😭

😭

starting over ᖴOᖇ ᗪᑌᗰᗰIEᔕ

✎ᝰ a scrapbook of memories from yours and tomura’s new life, from ex-villains to totally normal citizens

“i don’t think i’ve ever had this much stuff in my life,” tomura remarks, staring at the pile of boxes sitting in the living room. a living room. the last time he had a proper living room was probably in his childhood home.

you huff, blowing a strand of hair out of your face as you drop a box onto the couch. joints pop in your back when you straighten, stretching your arms above your head with a wince.

“your gaming crap probably takes up half of it,” you reply, cracking a grin when he fixes you with a glare.

“it’s not crap.”

“whatever,” you snicker.

you think the league has stayed in hideouts nicer than this apartment. the roof leaks, the back door doesn’t lock, and your neighbors are a nightmare. the wallpaper is stained and peeling in places, you constantly have to guess whether you’ll have water or not, and when you had gone to unlock the front door, you nearly dislocated your shoulder trying to dislodge the key.

still, it’s yours. a place just for you and tomura, where you don’t have to be constantly looking over your shoulders wracked with paranoia. you were lucky to get a place at all, given your hasty departure from japan after the war. giran's american contacts had been rather useful there. it may not be a big city penthouse, but it’s yours.

and besides, just the view of the waterfront just a little ways outside makes it all seem worth it. you lean against the spindly balcony railing, pressed up against tomura in the cramped space as the two of you gaze out at the ocean. the world seems so much bigger like this, the waves stretching out endlessly into the horizon. so much room for possibility…

“say cheese!”

tomura gets no warning other than your evil giggle before he’s awoken by the bright flash of the camera you’d shoved in his face first thing in the morning.

he yells out, burying his face back in the covers to hide from the excessive light. you hear his grouchy whine, muffled beneath the fabric. “fuck was that for?”

“first morning in the house,” you reply, climbing back atop the bed to sit beside the tomura-shaped lump of blankets. you prod his shoulder, shaking out the polaroid while you hand him the camera with a smile. “now take mine.”

his face appears from the blanket, scowling in disbelief at you. he takes the camera, though, and snaps a quick picture of you before tossing it back and flopping back over to sleep some more.

those two matching polaroids are the first decorations you put up on your dingy little fridge.

“bill, mortgage, ‘nother bill…jury duty? what the fuck?”

tomura stares in bewilderment at the various papers strewn about the chipped kitchen table. “how did we get jury duty? we haven’t been here even a month!”

“are we even legal citizens…?” you wonder, taking a seat beside him. the chair creaks the second you put any weight on it. 

“i think villainy was easier than this. sure as hell was less expensive too,” he grumbles. 

“yeah,” you agree, with a nervous laugh. “uh, tomu?”

“yeah?”

“would now be a bad time to mention the puppy i brought home?”

“the WHAT?!”

“all normal people have dogs! i was trying to help our cover!!”

the puppy wanders out of you room as if on cue, trotting on chubby legs all the way up to tomura. it nudges his leg with its big head and whining. 

“i passed the shelter on my way home from work and i just wanted to see but then she was looking at me with those giant eyes and i couldn’t just leave her and the lady at the counter said she was abandoned in a park and how sad is that! so i brought her home. please please please can we keep her?”

you wait breathlessly for his answer, leg jittering, and watch the way his eyes go big and then soften when he leans down to scratch the puppy behind the ears. 

“yeah,” he whispers, more to the dog than to you. “we can keep her.”

you know something is wrong when you enter the apartment and hachi is barking. she’s normally rather quiet, aside from the goofy yips she makes when you play with her or the occasional woof during a seagull chase. 

she comes running out of the kitchen when you dislodge the key from the lock, and that’s when you see the smoke. 

“what the hell—”

you’re about to dash in when tomura comes bustling out, looking like a mess. strands of wispy white hair that managed to escape his ponytail hang in his flushed face, his hoodie is rolled up to his forearms (which are both covered in various sauce stains), and there’s a soot smudge on his cheek. 

“don’t go in there!” he instructs, breathless and blocking the doorway with his body. 

you stare at him, dumbstruck. “tomura, is something on fire?!”

“not anymore,” he replies. you both jump when a loud metal clanging echoes, what sounds like a bunch of pots and pans toppling over. 

there’s banging on the far side of the wall (probably your godawful neighbors) and you and tomura both yell “fuck off!” in unison. 

when your gazes meet again you both burst out laughing (well, you’re laughing. tomura snorts and then watches you giggle with a fond little smile). 

“i know i said i’d make dinner tonight, but i fucked up your favorite,” tomura admits, scowling at the nightmare you see peeking out of the kitchen. “sorry for the mess.”

you hum, coming forward to brush the soot smudge off his cheek. “that’s okay. i was gonna say i was craving pizza anyway.”

“god, i love you,” he whispers, trailing after you as you roll up your sleeves and head into the kitchen to face the unholy mess. 

it’s some time in the middle of the night when tomura shakes you awake. you squint into the dark, feeling around until you find his hand. 

“tomu…?”

“wake up,” he whispers softly, giving your hand a gentle tap. “c’mon, let’s go.”

your heart sinks for a brief second, memories of fleeing with the league rising to your muddled mind. “what happened? are we in trouble?”

his soft chuckle eases the fit of panic that had been rising in your chest. “no, not in trouble. just wanna get out of here for a little while. let’s go somewhere, yeah?”

you yawn, sitting up to lean against him. “mm, m’kay. where to?”

he leaves his hoodie in your lap, nudging his head against yours affectionately. “no idea. c’mon, get dressed. i’ll grab our stuff and meet you out front.”

tomura lets you sleep in the car, the hum of the engine and the quiet, staticky radio lulling you to sleep until the sun is rising in the sky. when you wake, the ocean is no longer is sight. you’re surrounded instead by miles of empty desert, the occasional cactus and — is that a tumbleweed?

“where are we?” you ask, sitting up in the passenger seat. you’ve never seen the sky in such vibrant reds and oranges, lit up by the rising sun.

“the middle of butt-fucking-nowhere,” he replies, squinting from the brightness of the sun. “we can pick up a map once we come across civilization again. figure out where we’re going before this car gives out.”

“good idea.” 

‘civilization’ ends up being a tiny gas station where you pick up snacks, breakfast burritos the size of your heads, an unholy amount of energy drinks (mostly for tomura), and of course, the map. 

you sit on the hood of the car while tomura leans against it, shading his face and grumbling about the sun. 

“you were the one who drove us all the way out here,” you tell him, snorting to yourself as you study the map. you’re somewhere near nevada, apparently. your eyes find the little star at the bottom and your grin widens. 

“oh, i know where we’re going.”

of all the things tomura thought he’d do in his life, getting married to you in vegas and having elvis officiate was not one of them. but here he is, at two in the morning in the city of lights downing a shot with you in the parking lot of a drive-thru chapel, officially a married man.

and he’s looking at you, laughing, with your hair half in your face and bright eyes and cheeks flushed just a little from the alcohol. there’s a lot tomura might have changed in his life if he had the chance. but not this. not you. and if he had the chance to do it all again? for you, he’d do anything. 

★ -> smau + bonus lore !

you and tomura send the league a postcard from vegas that says “just married!” and receive a variety of bizarre “wedding gifts” back

your puppy’s name is a NANA reference and you end up naming the cat “nana” to match

tomura works from home (bc he’s antisocial and also more recognizable than you in the event anyone were to find out your identities) so he makes you lunch frequently

^ generally househusband material

having free time is weird for you guys now so you decide to take up a bunch of new hobbies together including but not limited to:

jigsaw puzzling, birdwatching, assembling lego sets, crochet, baking, and the list goes on

your mention this to your coworkers and they call you an old married couple….

you’re not technically allowed to have pets in the apartment so you’ve had to come up with some insanely elaborate shenanigans to hide hachi and nana around your landlord

dividers by @/aquazero and @/strangergraphics — this got away from me :) i hope this isn’t like,,,, ooc but wtvvv let me liveee 🫶🫶i really like the patchwork layout of it, tho i hope its not likeee off-putting or choppy </3 i missed writing for him. anyways much love from kitty !