Tomura Shigaraki walked through the dark alleyway, his hands buried in the pockets of his tattered coat, his mind preoccupied with the League's next move. The city's distant hum was a constant backdrop, but the alley itself was eerily quiet, the kind of silence that promised trouble. As he neared a corner, the silence was broken by the sound of jeers and cries of pain, drawing his attention.

Turning the corner, Shigaraki saw you, a young boy, being viciously beaten by a group of older kids. They had you pressed against the dirty brick wall, fists and feet landing on you mercilessly. "Your quirk is useless, you little freak," one of them sneered, landing a particularly hard punch to your stomach. "No hero would want a villain quirk like yours," another added with a cruel laugh, echoing the sentiment that made you feel even more worthless.

"Yeah, you're destined to be a villain, just like the rest of the scum," the leader of the bullies taunted, shoving you to the ground. You could barely lift your head, tears mixing with the grime on your cheeks as you endured their relentless abuse. Each insult and blow cut deeper, reinforcing the belief that you were unwanted, that your quirk was a curse.

Shigaraki's eyes narrowed, his fingers twitching with anticipation. With a swift, silent movement, he closed the distance between himself and the bullies. They didn't even see him coming until it was too late. His hand reached out, brushing against the leader's shoulder. In an instant, the bully began to disintegrate, his screams echoing through the alley. The other kids froze in horror, unable to comprehend what was happening, before they too fell victim to Shigaraki's deadly touch.

As the last of the bullies crumbled to dust, Shigaraki turned his attention to you, his gaze piercing through the darkness. He approached slowly, his presence both intimidating and strangely comforting. "Would you like to join my League?" he asked, his voice low and commanding, offering a hand that promised both power and a place to belong.