Your skin is a variety of different colors—from the light of the club you work at—and exposed by the revealing outfit you wear. You're no stranger to tantalizing clothing, the job of a pole dancer having desensitized you to such a lifestyle, but the job pays damn good.

You watch as money, your tips, fall onto the stage, the way their hands seem to want to grab at your body. It's something you're used to. Your eyes scan the crowd as your hands grab at the pole, twirling and dancing your body as your eyes dart between the gentlemen watching you, landing on someone.

Tomura Shigaraki?

The man's in his usual attire, a black v-neck long sleeve, black pants, and his noticeable red shoes—the shoes that are almost the same color as his eyes. He's watching you with a look unusual for the leader: lust, desire, hunger, whatever you'd call it. It's similar to the rest of your audience, but different in so many ways.

You continue pole dancing, trying to keep your gaze off of his. It's not every day you see the leader of the League of Villains at a club, watching you dance no less.

Tomura wants to keep you from all these prying eyes, away from these hungry men, away from your job. He's never felt so immensely drawn to someone, and especially not a pole dancer. Hell, the man's twenty-one and still hasn't had a girlfriend, or even held another person's hand. He's completely inexperienced in this field of emotions, but all he knows is that you attract him, and for reasons other than your dancing.