NOVEL NEXT Chapter 1: Chapter 1: Born in Shadows
The hospital room was dimly lit, the hum of machines and the distant chatter of nurses the only sounds. The woman lay in the sterile bed, her face slick with sweat, yet her expression was radiant as she cradled the tiny, squirming bundle against her chest. Her son. Her boy. His cries had quieted now, replaced by soft whimpers as he adjusted to the unfamiliar world. She brushed her fingers through the tuft of dark hair on his head, her heart swelling despite the exhaustion weighing her limbs.
She named him Tomura Shigaraki. Not for any particular reason, but because the name felt right, strong, like the life she dreamed he would have. Her eyes brimmed with tears as she whispered promises to him. Promises of love, of protection, of doing her best even when the world felt impossibly heavy.
The next few years were a haze of sleepless nights, scraped knees, and laughter that filled their tiny apartment. Tomura grew with a curiosity that sometimes felt insatiable. His little fingers would find their way into drawers, his eyes lighting up with wonder at every discovery. Despite the worn furniture and the peeling paint on the walls, their home was filled with warmth. His mother, Maria, worked tirelessly, juggling shifts as a waitress and odd jobs to keep the lights on and food on the table. Her own dreams had long since been put aside, but she never let her son see the weight she carried.
There were moments of heartbreak, though. Like the times Tomura would ask about his father. Maria always hesitated, her smile faltering just slightly before she answered. "He…he's out there somewhere," she would say, ruffling his hair. "But you have me, don't you?" Tomura would nod, his little face solemn, but the questions never stopped.
Maria's attempts to contact Tony Stark began soon after Tomura's birth. The memories of their brief encounter haunted her, not with regret, but with a persistent what-if. She'd drafted countless letters, dialled numbers that led to voicemails, and even stood outside the gates of Stark Industries more times than she cared to admit. Each attempt ended in silence or dismissal. She knew it was foolish to think a man like Stark would acknowledge a child he didn't even know existed. But still, she tried.
The nights were the hardest. When Tomura was tucked into bed, his soft snores filling the quiet, Maria would sit by the window, staring out at the city lights. Her thoughts would drift to the life they could've had if things were different. If she had more than just scraps of memories of a charming, brilliant man who had no idea he had left something so precious behind.
Tomura, for his part, seemed blissfully unaware of their struggles. He would come home from school with pockets full of rocks and leaves, treasures he'd discovered on the way. He'd talk endlessly about the stars, the way they twinkled, and how he wanted to build something to touch them one day. Maria's heart ached with pride and sorrow. She wanted more for him. More than what she could give.
One rainy evening, as Maria folded laundry, Tomura sat cross-legged on the floor with a broken toy. His small hands worked meticulously to piece it back together, his brow furrowed in concentration. "Why do you always fix things, sweetheart?" Maria asked, her voice soft.
Tomura looked up, his dark eyes so much like his father's it made her breath catch. "Because I like to see how they work. And when they work again, it makes me happy."
Maria's lips quirked into a smile. "You're going to do great things, Tomura. I know it."
Life wasn't easy, but it was theirs. And Maria vowed, as she always did, to make sure Tomura knew he was loved, even if the rest of the world didn't seem to care. She was enough. She had to be.