Murders in Tokyo |Bakugou x Reader x Dabi||

42||ABOMINATION

{READER'S POV}
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
IMAGE
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

LATER THAT DAY

I sat huddled in the corner of the shower. The weight of nothing sat on my shoulders. Every now and then a crushing ounce of guilt would seep through the cracks, it was moments like those that I missed feeling numb.

I knew how dangerous a feeling like this could be. Fear was no longer a deciding factor in my behavior and I was becoming reckless. Look where reckless got me before, no where good. Dabi acts on his impulse, if I push him too far into anger I'll pay for it. I need to remember that.

I don't know what to make of him. Trust is not something I would list when speaking of our relationship. However, he has helped me see the truth regarding recent events and I can't ignore that. What if he isn't as bad of a person as I assumed?

"My name is (l/n) (y/n), I am 25 years old. I was a detective on the Dabi case. I worked with Bakugou..." I trailed off. Part of my mantra before was that I could trust Bakugou, despite what Dabi said. Now I'm not sure. Can I trust my own judgement even though I was nearly knocked out?

Suddenly all I saw was red, red hair, red blood. It was all laid out in front of me. The quiet cries of pain, the small mutters of forgiveness.

I glanced around the bathroom, looking for anything useful. Sitting around feels like hell, but doing something proactive feels like selling my soul. I shut my eyes and sighed.

A knock at the door made my jump.

"Taking your time, sweetheart?"

"Fuck off."

"Just making sure you haven't slit your wrists."

The appeal of the suggestion grounded me. I need to focus on my next course of action. What is he trying to get from me? What would I be trying to get from myself if I were in his shoes?

I wasn't sure, I used to be good at putting myself into someone else's mindset. Lately, however, all I could focus on was myself. My immediate environment and possible threats weighed on my mind so heavily there was room for nothing else. And now there's the guilt. I can't move past it.

All I know is that he wants me on his side. Is that so bad, though? Is he better or worse than Bakugou?

I looked up and allowed the water to hit my face and glide down my cheeks like tears.

I looked down at my body, I've been underfed and my shape is showing my malnourishment. I placed my head in my hands right as another knock sounded.

"Look, I know you don't pay the water bill but I do, so how about you speed it up?"

I wanted to yell that it was his fault I needed to wash off the blood. But I didn't. I was worried about what his reaction could be. If I can't rely on his stability, I need to rely on mine.

"Give me a fucking minute."

He muttered something from behind the door but I ignored it.

I sighed, allowing myself exactly five seconds of vulnerability before shutting off the water. I meant to use this privacy as an opportunity to sort out my thoughts, but I didn't. My brain is so scattered I wasn't sure where to begin, or if I even could. I knew he had been influencing my thoughts, but I could no longer decide in what ways. My ability to decipher real from false or recognize manipulation had greatly decreased since I got here.