Her Touch ~Tomura Shigaraki x OC AU~

Chapter 29: Tenko's Dance

Illika

We are two bodies lying naked on the floor.

Legs still tangled with legs. Fingers tracing invisible shapes on chests and arms. Eyes locked on eyes as breaths roll through the air.

I lay, my head on his chest, listening to the slow and steady beat of his heart as his arms hold me close. His body heat is warm, but so nice and comforting. It chases the chill of the night way.

As we lay, our gazes are fixated on the burning lights of the city. They shimmer and twinkle, brilliant and bright. Or maybe - just maybe - as we lay, we are sneaking settled peeks of our reflections in the windows. Just two naked people, completely exposed and vulnerable in the night atmosphere, utterly absorbed in each other's arms. Hair messy and disheveled, and faces flushed with swollen lips.

And then again, maybe it's not any of that. Maybe we're just two naked people enjoying holding and being held by each other. Simple and straightforward.

He pulls me a bit closer, pressing his lips to the crown of my head, then speaks lowly. "I'm sorry. For everything."

I knit my brows, looking up at him. "What do you mean? What do you have to be sorry for?"

"Running. Pushing you away. Being an ass." He lifts my scarred left arm, running his thumb over the jagged skin. "This." He brings his lips to my partially numb fingertips and kisses them. "Especially this. I'm so sorry."

I frown, then sit up, cuffing the side of his face with my palm. "Tomura, I've already told you. You don't have to apologize for that. You didn't mean for that to happen."

Now, he sits up, cuffing my wrists with his gloved hands gently, then holding them close to his chest. He is so warm and so solid. Just as tangible as I am. God, I love this man.

He presses his lips to my palms, speaking into them. "That doesn't matter. It still happened. I still did this, and I will spend the rest of my life making up for it."

"But what if I don't want that?" My heart breaks at hearing him talk this way.

He shakes his head. "It's not for you to decide. This is my sin, and thus, my cross to bear."

I'm not used to him talking like this. To sound this serious and mature and...sure. And his eyes - as they peer into mine - are filled with so many emotions. Too many to properly decipher, but I do see one that stands out above all the others. And that would be the unmistakable look of pleading.

He wants this. He wants to punish himself, despite how sadistic - or I suppose masochistic, in this case - it may sound. He wants to spend his time repenting and beating himself up. I don't understand why, but at the same time, I do get it.

It is his demons that did these things. It is his demons he lost control over. It is his demons he must exercise, and their wrongs he must rectify. So, no, I don't get it. Not wholly, but I do understand it to a degree.

I sigh, defeated. "Fair. But promise you won't do anything stupid or reckless."

A soft smile bows his lips as he reaches over, brushing a strand of hair from my face. "It's too late for that. Loving you is the most reckless thing I have ever done."

He presses his lips to mine, and we once again find ourselves swooped away into another moment of bliss and passion - as corny as that may sound. Just as deep and wide as before, the two of us inhaling and exhaling each other, filling our lungs with each other like oxygen. And maybe, in some ironically twisted way, we are.

We are twisted. We are two very fucked up people with very strange and odd ideas of love. And maybe to most, it isn't healthy. But at the same time, we are villains. We have done bad things to not just each other but to so many others.

I'll take this morally gray storm over a self-righteous prick playing hero. I will take him over the misplaced trust of the collective. I will take his messy truth over a pretty lie. Any day, all day. Every day.

He kisses me softly, then looks down at me, his eyes filled with the soft glow of the lamps. His expression is content but also tormented all the same, and I don't understand why.

"What's wrong?" I ask, reaching up for him.

He takes my hand, pressing his lips to my palm again, then meets my eyes. "I...I don't know how to ask this."

"Just ask it." I chuckle, trying to keep the atmosphere light, but his expression remains troubled. "Tomura? For real. You're starting to worry me. What's wrong?"

His eyes melt with mine, that silent plea of an answer beckoning. Then: "Don't laugh."

"Okay...I won't." Why does this have me worried?

He chews his lips, sighing. "For a while now, I've been curious, wondering what it would be like..."

"What, what would be like?"

More fidgeting. "My name."

I knit my brows. "Tomura? What about your name?"

He shakes his head. "No. Not that one. The other one. My real name."

Oh. Oh, that name. His birth name. The name his parents gave him before everything went so horribly wrong.

"What about it?" I ask. He still hovers over me, still wrapped in this dance.

His eyes fall, almost as if he is thinking, then: "For most of my life, I have been Tomura Shigaraki. I lost the bit of me that was Tenko Shimura. I don't even really remember that version of me." His eyes bore into mine. "But once - for just one moment - I want to imagine that all those terrible things didn't happen. That I didn't kill my family. That my father didn't abuse me. That Tenko didn't die that night." He comes close, burying his face in my chest, his voice becoming muffled. "For once, I want to know what it would feel like to be loved as him. As Tenko. To see if it'd feel different or the same. It's stupid."

Maybe it is strange. To an outsider, anyway, but knowing what I know, I get it. I understand what he means. As Tenko, he was abused, then feared. As Tomura, he was feared and now loved. But Tenko? What did Tenko ever get? Scars and childhood trauma.

"No, it's not stupid," I say, running my fingers through his hair. "Not at all. Here, look at me."

He rises, our eyes once again meeting and I see it. It is Tomura's face. His eyes and his lips. His scars and his shaggy hair, but it is the desperation of the past asking what if ringing beyond all that.

I smile, pressing my lips to his, whispering, "I love you, Tenko Shimura."

At this, his eyes widen as a new light floods into them, relief and assurance floating at the surface. Then he smiles, kissing me softly and sweetly. "Thank you."

This isn't his redemption. This isn't his atonement for all he's done, but rather, a curiosity that has been answered. At least, a little bit anyway. A scenario that was denied to him the moment his life was turned upside down all those years ago. But I do mean it. I mean these words. I love Tomura Shigaraki.

And I love Tenko Shimura.

**Hello, lovelies! So, though they did some more smexy time in this chapter (it was hinted at, not really described), it wasn't the focus at all. Instead, we took a look at Shiggy and saw some vulnerable parts of him. That was the aim. I'm currently typing this in a different place that is not my usual writing nook, so I'm kinda struggling. Still, I wanted to type something. I will say this story will be coming to a close very soon so we have a few more chapters before the cut-off for any questions. If there are none, that's fine. Just thought I'd give the opportunity, but there will be a Fun Facts section regardless. But I will see y'all in the next chapter! As always, thank y'all oh, so freakin' much for everything! Y'all are amazeballs! Wuv yous!! <3**

-Noel Ross

P.S. "Hold Onto Me" by Mayday Parade (I love this song.)