It's just a job.
That's what they all keep telling themselves, knowing it's a lie built on comfort and nothing else.
It's life or death.
For Y/N and Bakugou, the longer they take to catch the person responsible for all the murders going around, t...
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LATER THAT NIGHT
My arms hurt. The cuts hurt. My head hurts. My heart hurts. Every time I thought of Bakugou I could feel the blade slicing my arm again. The mere thought of him could get me punished. The bandages Dabi wrapped around the cuts after the incident were scratchy and too tight. They were also soaked with blood.
I shook my head and began mouthing my reassurances. My name is (L/N)(Y/N), I am 26 years old. I work as a detective. I was kidnapped by the killer I was trying to catch. I cannot trust him or anything he says.
The last part is what kept me going. He was lying to me, right? But now I could remember watching Bakugou run. I remember the terror coursing through me as I tried to flee into the station. I remember watching the stars as I passed out. Could he be telling the truth about that?
I felt the pain of my cuts and I realized that yes, he must be telling the truth. I remember repeating over and over Bakugou ran. He's a coward.
He is a coward. I see it now. He hides his fear under all of his aggression.
I couldn't help but feel betrayed. I remembered the day in the phone booth. How gentle he was and how genuine everything seemed. That was real, right? Were the emotions I remember being present really there? What if I just made the whole thing up?
The sound of footsteps coming down the stairs made my heart accelerate. Dabi hasn't been down here since... I tried not to think about it.
Cold pizza and a cup of water was presented to me. I felt my hands being released and I immediately went for the water. I expected him to go and sit where he normally does, but instead he crouched next to me and began taking something out of his pocket.
I tried to flinch away but he caught my wrist. I wanted to ask what he was doing but the words caught in my throat.
"Calm down, would you?" He sounded irritated. "No need to make this difficult."
A smell hit me. I felt my stomach churn when I realized it was the smell of gasoline. Dabi pulled my arm so it extended straight. He untied the bandages quickly and they fell to the ground. I couldn't bring myself to look at the damage. He then begab dabbing something on my cuts. It stung and I had to fight to not move.
"What did you do?" I asked quietly. Part of me hoped he didn't hear the question but his eyes found mine and I knew it was too late.
