come in with the rain - dabi x reader

2. wasted years, wasted youth

"I did not, Touya," Sato says firmly. "No one is hurting you or your brother anymore."

He grabs at his hair, right at the scalp, and tugs as hard as he can. Why won't it hurt? "You expect me to believe that? Why the hell else would he forgive that bastard? Huh?"

Sato's eyes are sad. It's not real, Touya thinks, words like venom. He doesn't care about you. This asshole just wants the paycheck, the bragging rights of fixing you. "Fuck you." His chest hurts.

"I am sorry if I gave you that impression."

The huff that leaves Touya's lips is nearly smoke. It would have been fire, if it weren't for this horrible fucking place containing his stupid quirk.

"Your siblings, your mother—All of us want to help you, so that you can return to society—to go home with them."

Right. "Return to society." The very same society that turned him into a monster, that locked him up and told him that it was his job to get better, to fit their mold. He's jumping with joy at the thought of returning to the world that allowed Endeavor to run unchecked, allowed him and the rest of the League—the PLF, whatever—to be royally fucked over at every turn. And "home"—Funny. A very appealing offer, he thinks. "Y'pinkie promise?" He coos. His chest hurts.

"You have my word."

It hurts. He clenches his jaw. "Right, well, I'm not forgiving that asshole anytime soon."

Sato waves his hand in the air dismissively, shocking Touya out of the tension that he'd put so much effort into creating. "I wouldn't either," he says. "Never was a big fan of him—That... doesn't matter. My point is—No one expects you to forgive him. Moving on doesn't always mean forgiving and forgetting, even if it seems like your siblings have."

The session reaches its end, and Touya stands up first, sharply inhaling with the motion. "Yeah, yeah," he mutters quickly, not liking the pit that's formed in his gut. "See ya next time, or whatever." He swipes the journal off the table and stumbles back to his cell for the rest of the evening.

┌──────── · · · · ➷

Despite his best efforts, Touya does find himself glaring at that stupid journal, sitting there on the desk across from his lumpy bed. He's laying on his side, elbow propping his head up and his legs bent to prevent him from dangling off the mattress. He hums under his breath, a song he's long-since forgotten the lyrics or title to; there's no electronics in this place, apart from the cheap televisions in the common areas, and those only play pre-approved movies that are no younger than a decade old.

For a brief, stupid little moment, he considers writing in it, just to give him something to do other than think. Then he laughs and rolls over to face the ceiling, a hand resting on his lower stomach.

Touya thinks about you. A lot. He doesn't want to. It means he's soft. So, he thinks about his family instead, no matter how badly they piss him off.

Vaguely, he remembers when they brought Natsuo home. Fuyumi had been so excited for a baby brother, but Touya had felt helpless. He'd grown to love the little squish of a baby, of course, but his heart, his hopes, his dreams—they'd all shattered at the sight of him. Touya had been the first child, the fist attempt, and the first failure. Fuyumi had been born almost immediately after him, but they waited so long to have Natsuo. He'd been young, only around four years old, but he'd known why Natsuo had been born—the same reason Touya had been.

He'd been a failure, too, if the full head of white hair was anything to go by. Rei's quirk was useless, in the eyes of Endeavor. Touya had thought, for a while, that one day he could be stronger, could reach a point where his flames did not hurt him. One day, his father would acknowledge him, if only he kept trying. But Natsuo's birth had told him all he needed to know: his body was weak, Endeavor thought he was weak, and they were both going to be discarded.