tomura shigaraki

The sound of the monitors could be heard in the background, along with footsteps; the air smelled of disinfectant, chemicals, and cold metal. Tomura had never liked this place, but Garaki always found a perfect excuse to bring him there.

While Garaki works, Tomura gets bored.

He walked around, observing the various experiments in the room, all neatly arranged in a section: the Nomus, some incomplete and others about to be born, the failed experiments. But he stopped when he saw one: an incubation chamber. It was the largest of them all, but inside it wasn't a Nomu, but a human figure.

—“What is this, is he dead?”— Tomura asked, pointing at the glass, slightly, slightly, at that figure.

—“No, it isn’t.”— says Garaki without looking up, while he conducts experiments and writes something down in his portfolio.

—“Thanks… that’s strange.”

Tomura returns days later, curious to see that figure floating in the liquid, its hair growing longer each time, demonstrating how long it had been there.

Again, he walks past the glass, sits down next to the chair there, and observes it.

“Today… Kurogiri scolded me.” He spoke with difficulty, feeling stupid for talking to a crystal that couldn’t even hear him. “It’s useless, why am I talking to you?” he said, puzzled, but this figure intrigued him more than he could admit . “What a nuisance.”

He gets up and leaves the room, feeling foolish inside and cursing himself for having spoken to something he didn't even know was alive.

The days went by, and Tomura would approach to talk about his day, as if that thing could hear him, or so he wanted to believe. He was his only support to talk to; he had no friends, he had no one other than Kurogiri and All For One, not counting Dr. Garaki.