A Grey Thin Line

9

Shigaraki Tomura is an ugly son of a bitch, and yet his voice sounds even worse. “I have to say, you’re a hard person to catch alone, Midoriya.” The smile Izuku can see out of the corner of his eye is downright mocking, “Or should I call you Kuroko?”

Izuku stays stock still. The four fingers enclosed around his neck are rough and dry, like sandpaper, he feels his skin itch and prickle at the sensation alone. It feels nothing like when Shigaraki almost disintegrated his throat a few months ago, somehow it's worse. His hand is wrapped around the nape of Izuku’s neck, if he decides to place his pinky down, Izuku’s spine will be the first thing to go after the initial layer of skin. So Izuku doesn’t move, he doesn’t even dare to breathe.

Shigaraki keeps talking. “I spent weeks imaging what I would do once I got my hands on you. But now?” he squeezes, enjoying how Izuku flinches, “You’re not so tough without your meddling heroes, are you? There’s no one here to save you this time, no last minute hail-mary. Take away the tools and the mask and you’re just a Quirkless nobody, yet you managed to get his attention. What makes you so special, hm?” He shakes Izuku again when he doesn’t reply, “Answer me, dammit.”

The situation is so close to fucked it’s not even funny. Shinsou and Kahiro are nearby, if they come back to this there’s too high of a chance they’ll get hurt. People are just walking by, they don’t spare so much as a glance towards Izuku and his captor. He knows better than to cry for help, past experience tells him it won’t do any good.

“I don’t know why.” He keeps his eyes forward, he knows he won’t like the expression on Shigaraki’s face. “The best guess would be he didn’t want a third party messing with his plans. It’s like you said,” Izuku grins even though his hands are shaking against his thighs. “I’m just a Quirkless nobody. Honestly, the world would probably be better off if I just did what Bakugou told me to and leapt off the roof.”

Shigaraki’s shoulders are shaking. It takes Izuku a moment to recognize it as a laugh instead of a seizure. “Ah, man. I thought I’d never see the day. This world hates you, just as much as it hates me”

Yeah, rub some more salt in there, why don’t you

The laughing dies down into a few chuckles here and there. “Tell you what.” Shigaraki lets go of Izuku’s neck, “I’ll let you live just this once, one kindred soul to another. But,” he leans way too into Izuku’s personal space, “If you interfere again, I won’t hesitate. Got it?”

Internally, Izuku is boiling. Is this walking talking dandruff commercial really having pity on his enemy? He’s not stupid enough to critique the guy while his hand is still in neck-touching distance though. Still, he can feel the anger burning a hole through his insides as he stares at the floor ahead of him. “Got it.”

Shigaraki stands and dusts off the front of his pants, like it’d do anything to remove the goddamn skin flakes clinging to the material. “It’s been an enlightening conversation, Kuroko.” he walks away, raising a hand in goodbye before he vanishes into the crowd.

Izuku stays where he’s sitting, even though he wants nothing more than to run and curl up in a corner somewhere. Shigaraki was able to get close, even in a public space, isolating himself right now would be suicidal. His hands shake so bad he almost misdials the number on his phone.

Kuroda picks up on the fourth ring, “What’s up, kid? I thought you were shopping with your friends?”

Izuku clings to his mentor’s voice like the lifeline it is. “Kuroda? I--” his breath catches, “I need someone here.”

“Where are you right now?” Kuroda’s voice is sharp, the kind of sharp he only gets when shit’s serious.

“Kiyashi shopping ward.”