Abuse Therapy (Shigadabi Edition)

7

(Dabi)

I hurled into the toilet as Fuyumi patted my back.

"I'm so sorry Toya. I wish I could find a way to make him go easy on you two."

"It's...Fine. Not...Your...Fault." I reached up and flushed the toilet and stumbled to my feet. My stomach hurt, but now it was because I was hungry. Fuyumi helped me back to my room so I could lay down, much to my pleasure. Natsuo came in a few minutes later and started putting thin layers of ice over all my burns and bruises. I barely managed a thank you before I actually fell asleep. It didn't last very long before the screams started. Every scream from the people I had burned with my Quirk. I hated it, hated having to hear them echo around in my head. I tried to think of something positive. Shigaraki had come to visit me, which was nice. Shoto had managed to aim his ice just right to cover one of my burns today during training. Natsuo had made a little snow storm in my room for me. Fuyumi had been there to comfort me while I was throwing up. But I seemed a little hung up on the fact that Shigaraki had visited. I admit, I had been crushing on him for awhile. He was just so pretty and confident in his abilities. He wasn't afraid to use his Quirk to help someone. I woke up with a jolt, unhappy that I couldn't remember what I had just been thinking about. I looked over at my alarm and saw that it was one in the morning. I sighed and flopped back onto my bed, covering my eyes with my hands. Then an image struck me, almost like it was smacking my brain. My arms covered in purple skin, held on by surgical staples. I sat up, rubbing my forehead. What was that? I checked my arms, which still looked fine. So then what was that? I got up to get some water, when apparently my dad had the same idea.

"What are you doing up?"

"Getting water. What about you?"

"Same as you, it would seam." It was all going fine until I dropped that glass, which shattered around my feet. Before I could process what had happened, I was surrounded by suffocating heat, and I passed out.

...

I woke up in a hospital.

I was scared.

I hated hospitals.

I immediately tried to sit up, only to be greeted with an insane amount of pain in my arms. I lay back down and brought my arms up so I could see them, and was scared by what I saw.

Purple scars, held on with surgical staples.