Arms tonite (Death is a nightmare no one can escape)

Grief

Tomura remained there, closed in his room, lost in a sea of sadness and despair. Memories of Dabi flooded his mind – the laughter they shared, the battles they fought side by side, and the moments of quiet intimacy that bound them together, His little stupid smile and his teasing, he smiled slightly at the memories, but his smile soon faded as he remembered that now, Dabi was gone, leaving behind only memories and a void that could never be filled. Tomura knew that he would never be the same again, that a part of him had died alongside his beloved. Tomura went to sleep crying that night, feeling the loneliness of the room crashing against him.

In the days that followed, Tomura struggled to cope with the overwhelming grief that consumed him. Every corner of his room reminded him of Dabi – the scent of his cologne lingering in the air, the sound of his laughter echoing in the silence, some of the old hoodie that he stole from Dabi wee still in his Wardrobe.

He got up from his bed, his legs were a little wobbly, but he still made it to the Wardrobe, he opened it and carefully took out one of Dabi hoodie, it was a simple black a bit ripped baggy hoodie with a skull, Tomura brought it to his nose and he had to hold back tears, it still smelled like smoke, burnt and cheap cologne, it smelled like Dabi. Tomura hold it close to himself and putted it on, before walking back to bed.

he didn't know how much time he slept, he woke hearing a gentle knocking on his door. "Tomura, I got you some food, please open" it was Kurogiri. His caretaker, he spoke so softly and with care that Tomura almost thought that he actually cared, but then he remembered that it was his job to care about him.

Tomura grunted , he didn't want to be bothered right now, he wanted to be left in his despair. He didn't heard a reply. Kurogiri walked away leaving the food in front of the door.

Tomura sat alone in his room, feeling the weight of guilt heavy on his shoulders. Dabi's lifeless body burned in his mind, the memory of him dying in his arms too vivid to ignore. He stared blankly at the closed door.

Kurogiri had placed food outside, yet Tomura couldn't bring himself to eat. Instead, he picked at the scars crisscrossing his arms, lost in thought about the events that led to this tragic end. The silence of the room seemed to suffocate him, each tick of the clock mocking him for his failure.

His red eyes darted around the space, landing on various items reminiscent of their time together - photographs, notes, and trinkets. Each item served as a painful reminder of the life they once had, now tainted by heartache and regret.

As the darkness enveloped the room, Tomura's fingers traced the familiar pattern of the hoodie's fabric, weaving in and out of the material like memories of Dabi's touch. His trembling hand found its way to his scarred neck, his nails digging deep, seeking release in pain as his mind spiraled down a path of torturous thoughts.

In the corner, a pile of clothes caught his eye. On top of them there was a photo of him and Dabi laughing, it was an hold photo that he forgot to put away. Its was there looking at him, mocking him. In that moment, Tomura clung to the illusion, imagining Dabi sitting beside him, their laughter echoing through the empty space.

With a deep breath, he forced himself up. A wave of sorrow washed over him as he approached the door, his bare feet padding across the cold floor. The scent of food hung in the air, a distant comfort that refused to reach him. Tomura hesitated, his gaze drawn back to the photographs on the wall. He walked back to bed and tugged himself inside, letting himself being embraced by the warmth of the hoodie.

As Tomura lay in bed, staring at the ceiling, the hoodie tight around him, he couldn't help but feel the crushing weight of his grief.

The darkness outside his window slowly gave way to the first light of dawn, casting long shadows across the room. The scent of food lingered nearby, a stark reminder of the passage of time, yet Tomura could not find the strength to move.

A soft knock sounded at the door, breaking the silence. It was Kurogiri once more, his voice barely audible,

"Tomura, I brought you breakfast, please open the door."

Despite the emptiness in his stomach, Tomura had grown accustomed to ignoring Kurogiri's pleas. Instead, he relied on the warmth of the stolen hoodie, clinging to the fading memory of Dabi's embrace. He was lost in a world of despair, where the void left behind by the loss of his lover threatened to consume him completely.

Tomura's thoughts drifted back to the day they met; how they bickered, fought, almost killed each other and eventually formed an unbreakable bond. The image of Dabi's laughter and teasing played on repeat in his mind, a cruel reminder of what he'd lost.

Outside, the world continued to turn, oblivious to his suffering. Time passed with or without Tomura.