Music, sound effects, and aggressive keyboard clacking filled the room. A golden glow faintly poured in from in between the thick, black curtains to no avail. The unnatural blue hue from Tomura's screen lit the bedroom much brighter than the sunlight.

Tomura's room was surprisingly warm. Kurogiri says it's because he always leaves his electronics running even when he isn't home. That made sense. It also explained the faint electrical smell that lingered in the air.

I sat on the edge of Tomura's bed with his pillow in my arms. My mouth partially hung open, and eyes fixated on the computer screen he sat in front of. An array of blues, greens, reds, and yellows flashed. My gaze darted around, trying to keep up with the continually changing imagery in front of me, but I couldn't. I didn't know what the game was about, but it was impossible to look away.

From what I gathered, Tomura's character was a field worker who was pushed to fight against an evil demon lord. But he had to battle against his underlings first. I wasn't sure, though. When I asked Tomura about it, he shrugged me off.

Tomura leaned forward a bit, completely entranced by the game he was playing. He seemed focused on whatever was going on. He had a deep frown on his face, and his eyes narrowed. He muttered to himself in a harsh tone as he played. I leaned into the pillow, wholly entranced.

The screen went black, and a small box filled with text popped up. "Goddamn it!" He slammed his fist against the desk. I jumped. The computer mouse jumped as his balled hand touched the wooden surface.

I covered my mouth and looked over towards the slightly cracked open door. The pillow fell from my lap, and soundlessly hit the floor. "Don't say stuff like that!" I shushed Tomura from behind my hands.

"Stuff like what?" Tomura snapped. He spun around to face me. His arms were folded across his chest as he slumped into his seat—Tomura's lips we're pressed together in a tight line, and his sharpened eyes glared in my direction.

"The swears," I whispered. My hands still covered my mouth as I glanced over towards the door with worry in my eyes. "Dad will hear!"

Tomura grumbled to himself. I could barely hear him talking under his breath. Amongst the muttering, I did manage to make out one thing—this kid.

"Kid?" I crossed my arms and pouted. "I'm the same age as you!"

I paused. No, that's not right. "I'm..." I hummed in thought; "only a few months younger than you. So, basically, the same age!"

Tomura scoffed and returned to his computer. The room went silent as Tomura clicked the mouse, making the little pop-up disappear, and the colorful main menu took its place. "Kurogiri doesn't care if we swear. I've known him for a long time."

"Yeah, well, I met him first." I sat up straight and crossed my arms. "And last time I checked, he does care."

Tomura repeated himself, insisting that Kurogiri doesn't mind cursing. In an even more sure tone, I informed him that he does care.

I pulled my legs onto the bed and sat criss-cross. My bottom lip pushed out in a pout. "I'm not risking it. You can, though." Tomura shook his head as he started up another game.

Music rang through his computer's speakers. The colorful visuals caught my attention. I watched Tomura fight his way towards the boss yet again. My breath hitched as the little battle ensued. Inside, so I didn't distract Tomura, I cheered him on. He's been trying to beat this boss for hours, and I really hoped he'd win.

Tomura slumped into his chair. "Fucking hell," he sighed. Tomura slung his arm over his eyes.

"Language, Tomura Shigaraki." I nearly jumped out of my skin as soon as Kurogiri's voice sounded.

Tomura groaned as he pulled his arm away. He glanced over towards Kurogiri. "Whatever," he muttered.

His cherry-red eyes looked over towards me. I told you so, I mouthed.

Tomura glared. "Shut up." Tomura's voice was laced with venom, but I couldn't help but smile. Something in the back of my head was screaming that I wasn't in any actual danger, he was just a little irritated.

Kurogiri turned towards me, and I smiled up at him. "Well, it's good to see that you two are getting along well enough." I nodded, Tomura rolled his eyes and returned to his game.

"Y/n." I looked up at Kurogiri. "Would you like to accompany me? Im about to start cooking dinner."

No. I really didn't want to. Tomura's game was too exciting and helping him cook dinner sounded boring. "Okay, dad."

I got off of Tomura's bed and followed Kurogiri outside. The colorful flashing lights caught my attention, and I looked over my shoulder one last time. The sound from his game was easily audible as we walked down the hallway. It was only muffled once Kurogiri closed the door, separating the hall and the rest of the house.

"Would you like to cut the vegetables?" Kurogiri asked.

A thought gnawed at the back of my head. Without thinking about it, I spoke my mind. "Tomura Shigaraki doesn't like vegetables."

"Tomura Shigaraki can remove them himself," Kurogiri replied. "He's done it plenty of times before."

I crossed my arms and cocked my head to the side. "But if Tomura Shigaraki doesn't want to? We already know he doesn't like those things, so why not leave it out? Doesn't it save everyone a bit of effort."

Kurogiri paused, his golden, wispy eyes flickered in my direction, a sign that he's upset. I backtracked immediately. "But, you know Tomura Shigaraki better than me."

I kept my head down as I passed by him. As soon as I entered the kitchen, I grabbed the cutting board and a sharp knife. A blackened fog manifested a few inches above the countertop. Carrots, leeks, and a small collection of vegetables fell out of the portal.

The knife in my hand shined against the kitchen lights. "Very small pieces, please." I nodded and began to chop up the carrots.

The smell of freshly cut vegetables brought back memories. Flashes of my childhood came rushing to me.

Kurogiri and I used to cook dinner all the time. At the time, he encouraged me to use my quirk as often as possible so I used it while cutting vegetables. My favorite thing to do was have little paper people cut them while I watched over them. Sometimes, if they were feeling particularly helpful, I'd have them grab me spices.

Now, I wasn't too sure about those memories. What if they were fake? I couldn't get the thought out of my head.

"You're unusually quiet tonight," Kurogiri began. "Does it have to do with whether or not I should be making Tomura Shigaraki eat vegetables?"

I shook my head, and smiled at him. After everything I've been thinking about, that was the last thing on my mind. "I'm alright, just thinking."

Footsteps from the other side of the kitchen slowly made their way towards me. A slight shadow loomed over me as Kurogiri stepped in front of the light. "Thinking about what? If you don't mind me asking, that is."

"Just thinking about- hm, well..." I didn't know how to explain what I was thinking about. My childhood? It still felt like last week.

"About... how we used to cook together all the time." My face fell flat for a moment, and I muttered under my breath. "At least, I think we used to."

"What was that?" Kurogiri asked.

I shook my head. "Nothing, dad."

Kurogiri hummed in thought. "I'm quite surprised, actually. You used to make little paper servants to assist you when you cook."

My heart could have stopped beating right then and there. He remembered that too?

An awkward quietness settled into the kitchen. The sounds of my knife hitting the cutting board at a steady pace and the pot of water on the stovetop boiling sounded loud by comparison.

"Dad?" I said. The air was still awkward, but at least it wasn't as quiet anymore. "Do you have any pictures? Of me. You know, when I was little."

Even if my memories were fake, there was no way he could fake old pictures. I was sure of it.

Kurogiri hummed in thought. My throat dried as I waited for his answer. "I may have some pictures laying around in an old photo album. How about we check after dinner us made?" I nodded. The excitement made my heart race.

Cooking dinner couldn't have been any slower. Each minute tick from the clock seemed like it took days. The whole house smelled delicious, I didnt expect any less of Kurogiri's cooking. However, now was not time to have food on my mind. I needed to see those pictures.

Kurogiri handed me a bowl. The warmth of the food heated my hands. "Please give this to Tomura Shigaraki."

"And then pictures?" My heart thumpped about in my chest, almost like it was trying to jump out.

"Food first." Kurogiri spoke in a firm, orderly tone. "Pictures later."

I gave Tomura his food. He ordered me to place it on his nightstand and leave. Without questioning it, I did as he said. Kurogiri and I sat at the table, across from each other.

I shoveled a huge portion of food into mouth. "Y/n!" My eyes shot up to Kurogiri, his golden wisps flickered angrily like a candke in a breeze. "Eat slower." Reluctantly, I slowly chewed.

Kurogiri warped away our dishes. They loudly clinked together as they touched the bottom of the sink. Kurogiri got up with a huff. "Alright, let's see if we can find those photo albums."

I sat on the couch and waited. Kurogiri gave me specific directions. He was going to warp photo albums to me, and I was free to look through them.

The first leather-bound book landed on my lap. My fingers trembled as I took the cover and turned. The first picture was a little Tomura. He had a pout on his face as he held onto a thick stack of comic books. An air of familiarity sunk in, strangely. I wasn't there. Up until a week ago, I didn't even know what Tomura looked like.

I turned to the next page—another picture of a young Tomura. Oddly enough, he was wearing a t-shirt with a colorful graphic on the front. Over this past week, I've only ever seen him in all black. "How strange," I mumbled. Even in this picture, the blue-haired boy had a frown on his face.

Even though I knew I should be looking for pictures of me, I was so curious about what Tomura's smile looked like. I turned the page yet again, wondering if I'd find one of him smiling.

No, of course not. I observed the next picture. If anything, he looked even more upset in this one compared to the other two. He had a glare on his face, his small frame made him look far less intimidating than he probably thought he looked.

I returned to the task at hand, flipping through pages and pages of Tomura pictures, desperately searching for one with me in it. Hope drained from my core as I reached the last page with no results.

My head hung low. I wanted to cry, but tears weren't coming. A loud thump snagged my interest—a haphazard pile of books similar to the leather-bound book on my lap. I picked up another one.

The cover was black with gold trim. Hope mixed with excitement made my heart skip a beat. I flipped through the pages. Inside, it was filled with more and more pictures of Tomura, spanning from early childhood to early teenage years.

I stopped and took a look at a few of the later pictures. Tomura was now wearing a lot of black. Long sleeve shirts, hoodies, and jackets mainly.

I placed the book off to the side and grabbed another. My movements became mechanical. Grab a photo album, flip through it, put it sway, repeat.

Disappointment punched me over and over for each time I had to place a book off to the side. It hurt more each time I found myself with no pictures of me.

"Fake," I mumbled. I held my head in my hands. "It's all fake. My memories."

Suddenly, the little room didn't feel real. It was like I was trapped in a dreamlike state. Walking a thin line between reality and makebelieve.

Footsteps entered the room and y/n sat up straight, with her eyes on the ground. "Are you alright, y/n?"

I hesitated. Slowly, I shook my head. "Dad-" Calling him dad didn't feel right. Especially now that I didn't have a bead of proof that had actually adopted me.

"Ku-" I stopped and cleared my throat. It doesn't feel right. I've always known him as my father, fake memories or not.

Kurogiri picked up a photo album and thumbed through it. He hummed as he placed it down. "Were all these of young Tomura Shigaraki?" I nodded.

"As much as fun as it us to look at a very tiny Tomura Shigaraki, I was really hoping to find one of me," I replied.

Kurogiri crossed his arms. "I know I had a few pictures. Its been so long ago."

I felt bad, though, I wasn't exactly sure why. "Don't worry about it, dad." I tried my best to fake a smile. "We searched enough. Im sure something will come up one day."

I took one of the photo albums and held it in my arms. "Im gonna go show this one to Tomura Shigaraki."

Kurogiri told me that was a bad idea. I agreed, I knew it was. He was going to grimace and pout, if I pushed him any further he will disintegrate the album with his quirk. He can be very predictable sometimes. Though, it felt like I knew Tomura better than I knew myself.