Chapter 9: Broken [Long Chapter]

Confronted by a voice, Powder and Shigaraki were engulfed in fear and guilt. As they slowly turned to the figure's voice, what they saw froze them in place.

An older yet graceful woman stood in the doorway. Her auburn hair, streaked with gray, was pulled back hastily. Her eyes showed a faint hint of exhaustion, making it clear she had just woken up.

Shigaraki and Powder recognized her instantly. The woman in the doorway matched the face in the framed photos hanging on the walls; a once happy and loving mother now stood before them, worry and fears etched into her features as she silently took in the scene before her.

Her gaze flickered between the children. First, it landed on Powder, struggling to pull a bulging bag of scavenged items, then shifted to Shigaraki, whose tense and guarded posture seemed to shield the younger girl behind him. Her eyes swept over the once-cluttered room, now cleaned. She opened her mouth to break the tension,

"Sorry," her voice was hesitant yet oddly gentle. "I didn't mean to frighten you." A nervous laugh escaped her lips, betraying her unease. "In fact, you frightened me more."

Her tone softened further, and her eyes filled with concern. "I woke up to noises," she continued. At first, I was scared. But when I heard a child's voice… I thought maybe it wasn't something to fear." She tried to lighten the mood, but it did little.

She paused, her gaze resting on Shigaraki. Her expression shifted, and the worry gave way to something deeper, a quiet sadness. "I overheard… a bit of what you said," her voice betrayed her guilt for eavesdropping.

However, her words did not carry an accusation, only an aching empathy that felt like a weight pressing down on Shigaraki's chest.

The woman took a cautious step forward, her movements slow, deliberate. Her voice grew softer, almost maternal, as she gazed at the child with pale blue hair. "I heard you mention your family," she said carefully. "And about… killing them."

Shigaraki's breath faltered. His crimson eyes widened. He didn't think anyone else would overhear him; for a moment, he was fighting whether to silence her.

Beside him, Powder froze, her small hands clutching the strap of the heavy bag as she glanced nervously between him and the woman. Then she noticed Shigaraki was also frozen and tugged at his sleeve, awakening him from his darkening thoughts.

The woman seemed to realize her words were very blunt, so she raised her hands in a calming gesture, her voice steady despite the tension crackling in the air. "But…I don't think you wanted that outcome, especially with your magic," she said gently.

Her eyes glistened. "Magic can be unpredictable. It ignores rules and logic. I've witnessed it. I've been rescued by it. I can only envision how it can become something unmanageable. Now, I guess I have seen living proof."

Her words carried no condemnation, only heartbreak.

"The world was cruel to you… You were gifted with such a destructive one at such a young age." she continued, her voice trembling. "You're only just a boy, and now that same boy is trapped in a nightmare he didn't want to create. A nightmare that keeps pulling you back into it…" She faltered, her voice breaking as if she could feel his pain, then she firmed herself and spoke as a Mother. "If you were my son, I would want nothing more than to take that pain away."

She looked at Shigaraki with a light that hoped to push away all his darkness,

"And I would forgive you," she said softly, her voice cracking. "No matter what you've done. Because that's what mothers do, we forgive." 

A real brilliance seemed to shine on her in Shigaraki's eyes. His breathing was heavy, and his chest tightened as her words shattered the once carefully built armour he had surrounded himself with in the past four years.

He was no longer the pale blue-haired Shigaraki, rebuilt to destroy everything he touched.

No, now he was his mother's baby boy, the black-haired Tenko Shimura,

Her words, presence, and voice reached the core of who he had been before everything fell apart. 

Tears blurred his vision as the woman's face began to shift. Her features softened, transforming into the face he longed to see most in the world.

"Tenko," his mother whispered gently, her tone as soft and warm as the summer breeze that seemed to linger in his memory.

"Mom," he choked out, the word slipping past his lips before he could stop it. It was fragile, trembling with a longing so deep it wanted to unravel his very being completely. At this moment, he wished to run in her arms and vent all his hardships.

The room was silent; only the word "Mom" lingered. Powder and the Woman's breathing were heard but for different reasons.

Powder froze, her wide eyes darting between Shigaraki and the woman. Her instinct was to reach out, to wake him from whatever spell he seemed trapped in. 'Shigaraki, this isn't your mother'

Yet, as she was about to reach out, she stopped herself when she looked into his eyes.

Shigaraki's gaze was unfocused and distant yet alive with something she couldn't fully understand. She had seen Vander's look before when staring at her and her sister, a look of someone caught between grief and hope, between the weight of the past and the fragile warmth of memory.

'He's remembering something,' she realized, her heart tightening. 'Something important.'

Powder bit her lip, and some small blood trickled down her mouth. She didn't want to break the moment, even though every instinct screamed for her to snap him out of it. She didn't want to take this from him, not when it seemed he was finally touching something he had lost long ago.

Her gaze dropped to her hands, which trembled slightly. 'I don't understand him,' she thought. 'Even just hearing his story earlier made me feel a little sympathy for him, but now seeing him like this, I feel a pain in my heart for some reason.'

Powder's resolve solidified. Her hands clutched to her chest as she silently vowed to herself. 'I'll help him. Somehow. No matter what.'

The woman, meanwhile, stood frozen in place. Shigaraki's choked word 'Mom' struck her like a physical blow. She seemed to see her son, 

Her lips parted, trembling as she processed the raw emotion in his voice. It was full of hidden anger, fear, desperateness, and longing, finally unravelled in that single word.

She couldn't move for a moment and stopped when she wanted to. The girl with the blue hair had stepped beside the boy, and her warning eyes shot at her, telling her not to move. Then, moving worriedly back to the boy, the woman stopped and stared. They both spectated Shigaraki from outside.

Inside Shigaraki's mind, his mother called out to him, her voice full of love and compassion. "Tenko."

Shigaraki didn't respond. His body trembled as he stared at her, his breathing disoriented. Her presence overwhelmed him,

"It's okay, Tenko," she said, her voice warm and inviting. "Come here."

His knees wobbled as he took an unsteady step forward. His hand rose instinctively, reaching for the warmth he thought he'd never feel again.

Outside, Powder's breathing quickened. She knew what might happen if he touched her, and the woman, who had overheard fragments of their conversation, stood frozen in uncertainty. But no one moved. Powder's gaze flicked between Shigaraki and the woman, and her thoughts turned. She was hesitantly thinking of intervening and waking him up.

But before either could act, Shigaraki collapsed to the ground, his body twitching violently. His eyes rolled back, and his arms stiffened unnaturally. Powder reacted instantly, dropping the bag and falling beside him to shake him awake. The woman gasped and stepped forward to help, but Powder shouted,

"Stay back!" 

This halted the woman. She could only stare at this brave girl trying to wake up the boy and stop his shaking. Powder seemed to forget about the dangers Shigaraki could inflict on her. She only knew her new friend was suffering.

No one knew that Inside Shigaraki's mind, a confrontation was brewing.

"Stop it, Tenko," a sharp, commanding voice echoed in his mind, reverberating like a thunderclap that shattered the fragile warmth enveloping him.

Tenko froze mid-step, his trembling hand dropping to his side. His wide, unblemished eyes darted around the room, searching for the source of the voice.

"Don't you think this game is boring," the voice continued, cutting through his thoughts like a blade. A bitter laugh followed, filled with sadness and despair yet tinged with a cold, unyielding certainty. "She still only calls for you now, not Shigaraki. She is a fake."

He turned sharply, and there he was his other self.

Shigaraki.

The figure before him was shadowy and spectral, but his pale blue hair and piercing wine-coloured eyes were unmistakable. Shigaraki's expression was disdainful; his scarred lips that weren't covered in makeup twisted into a mocking smirk. His presence exuded a cold finality that contrasted with the warmth Tenko had been clinging to.

Tenko looked down at his hands, smooth and steady, then back at Shigaraki. His black hair fell softly across his face, a stark reminder of who he once was. "I'm... Tenko," he murmured, his voice small, almost uncertain.

Shigaraki let out a dry chuckle, stepping closer. "Yes, you are," he said, with some anger brewing. "And that's the problem."

Tenko's brows furrowed. "Why is that a problem? This is who I'm supposed to be. This was always me."

"No," Shigaraki snapped, his tone cold and unwavering. "This is who you were. Who you used to be. But you're not that boy now. You can't be… Not anymore!" he shouted as the ethereal dream space rippled.

Tenko took a step back, his voice trembling. He didn't understand why himself, four years later, was so cold. "Why not? Why can't I go back? Why can't I just... feel normal again?"

Shigaraki's eyes brimmed with frustration as he gestured around the room. "This isn't right! Just look at her, look at this… Imposter!" He directed his finger at the motherly figure with open arms, her expression soft and welcoming. "Do you honestly think this is real, Tenko?" His chilling voice aimed to revive some clarity in this five-year-old's mind. "Can you genuinely tell me that she is real?" a hint of anguish inadvertently crawled in his tone.

Tenko turned his gaze to the woman, a tightness forming in his chest. "It feels real," he whispered, his voice barely above a murmur. "It brings back memories of home..." As he spoke, his downturned face began to show signs of grief.

Shigaraki subtly shook his head at his former naive self, revealing a moment of vulnerability that almost looked like regret. "Of course it does," he quietly replied, his voice momentarily softening. "It's what you've desired, what we've desired. Yet, simply wanting it doesn't make it real… I have long wanted to bring back everyone, but I'm still stuck here…"

Tenko shook his head, his hands clenching into fists. "You don't understand," he said, his voice rising. "I just want to feel something again. To feel like I'm not... broken."

Shigaraki's eyes narrowed, and he took another step forward. "So you think this will fix you? That clinging to a dream or memory will make you feel complete?"

Tenko looked away, his shoulders trembling. "I don't know," he admitted. "But it's better than feeling nothing. Of the coldness you feel constantly," he responded bravely,

Shigaraki scoffed, his voice dripping with bitterness and frustration. "You think this is better? Better than what? Than surviving?" His red eyes blazed with intensity as he glared at Tenko, his words cutting like a knife. "The coldness you're so eager to throw away, it's not weakness. It's survival. It's how we protect ourselves. Attachments make you soft and vulnerable. When you have no attachments, there's nothing to lose." His laugh was sickly, almost mocking.

Tenko's head snapped toward Shigaraki, his tear-filled eyes widening as hurt flickered across his face. "But then what are we fighting for?" he asked, his voice trembling with confusion and pain. "If there's nothing to lose, then what's the point of surviving at all?"

Shigaraki's hand twitched, his gaze softening for a fleeting moment before his voice dropped, quieter but no less intense. "It's not about wanting attachments, Tenko. It's about controlling them. Silco and Powder... they're not just attachments. They're responsibilities. They need us. And if we're not strong and don't keep the cold distance, we'll let them down. We'll lose them anyway."

Tenko flinched at the words, his chest tightening as he whispered, "You're lying. You care about them. I can feel it. You can never hide it from Silco, either. Is this what you tell yourself all the time? That you're cold, detached? But you can't even follow through on your own words."

Shigaraki's expression hardened, but his voice faltered as an unfiltered emotion slipped like a crack in a dam. "Of course I care!" he snapped, his scarlet eyes burning with suppressed turmoil. "That's why it has to be this way. Because if I let myself feel too much if I let myself be weak, they'll suffer from it. They'll pay the price for my failure."

"But they don't want that!" Tenko shot back, his voice rising with conviction. "They don't want you to be this cold, distant thing. Powder... she wouldn't need a shield. She would needs you to care, to feel. She needs you, not some... empty shell."

Shigaraki's fists clenched tightly at his sides, his voice a storm of frustration and fear. "And what do you think happens when caring isn't enough?" he snarled, his voice trembling with intensity. "When that feeling gets in the way, and everything we've tried to protect crumbles? Do you think love will save anyone? It doesn't. It never does."

Tenko's eyes softened, his voice quieter but no less resolute. "You're wrong, Shigaraki," he said gently. "I know you don't believe what you're saying. Love isn't a weakness. It's the only thing keeping us from falling apart completely. It's why we survive."

Shigaraki's eyes shot open. For a moment, his resolve wavered, his expression flickering with something raw and unguarded. But then the bitterness returned, like a shield snapping back into place. "Love gets people killed, Tenko," he said coldly, his tone once again unwavering. "And I won't let it kill us. Not again."

Tenko took a tentative step closer, his expression a mixture of sadness and determination. "You forget, Shigaraki," he said softly, his voice steady despite the tears glistening in his eyes. "I am also you, which makes me feel heartbroken for you."

"Are you really going to forget about Silco and Powder for this illusionary dream?" Shigaraki roared. He wanted to get his point across to his younger self.

Tenko faltered, his mind racing as he thought of Powder's tearful eyes, her unwavering belief in him despite everything he had said earlier. He thought of Silco, his commanding presence and the quiet, fatherly concern that had replaced the void left by his real family.

"Do you understand Tenko? They're our family now," Shigaraki continued, his voice quieter but no less firm. "They're the ones who matter. Not this... fantasy. It's time to wake up to reality."

Tenko's heart ached at the words, but he couldn't agree. He looked back at the woman, her soft smile and warm eyes drawing him in like a beacon. Her warmth called to him in a way that made his chest tighten with longing. "But she's our mother," he said, his voice cracking, desperate to hold onto the fragile hope she represented. "We need her."

"No," Shigaraki shot back, his tone cold and cutting. "It's not we, it's been you. You want her, Tenko. Just like I wanted her, too." His voice faltered. "On that day when I needed her most," he choked, his eyes clouding with a memory he'd buried long ago.

For a moment, Shigaraki's expression twisted with pain. His cold facade cracked just slightly as a flicker of his real emotion escaped. "If only she'd been there," he murmured, his voice trembling with hate and sorrow. "If only she'd comforted me, maybe none of this would have happened."

Tenko froze at the words, the sadness in Shigaraki's voice cutting deeper than the anger ever could. He wanted to reach out, to bridge the gap between them, but before he could speak, Shigaraki's gaze snapped back to him, fierce and unrelenting.

"But she wasn't," Shigaraki said, his voice hardening, the brief vulnerability replaced by an unyielding resolve. "She wasn't there, and you know it. That's the difference, Tenko. This isn't about need. It's about want. And that want? It will only hurt you."

Shigarakis words hammered down like a guillotine. "And I won't let that happen. Not again. So wake up now and go back to where you were before."

Tenko shook his head quickly, tears spilling down his cheeks. "No!" Tenko reacted violently to going back where he was. He just looked at the now more passive Shigaraki. "I'm sorry, but you don't understand," he said, his voice trembling with both defiance and sorrow. "I just... I need to feel her again. Just once more. Nothing you say can stop me, Shigaraki."

His hands clenched at his sides as his voice grew steadier, his resolve hardening even through the tears. "And you know why? Because, like I've told you before, we're the same. We're pieces of the same broken heart, the same fractured soul. My resolve and my will? They're just as strong as yours."

His voice softened as he took a small step toward the woman waiting with open arms. "So I'm sorry if that hurts you, Shigaraki," Tenko added, his voice cracking with emotion. "But this... this is something I can't let go of. Not yet. Because of this, I must stop you from intervening with me physically."

With his words, a beam of light seemed to shoot from Tenkos palms, one not of destruction but the opposite. A wall was created meant for protection. He was protecting himself.

Shigaraki was stunned at this sight; he couldn't comprehend how his younger self created something like protection, especially against himself. But he didn't have time to think more about it as Tenko started to walk towards the phantom mother. He slammed his hand against the invisible wall separating them. 

"And then what, Tenko? What happens when it's over? When you realize it was all a lie? Do you think you'll just walk away? Do you think she'll still care for you? You are just being greedy, Tenko!" his slamming only got louder, his frustration now reaching a new peak.

Tenko flinched at the words, his resolve wavering. But he looked at his mother figure overlapping the woman again, and something inside him steadied. "Maybe she won't care for me," he said quietly. "But I want to try."

Shigaraki gritted his teeth. The words were surprisingly clear, and his voice rose. "You're delusional! This is why I buried you. You're weak, Tenko. Weak and selfish. You just want our old imaginary family back but don't understand that we have a new one!"

"I'm not selfish," Tenko shot back, his voice trembling angrily. "You're the one who chose to betray our old family by creating a new one, the name Shigaraki, after listening to some stranger-" 

"Tenko! He is not a stranger. He is our father! You are pissing me off now!" Shigarakis palmed the glow of decay, pressing it against the wall as it slowly started to disperse. This only made Tenko anxious, so he moved back and placed his palms against the other side of the wall, repairing it, as his voice started to choke.

"I don't get it! I just want to feel loved. Why do you try so hard to destroy that, too?"

Shigaraki's laugh was bitter and spoke in annoyance. "Loved? Isn't Silco enough!... if it isn't, what about Powder? Huh? We promised to protect our new friend, who we made together. How can you protect her when you are too busy in this fake world." 

Tenko hesitated, his gaze dropping. But then he looked up, his eyes filled with quiet determination. "She'll understand," he said softly. "So will Silco because they care about us."

"They care about Shigaraki," Shigaraki countered, his voice low. "Not Tenko. Not this pathetic shadow of who we used to be." As more anger swelled at his chest, and the more Shigaraki talked to himself, the more he realized he had talked more than he had ever had, and it was now becoming exhausting.

Tenko's chest tightened, and he turned back to his mother. She hadn't moved, her hand still outstretched, her eyes still filled with love. "I don't care what you say anymore. I don't want to listen," he said unreasonably.

The moment Tenko stepped forward, reaching for his mother's warmth, another invisible barrier shimmered into place. The once decaying barrier now solidified further. It glowed faintly, separating him from the voice of reason clawing at the edge of his mind.

"Tenko!" Shigaraki's voice boomed, this time with desperation. He slammed his hands against the barrier. His decay, which used to work wonders, had now fully stopped. He felt a fear he never wanted to experience. He continuously lashed onto the barrier, the force shaking through the dreamscape. "What are you doing? Tenko, Stop this!"

But Tenko didn't turn back. He placed one trembling hand against the barrier from his side, his black hair falling into his eyes. "I don't want to stop," he whispered, his voice fragile and speaking more incoherently, almost brainwashing himself. "I've waited so long for this..."

"Get a hold of yourself! STOP IT!" Shigaraki growled, his voice trembling with fury. His emotions spiralled into chaos, and he unleashed the destructive force of his decay in desperation. Dark tendrils spread outward, clawing at the glowing barrier to consume it. He poured everything into the attack, but the barrier remained unyielding. The decay skittered across its surface before vanishing harmlessly into the air. Frustration erupted in a guttural shout as Shigaraki slammed his fist against the wall. "Damn it!" he bellowed, his voice screeching with desperation. "Tenko, this isn't right! You're not thinking clearly! Let me through!"

Tenko's lips quivered, but he didn't move, speaking still in that self-hypnosis. "It feels so real, Shigaraki," he said softly, almost to himself. "That's enough."

Shigaraki froze, almost dumbfounded, his breath catching. "Enough?" he repeated, his voice trembling. "Tenko, you are going mad and need to wake up."

"I don't care!" Tenko snapped, his voice cracking as it rose, trembling with countless emotions from the both of them. Tears streamed down his face, his composure unravelling as a slow madness crept into his tone. His eyes glistened with unsettling intensity, not a colour change, but the deep reflection of emotions consuming his very soul. He turned sharply to face Shigaraki, his expression a mix of despair and defiance. "I've been broken for so long, Shigaraki," he choked out, his voice trembling under the weight of his anguish. "Just let me have this. Let me feel complete again... even if it's only for a moment."

Shigaraki faltered for the first time, the fire in his eyes dimming slightly. He pressed his forehead against the barrier, his voice dropping to a near-whisper. He spoke true to his heart without any cover-ups. "Do you think I don't miss her, miss... this too?" His gaze softened, "You'll kill her, Tenko. That's the harsh reality, just like you did before. Do you really want to relive that scene, Tenko?"

Tenko winced at the words, his hand dropping from the barrier as guilt twisted in his chest. "I didn't mean to..." he murmured, his voice cracking. "I didn't mean to hurt her."

"I know," Shigaraki said, his voice heavy with sorrow. A tear slipped down his cheek, falling silently as he leaned against the wall. He had given up on brute force and now tried using words to bring any sense of reason back to Tenko, but in doing so, only tore at his own heart. "I know, Tenko. But it happened. And it'll happen again. Our quirk doesn't care about intentions. It only destroys. All is equal under our touch." he raised his palms to stare at the five small, delicate fingers.

Tenko shook his head, his black hair swaying with the motion. "Not this time," he said, his voice resolute. "I'll control it. I'll protect her. I can protect against you here. Maybe I can do it out there as well."

"You can't," Shigaraki whispered, his tone of heartbreak. "She will die, and then you'll have to live with that, too. Another scar, Tenko. Another wound to carry." he slammed his fist backwards to showcase more of his anger; Tenko was not listening to him at all, and he felt helpless. But what was he to expect from a five-year-old self? He could only drown in his sorrows, waiting.

Tenko hesitated, his gaze flickering back to the glowing light on the other side of the barrier. His mother's silhouette stood there, her hand outstretched, her voice a gentle beacon. "Tenko, come," she said, her tone filled with love and understanding.

Shigaraki looked at all of this and, in a pain that once again ripped a wound from his body, said, his voice breaking completely, "Tenko. Don't listen. You have to let her go,"

"I can't… I can't forget her, Shigaraki. She is our mother." Tenko responded with an almost betrayed expression of how he could say such a thing.

"Letting go doesn't mean erasing her Tenko… It doesn't mean she's gone forever." His eyes shut in remembrance. "She's still there, with us, in every memory, in everything we've endured."

He opened his eyes again and gestured at the glowing figure, his movements slow and gruesome but filled with emotion. "But this, this illusion you're clinging to Tenko…isn't real. It's not her. It's a shadow, a lie we're telling ourselves because we can't face the truth. And chasing this dream won't bring her back. It won't heal us."

Shigaraki's eyes no longer had rage, only a deep disappointment. "You think this is how we move forward? By drowning in something that was taken from us long ago? By locking yourself in this cage of fake warmth? That's not living, Tenko. That's running. And we don't get to run anymore. Not when there are people who need us out there, real people who trust us to protect them."

Tenko closed his eyes for a long time. Shigaraki hoped his words reached his younger self, but what came next left him frozen in fear. He watched Tenkos' hands once again tremble and whispered, "I'm sorry, Shigaraki." With that, he placed more mental barriers around Shigaraki.

"What-" Shigaraki's voice was cut off as the cage solidified. His panic mounted, his voice rising in desperation. "Tenko! You can't do this to me. Do you know how much I sacrificed?!"

"I know, but I need this," Tenko said softly, stepping away from the cage. "Just for a moment."

Shigaraki's eyes widened, his teeth gritting as he shouted, "You're locking away the part of us that knows how to survive! That place isn't for someone like you. It will break you, Tenko. Let me out! RELEASE ME!!!" he tore his throat.

But Tenko didn't turn back. He walked toward the light, his mother's silhouette growing clearer with every step. Her arms opened, and he felt the warmth of her embrace before reaching her. It was everything he'd longed for, the comfort he'd craved for so long.

But the dream began to fracture. Cracks formed in the serene illusion, the edges of the world dissolving into fragments.

"Shigaraki, what are you doing?" Tenko shouted, his voice laced with panic as he turned to see Shigaraki slamming his head against the barrier, blood streaking down his face.

The cage shook violently, and the dreamscape crumbled further. Memories blurred and turned into fog, slipping away like sand through Tenko's fingers.

Shigaraki's voice was hoarse but resolute. "This is the only way," he muttered, his form flickering and fading as the cage began to collapse.

Tenko understood something and rushed toward his phantom mother, stretching his trembling hand out for her one final time. Yet, the light shattered, pulling him back into the hardened grasp of reality.

Tenko trembled as he began to awaken, his breathing uneven and shallow. Powder knelt by his side, her small hands clutching his shoulders as she gently shook him.

"Shigaraki… Shigaraki, wake up," she said, her voice trembling. Tears shimmered in her wide eyes as she leaned closer, her worry palpable. "Please… wake up."

His eyes fluttered open slowly, the once colder eyes fading into a softer, more vulnerable gaze. His expression was distant for a moment, as if he were still trapped in another world. Then, recognition dawned, and he turned his gaze to Powder.

"Powder?" he murmured, his voice soft and steady, a far cry from the usual cold edge. He sat up uncoordinated with this newish feeling of an older body, his movements careful, almost hesitant. "I… I'm sorry for making you worry."

Powder froze at the sound of his voice, her careful worry now giving way to confusion. There was something different, something gentler, not the Shigaraki she remembered just talking to earlier. But she didn't dwell too much on it but spoke in haste. 

"We need to leave," she said, her voice breaking slightly. "Okay? Let's just go."

Shigaraki, still a little dazed, just nodded, his expression apologetic. "Yeah… you're right. We should." His words were gentle, carrying a warmth that felt foreign to Powder. He wanted to reach out but stopped hesitantly. Powder noticed this but didn't flinch and just got up neatly. Shigaraki noticed this too and, shyly but genuinely, said, "Thank you."

Powder blinked, her cheeks tinged with a faint blush. She wasn't used to this side of him, the softness, the quiet sincerity. "Y-you're welcome," she stammered, quickly looking away. 'What is going on?' she thought to herself worriedly.

As Shigaraki stood, his gaze shifted to the woman across the room. For a moment, her features overlapped with his mother's, her soft smile, the gentle way her eyes held his. The weight of it made his chest tighten, but then his gaze fell to Powder. She was here, alive and real, and she needed him.

He turned his attention to the wall, his movements deliberate. Tentatively, he placed his hand against it. The decay spread instantly, reducing the wall to ash and smoke. A cool breeze rushed into the room, carrying the world's sounds outside.

Powder's eyes widened at the sight. "Shigaraki," she whispered, her voice filled with awe and concern.

Tenko turned to her, his expression soft and reassuring. "It's okay," he said gently, a small, cheerful smile tugging at his lips. "You go first. I'll be right behind you."

Her heart raced at his smile, which spread warmth across her face. It was so different, so unguarded, almost childlike. She hesitated, her worry resurfacing. "You promise?" she asked, her voice small.

"I promise," Tenko said firmly, his gaze steady. "I'll follow right after. Don't worry."

Powder's lip quivered, but she nodded. First, she threw down the bag of stolen stuff, but the woman never stopped it. After Powder heard the thud of metal, she turned to the opening, glancing back at the woman before looking over her shoulder to the smoke-filled room. "Everyone, Escape! Let's Go!!!" she yelled, her voice carrying urgency as she clambered through the hole and leapt into the bushes below.

Tenko watched her go, his heart heavy but resolute. As the ash settled and the faint sound of Powder's landing reached his ears, he took a steadying breath. His gaze flicked back to the woman still standing across the room. Her features were no longer blurred with his mother's, but he knew she was the key to what he wanted.

**********

Powder's landing was rough, her small body cushioned by the hedges. She scrambled to her feet, brushing dirt off the leaves that stuck to her clothes. The heavy bag lay a few feet away, its contents partially spilling out tools, scraps, and bits of machinery she had collected.

Seconds later, the back door burst open, and Vi, Mylo, and Claggor bolted out into the yard, their expressions frantic.

"What the hell, Powder?" Mylo hissed, his voice sharp with irritation. He skidded to a stop beside her, his eyes darting to the bag. "I had just found something awesome, and you ruined it with your yelling! Now, probably every enforcer here will storm this place soon."

Powder felt too overwhelmed to respond immediately. Her eyes locked onto the decayed hole in the house above them.

Vi's gaze followed hers, narrowing slightly as she took in the jagged edges and the faint cloud of dust and ash swirling near the opening. "The hell happened up there?" she muttered, her tone cautious but intrigued.

Mylo, still unaware of the gravity of the situation, crossed his arms and scowled. "Great. The house is collapsing. Perfect. That's just what we needed."

Claggor bent down, grabbing the bag with a grunt. "What's in this thing?" he muttered, his voice strained as he staggered under the weight. "Feels like it's full of bricks."

"Just grab it!" Vi snapped, her tone sharper than usual. She turned back to Powder, her brows furrowing as she studied her. "Powder, what happened?"

Powder hesitated, her mouth opening and closing as she struggled to find the right words. But her gaze still lingered upwards, and she saw the faint smoke swirling into the air, obscuring the details happening in the room from down below.

"There was someone inside," she said finally, her voice barely above a whisper.

Vi's eyes widened slightly, but she quickly masked her reaction. "Someone?" she repeated, her tone measured. "Who?"

Powder shook her head, her hands clenching into fists at her sides. "The homeowner, the lady in the photos, but that's not what's important now," she stammered. "Shigaraki's still in there."

The group tensed.

"Really?" Mylo scoffed. "Why didn't he jump out with you? Don't tell me the room collapsed on him, and you left him?"

Vi's expression hardened as she stared at the clouded second floor. The faint shapes of two figures emerged through the swirling smoke, a smaller figure and a much larger one looming close behind. The sight made her stomach drop.

"We need to go back in," Vi said firmly, already stepping toward the house. "We need to get him out."

"What?" Mylo blurted out, his tone incredulous. "Do we really need to save the new guy?" But this joke was short-lived. Seeing the serious look in Vi's eyes, he sighed, clearly preparing himself. "Fine. You said no one gets left behind, right?"

Vi shot him a glare but didn't argue. "Exactly. So move."

They both moved toward the house, reading themselves for what lay beyond the doorway, even if it meant facing the enforcers. But before they could reach it again, a figure burst through the swirling smoke.

Shigaraki leapt, his body moving with a feral grace as he hurtled toward the ground. He landed heavily in the bushes below, the impact sending a faint tremor through the ground. The branches beneath him withered instantly.

Powder's breath stopped as she watched, her wide eyes darting to the others. But none of them noticed the signs of Shigaraki's quirk, only her. This relieved her.

Vi let out a breath she hadn't realized she was holding. "Shigaraki!" she called, relief cutting through her tone. "What the hell took you so long?" a light chuckle also escaped her to ease the tension.

Shigaraki straightened slowly, his face unreadable. His blank eyes slowly moved down to his hands, where faint streaks of red glistened.

"You're hurt," Vi said, her sharp gaze locking onto his hands. "You cut yourself from the shrubs?"

Shigaraki glanced at his palms briefly before flexing his fingers. His voice was emotionless when he responded, but it sounded like it came from the depths of something terrifying. "It's nothing. I'll clean it when we get back."

Vi hesitated. His voice was eerily creepy. She also felt some danger around him, but then she just shook it off as her brows knitted together. "Fine. But we're leaving. Now."

Claggor shifted the bag on his shoulder with a grunt. "Finally," he muttered. "This thing's killing me."

"Don't drop it," Vi snapped, already moving. "Let's go."

Mylo's irritation flared again. "This whole thing was a waste! I barely got to grab anything before all hell broke loose!"

Powder's small voice cut through his complaints. "I said we had to leave," she murmured, though her gaze lingered on Shigaraki. She couldn't stop staring at his hands, her mind racing with questions she didn't dare ask. But more so of his detached self now, she needed time to consider today's events.

"Let's go!" Vi commanded again, her voice snapping Powder out of her thoughts.

Without another word, the group turned back the way they had come, slipping into the shadows of the backstreets. The faint glow of Piltover's streetlamps painted jagged patterns across the ground as they kept to the alleys, their footsteps light and hurried.

Shigaraki followed behind the group; his eyes stared blankly, and no emotions came from them.

"Powder, I guess he doesn't like you anymore," Mylo said with some sass. He had noticed Powder trying to communicate with Shigarkai, but he had ignored her, and now she was sulking beside her sister.

"Mylo shut the fuck up," Vi snapped, her sharp tone silencing him. She was now very irritable and didn't think of filtering her words.

She glanced over her shoulder, briefly flicking her gaze to Shigaraki. He hadn't spoken since they left the house, and his silence was pissing her off. Especially seeing her sister, who now looked more depressed and even had tears in her eyes, anger started to swell up instead of rationality. 

As they passed by a narrow alley, Vi stopped abruptly; her boots clicked against the ground. She spun around sharply, her eyes blazing with anger. Before anyone could react, she grabbed Shigaraki by the collar of his shirt and shoved him hard against the alley wall, leaving a hard thud.

Vi tightened her grip on Shigaraki's collar. Her voice pierced through the silence and confusion, carrying a concealed fury.

"What the hell happened in that house, Shigaraki? Huh?" she demanded. "You were fine when we started this. I saw how Powder lit up when you were around. She hadn't smiled like that in months. And now look at her!"

Vi gestured behind her to where Powder stood, her tearful eyes darting between them.

Shigaraki didn't move. His lifeless eyes stared straight through Vi as if she weren't even there. The vacant look on his face sent a chill down her spine, but it only fueled her anger further.

"Say something!" Vi yelled, shaking him roughly. "You two were getting along, even having fun. So what changed? What the hell happened in that damn room to make you like this?"

Vi's voice echoed off the walls of the narrow alley, but Shigaraki remained silent. His expression was cold, detached, and completely unyielding. It wasn't defiance, and it wasn't fear. It was something far worse that no one here could understand.

"What the hell is your problem?" Mylo chimed in, his tone full of irritation as he stepped closer. "You're creeping everyone out with that dead-eyed stare. Are you even listening?" he even waved his hands in front of his eyes,

Shigaraki's silence continued, and Mylo threw his arms up in exasperation. "See? This is exactly the problem. He only ever connected with Powder. There is clearly something off; maybe there is some conspiracy."

Claggor stepped between Mylo and Vi, trying to diffuse the growing tension. "Mylo, shut up. You're not helping," he said firmly before turning to Vi. "Vi, maybe we should all just calm down…"

"No," Vi interrupted sharply, her eyes never leaving Shigaraki's face. "I want answers. Powder deserves answers."

Her voice cracked slightly on the last word, and she cursed under her breath, frustrated with herself for letting her emotions slip. "You owe her that much, at least," she said through gritted teeth. "What did you do, Shigaraki? What did you say to her?"

Still, no response.

Vi's patience snapped. "Answer me!" she shouted. She punched the brick wall beside his face. The wind shook his hair slightly, and blood started to seep through her bandaged fists, but she never cared. Just stared deadly at Shigaraki for anything. "Say something, Shigaraki! Anything!"

But Shigaraki didn't flinch. His blank gaze remained locked on hers, unblinking and unnervingly calm. Suddenly, his hand twitched slightly at his side, the only sign of movement he'd shown since she grabbed him.

Powder's voice raised in her throat at this sight and then broke through the rising tension, small and trembling. "Vi, stop. Please," she begged, her tone desperate.

Vi glanced over her shoulder at her sister, her grip on Shigaraki loosening but not letting go entirely. "Powder, I'm trying to help you. I'm trying to understand what's going on."

Powder shook her head frantically, her tears glistening under the dim light of the alley. "It's okay," she said, though her voice wavered. "Really, Vi. Just let him go."

"No, it's not okay!" Vi retorted, her voice rising again. "He's acting like a zombie, and now you're crying. How is that okay? I'm not letting this slide."

Powder's lower lip quivered as she looked at Shigaraki, who remained eerily still. Her heart ached at his blank stare and his hands twitching involuntarily at his sides. "Vi, please," she said softly, her voice cracking. "He's not… he's not himself."

Vi's eyes narrowed as she turned back to Shigaraki. "Not himself?" she repeated bitterly. "Then who the hell is he, Powder? Because right now, he's just making everything worse."

Still no reaction.

Vi released him with a frustrated shove, stepping back as she ran a hand through her hair. "If you can't fix this, don't bother coming back," she muttered, her voice quieter but no less authoritative. "Your part will be delivered, but Powder deserves better than whatever this is."

Shigaraki straightened his clothing with slow, deliberate movements. He finally turned his gaze toward Vi, and for the first time, there was something in his eyes, a flicker of emotion. Anger? Guilt? Even Vi couldn't tell.

Powder stepped closer to Vi, tugging gently at her arm. "Vi," she said softly, her voice trembling. "Let's just go."

Vi looked down at her sister, her anger softening at the sight of Powder's tear-streaked face. With a heavy sigh, she nodded and pulled Powder into a gentle side hug. "Fine. Let's go."

The group turned to leave, but Powder lingered for a moment, glancing back at Shigaraki. Her heart felt heavy as she whispered, "I'm sorry," before following her sister down the alley.

Shigaraki stood alone, his vision watching them disappear into the alleyway. His expression remained unreadable, but as he turned and walked in the opposite direction, his hand twitched again at his side, clenching into a fist before releasing.

******

Mylo broke the silence and muttered, "Finally, he's gone," earning a glare from Claggor.

Vi, however, didn't look back. "Leave him," she said coldly. "He's not heading to the Undercity from that direction anyways. If he wants to wander topside, that's his problem."

Powder's heart sank further at her sister's words, but she said nothing. Her feet dragged slightly as they walked, her mind hopping between guilt and worry.

Vi noticed her sister's quiet distress and tried to soften her tone. "Look, Powder, his dad has connections up here. He'll be fine."

Powder didn't respond, her gaze fixed on the ground.

Vi sighed, pulling Powder closer. "I did this for you, you know," she said quietly. "I'm trying to protect you."

Powder stopped in her tracks, pulling away slightly. "You don't understand," she said, her voice trembling. "You don't know what happened in that house."

Vi turned to her, her brows furrowing. "Then tell me," she demanded. "What happened, Powder? What's going on with him?"

Powder hesitated, biting her lip. "It's a secret," she said, her voice small. "I promised I wouldn't say."

Vi's frustration flared again. "A secret? Powder, this isn't something you can just keep to yourself! He's acting like a damn lunatic, and you're upset-"

"It's nothing to worry about," Powder interrupted, her voice firm despite the tears in her eyes. "Let me handle it."

"Handle it?" Vi repeated, her tone incredulous. "This isn't your problem to solve, Powder. It's his."

Powder nodded quickly, her voice softening as if to end this topic... "I know. But... just trust me, okay?"

Vi stared at her for a long moment before exhaling sharply. "Fine. But if he hurts you again, I'm done, Powder. I don't care what secret you're keeping."

Powder nodded again, but her heart remained heavy as they walked. She cast one last glance over her shoulder, hoping to catch a glimpse of Shigaraki, but he was already gone.