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6 months ago

Spinaraki Week 4 Day 7: All

Who Tells Your Story and How Does It End?

It’s the day of Spinner’s final book signing, just one more day of meeting and greeting the people who were touched by his work, and then he’ll have served his sentence and be considered a free man (with all his royalties to boot). But before he can start the next chapter of his life, he’ll have to reflect on what he gained and lost with his final fan.

Another fan walking up, another round of awkward yet meaningful back-and-forth about how much the book and its story means to the both of them, another autograph with a personalized note, and another “farewell and good luck”.

This had been Shuichi Iguchi’s Sisyphean routine for the past couple years. Ever since his account of the villains who he called friends was miraculously allowed to be published for the masses to read, his life had become a seemingly endless parade of book tours, seminars, speeches, and charity events all in the name of making sure no one got left behind or fell through the cracks like the League of Villains had. It was tough work for him, he didn’t think he could ever truly feel comfortable under a spotlight or on a podium, but it was worth it.

It was worth it to see just how many people whose hearts he had touched with his story, from people who were shaken out of their apathy after seeing what the villains went through to make them who they were, to people who had gone through similar circumstances themselves and got the courage to take action after reading his book. Some people were inspired to go into politics and law to fix the system, others were motivated to simply change their behavior to be more empathetic and reach out to those who looked like they needed help.

It was funny, Shuichi thought, that he out of everyone had inherited Tomura’s dream, that he had been the one who finally spun that dream into reality, and did so by putting his own spin on it. It was funny, in a bittersweet sort of way.

Today was going to bring a break in that routine though. Today was the final day of his sentence. True, he got off a bit easier compared to what he feared would happen, but three years of time in a mental health facility followed by five years of book related “community service” under the watchful eye of the rehabilitation program created in the wake of the war was still quite a lot to go through. And after this final book signing event was over, he could take his book royalties and walk out into the world without any further consequence. He could consider himself a free man.

The fans came, they were greeted, they laughed, they cried, they commiserated, they praised, they got their books signed, they left. Over and over until finally there was only one guest left.

The guest had shoulder length black hair that was half up in a bun even messier than Himiko’s had been, and Shuichi could tell it was dyed by the lighter roots. He was wearing a decent enough suit and a heavy coat on over that, with a flu mask covering his mouth. Still, the outfit did nothing to hide the vibes of anxiety this guy was exuding in spades.

“Hi, nice to meet you,” Shuichi greeted him, “Who should I make this autograph out to?”

“Hmm, oh no name don’t put a name I’m… not sure what my name is,” the guest physically winced at his own unconvincing excuse.

“Ok, I’ll address it to ‘schmoopy’. That’s your name now.”

Schmoopy looked bewildered but also a bit amused, so Shuichi gave himself an internal pat on the back for getting the guest to chill.

“I have questions.”

Shuichi looked up from the book he was signing, “What kind of questions?”

“Several.”

“…Ok, shoot.”

“The parts with Tomura Shigaraki read like a love story. Was that intentional?”

Shuichi was glad he was already finished with signing the book, because he knew he would’ve accidentally destroyed the autograph if he’d been asked this in the middle of it.

“Well, not at first.”

Schmoopy’s raised eyebrow indicated he was surprised that Shuichi didn’t deny the claim, so he began to explain.

“When I first started trying to write this story, I had actually intended it to be this grand immortalization of Tomura’s philosophy on how ‘hero society needs to be demolished in order to reject it the same way it rejects those who can’t fit into the roles it needs’. So like Destro’s Manifesto Part 2: Electric Boogaloo. Of course that’s not what came out, because that was a terrible idea and I couldn’t write that if I tried. What I found much easier to write about was just the story of our journey together. How we all met, when and how we became friends, what fights we got into and who we lost along the way, how we fought back and what we gained out of it. Writing about my friends helped me process everything, let me reminisce on the time we spent together but also grieve their passing. And well, that’s how I ended up realizing what story genre my bond with Tomura would’ve matched the best.”

“A romance?” probed Schmoopy.

“Yeah,” Shuichi replied fondly before continuing, “It wasn’t until I was able to lay it all on paper that I understood what direction our relationship was heading. Our first time playing video games, how quickly we became attached to each other within the following weeks, the emptiness I felt and how Tomura’s response was to quickly empathize with me, my promise to support him, his eagerness to show me he was worth supporting, the lengths each of us went through to make the other’s dream come true,” here Shuichi’s voice wobbled before he steadied himself, “and how he dedicated his final words to me. Each individual moment was precious on its own, but altogether it became an obvious love story. I didn’t set out to write a romance, I just happened to have found one after it had already ended.”

“I’m sorry,” Schmoopy consoled.

“It’s okay,” Shuichi placated, “With how I grew up I thought I’d never be loved at all. It’s not the best outcome, but I’m glad to know that someone loved me truly, and loved me as much as I loved them in return.”

Schmoopy paused for a moment, and Shuichi wondered if he’d said too much, but the guest pressed on with another question.

“Ok, next one. Considering everything that happened, from meeting the league, befriending and falling in love with Tomura, and knowing the tragic ending of it all… would you do it again?”

“Yes. I mean hypothetically speaking, if I got thrown back in time to the moment I first met my friends and I could use what I know now to affect the outcome, then I absolutely would. I’d bond with them sooner, take more detours for side missions that didn’t add much to our progress but were fun to do anyway. I’d make more time to just hang out with Tomura and enjoy that time together, maybe figure out my feelings for him sooner. Maybe I’d even be able to convince Tomura not to get the sketchy surgery that caused everything to go downhill, to ease himself into getting more power. Who knows how society would’ve turned out if that was the route we took. But, even if I couldn’t change anything, I’d still do it all again. After all, it’s just even more time I would get to spend with the people who mattered to me the most, and with the guy who loved me best.”

Schmoopy’s mouth quivered and his eyes got watery, quite emotionally touched by that answer. “Sorry,” he apologized as he wiped his sleeve across his face, “got stuff in my eye.”

“Is it tears?”

“Oh shut up”, he snorted while continuing to vigorously rub the mess off of his face, his mask getting pushed around from how hard he was scrubbing, “I’ve got one final question.”

“Sure, take your time…” Shuichi said, then promptly became speechless as Schmoopy dropped his arm. The coat sleeve was covered in make up and the face mask had fallen off.

Schmoopy’s face was covered in golden cracks -no wait, they were healed over scars- making him look like a kintsugi masterpiece.

Schmoopy’s scars were most prominent around his eyes, but the largest two were almost identical scratches on his right eye and left lip.

Schmoopy also had a mole below the right side of his mouth and red eyes that shined with determination.

Schmoopy was Tomura Shigaraki, the love of his life.

“Final question. Now that your sentence is over and the statute of limitations of my crimes passed, would you maybe want to run away with me?”

As they sprinted hand-in-hand out of the building and blended into the crowd to start their next chapter together, Spinner giddily started planning out how he’d write the epilogue he’d have to add to his book the next time it got republished.


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