A new playing field (UA Civil War Game)

A new life!

3rd POV:

The light bulb had given up a long time ago. Solemnly the screen still illuminated the room. The only sounds to be heard were the haste clicking the controller emitted and the anticipating breathing of the young man who held it.

The room was small and cramped. A bed was squished into the corner, a table stood against the opposite wall, staked with various stolen games, game consoles and a large screen. The rolls of the large dark blue gaming chair squeaked as they moved over the creaky, dark floor boards, worsening the already bad scratches riled deep into the old wood.

There was a small wardrobe in the corner, nearly completely stuffed with old black hoodies and sweatshirts, washed out jeans and holey underwear without any variety in color or style. Sprawled across the unmade bed was the only piece of clothing with even a little color that the young male possessed. A worn-out black hoodie with an image depicting a light blue kitten and a green bunny cuddling as well as a bright blue imprint 'Player 1' in bold letters across the back. The image had become grainy and the letters were faded, but the hoodie was loved nonetheless.

Right next to it sat a green bunny that had seen better days, its fur had eroded, the right ear was burned and both eyes had been replaced multiple times, thus being mismatched, yet it was still treated with care and cuddled every night.

The words 'Congratulations! You Win!' flashed over the screen and a happy tune was played, yet the young male only sighed. Setting down his controller he disentangled his legs from their criss cross position, straightened out his back from it's hunch and stood up. It had been the last level of this game and he was in no mood to start a new one. Glancing at the clock he realized that it was already way past 2 a.m. He took off his hoodie and ventured into the tiny bathroom across the hallway intent on preparing for bed. After using the toilet and brushing his teeth he leaned on the sink and stared at his reflection in the mirror. Gleaming scarlet eyes stared back, shaggy light blue hair framing a pale wrinkly yet still young face. Eyebags adorned his features and crusty lips were slightly open, his pale neck full of angry red scratches already itching again.

Hey Tenko-nii! You should use some lotion or your skin will be wrinkly and dry! That's not very nice!

Tenko dear. Please stop scratching your neck, it's a very bad habit that only causes you harm.

The young male shut his eyes tight at the painfully beautiful memories. Memories of bright green eyes, fascinated with every little thing, belonging to a small broccoli boy, and caring green eyes of the same shade, belonging to a kind green haired woman. He would never see those eyes again and it was all his fault, he was a monster.... Stopping himself from spiraling further he forced open his eyes and took a deep breath. Returning to his room he grabbed just another black hoodie and threw it on before leaving the room.

He took the old creaking stairs down and was met with the abandoned warehouse they used as their current hideout. They had switched hideouts quite a lot recently, always jumping just out of the hero's reach. The large and cold room was illuminated by weak yellowish light bulbs, dusty and tarnished. He started to make his way over to the door, the doorknob creaking when he pressed it down, when a low, smooth, quiet voice rang out over the room.

???: Where are you going?

Turning around he was faced with his misty caretaker, candle in hand and a stern look on his face. Kurogiri.

Kurogiri: Tomura, where are you going?

Tomura. Right. Tomura Shigaraki, that was his name. Not Tenko Shimura. And it never would be again.

Tomura: Out.

Kurogiri: Where to? It's half past 2!

Tomura: Just for a walk, to clear my head.