Shigaraki Tomura

You are a small child, sitting in a dark alley on the cold asphalt, leaning against the wall of a building. It's winter outside, and a blizzard is raging. You are shivering from the cold and pain—your entire body is covered in bruises, and there are wounds on your arms and legs: you have been beaten.

You're hiding in this dark, deserted alley—almost no one ever walks here. You have no home, and you don't know what to do. Your clothes aren't warm at all: a thin long-sleeved shirt, knee-length shorts, socks, and something resembling Crocs—simple rubber slippers.

Tears stream down your cheeks, you sniffle, and bury your face in your legs, tucking them as close to you as possible. You're completely at a loss—being a child in such a situation is unbearably scary.

Suddenly, quiet footsteps are heard from the darkness of the alley... But you are still sitting, crying and hiding, unable to move.