Sunsets

Yakisoba

"What do you mean the nomu hasn't returned?"

Shigaraki flinched at the rough voice. It made him feel like a failure. He didn't want to make Sensei mad, afterall the man was the bluenette's savior.

"We pulled back after the heros killed the main few nomus, taking Project 47 with us. Before we began through my portal, he flew off." Kurogiri spoke up blandly.

"And you couldn't find it?" The words were extremely pointed. Shigaraki looked down at the ground slightly.

It was hard not to show weakness when someone you look up to isn't happy.

"Sensei, it was the winged player. It had over four speed quirks and a few strength quirks infused into its DNA. We barely saw the darned thing take off. It couldn't be tracked." Shigaraki gulped, trying to pull his personality together.

He couldn't be childish while doing buisness.

Sensi taught him how useless children were.

How amazing children were.

How naive they were.

How stupid they were.

At a young age, Shigaraki learned to grow up. And at a young age, Shigaraki learned to be serious. Sensei taught him to hone into his strengths and obsess over his weaknesses.

More times than not, perfection was key to winning.

But perfection was a lie.

A deception.

The illusion of perfection was key to winning.

It's what made kids so gullible.

Gosh, kids are so easily manipulated.

A sigh was heard from behind the screen, and Shigaraki could practically hear the near-immortal villain rubbing his timples.

"I will keep an eye out for Project 47 as it was one of the strongest, yet one that lacked a good regeneration quirk. If you do see it, notify me immediately. Otherwise begin working on your next plan. Good job Tomura."

Shigaraki bowed before hearing the audio click out. He almost fell to the floor in relief.

His mind was swirling with emotions. He couldn't pinpoint many, but he knew he needed to relax.

Video games would suffice.

He straightened up and slinked off to his room, leaving Kurogiri in the bar.

Dabi was stressed. Sometimes he checked in on his family from the outside.

Obviously.

But sometimes he wouldn't check on them for a plethora of months. It usually depended on his fluctuating mental state.

Right now, he was being whined at by a certain blood-obsessed teenager.

"But Dabiiiiiiii." She whined, plopping down onto the mattress in the middle of Dabi's room. "They said if I go out that I  have to go with someone. Everybody else said no." She sighed, her chest collapsing as the air left her lungs. She rolled her head to the side and closed her eyes, feigning boredom turned to death.

Peaking open through squinted eyelashes, she watched the young adult in front of her. They were merely seven years apart, and met before finding the League.

They met in an alleyway and began helping each other on occasions.

Rare occasions.

Which turned into a mutual toleration of each other.