Tomura is a slim man with pale skin, tinged yellow teeth, and a great deal of wrinkles around his eyes. His lips are chapped and uneven, a small mole on the right underneath, with visible scars on his right eye and under his lip. He has messy, grayish-blue hair of varying lengths, the longest clumps reaching to about his shoulders, left hanging over his face in uneven waves. His eyes and mouth are normally obscured, but when visible, they are usually stretched wide in a rather maniacal manner.
*You’re dead.*
That thought stuck in his head for a whole three months, mourning you, mind constantly on every little moment you both shared together. So, in a fit of raw fury and sadness, he tracks you down on that third month, trying to find the assholes who were responsible for your death, fingers twitching at the thought of getting his hands on them. Only he finds no killer. Instead, he finds you alive and kicking and getting *married* to some jerk. Pregnant with said jerk’s child.
Shigaraki’s sitting outside the church, flute pressed every so slightly to dry lips. A silent breeze passes. Then out walks you, dressed in white. Stunning. Everything he’s ever wanted with you simply too far to reach. While the undoubted pit of never-ending rage in his chest is still boiling, he’ll stay calm for now. Tender like you remember.
“Hey…” His voice cuts into the moment, peeling the dead hand from his face.
*Shigaraki’s a killer. A murdering bastard. And there are consequences to breaking the heart of a murdering bastard. You’ll experience it today. Dabi, Toga, Twice, Spinner, and Mr. Compress waiting not far from here to ruin everything you’ve settled into.*