"So, what's the occasion?" y/n asked as she pushed herself through the towering stacks of files on the floor, nearly climbing over them.

"I'm relocating pretty soon. The neighborhood is a little more lively than it used to be," Giran replied. Y/n took the seat across from his desk and watched the older villain light up a cigarette. She was about to warn him about how smoking in this mess was basically asking for a fire, but y/n kept her mouth shut. She knew Giran would do it anyway.

"Relocating where?" y/n asked. Giran stood up and made y/n a hot drink on a portable stovetop. Y/n held her breath, worried that it would tip over.

"Haven't decided," he replied, sitting back down in his big leather chair; "I'll contact you when I find a better place."

Y/n looked around the room. It was like a tornado ran through the office. However, y/n knew Giran was better than that. Each pile was most likely there on purpose. After working under Giran's wing for so long, y/n was sure she could guess the pattern if she got to examine the piles.

Regardless of how organized or not the office was, taking everything down and moving was still an enormous task. "If you need help, let me know," y/n said before taking a small sip from the mug.

"Thanks, sweetheart," Giran began; "so are you here because you want to be here or because Shigaraki sent you here?"

Y/n wasn't sure how to answer that. She looked up to Giran, as sleazy as he could sometimes be. Y/n reminded herself that this was, in fact, a business visit. "Well, I need to order some things."

Giran pulled out an order form from his desk and slid it towards y/n. Usually, Giran would never suggest a client order their own stuff; clearly, he was far too comfortable around y/n.

Y/n stalled as she filled out the form, dreading the other reason why she came to visit. She slid the paper back to Giran, and he looked at it. "Interestin'," he muttered as he exhaled a puff of smoke.

"I wanted to ask you for a favor too." Y/n knew what was coming next. She bit the bullet and told Giran Tomura's plan.

"He wants to do what?" Giran asked, his voice had raised so high, it nearly cracked.

"Break into Tartarus," y/n replied quietly. She looked down at the warm drink in her hands and spotted her muddied reflection on the surface.

"And ya need me to what?" Giran asked, still clearly in disbelief.

"Tomura told me to look for someone that has a connection to Tartarus. And, well," she paused, trying to think of the best way to put her thoughts into words; "well, you have a lot of unusual connections, so I thought you could help me out, Maybe?"

Giran placed his head in his hands. "Y/n, you're smarter than this." Y/n felt her face heat up in embarrassment. "Have ya tried convincing him to change his mind?"

"Everyone has," y/n replied. Y/n placed the cup in her hands down onto Giran's desk.

"No, no. I mean. Convince him. Ya know, with your quirk." Giran's red eyes met with y/n's. He was trying to keep his calm, but she could easily see the worry behind his eyes.

"I can't imagine how Liar could possibly help in this case," y/n replied, sinking into her chair; "he's been thinking about this for months. I can't use Liar to erase the plan from his mind. Even if I could, if this is something he truly wants to do, he's bound to come up with the plan again. And then what? It'll be out of my control."

Giran looked up from his hands and sighed. "So, there's nothing anyone can do, eh?"

Y/n shook her head. "Probably not."

"I'll look into it for ya, I might know a guy." Giran didn't sound happy, y/n understood why. If she were in his position, she'd be upset too.

"Thank you, Giran, I-" y/n immediately held her tongue, hearing the door click open.

A large, overly muscular man with dark eyes stepped into the office. He looked to Giran, then to y/n. "I didn't know you had a daughter."

"Not by blood," Giran replied with a chuckle; "she wouldn't be nearly as cute if my genes were thrown in the mix." He cleared his throat. "I'll talk to you later, my next client just came in."

Y/n nodded and excused herself out of the office. Back when y/n did his paperwork for Giran, he made it very clear that she should never bring up that she's part of The League in front of anyone. Giran claimed it wasn't good for business if his clients' personal information could be readily accessible to another villain group.

Although y/n gave Giran a surprise visit, the older villain didn't say anything about having a client come in. Y/n pressed her back against the office door. The faint sounds of Giran and the villain's voice came through the door. After a moment of listening to a conversation she couldn't understand, y/n walked down the hallway.

Kurogiri wasn't due to pick her up anytime soon. Y/n weighed out her options. Her mind bounced back and forth between calling Kurogiri to pick her up or going shopping.

Y/n took a look out of the large window in the hallway. Down below, she watched people walk down the sidewalk, minding their business, and living their lives without a care in the world. Y/n remembered when she was like them.

Part of y/n will always long to wake up in her old bedroom and take that long walk to the flower shop. Back then, paying her bills, and when her next day off was going to be were the most stressful things in her life. In hindsight, it all seemed so petty.

Things had taken a hard turn, and everything was different now. She was trying to gather information for one of the most prominent villain organizations in the country. In a few months, y/n will probably be breaking into the world's largest maximum-security prison for reasons that y/n was still unsure about.

Y/n walked down the stairwell towards the front door. Each step echoed along the walls. Upon reaching outside, y/n squinted outside. She took a moment to watch the people before her walk. Y/n joined the crowd and followed behind them.

Tomura has been suggesting she use her quirk from time to time as practice. That was easier said than done. Tomura had set up a few simple rules for y/n to abide by when he first took her in. Rule number one: don't use your quirk on other League members.

Y/n was never sure how she should practice her quirk because of that rule specifically. The only people she ever saw regularly were from The League. At the same time, leaving the hideout was a rarity.

Y/n was awarded the same freedom as every other League member. When Tomura says it's time to lay low, she and every other member did as he said. Other than that, y/n was well aware she could come and go as often as she wanted. Y/n just didn't want to go anywhere, not alone. The outside world was a lot more terrifying than she thought. Heroes and the police made her nervous. And after the last time she was out on her own, y/n learned that anyone could be after her. Knowing all that, y/n felt anxious every time she left the hideout.

Y/n aimlessly walked around outside. She didn't have anywhere to go, so she kept her head down and followed the crowd. Y/n found her memory was a little fuzzy. After getting injured and spending months with Himiko, y/n couldn't remember where any of her favorite stores were.

For hours, y/n spent the day getting lost, finding her way, shopping, and repeating the process. Y/n carried the bags in her hands back up towards Giran's office. Muffled talking was echoing out through the heavy wooden door. Y/n couldn't decide if he was with another client or on the phone. Either way, she didn't want to bother him any more than she already had today. Y/n stood all alone in the hallway, waiting for Kurogiri's portal.

On the other side, y/n saw Tomura and Kurogiri. Tomura was sitting down on the couch, hunched forward almost like an animal in a defensive stance. Kurogiri, on the other hand, was standing upright, his arms crossed over his chest. Both men looked over to y/n in acknowledgment. Tomura was the first to look away as he went back to glaring at Kurogiri. Kurogiri, soon enough, turned away from y/n and back to his young leader.

The atmosphere in the hideout was dense. Y/n could feel her heart pounding as if she was going to start having a panic attack. Keeping her head down and her eyes to the floor, she walked past the men and headed for her room. Y/n knew the men were fighting about something while she was gone. As much as she wanted to stay out of it, y/n couldn't help but theorize why they're so angry.

As y/n took her bags into the room, she closed the door behind her. Now that she had a door between her and the tension going on in the other room, she could finally breathe again. Now with a clear mind, y/n tried guessing what was wrong as she put away all the free things she obtained with her quirk.

First was Tomura's things. She placed a stack of games on the end table on top of her journal. Some of the games were new releases she knew Tomura missed, while a few were games that she knew he didn't have.

Y/n remembered the first time she had bought Tomura a set of games. She recalled being lost and confused while also feeling out of place in the store. She wasn't familiar with videogames in general, let alone which ones Tomura already had.

This time was a lot smoother. Tomura and her had their game nights, where y/n would put away her books and watch him play. Sometimes, Tomura would ask if she wanted to join him, but y/n genuinely enjoyed watching him play. The stories were like her books, plus it was nice to see Tomura showing interested in something that isn't villainous. It was also quality time y/n got to spend with him, a chance to lay in bed and talk. Moments like that can be surprisingly rare.

She was much more familiar with Tomura's games. Y/n even managed to hold a conversation with a guy in the store, fooling him into thinking she's been a gamer for years. Then promptly convincing him to buy her all of Tomura's games.

Along with things for Tomura, y/n managed to swipe up a few bags full of gifts for Kurogiri as well. After seeing the men when she walked in, y/n opted to stay silent and avoid both of them for now. Y/n placed the bags in the corner of the room, deciding to give Kurogiri his gifts when they both cool down. As much as Kurogiri lectured Tomura about his temper, sometimes the shadow-like villain was no better.

Y/n rummaged through the bags and pulled out all the new clothes she got for herself. She opened the closet and wondered which outfits needed to be replaced. Y/n's train of thought was broken by the sudden voices.

On the other side of the bedroom door, y/n could hear Tomura raising his voice and then a short response from Kurogiri. Y/n guessed that they were either arguing about the Tartarus plan or Kurogiri had issues with her and Tomura's exchange last night. He seemed to continually switch between supporting Tomura on every decision he made and deciding that y/n was going to ruin The League somehow.

For a moment, y/n considered cracking the door open just enough to listen in. Y/n was dying to know if it was about her and Tomura. Whatever they were. Y/n took a moment to remind herself that she knew what she and the blue-haired villain were, she just hasn't had the chance to say it out loud. Y/n looked at the empty room she was standing in. Y/n knew this was as good a time as any to say it.

"Tomura is my..." y/n paused, struggling to get that last word out. For years she never felt like she and Tomura's relationship required a name. There were feelings, and that's all y/n needed to know. She took a deep breath and looked at herself in the mirror. Y/n tried once again. "Tomura," she began in a much more uplifted and positive tone; "leader of The League of Villains, h-he is my..." y/n stopped and hesitated. She took pauses between each word, y/n could hear her confidence fade the more y/n spoke.

Y/n stared at herself in the mirror. "No, it's fine, perfectly alright. He's..." her voice trailed off as she searched her vocabulary for a better word. Finally, y/n settled on one that fit everything perfectly; both his personality and how she felt about him. "He's mine."

Now that was settled, y/n slowly began removing clothes from the closet and making room for the new ones she just got. Y/n stopped as her hands skimmed the line of shirts hanging up. Her fingertips felt a familiarly soft fabric.

Y/n tugged on the dark red shirt and pulled it off its hanger. Now holding the midriff in her hands, y/n could feel the warm feeling in her chest harden into a cold lump. Emotions y/n kept in the back of her mind, came to the forefront as she held onto the shirt.

Tomura picked out this shirt unknowingly when he first decided to keep her under his watch. Little did he know that was one of the last things Aya had bought y/n before she got mixed up with The League. It was a birthday present. Now that y/n thought about it, this shirt was the last birthday present she's ever gotten.

Y/n's fingers ran down the fabric as she walked over to the bed and sat down. She found the hole on one of the sleeves. That was from the villain that attacked y/n when Dabi first led her around. The masked villain's acid saliva landed on the back of her hand. In a panic, y/n wiped it off on the shirt sleeve, creating the frayed hole. Near the back of the shirt, it seemed like it was lightly singed in one small spot. Y/n remembered this was Dabi's doing. He pulled her in close to him and fried the villain that nearly attacked her. Y/n shuddered as she recalled feeling his staples against her skin.

She pulled the shirt close to her face and felt the soft fabric rest along her cheek. Y/n tried to think back to happier memories, not the villain attack. "I wonder if Aya misses me any?"

Y/n's eyes welled up with tears, realizing there were no happy memories to recall. Aya was the one who suggested a possible link between her and The League. Yet another reason why the world outside of the hideout was so terrifying. Because long term friends can turn at any moment, no one can be trusted.

Pulling her face away from the shirt, y/n stopped and looked down at her lap. For a moment, y/n was simply existing. No thoughts. No emotions. Just her, sitting on the edge of the bed and living. "I wonder," y/n paused, finally allowing herself to think; "what do my parents think?"

Y/n wondered what must be running in her parents' heads. She's sure they were sad or, even more accurately, heartbroken over her disappearance. Y/n was their only child, and she had gone missing, she couldn't even begin to imagine what that must feel like.

Then Aya spoke up. Y/n wondered if her parents are mad at her, or if they even believe Aya's story. They were the only other living people who knew about her quirk. She was sure they'd piece something together, possibly quicker than anyone else.

Undoubtedly, the news broadcast of the Nomu attack should have been the final nail in the coffin. Y/n was able to tell that was her. She was positive her own parents would be able to recognize her. Y/n was curious why they haven't spoken up about the situation. Why only Aya so far? Y/n guessed that they were playing dumb to protect her because she was still their daughter.

She knew her parents have always loved her, even after the trouble she must have caused them. They had every right to be angry and upset with her. Y/n wouldn't be surprised if they even hated her a little.

One day, when everything is alright. Y/n hoped that she could visit her parents and tell them she was sorry in person. She knew there wasn't anything she could do to make amends. However, she wanted them to know at least that much.

Y/n had been in a good mood all day, still excited over her and Tomura, ready to see what happy memories she'd be making. Now, thinking about her past, she felt empty inside.

Her fingers ran over the hole once again. Y/n tried to get her mind off all the sad memories and thoughts by distracting herself with small, unimportant things. "I wonder if I can patch up this hole."

Y/n removed her shirt and threw the midriff on. She looked over the hole on the sleeve. Y/n couldn't begin to imagine how she could fix the shirt. As much as she'd love to hold onto it, y/n decided it was best to let it go.

Y/n's eyes glanced at the mirror. She scanned the girl looking back at her. A little bit of skin was revealed from under the midriff, and she could see the scar on her abdomen. Y/n approached the mirror and looked down at the injury.

She tried to pull the midriff down, wishing the shirt was longer. After giving up, she placed her arms over her stomach to cover it up.

The door swung open slowly. Y/n flinched as she came face to face with Tomura. The villain looked at her, and then over to the mirror that she was standing in front of. "What are you doing?"

"I..." y/n's voice trailed off. She wanted nothing more than to say she wasn't doing anything. However, things aren't that easy. Not with a quirk like hers. Y/n looked up and saw the villain eyeing her arms, which were still tightly wrapped around her stomach.

"Are you sick?" he asked. Y/n shook her head. "Then what are you hiding?" Y/n wanted to lie. She's never wanted to use her quirk so badly in her life. Y/n looked away, unable to face Tomura nor the mirror, and lowered her arms. "I don't get it."

Y/n looked up at Tomura in an instant. "M-my..." Y/n fumbled with her sleeves, awkwardly.

"What? That scar?" he asked; "I've seen it before. Remember, I dressed your wounds."

Y/n felt nervous and insecure. She's never felt so small in her life. Surely someone like Tomura would want someone flawless. Y/n could feel Tomura's eyes on her. Never has waiting for a response caused physical pain before.

Suddenly, the scar on her stomach, as well as the nearly invisible scar on the back of her hand, began to bother y/n even more. Other things that y/n typically didn't spend much time thinking about was now a problem. Everything from the extra pudge in a particular area to the fact that her hair wasn't always fixed up pretty every day to how it seemed like being in a coma couldn't fix the rings under her eyes. They were all flaws.

"I don't see what the big deal is," Tomura finally said. She could tell he was trying and failing to hide the mild irritation in his voice.

"Don't," y/n sighed, reminding herself to be honest; "don't you think it's an eyesore?" Y/n's vision began to blur as her eyes welled up with tears. She was already prepared for Tomura to agree with her.

He placed a hand firmly on y/n's shoulder and led her to the bed. "Sit," he ordered. Y/n sat down at the edge of the bed and looked up at Tomura. She wiped the forming tears from her eyes with her sleeve.

The villain turned around, his back facing y/n, he grumbled as he looked over his shoulder towards y/n. Tomura pulled off his black, long sleeve shirt. Shirtless, he approached y/n.

Tomura pointed to a scar than ran down his left forearm. "The wound I had when I stumbled into your house." Tomura moved his hand to his upper abdomen. "This one too."

He looked over to one shoulder and then to the other, before pointing to yet another scar. "I got this one from Stain." Tomura sat down next to y/n and showed her his arm. "This one is hard to see, it's a small scar from a bullet. The USJ attack. I think I still have another one similar to it."

Tomura led y/n on a tour of his upper body. He explained where and when he got each scar. If he knew who caused the injury, he'd mention that as well. Sometimes, he'd stop and tell a short story about the experience.

"I don't know why you're crying over a scar," Tomura began; "it's not a big deal."

At hearing Tomura's words, y/n felt her insecurities deflate like a balloon. A wave of relief washed over her. She was definitely still self-conscious about all her flaws. However, the fact that she knew Tomura, who doesn't know a thing about consoling anyone, genuinely meant what he said made things better.

Tomura was unapologetically honest when it came to how he feels or what he thinks. Sometimes, it's clear he doesn't understand what's going on with himself, let alone how to put his emotions into words. Some would fault whoever raised him for somehow stunting his social development, but not y/n; she admired him for that very trait. It was rare to see someone be so brutally honest, yet utterly innocent to the situation at hand.

"Do you feel better now?" Tomura asked; "I want to sleep, and you're not keeping me up all night crying over a little battle wound no one cares about."

Y/n nodded. "Yes, thank you, Tomura." Y/n leaned forward and gave him a small kiss on his cheek. She could see Tomura's eyes uncomfortably dart around as if he was doing everything he can to avoid making eye contact.

The villain slipped under the covers, and y/n followed suit, turning the lights off before laying down. Y/n rested her head on his shoulder, feeling the cold emanating from his skin. She was surprised someone so cold could make her feel so warm inside.

"Tomura?" y/n lightly called out.

"What?" Tomura grumbled.

"You never mentioned any of the scars on your face," y/n cuddled into his shoulder.

"I'm trying to sleep," he growled.

Although it was too dark to see, y/n was beaming. She let out a soft laugh. "So, tomorrow?"

"Fine, whatever, tomorrow," he replied as he yawned.