by the beginning?

“He was able to respond to Nomu's attacks. You told me it wasn't possible, that only All Might or a professional could do it," the boy reproached. “Does this mean that the Nomu was too weak ?”

“... It could mean many things, Tomura. And are you sure that the fact that he could react to the Nomu wasn't due to his Quirk ?”

“No, he could already use fire and ice. That would be too much”

This time, the professor said nothing for a long time, as if he was lost in thought.

Tomura felt his interest sparked: he wondered what could have made the professor so thoughtful when he was usually never surprised by anything.

“Thank you for this information, Tomura. Get some rest, you've earned it”

The boy sank back under his blankets, his Nintendo in his hands.

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*

Aside from the memories of my clone, what bothered me was the fact that no one was asking questions about the fate of the pink alien.

Since the USJ incident the day before, the class group had not stopped being disturbed by other students sending messages, emoticons, or gifs. Some congratulated each other on how well they'd fended off the villains, others thanked each other for saving their lives, and some even went so far as to brag about their heroic deeds.

Questions about the Acid Thrower were briefly summarized in three messages:

[ElectricInstallation] Does anyone know how Ashido is doing? She's not answering my messages.

[CheeseKiri] I think I heard the teachers say that she was really traumatized...

[ElMinétaure] It's Aizawa-sensei who must be traumatized. Did you see him on the stretcher ? There were four firemen just for him !

Then the conversation drifted off and I stopped following it: better not to be tainted by their stupidity.

Endeavor had more work than usual: Nezu needed his help to solve the investigation into the identity of the criminals or something like that. He'd left me home alone for the long weekend, forbidding me to set foot outside the house or he'd brand me with the Fantastic Four again.

Since I was past the age when having a bunch of Italian vampire bodyguards in suits was the height of fun, I acquiesced without the slightest objection.

Besides, our house had an indoor pool, a gym, and a private movie theater: I really didn't need to go anywhere.

In fact, I'd decided to take a break since my latest fuin project wasn't getting me anywhere: I had the idea to stop Midorya from harming me, but when it came to putting it into practice...

My entire desk was littered with sheets of paper covered with unfinished circles, themselves bound by illegible symbols without heads or tails. It had been three days since I'd tried to force myself to create a fuinjutsu seal that would allow me to restrain the other idiot; literally, I'd eaten, slept, and drunk nothing but fuinjutsu: my brain was a jam incapable of thinking further than its next action, and my hands shook the moment I held as much as a feather between my fingers.

Of course, there were reasons why I hadn't reached fuin level 6 yet: despite all my knowledge and years of experience, it was still beyond my abilities. I had mistakenly believed that fuinjutsu was like a computer language, and that after spending so much time mastering the basics and building up a few solid skills, I'd be able to do pretty much anything I wanted with it: I'd been wrong, and now I found myself contemplating the possibility of seeing the head of the fake protagonist with the horrible hair for at least the next two years of my life.

If I reveal the nature of his Quirk to All for One, would he kill him for me ?

It was a risky gamble: if All for One was indeed the end-game boss, giving him such an advantage would be compromising for me.

Unless I create the seal before informing him ?

But then I'd be right back where I started; I'd just have to kill Midorya myself.

My irritation level was rising fast, so I preferred to leave these thoughts for later: an interesting movie had just come out, and I really wanted to see it. It would take my mind off things.

So I spent my day with one hand in a tub of popcorn, the other in an ice cream bowl, and my eyes glued to the giant screen. The dark atmosphere of the movie and the excellent acting of the supporting cast had managed to excite me enough to activate my sharingan, making my immersion almost unreal.

“I am Vengeance" whispered the lead actor.

It was a visual, auditory, and metaphorical masterpiece: once the lead actor stepped on stage, he was all you could see. I had to follow in his footsteps and achieve such a level of presence in my everyday life: that way I'd be able to become the protagonist of my story.

The two hours passed quicker than I would have liked, and soon the lights in the room went back on. I picked up the empty jar of popcorn and went back to the main kitchen to get some more snacks.

If it had been difficult to find a single bag of popcorn in our kitchen full of fresh fruits and vegetables the first time, it was obviously even more difficult the second time.

I'd barely searched my fourth cupboard when I felt hope slipping away.

I might have to settle for eating carrots like a horse.

I turned a distracted ear to the footsteps and voices coming from the hallway.

My eyes left the cupboard for a moment to meet those of the useless white-haired thing that shared my blood.

“Oh. Shoto”

He was surprised, his smile frozen, his expression bored.

Behind him were two people with arms full of books, one of whom almost ran into him.

“Hmm” I grunted in response, my eyes returning to the cupboard I was crouching in front of.

Am I desperate enough to eat celery ?

“You didn't tell us you had a brother, Natsuo," the girl remarked in astonishment.

Natsuo ignored her, choosing instead - for some reason - to engage in a discussion with me:

“Shouldn't you be training under the aegis of the devil ?”

I put down the celery in my hand and slowly rose to my feet, this time making sure not to take my eyes off him, my irritation growing by leaps and bounds. It gave me a perfidious satisfaction to see that I was taller than him, if only by half a head.

“Say the one who's living off the devil's hooks”

Then I looked at his two minions and displayed the disdain I felt for their very existence.

“Let me remind you that we're not supposed to invite outsiders here”

Natsuo, embittered by my reminder of his own hypocrisy, tried to play it cool in front of his little comrades by minimizing my words with a wave of his hand:

“As if I give a damn”

He rolled his eyes and sat down at the kitchen table.

I saw the other two hesitate out of the corner of my eye; my attention hadn't left the being who shared my kinship, and I could only marvel at the extent to which the whole family situation had gone over his head. I opened my mouth to repeat what I'd said - more forcefully this time - but immediately closed it again.

Why was I being obstinate? He wasn't going to listen to me anyway. If I told him about the kidnappings and assassination attempts I'd endured most of my life, he'd think I was lying.

Did he know why I'd had to leave the country when I was ten ? Did he and his mother and sister even knew that I'd left the country at that time ?

Oh, and let them all die.

As if that would change anything to my life.

I closed the cupboard and walked out, hands in my pockets, deciding to buy some food.

I think the old man likes takoyaki...

*

Author's note :

Delayed chapter because Webnovel wasn't working. Problems of formatting on all the other websites that are now corrected.

Power stones goal : 215

P@treon : Nar_cisseENG where you can read up to 50 chapters ahead.

See you in the next update everyone !