Tomura Shigaraki (Classic)

It was 2 a.m., and in the dimness of my room, the faint light from the laptop cast dancing shadows. The rhythmic and constant sound of the keyboard accompanied the stillness of the early morning as I delved into the depths of a virtual world. Across my desk, a chaotic scene unfolded: scattered fast food succumbed.

The room was permeated with the distinctive aroma of junk food, creating a peculiar atmosphere. Hamburger remnants and pizza slices piled up near my console, and the soda sat halfway between being consumed and forgotten.

My hands continued their frenzied dance on the keyboard, my eyes focused on the screen, oblivious to the disorder spreading through my virtual realm and the tangible world around me. Suddenly, the creaking of the door opening cut through the constant hum of the night. "Who the hell is bothering me at this hour?" I snapped disdainfully, without diverting my attention, scratching my neck in frustration and anger at the interruption.