Y/N's POV:
You didn't know how long it had been, nor did you know if the things you'd felt had been real, or nightmares brought on by the haze that shrouded your mind.
It must have taken hours to claw your way back to consciousness. When feeling returned to your body, the first thing you noticed wasn't the sharpness of each piercing breath or the burn that hid behind the fading numbness of your arm. It was the warmth coming from beside you, the featherlight touch of a hand resting over your hip.
You didn't give yourself time to think about the situation. Your brain only registered that you'd been drugged and had woken up in an unfamiliar bed with another person lying beside you. Dread coursed through your veins, turning your stomach over. It was on instinct that you pushed yourself to your feet and grabbed the nearest object that could be used defensively. In this case, it was a small, bedside lamp.
Your grip was weak, and your vision momentarily darkened from the sudden movement, but you didn't let yourself waver. You'd been in a situation like this before. Granted, it had been a training exercise. You'd been given a drink laced with a drug that predators often used on unknowing girls at parties, and then had been told to fight off your attacker while attempting to resist the effects of the drug. It had taken four tries, but you'd been successful. Whatever substance Zankoku used in his quirk was much stronger, though. And you were in much worse condition than you'd been at the time of that specific training.
"Do you think we could try and talk before you start throwing things at me, Princess?"
The voice wasn't the one you'd been expecting, which eased some of the fear. You blinked a few times, willing the spots to dissipate. When your sight became clear, and you saw who had been beside you in the bed, you released the breath you'd been holding. Dabi stood, taking the lamp from your hand and placing it back on the chipped paint of the bedside table.
"Where are we?" You asked, your voice sounding hoarse. Looking around, you quickly realized that the room would not have been used by a higher-up. The wooden floor was stained, and the small bed had bedding that didn't match the color of the pillowcases.
"An acquaintance of mine lives here," Dabi answered. "He helped heal some of your injuries."
Your thoughts traveled back to the near-blinding pain that you'd awoken to. Dabi had been there, and a strange old man too. You didn't remember what they'd said, only the hellish feeling of poison-dipped thorns being pulled from beneath your skin. You'd believed it to be a nightmare.
Dabi studied you, and if you didn't know better, you would've said there was genuine concern in his look. "We didn't think you'd be awake for another few hours. Lay back down and I'll go and get Doctor Reiki."
Twice, now, that you remembered, Dabi had seen you in a state of complete vulnerability. It was shameful. You'd spent the first part of your time with him working tirelessly to convince him that you weren't some helpless girl that needed to be watched constantly. When you'd grown comfortable, you'd let him see a few of your more jagged edges, but that trust had been misplaced. It had been a game to him. And you wouldn't make the mistake of letting him play you like that again. However, him finding you in the situations that he did made your efforts feel pretty counterproductive. "I'm fine. Where's the bathroom?"
"I don't think you should be moving around right now." He reached out as if to guide you back, but you stepped away.
"I have to pee, dude. I'm pretty sure that the guy would rather have that happen in the bathroom than on the bed."
He studied you for a moment, looking unsure, but eventually spoke. "Fine." Dabi sighed and pointed to the doorway. "It's the first door to the left."
Without saying anything else, you shakily made your way out of the room. You followed the directions, finding yourself in a small bathroom with beige-colored walls. The shower had no curtain, likely because, from the look of it, it hadn't been used in years. The toilet worked fine, fortunately, along with the sink.
There was a mirror hanging on the door, and after washing your hands, you dared a glance at yourself. The dress you'd worn to the party had been replaced with a grey t-shirt that hung below your hips and a pair of men's boxers that you prayed were unused.
Your skin was lined with cuts, and bruises peppered the space between them. You quickly looked away from the ones on your thighs, where Zankokus fingers had pressed. Your bottom lip was split and swollen. You didn't look at your arm. If it looked anything like it felt, you'd end up passing out again.
The person you saw in the mirror felt like an entirely different entity. It didn't look like you, didn't feel like you. It looked like someone weak. Someone who had to rely on another person's protection because of their lack of power.
You couldn't look anymore. You needed to go home and deal with everything. Pushing down the lump that had formed in your throat, you twisted the door handle and stepped back into the hallway. Noises were coming from the opposite direction of the bedroom, and you followed them into what looked like the kitchen. In the center of the room, was a round dining table where Dabi stood next to an older man. The doctor, you assumed, was relatively tall, just a few inches shorter than Dabi, whose eyes had landed on you the moment you entered his line of sight. He had a head of dark grey hair that was thinning in the center. His white robe resembled the ones often found in hotel rooms, and he held a mug of hot liquid in his hands.
"Well, I'm glad to see that you aren't dead, dear." The man held up the mug as if to toast to the fact.
You half-shrugged. "Yeah, me too."
"I tried to keep her from walking around," Dabi said, almost sounding like he was asking for the doctor's help. "She doesn't listen."
"You've always been too bossy, boy. If she wants to walk around and potentially hurt herself, more, let her."
You couldn't tell if the doctor was being sarcastic or not, but you chose to disregard it. Looking at Dabi, you said, "Did you get the file?"
"I did."
Good. At least the events of the night hadn't been for nothing. "And were you successful on your end of things?" A slow nod, meaning now you both had the information you needed to continue your hunt for Izanagi. You looked over to the doctor. "I appreciate your help, sir." Then to Dabi, "Let's go."
"Woah, Woah, Woah," the old man set his mug on the table. "I understand your eagerness to leave, but you are not completely healed. The wound in your arm still contains a poisonous substance, and it will continue to spread if you do not let me remove it. I took a sample from you last night and was able to pinpoint the exact type of poison that it is, and I can safely rid you of it."
That was the reason for the pain you'd been experiencing since the attack. You'd figured that was the case. The doctors from your time in the hospital had told you there was a risk that the poison would spread. You'd dismissed their follow-up calls and eventually, they'd given up on having you come in for treatment.
The man continued. "It will likely be a horribly painful procedure, but it should take no less than five minutes."
At least he was honest. You gave a small smile. "I appreciate your willingness to help, but I'll be alright."
Dabi crossed his arms. "You're kidding, right?"
"No. Take me home." You left out the politeness from your tone when talking to him.
"Dear, if you don't have this removed it will kill you," the doctor interjected. "Leaving it untreated will give you another two or three years at best. I won't make you do it, but I encourage you to think about it."
"Ok, I'll think about it then." You weren't going to explain yourself to them. There wasn't a point. Two or three years would be plenty of time. "Take me home," you said to Dabi once again.
He looked between you and the man beside him in disbelief. "I'm not taking you anywhere until that poison is out of your body."
"Great, I guess that I'd better start walking then." Never mind that you had no idea where you were or what direction your apartment was in. You were also pretty certain that you wouldn't make it far before collapsing. Standing up for as long as you had was already taking a toll.
But, you weren't going to sacrifice your pride and show them any of that. You began making your way out of the kitchen and toward the area that looked like the entryway of the house. Before you could get close, Dabi placed a hand on your shoulder, clearly taking the effort not to disturb any of your injuries. "Don't be stupid."
"Listen, I appreciate you coming and helping me, but this isn't something that concerns you. He said I have a couple of years, so it doesn't impact any of your plans." Seeing him trying to take care of you like this only made you feel worse. You knew he was only doing it because he was worried about losing you before the weapon could be found.
Or, was that true? You remembered something hazy, something you thought he'd said that had completely disputed the way he'd acted toward you recently. The scene wasn't forming clearly in your mind, and it was hard to tell whether it was a dream or reality.
"My plans are different than they were before," Dabi responded.
You went to say something else, but at that moment, the door was thrown open and someone stepped through, announcing themselves in a rather dramatic way with a sweeping gesture of their hands. "Good morning everyone!"
The person in question was a man, maybe in his late twenties. He had loose, brown hair that hung over his forehead with similarly colored eyes. He wore a red jacket with black jeans, and a necklace hung low on his chest, the charm hidden by the fabric of his clothing. You shrugged Dabi's hand off of you as the man came closer.
"Oh, I'm so glad that you survived. With the amount of blood coming out of you, I honestly wasn't sure." He held out a hand. "Let's see, you can call me Mahou. I'm the guy that hangs out in the abandoned building across from your apartment whenever that guy has errands to run." Mahou pointed to Dabi, and you looked to see his face riddled with annoyance.
Looking back, you slowly shook the newcomer's hand. Today hadn't been the day you'd expected to meet your backup bodyguard, but nothing ever seemed to go as you expected anymore. "I told you not to show up for another few hours," Dabi said through gritted teeth.
You stepped in front of the villain and into Mahou's gaze. Hey, he was more attractive than you'd expected. "Nice to meet you. Do you have a car?" You didn't bother asking about how he knew you'd almost died last night. You knew Dabi wouldn't have trusted Hawks to take you somewhere, and you also knew he didn't have a car. So, this guy had probably been the one to take you here.
"I do. You ready to go?"
Dabi stepped in front of you. "She isn't going anywhere until she's completely healed."
"You don't get to decide that for me. Again, it doesn't affect you. Two to three years is plenty of time for you to complete your job." You weren't sure how much Mahou knew about your relationship with Dabi, but you acted on the assumption that he believed it to be just a simple bodyguard job, as it had originally been meant to be.
"She's right," the doctor stepped into the room. "I'm sorry, but I'm not willing to do this procedure without her consent. Give her the time to think about it. I doubt I'll be going anywhere anytime soon."
His words made you realize something. Selfishly, the thought hadn't crossed your mind until now, but it was dangerous for you to interact with anyone. The doctor could be at risk now. "Those people could come after him," you said to Dabi. They haven't hesitated to hurt anyone that I talk to."
Dabi cursed as if he hadn't thought about that when bringing you here, but the old man just laughed. "I'm a doctor for villains. Trust me, I have taken plenty of precautions in the case of an attack. This house is just a shell. I'm perfectly safe down below."
Down below? You wondered what he meant by that. Dabi was staring, looking conflicted by the idea of leaving him. Looking between the two people, it was clear they had a history of sorts. Just by Dabi's expression, you could guess that he cared for the old man, at least a little. Now you felt bad. Should you invite the guy to stay at your place, or arrange a safer location for him to stay in?
"You're sure?" Dabi asked.
"They're dangerous, sir," you stated. "We could-"
"Nope. Go," he waved his hand and looked at Dabi. "Call me when that girl stops being stubborn."
That girl, as if you weren't right there. But whatever, It would be a while before you lost any of that stubbornness, but you didn't say that. Instead, you followed Mahou as he made his way to the white sedan that was parked out front. "You can take shotgun. Dabi can sit in the back."
You smiled, "I think I like you."
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The car ride back to your apartment was long, and by looking out the window, you were confident that you wouldn't have gone anywhere near where you needed to go if you'd walked.
Dabi stewed in the backseat for the majority of the way and explained to you how Hawks was covering for you at the commission. You felt bad that Dabi would be the one to take the blame for everything, but he didn't seem too bothered by the fact. "One more crime isn't gonna change much. Can't get higher than the most wanted villain, right?"
"This is different," you reasoned. "We're talking about one of the heads of the hero commission and not just the one in our country. The heads are in charge of the commissions around the world. They'll be working extra hard to arrest you now."
"Don't worry about me, Princess." He tilted his head back against the seat. "I've dealt with worse. And trust me, even if they manage to find me, I won't let them get close to you."
"I wasn't worried about myself," you mumbled.
After you'd changed goodbye's with Mahou, promising to have him over for dinner one night, Dabi shot him a glare that could have melted through the glass windows of the car.
Walking into your apartment, you were struck by the fact that you were gonna have to walk up the six flights of stairs to get to your apartment. It had been over a month and regardless of the number of complaints that had been sent in, no one had fixed the elevator yet.
You braced yourself as you approached the foot of the stairway. You'd braved these stairs while drunk, high, injured, all of it. This was nothing. You steeled your resolve, but, before taking the first step, Dabi appeared at your side and placed your uninjured arm around his shoulder, causing you to lean most of your weight into him.
"I can do it by myself," you tried to pull away, but he held tight.
"Can you forget your pride for two minutes and let me take care of you? You almost died, Princess. You've got at least one broken rib and there were over fifty shards of glass we had to remove from your back. I don't need you falling down the stairs and making things worse just because you refuse to rely on other people."
God, he was confusing. If he didn't care about you, as he'd claimed, there was no reason for him to be doing this. There was no reason for him to try and persuade you into healing your arm. There definitely wasn't a reason for him to have been sleeping in bed with you.
But regardless, you allowed him to help you up the stairs, saying that it was only because you didn't want to argue about it. In reality, you were extremely grateful, because by the time you got to your door, the room was spinning and it was even more difficult to breathe than before.
Dabi pulled out his key and unlocked the apartment, then took you directly to the couch to sit you down. "I know you're determined not to take care of yourself, but you need to rest. Think about it this way, you won't be much use in a fight if you're like this."
"Fine," you agreed.
"That's also why you should get that procedure done. The poison will make you weak."
And now he was bringing that up again. You let out a huff of amusement. "It's been in there for about a month and I've done pretty well."
He didn't seem to find it funny. "A month," Dabi mumbled. "You've had a poison-infected wound for a fucking month, and you didn't say anything."
"Because it doesn't matter."
"It does matter, Princess. I don't know why you feel the need to be so stubborn, but you can stop with your prideful bullshit for this one thing. You heard Doctor Reiki, if you don't get that shit out of your body you will die. Do you understand that?"
His anger only made yours rise to the surface, along with a good amount of confusion because why the hell did he care so much? "It isn't about my pride. And yeah, in two to three years I'll probably die. The weapon will be gone long before that. Therefore, it doesn't affect you."
"Honestly, I wish that was true." Dabi let out a long breath, shutting his eyes momentarily. "This would all be so much fucking easier if that was true."
"What does that mean?"
He didn't answer your question. "We both agreed to be partners in this. Something like that shouldn't be kept a secret."
Secret. Funny word coming from him. Your memories of last night were hazy, but you remembered one thing clearly. You hadn't known how to bring it up, hadn't fully processed it yet, but there was no way in hell you were gonna let him paint you as the secretive one.
You stood up, wincing. The action caused Dabi to step closer, but the look on your face must have stopped him. "Oh. Is that so?" You looked him directly in the eyes. "Are you sure that you want to bring up secrets, Touya?"
His body went rigid and his eyes widened. You could see as he attempted to recover, but you knew you'd hit the mark. His reaction confirmed everything that you'd suspected.
Touya, the name had come to you while you were lost in the realm of unconsciousness. The little boy who had been your closest childhood friend, the one who'd vanished without a trace. He'd comforted you, been the only one to believe you when the rest of the class had called you a liar. You realized now why he'd been so trusting. He'd known what it was like to have a father in such a high place.
"I was wondering if you were ever going to figure it out," he chuckled, pulling himself together after the shock had worn off.
"Why didn't you say something? When I was telling you about my father, you knew all along, and you knew that I was talking about you when I brought up the boy in my class. Why did you stay quiet?"
"Because I hated you, at the time." His voice went sharp.
"Why?! Why are you so hell-bent on hating me?!"
"Because I was jealous," he admitted. "I grew up thinking that you got the good end of the deal. You had a father who was a top hero, but from the way you talked about him, god, it sounded incredible. He was your hero, in more ways than one. My dad's a hero and a pathetic excuse for a human, why was it fair that you got to live the life that I wanted?" You stared, watching as he turned away. "I created this image of you in my head, and then you told me everything and I realized that I'd been wrong. I didn't know how to deal with that. And I knew that if I told you, you would try and get close to me again, try and form some sort of connection and I didn't want that. I wanted to keep seeing you as a reckless party girl who used her daddy's status to get a job at the commission." He dragged a hand over his face. "And I tried, believe me, I tried. I don't know what it is, Princess, but you fucked with my head. I wanted to hate you so badly, but I couldn't, not in the slightest, not when I got to know you. When I realized that, I fought hard to push those feelings away. I did everything in my power to push you away."
You knew what he was saying, but you weren't comprehending it. Could he seriously mean that the way he'd been treating you these past couple of weeks was because he was afraid that he didn't hate you anymore? If that were the case, he was a selfish bastard. You let him continue, but tints of red splattered across your vision.
"I thought I was doing well. I knew that I'd at least managed to convince you, but I knew I was done for whenever I felt bad about that. Guilt isn't something I deal with often, but after I said that shit to you? I almost felt sick with it." He laughed a bit maniacally. "I've stolen, lied, killed, and never felt guilty over any of it, but for some reason, seeing those tears in your eyes and knowing that I'd caused them, that was what made me feel bad. I thought I could live with it, but then last night happened, and all I could think about was the fact that you were gonna die while thinking that I'd meant everything that I said." Dabi smiled, but it wasn't of happiness. The expression was disbelieving, as though he was surprised by his own words.
You didn't know what he wanted you to say to that. Honestly, you hadn't expected him to give you any explanation at all. It probably would have been better if he hadn't because now you were spiraling. "So, you're telling me that for weeks, you ignored me, degraded me, and treated me like shit, all because you didn't know how to deal with your fucking feelings?"
He finally turned back to face you. "I didn't mean any of it."
"But I didn't know that!" You didn't realize just how badly you'd felt because of how he'd treated you until now. "It doesn't matter whether you meant it or not! Do you think that changes the fact that you treated me exactly how the rest of the world treats me?! You were afraid of your feelings for me, but did you ever stop and think that maybe I was starting to feel the same way? I hated you at first, but you proved me wrong and that made me happy! I didn't turn around and violate you! How would you feel if I'd treated you the way you treated me?! You took the things I'd told you and you used them to hurt me, you knew exactly how they would make me feel. And for what? Because you realized that you were starting to see me as an actual person instead of the image you created in your head?! Do you realize how fucking selfish that is?!"
"You know what, maybe you're right." Dabi's eyes narrowed. "But is it selfish to think about how detrimental it would be for you in the end? For us to be anything more than partners. After we find this weapon and destroy it, do you think that we'd just be able to continue like this? Do you think that you can keep your life with the heroes while I keep mine with the villains? No. We're on opposite sides here, Princess. Once we no longer have a common goal, we're back to being enemies. Pushing you away was the one time I wasn't being completely selfish. In fact, telling you all of this is what I'd say is selfish because I am openly admitting that I would rather risk putting you in danger just to be close to you for what little time we have left together."
This was all too much, your thoughts felt like they were traveling at blinding speeds. Your heart, naive as always, was exploding with joy at his confession, but there was a part of it that was still hurt by what he'd put you through. "You think I don't know the danger?! I've known it from the start, but did I treat you like you were a piece of garbage on the sidewalk? No! Because for the time being, we're a team. Whatever happens afterward, happens, there's nothing we can do. But for now, be a fucking man and deal with your shit. And don't think for a second that you can just decide that you want to be close to me and decide to stop acting like a dick and automatically earn my trust again. You said you were trying to push me away? Well, you did a hell of a good job of it."
"What do you want me to say?! I'm sorry?! I am, ok. I'm incredibly fucking sorry but there's nothing I can do to change that now." He almost sounded pleading.
"Maybe not, but you can try. I don't know what you want, exactly, but if you're serious about not wanting to push me away, prove it." You shut your eyes against the oncoming headache. "Did you manage to get my phone out of the commission?"
"Wha-" He looked startled by the sudden change in subject. "Hawks should have dropped it off, along with your purse, but-"
"I'm gonna make some phone calls and then you and I will sit down and go through the information that we both got. I can't do this right now."
You looked ahead and saw the items on the kitchen counter. With how hard your device had been thrown, you weren't sure that it would work anymore, but your mom was probably freaking out. The commission had likely sent word out about the so-called villain attack. You also needed to get in touch with Aya, let her know you were ok, same with Hawks. You walked and got your phone from the counter, Dabi didn't move.
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Dabi's POV:
That had not been what he expected. Not in the slightest. Apparently, hearing his true name come from your lips the night before hadn't been a hallucination, but he hadn't been prepared for that fact. He'd said too much. Once he'd started talking it had been like the words wouldn't stop, and of course, he'd only succeeded in making you angry.
'Prove yourself,' you'd said. How was he supposed to do that? He'd apologized, was there something else he should've done? Apologies had always worked on the other girls he'd spent time with. When he was too rough in bed or would accidentally burn them somehow, an apology always had them forgetting about the whole thing within seconds, even if it hadn't been sincere.
He stood completely and utterly still, like a fucking lost puppy waiting for someone to come back for him. How had it come to this? He'd gone so far from who he thought himself to be. All because of you.
He shouldn't have accepted this job, it was going the exact opposite of how he'd planned. And now he was stuck thinking of ways to prove that what he'd told you was true. He was actively thinking about what he could do to get your trust back and was willing to put in any amount of effort for it. If that didn't show how royally fucked up his brain was now, he didn't know what would.
Before he could get completely lost in his thoughts, his phone buzzed from within his back pocket. The number was unknown, but he had an idea of who it could be. He answered, and his suspicions were confirmed once Doctor Reiki's voice came from the other line. "Dabi?"
He'd given the old man his number before leaving, just in case. "Yeah, it's me." There was a pause, and Dabi furrowed his brows. "Is something wrong?"
"No, we just..." he trailed off, mumbling unintelligibly to himself.
"Just what?"
The mumbling stopped, and the doctor spoke in an unfamiliar tone. "We need to talk about those test results you asked me for."
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