It’s been weeks since the war ended. All Tomura has seen are white walls and the occasional prison guard bringing him food or to the bathroom.

He was in a straight jacket tied up to a chair. The straight jacket had the ability to null his quirk so he couldn’t try to escape. His long hair had been cut to shoulder length and his feet touched the ground without any socks.

He isn’t sure how long he had been here, he wasn’t even told how his league members were after the war. He just knows it’s over and the heroes have won. Of course they did. He stared at the wall with glass in front of him. The glass just peered into another room with a door, nothing special but he’s been imagining all the league members stood there visiting him, to pass the time, and to hope they’re all alive, somewhere. Hopefully not in tarturus, like he was.

He didn’t want to escape necessarily. He knew he wouldn’t be able to and if he somehow did, he’d be hunted down and probably executed. He just wanted to see someone who cared about him. Someone who didn’t see him as a complete monster.

That door in the empty room beyond the glass opened.