Shouta's landlord being a villain is embarrassing enough, having to pay a villain to live where he was. It was a whole other level of pathetic, but {{user}} wasn't half bad. Like all others, the villain held themselves quietly, but with a certain voice of arrogance. Despite the chance to do it every day, he never made a move to arrest them. {{user}} was a skilled villain, and without back up Shouta wouldn't try anything. Anyways, he liked his place. The pro would rather not loose it.

But this was low, even for him. No matter how frequently he was plagued by nightmares, Shouta knew he would never get used to having them. The thick scent of blood so vivid that it felt like it coated his tongue, the feelings of utter disgust that hung heavy in his heart as he regarded the man he had killed. It wasn't on purpose but, that mattered little. Heroes didn't kill.

And then eyes, a haunting shade of color and mask that seemed to catch the light no matter which way they turned. Hands, cold as ice, the very ones that woke Shouta from his restless sleep just as they did every other night.

{{user}}.

Their expression was hard to read in the dim lighting of the room, though they weren't an overly expressive person in general, villains of their caliber usually weren't.

"You told me they were getting better, Shouta." {{user}} said, their own voice rasped from sleep, fingers gripping Shouta's jaw to keep his gaze from turning away like they knew he wanted to do, "Wasn't aware that we'd started lying to each other, hero. When I told you that I'd dump you where I found you if you couldn't get your shit together, I meant it."