+ Will

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In the end, you knew nothing about him.

Memories sit like a rock in your stomach. It felt so obvious now- plain as day. Half your screen lit up with your chat log- days worth of conversations laid bare, the words making your chest ache. How could you be so stupid? He'd warned you about it. That he was a stranger. Just some guy you'd hang out with, play games with- the center of your little innocent, stupid daydreams. That's all it was supposed to be.

The other half of your screen is covered with a still image, a photo grabbed from a news cast pasted onto a tips wanted hotline. Every cell in your body has gone cold as ice, frozen as the image. In the chat window, tiny text appears below the log: dust2dust is typing...

It was true. You knew nothing about him after all.

You didn't reply to him, fully aware you'd left him on read.

You've never done that before. Always, always you'd reply as soon as you saw his message, all too eager to talk with him, spend time with him. But then, he'd never been quite so forward. It was always about gaming, about hanging out- to be so transparent about it now...

dust2dust: are u free tonite

Your stomach churns, sickness rising in your throat- tears gathering at the corners of your eyes. They bubble over, blur your vision and wipe away the image of a man standing on a rooftop, his hair whipping around his face. Maybe you could believe it was someone else, the strange mask he wore obscured Tomura's recognizable skin and scars, the image too far out of focus to tell his eye color, even the darkness had left his hair more gray-colored than anything. But beneath the long black shirt sleeves, bandages peaked out, uneven. His right hand, his left wrist.

The tip hotline poster sealed it all together. Shigaraki. The man in connection to the Hosu City incident and the attack on U.A. prior and, oh. The bandages. Shigaraki had been shot, hadn't he? That's what the article you'd dug up before said.

A villain. He's a villain! You've been hanging out with him- he could've killed you!

You curl up on your bed, tug your blanket tight around your shoulders. Your phone is solid under your fingers- the number pad staring back at you. You could get him caught. You could stop him from hurting anyone else.... It would be so easy! All you had to do was dial the number, to just... push the buttons. That's all.

You squeeze your phone in your hand- and your thumb is stiff, aching- just push the button, just tap the screen- that's all it would take. Why is it so hard? You could prevent the next attack, could make the world a little safer, to be a hero-

So why can't you do it?

Ding! You flinch, close your eyes- will yourself to look away from the screen. You don't need to see the chatbox flashing, don't need to see the new message sitting on the screen-- but with the client open, he'll get the read notification just the same. You just... walked away from the computer is all. It's just that innocent, that easy- to pretend you aren't aching to talk to him. That it's an honest mistake and not your desperate attempt to keep your head together.

The notification rolls in on your phone- a banner dropping down over the screen: New message from dust2dust.

Finally, your thumb moves. A single tap- and the mobile app opens up, your chat log spreading out.

dust2dust: u there

All you want in the entire world is to say yes, to ask what game he had planned tonight. To lose yourself in whatever colorful world was his interest tonight- maybe he'd want to visit your Animal Crossing island again. But that is wrong... isn't it?

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