The moment her eyes settled on him, something clicked.
This blue-haired boy reminded her of someone.
Someone she hated.
And more importantly, he carried the same surname.
Shimura.
That single word made her expression turn colder.
A possibility surfaced in her mind.
Sharp.
Unpleasant.
Could this boy be related to him?
Worse…
could he be his son?
The atmosphere around her seemed to cool instantly.
"You said your name is Shimura Tenko?"
Her tone remained calm, but there was something hard hidden underneath it.
"What is Shimura Kotaro to you?"
The name landed heavily between them.
For the first time since entering the Toga residence, Shigaraki looked genuinely surprised.
Shimura Kotaro.
He had not expected to hear that name here.
And judging from her expression, this was not casual acquaintance.
There was resentment in it.
Something personal.
For a brief moment, a thought crossed his mind.
If he answered honestly, would it affect his relationship with Himiko?
Would this woman cut them apart just because of that name?
But after a short silence, Shigaraki made his decision.
There was no point hiding it.
With the Toga family's influence, uncovering his background would not be difficult. Trying to conceal it would only make things worse later.
Besides…
if she really intended to separate Himiko from him over something as meaningless as blood, then he would simply take Himiko away from this place.
That was all.
He had no intention of leaving her trapped in a house like this forever.
And beyond that, there was another reason.
No matter how terrible Shimura Kotaro had been, he was still the father of this body.
If Shigaraki had inherited this life, then acknowledging that connection was not something he intended to avoid.
Lately, he had even begun to feel that his arrival in this world might not have been simple possession.
Maybe it was closer to rebirth.
Maybe he had always been Shimura Tenko, and his memories had merely been sealed until now.
If that was true…
then Nana Shimura and the others were not just names from a story.
They were family.
With that thought in mind, Shigaraki answered calmly,
"He's my father."
After a short pause, he added,
"Though he's already dead."
His tone remained steady and indifferent, as though he were talking about a stranger rather than a parent.
The woman was visibly caught off guard.
The man she had once hated was dead?
And judging by the boy's reaction, the relationship between father and son had clearly not been close.
There was no grief in his voice.
No attachment.
Nothing.
For the briefest moment, she actually felt a trace of satisfaction.
A quiet, vindictive sort of relief.
And because of that, the way she looked at Shigaraki softened slightly.
Only slightly.
Because none of it changed the real problem.
No matter what, this boy still carried that man's blood.
And anything connected to Shimura Kotaro was something she despised.
In her eyes, no man named Shimura could ever be trusted.
Her expression quickly turned cold again.
"It's admirable that you want to help your classmate," she said evenly. "But Himiko already has private tutors. She has no need for unnecessary arrangements like this."
Her gaze sharpened.
"So you may leave now."
The dismissal was direct.
Clear.
Final.
Beside him, Himiko's smile did not falter even slightly.
It remained sweet and perfect.
But the hand hanging at her side slowly tightened.
Her fingers curled inward, trembling faintly.
A tiny act of resistance hidden beneath flawless manners.
After a moment, she lowered her eyes briefly before speaking.
"Mother, I—"
"Enough."
The interruption came immediately.
Cold and absolute.
"You've always been… different."
There was no warmth in her mother's voice.
Only judgment.
"You only managed to correct that behavior in recent years."
Her eyes shifted toward Shigaraki.
"And now you want to associate with people like this?"
"What if you're influenced again?"
There was no room for discussion.
No hesitation.
No softness.
Today, no matter what, she would not allow this boy to stay.
In fact, she had already decided something else as well.
She would cut off all contact between the two of them.
Completely.
Permanently.
Himiko pressed her lips together.
For a brief moment, something flickered deep inside her eyes.
Bitterness.
Resentment.
And a quiet sadness she had long grown used to carrying.
But none of it reached the surface.
Because she already knew.
She had always known.
This woman had never changed.
Not once.
Even when she was little, when she still couldn't suppress the urges caused by her Quirk, when she bit into things she loved simply because she wanted to taste blood…
what she received was never concern.
No one asked why.
No one tried to understand.
Instead, she was met with disgust.
Cold and undisguised.
"What is wrong with you?"
"Why can't you behave like a normal person?"
So she tried.
Desperately.
She learned how to smile properly.
How to speak properly.
How to act properly.
How to bury everything that made her different.
She built a flawless mask and wore it every single day.
At school.
At home.
Everywhere.
Eventually, she became popular.
Admired.
The perfect rich young lady everyone expected her to be.
Exactly what her parents wanted.
And yet…
nothing changed.
Not her mother.
Not her father.
The way they looked at her stayed exactly the same.
Cold.
Distant.
As though her existence itself were something unpleasant they merely tolerated.
Because from the very beginning, she had never truly been their daughter.
Only a symbol.
A decoration.
Something displayed to avoid gossip from relatives and business partners.
And in that carefully maintained world, there was no place for anything abnormal.
Or anyone…
like him.
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