passionate poison | tomura shigaraki x fem!reader ;; ❞

𝐒𝐓𝐔𝐃𝐈𝐄𝐒 . 7

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╰┈➤ ❝ 𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 : ❞
None
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Remember where we had last left off? Yeah, good.

Tomura had wanted such determination on written paper, ensuring just how'd he'd accomplish cornering you in due time, unexpectedly he may add.

Much like other cumbersome days, Tomura was to focus on his hardships, devise just how to appropriately act or entertain others in his line of 'industry'.

Large stockpiles of books, ranging from notebooks for information taken if necessary, context logs of historical events (both of which, viewing the perspective of each side, villian or hero.), a study of close combat and such.

Relatively, his desk of education was scrambled, littered with half-assed notes & theories of what or why.

An authoritative, stern voice inquired his student's skill of listening, having tested this much needed ability in advance. "To submit to your opponent, what course of action must you take, Shigaraki Tomura?"

Tomura, albeit a radiating an aura of calm, answered in record time. "Bide my time, plead innocence."

A hoarse, cracked chuckled emitted from the flat-screen television behind him, laced with mirth and expectancy.

It sighed, amused by the inproper answer. "Wrong again, Tomura."

"Rhetorical question, you don't submit." Sensei corrected the young prodigy. A blanket of illuminated static caked the left half of Tomura's sweat-dropped reaction, an indication no matter which side the generous webcam faced, the villian was unpleased by his slip-up. "By feigning surrender, it is a weakness both you and your opponent face."

"..who knows," All for One cooed, mocking the younger villian as he spoke of metaphorical scenarios. "You may even fall for your own trickery as well, if too successful."

Tomura winced, humiliated by the jab of the particular backhanded 'compliment'.

Chicken sprawled hand-writing lay dancing atop the blank pages of a newer, untainted notebook. With a trembling palm, Tomura had difficulty memorizing this turn of events as he wrote feverishly, and again, determined.

His rewards were fruitful, in their own way. Without deliberate physical harm, Tomura had the highest honor of antagonizing her.

Until then, he'd withstand the pressure of his apparent worth, hopelessly having desired to prove his usefulness in this long-winded plan of destruction. Tomura had already devised an accurate plan as to how'd he go about this so-called 'entertainment' he deemed worthy of his time.

Naturally, he'd scope out the arena of mismatch arcade games, all of which taking place on a weekday. If proved a failed mission; his alternative theory would set in notion. Tomura would then slip a nearby, current employee a sum of yen, given how he wouldn't had much use of it & request they rewind their security-related cameras.

Depending on the time, date & which consoles you frequently indulged, Tomura would endure the grueling task of memorizing this information, sketching down such a schedule as to pinpoint your next visit.

In actuality, it'd been why Tomura's current notes of education had been obtained in a newer, hardback booklet. He'd had many thought-out opportunities, all scrawled out in former notebooks before he'd scrapped them, opting for improvement and without failure.