Tomura Shigaraki

As soon as Tomura entered the mall, he took the route he always took—the route to the game store. The mall was vast and spacious, filled with crowds of pesky people from all walks of life; annoying little kids, screaming and running around; dumb heroes patrolling the place, somehow always missing him; and families. He had nothing to say about those. Looking up, he spotted the sign for the entertainment floor and followed the arrow pointing to his destination, hands stuffed in the pockets of his sweatpants, his black hood pulled over his face to obscure his appearance just enough to not seem worth questioning. This was his weekly routine, a set schedule to ensure he was able to transverse the public area and check on his favorite store.

When he first visited it, curious to see if they had the newest edition of Resident Evil, he was greeted with fully stocked shelves ripe for the taking; small yet compact merch-filled sections; and a considerable amount of discounts sales he could take advantage of. Tomura didn't have to intimidate someone to get a copy for his console, so he naturally began to favor this store. They always managed to scrape up the latest entries to franchises he had long admired, and at the same time, have their prices low and affordable. To make things better, this store of his was never crowded unlike the other more popular ones, and there was never any worry of being discovered. The store employees didn't care; they'd gotten used to his strange habit of going in and out, occasionally bringing a game to the counter and muttering a barely audible 'thanks' for their quick service.

Hood pulled over his scarlet eyes, a 'beep' resonating from the automatic door as he entered, Tomura stalked into the store, heading straight for the 'latest releases' aisle just in the front before slipping into the aisles behind to examine their content. His hands, pinkies exempt because games were sacred, scoured through the multiple cases, pulling some out to read and putting others away in disgust (he'd never play a dating sim!). Nothing was very different about his movements. They were the same as they had been two weeks before, the last week excluded because of the invasion he had led.

Just as he read over the back of one game case, he heard the following news segment in the background: "After the U.S.J. attack at UA that endangered students, teachers have put out a warning for the capture of those that planned the strike. Police had arrested dozens of villains involved in the incident, but they have been unable to capture the ringleaders.." The news broadcast continued, reviewing the casualties suffered by those victim to the attack and the potential risks to UA security.

Tomura blinked, his eyes locking onto the images plastered on the screen a couple meters away, right above the cashier counter. His wanted poster was somewhat pixelated, the rendering poor, but there was a clear distinction to highlight his pale blue hair and the hands decorating his body. He instinctively tightened his hoodie, grumbling at the prickling sensation of being watched when there was absolutely no one around him. There were only two or three people in the store though in different aisles.

He spared another glance at the screen, wincing as the newswoman pronounced his name perfectly: "Tomura Shigaraki, the supposed leader of the attack who threatened the safety of UA . . . and his accomplice, a black, misty man who appears to harbor a teleportation quirk.."

Scurrying back into the aisle, careful not to decay or knock anything over, he swore to himself. "Damn it," he huffed, one hand gripping the game case from earlier and the other reaching up to claw at his scarred neck. "They got my favorite store!" To another, he may have appeared to be panicking, but in all actuality, he wasn't scared of being arrested; he was terrified of losing access to his favorite game store. Kurogiri had warned him before, reminded him that if he were to go to the mall again, he would need to lie even lower—and that it would be less of a risk to stay at the bar instead of going. Peeking over the shelf, he scanned the area to form some kind of plan to get out of here (and actually purchase the game he wanted). The news continued to broadcast his new status as a 'delinquent pushing it,' and he almost crushed the case in his fingers.

The best thing to do in this situation is to stay still, he thought, his ears picking up the sound of one of the other customers leaving with a ding of the automatic sliding door. Tomura couldn't leave just yet.