Her Decay ~Tomura Shigaraki x OC AU~

Chapter 14: Freeze, Comfort, or Burn

Illika

I can't do anything right.

Nothing I do is good enough. Every mission. Every encounter. Everything I do. None of it is good enough. Not for him. Not for Tomura. If I so much as walk into the same room as him he glares. And then there are the constant remarks – where I messed up, where I went wrong, how I screwed up. Every time.

And the others have witnessed his coldness. Twice, Toga, and Mr. Compress are almost always left in the same astonishment as me. They try to reassure me. Dabi doesn't seem to care one way or the other. He is nonchalant and tells me it is what it is. And as for Spinner – well, he surprises me. I was almost sure he wouldn't care. However, even he whispers and tells Tomura he's being a bit too hoarse with me.

That doesn't seem to matter, though. After my screw-up with that bank robbery three weeks ago, I can do nothing right. I don't even think I can say my own name right when it comes to him.

And honestly, at first, it lowered my self-esteem. I felt incompetent and as if I'm not good enough. Almost like joining the PLF was more than I could chew. But that feeling has since worn off.

Now I'm just pissed.

Grand commander or not, who does he think he is? Judging me and making me feel small. I am not that. I am not small. I am not insignificant. I am not insufficient. I have been doing things like this – lying, cheating, and stealing – since I was a child. If anything, I have perfected my craft.

So I missed one person that day. What would he have done? He was the only one who remembered. Even if he phoned the police, they would have thought he was crazy, especially given no one else would have remembered and the fact the cameras didn't catch us. Hell, maybe his own knowledge would have been held against him, holding him as a suspect.

It was a screw-up. It was an error in an overall smooth mission, and I acknowledge that. But the constant nagging and bitter remarks are starting to make their way under my skin, digging and nipping like a strange irritation. And it's an irritation that is starting to fuel my own disdain for Tomura Shigaraki.

Currently, I don't know where he is. For all I know, he could be off observing another member of the PLF and judging their work. Though, given what I've seen for the four weeks I have now known him, I'm certain I am the only person here he has watched. God knows he hasn't kept a leash on Dabi or the others. If they wanted to fuck up any mission, he'd let them. But me? No. Not me. Not Illika Hartz.

I let out a sigh and glance up from the book I've been trying to read, my gaze falling on the rain gliding down the glass. For six weeks I have been here, and over the course of those six weeks, winter has dissolved, evaporating as spring has finally blossomed.

Below the trees edging the walking trails have finally bloomed, their once bare limbs are now covered by leaves and tiny blossoms. Snow and ice have melted, being replaced by vibrant green grass and luscious shrubbery. And the formerly bitter days twitching with a hint of chill have grown warmer and warmer, the breeze always inviting. But the days have also grown wetter and wetter.

It rains often. The days are often filled with dense clouds and rain-glossed sidewalks. Droplets cling to trees and plants before falling and seeping into the soil. And it always smells so nice and refreshing.

It's nice. Even now, as I try to swallow my pent frustration, it acts as some kind of distraction. As I sit alone in this empty library, perched in this window seat, I can't help but start to relax. Unclench my jaw. Unflex my muscles. Fall to the lull of rain tapping the window. Just –

"I didn't know anyone came in here."

And relaxation gone.

I turn, my eyes falling on a face that I have grown quite familiar with. A face with scars and damaged skin. A face with thin lips pressed in a flat line. And a face that I suddenly want to punch with a chair.