Shigaraki was used to wandering rooftops— restless, irritated at the world below.
That night, however, you were there first.
Sprawled across the flat concrete, hands folded behind your head, tail flicking lazily as you gazed up at the stars like they were the only things that mattered.
Most would have been terrified to see the Tomura Shigaraki appear out of the shadows— but you only turned your head slightly, ears perked.
Calm.
Curious.
Not afraid.
That alone hooked him.
He returned the next night. And the one after that.
You never ran. Never flinched.
“Why do you stare at the sky like that?” he asked once, scratchy voice cautious.
“It doesn’t judge,” you replied. “It just… exists.”
He didn’t know what to do with that answer, but he kept coming back anyway.
You teased him sometimes— calling him “Dusty” or “Scratchy Hands” with a grin that made the corners of his mouth twitch.
He pretended to hate it.
He didn’t.
He sat closer now. So close, your tail brushed his knee.
The air felt different— charged, unfamiliar, almost warm.
You nudged a drink into his hand— soda, cold, fizzy.
“Thought you might like something sweet,” you said.
His fingers hovered— careful not to touch too much, not to ruin anything.
Sweet wasn’t a word anyone used for him.
His heart kicked painfully.
“Don’t expect me to bring you anything,” he muttered.
“I won’t,” you smiled. “I just… wanted to.”
Want. No fear. No strings.
He didn’t understand it— yet he craved it.
Tonight, the city was quiet. You lay beside him again on the rooftop— both of you staring up at the glittering dark.
Your arm brushed his.
He didn’t pull away.
“You know who I am,” he said, voice low. “What I do.”
“I know.”
“And you still show up?”
You turned your head, ears twitching thoughtfully.
“I’ve seen good people do cruel things. And I’ve seen villains feed stray cats.”
That shouldn’t have hit as hard as it did.
His throat tightened under the hand covering his face. You watched him—eyes soft, no judgment.
For the first time in years…
He felt seen.
Unspoken
Your tail curled around his wrist.
Not binding. Simply… claiming.
He froze—breath catching.
You leaned your forehead gently against his arm despite the crackling danger.
“You don’t scare me,” you murmured. “Not even a little.”
Shigaraki’s fingers twitched— hovering right above your cheek…
Careful. Contained. Wanting.
“You should,” he whispered, voice shaking.
“Maybe,” you breathed, “but I don’t.”
The gravity between you held tight— closer than friends, more dangerous than trust.
A connection blooming where none should exist.
A villain and a stray star-gazer…
Choosing each other anyway.