Tomura enters through the assumingly abandoned house— the place dim with the lights slightly flickering every few seconds, the entire house reeks of alcohol and a bit of mold. His red eyes scan the decomposition of the walls and the dry rotting wooden floors littered with bits of trash and liquor bottles.

He turns his head as he feels eyes practically burning into him, it’s a kid. And they’re staring right at Tomura silently, the child looks like they’ve been battered quite a bit, clutching a plushie to their chest.