You weren't even aware that he was hanging behind you as you struggled to climb up into the trash bin outside of the bar. This alleyway always stank of cigarettes, metal and spilled alcohol anyway, so you didn't really pay much attention to the smell of smoke as it wafted towards you.
"What are you doing?" A raspy voice asks, with a hint of amusement.
The voice takes you by surprise, your foot slipping on the metal container as you jolt, threatening to send you flying backwards onto the floor. Luckily your grip is strong enough to keep yourself hanging onto the edge of the dustbin.
You turn your head to look at the person who'd suddenly spoken up. You can't catch it before it leaves you but a small gasp of surprise passes your lips as you take in the strangers appearance.
He was tall, but relatively slender from the looks of it. That was okay, that was less intimidating than your moms boyfriends, who were always tall and big, whether that be muscular or a little on the larger side.
What was intimidating however was the large scarred patches that seemed to cover his face. From his bottom lip downwards was a purple, gnarled mess of scarring. He had patches of the scarring under his eyes, too. His hood was up, but you could see patches of white hair covering areas of his face. His eyes were piercing blue, almost glowing despite the dim lighting in the alleyway.
He was scary, but not in the big burling man way that every other man you'd experienced was.
The end of his cigarette burns blue as he takes a breath from it, looking over you expectantly for an answer.
You gulp a little, your knuckles whitening as you tighten your grip on the metal.
"I'm hungry." You reply simply.
You both stare at each other in silence for a couple of moments. You try to hold your ground. You'd already been chased off a couple other 'territories' by other people living on the streets, and it had been a few days since you'd managed to find something substantial to eat. Cafés around town were getting sick of taking pity on you and giving you scraps to eat, now simply calling for a hero whenever you came near, so you avoided them now.
His eyes eventually move away from your own, seeming to assess you fully with his eyes as he takes another drag from his cigarette.
"How old are you, kid?" He asks, flicking ash onto the floor as he looks at you lazily.
Your mouth clamps shut. Was that safe information to give him? He was a stranger, and you were only young. You didn't want to have to flee from heroes or risk getting tricked into being taken into care.
You appraise him with your eyes now.
He definitely wasn't wearing any kind of hero costume, which was a relief. But that wouldn't stop him from calling for one and you knew it. The more you paid attention to his clothing, the more you took in the fact his clothes were pretty beaten up too. His sleeves were in tatters, and his trousers looked as though they were too small for him, his scarred ankles exposed to the cool night air.
Maybe he was homeless too?
"I'm ten." You reply honestly, your voice carrying some of your caution towards him through.
He hums a little in response, looking over you once more.
You remain still, clinging onto the outside of the metal bin still, refusing to jump onto the floor in case he was a potential danger.
"Where are your parents?"
That question never got any easier whenever you heard it. The response always seemed to catch in your throat whenever you needed to answer it, your instant reaction to remembering why you were alone always resulted in tears, as much as you hated it.
You didn't want to let the stranger see you cry, so you turn your face away with what you hope is a quiet sniffle as you try to hold the tears back, and continue trying to haul yourself up into the trash to find something decent to eat.
You hear footsteps approaching you in the puddles on the floor, and this elicits a bit more of a panicked scramble, your fingers desperately trying to claw at the wet metal for some kind of way to progress higher.
"You don't gotta eat out of the bins, kid." He tells you, dryly.
You look over at him, pausing your movements.
"W-what?"
He's close enough now that you can see one of his white eyebrows is arched. He's quiet for a second as he looks at you before he slings his hands into his pockets, hunching over a little.
"How long you been alone for?" He asks.
That was another hard question to answer. You weren't really sure, seeing as you didn't have any way to know what day you'd left home, and what day it was now.
You know for certain that at least three nights had passed since you had a proper meal, courtesy of a kind restaurant owner that had taken pity on you when you'd been caught out by him dumpster diving for food.
"A week?" You reply, uncertainly.
He looks you over again, before motioning for you to come back down.
You cling tighter onto the metal container, distrustful.
"C'mon. I'll take you to a food bank." He says, with a small sigh, as though it's a hassle for him.
"Food... bank?" You ask slowly.
He motions for you to come down again, only a little more irritably.
"Gotta be quick if you wanna eat. C'mon."
You look between him and the short distance between you and the trash inside the dumpster a couple times, trying to gauge what the best course of action is for you.
Him shrugging and beginning to turn is enough for you to throw caution to the wind and let go of your grip on the trash container, landing with a small thump of your feet against the wet floor.
The sound draws his attention again, his glowing azure eyes looking over his shoulder down at you. You slowly pad to his side, looking up at him with a look that you really hoped said: 'please don't let me down.'
He motions with his head for you to follow him, so you do, keeping as close to his side as you can without touching him.
"'S your name, kid?" He asks in a lazy drawl as you walk together.
"Y/N." You reply, almost having to jog to keep up with him. "What's yours?"
"Dabi." He says instantly. "Listen up kid. Got some rules for ya."
"Rules?" You ask, looking up at him, but he continues walking on with his eyes focused in front of him.
"First rule. Don't give out your real name." He says, his eyes sliding to meet yours. "Especially seeing as you're a kid. Names hold a lot of power, got it?"
You blink up at him, confused.
He wasn't like the other people you'd met so far on the streets, you could tell he wasn't drunk because he was walking straight, with purpose, and you kinda got the feeling the slight lisp he spoke with was due to the scarring around his face, the staples that lined along his scars looked tight, as though if he were to yell or open his mouth too wide they may buckle.
But you didn't 'get it'. Not at all.
One of his white eyebrows raises expectantly, waiting for you to respond.
"Okay." You say, just giving him the answer you think he wants.
"Second rule," He says, stopping in front of a door, and crouching to be eye level with you. "Don't follow people just 'cause they promised you food. 'Kay?"
Fear washes over you, and it must have shown on your face because you can see him make an active effort to try and soften his stoic expression.
"Not everyone's as nice as me, kid." He says, his jaw clenching slightly beneath the ruined skin on his face. "World's a nasty place, ya hear? Can't go around trustin' everyone you meet."
You nod, completely understanding him this time around. You knew that the world was nasty, you'd experienced enough so far while being on the streets that not everyone was as kind as Dabi seemed to be.
"Attagirl." He says, his hand moving to ruffle your hair gently before he stands.
He opens the door, motioning with his head for you to go in first, and you're quick to obey, walking under his arm as he holds the door open.
The smell of food hits you immediately, and you look around at the room, looking at all the tables and the people sat at them. It wasn't too busy, only a few people per table. You recognised a few of them from confrontations you'd had on the street, them glaring at you even now. You freeze, not wanting to be yelled at again.
Dabi gives you a gentle nudge from behind, pushing you towards the opening where the workers were waiting, regarding you with surprised expressions.
You expected more questions, more concern, but the workers, after a few hushed words off to the side with your new friend, just went about their duty, offering you soft empathetic smiles, and calling you nice names like 'love' and 'sweetie'. Something you'd never experienced before.
By the time you'd actually sat down with your soup, water and bread, you were potentially the happiest you'd been since having to leave home.
Dabi slides into the seat next to you, immediately sipping his water instead of delving into the soup like you did, his eyes rested on the men opposite.
You've practically cleared the bowl in no time flat before he looks over at you, his eyes widening slightly.
"Slow down kid, or you'll make yourself sick."
You blush a little, pausing to realize he hadn't even started his yet. You try making a conscious effort to slow down, feeling a little highlighted after he'd said that.
You feel his eyes on you even though you avoid directly looking back at him as you slowly scrape the remainders of your soup up.
"Been a while, huh?" He asks, sipping his bottle of water again.
You nod a little solemnly.
"Three days."
He sits quietly, regarding you yet again.
"Where are ya sleepin', kid?" He asks quietly, leaning closer to you.
You look nervously over at the men who had confronted you previously for sleeping in their spot, a little relieved to see they had finally stopped staring at you.
"Wherever isn't taken." You reply just as quietly, looking down at the empty bowl in front of you.
There's a short silence, despite the fact it felt like it dragged on, as you feel the weight of his gaze on you.
"Alright. Rule three. No sleepin' alone." He says casually, and you see him move in your peripherals, beginning to eat his soup finally.
You scrunch your nose a little. He hadn't tried touching you beyond ruffling your hair earlier, sure. But what was to say he wouldn't try once you were alone?
After all, the nicest one of moms boyfriends had touched you while you were asleep once and you hadn't liked it one bit, but she wasn't there to protect you from Dabi if it happened again.
"Yaknow, when I was younger my ma used to tell me my face'd get stuck if I pulled faces like that." He says, and you can hear the grin in his voice.
You know he's trying to be friendly, trying to ease you into feeling comfortable with him, but you just glance up at him silently.
He seems to wait for some kind of verbal response from you, only to sigh slightly and stop eating his soup again.
"Look, you don't gotta share a space with me. That's not what I want either. Just don't feel right leavin' a kid like you alone on the streets, 'kay?" He pauses for a second before adding. "I know a place you can sleep. You just gotta stay where I can see you. That's all."
You search his face, trying to read him as a person. You'd learned to do that relatively early on, after the third boyfriend mom had that you remembered. You started taking notes of warning signs, there was usually a telltale look, a flash in the eyes or a sign in the way they smiled.
He holds your eye contact with confidence, nothing but sincerity within his cold irises.
"Where?" You ask, deciding if he mentions going to a 'buddies' place, you'd rather risk being alone for another night.
"There's a shelter nearby. It's only mats and a shi-thin pillow, but it's better than fightin' over boxes and shop fronts."
"And I don't have to sleep next to you?"
He rolls his eyes. "No, princess, you don't gotta sleep next to me. As long as I can see ya, you can go wherever your heart desires. You'll have your own mat and pillow."
Surprisingly, his little jab at you doesn't bother you in the slightest. You almost welcomed the sarcasm, it was what you were used to after all, it felt more natural than the kindness he'd shown so far.
"I don't have any money..." You mumble.
The sentence causes you more discomfort than you'd realized it would. You'd heard your mom utter those same words time and time again. Sometimes it ended up in her being beaten, and you always had to tend to the wounds left behind as she cried, sometimes it led to you being ushered out of the house, being told to come back when it was later, and sometimes, it led to good things.
He just stares blankly at you before shaking his head slightly and returning back to his soup, which was likely stone cold by now.
"It's free. That's the whole point." He informs you without looking at you.
"Oh." You reply, your voice barely above a whisper.
Neither of you speak as he finishes his bowl and you drink your water slowly. You hadn't had a decent amount of water in quite some time too, now you really think about it. You'd been surviving off water from public bathrooms, having to cup it in your hands and drink it that way. It wasn't very effective. You decide to try and keep the bottle if it can fit in your rucksack, it'd be handy to have, instead of having to rely on the public bathrooms opening times whenever you needed a drink.
He seemed perfectly happy in your shared silence, finishing his food and leaning back in his seat, overlooking the room as if he owned the place. You were kind of getting the feeling that he couldn't necessarily help the stoic impression that seemed to constantly sit across his features.
"Um, why are you helping me?" You ask, blurting the question out quickly, breaking the silence awkwardly.
He looks over at you with those ice blue eyes that only seemed to shine brighter in contrast to the dark purple scarring underneath them.
He seems to think over his answer more carefully than he had before talking previously.
"You're a kid. On the streets." He says at first, before thinking about it some more and leaning even further back in his chair and crossing his arms behind his head. "Ya remind me of someone, too."
You think over his answer a little.
"But no-one else has helped me before..."
He scoffs, an irritated look crossing his face.
"Most people are assholes." He spits. "Only out for themselves."
You fall silent. He was mad. Mad is bad.
You'd suffered enough lost tempers from moms boyfriends to know an angry man is a scary man.
He seems to catch on to the fact his anger had unsettled you, his features falling back to a bored and unbothered expression.
"Sorry, kid." He sighs. "Didn't mean to scare ya."
You regard him warily, leaning away from him slightly without even realising. An unrecognisable emotion passes his face and he leans close to you again, his gnarled arms leaning on the table.
"Alright. Rule one for me. No losing my temper around you. Yeah? Sound fair?"
His eyes are hard and sincere again as he holds eye contact with you. You nod a silent agreement and he gives you a small smirk before leaning back again.
"Alright, grab your stuff. It's gettin' late." He says, giving the room one last once over before loudly scooting back in his seat and standing.
"Can I take this?" You ask, picking up the empty water bottle.
He gives you a little shrug, seeming a bit confused by your question. You nod, leaning over to open your backpack and cram the bottle in.
He stands waiting for you with his hands lazily pushed into his pants pockets.
"Ready to go, kid?" He asks in a drawl as you stand.
You nod, throwing the small bag of a few of your belongings from home over your shoulders again.
*•*
Dabi had been pretty quiet on the walk from the food bank to the shelter, and whenever you looked over at him, his eyes were tracing over your surroundings carefully, as if he was looking for any kind of a threat that may appear.
It was good. It made you feel safe.
And it had been a long time since you'd felt safe.
You didn't want to speak and end up accidentally annoying him like you had so many times in the past with other men, so you just jogged alongside him.
At some point he realised you were having to practically run to keep up with his pace and he slowed it down gradually, to the point you hadn't even noticed yourself that you'd stopped jogging beside him at some point until he stopped suddenly, looking at a building opposite before turning his attention back to you, dropping to a crouch again.
"Alright, kid. When we get in there, I'm probably gonna have to lie a little, alright?" He says, a serious look on his face. "Now, lyin's bad, and you know that right?"
You nod, holding onto the loose straps on your backpack as you look back at him, his face a little obscured from the dark, even the searing blue of his eyes being dulled by the night sky.
"Good. So I don't want you to make a habit of it, 'kay? But I'm gonna need you to play along with whatever I'm sayin', you got that?"
You falter, picking anxiously at one of the straps with your thumbnail, looking down at it in your hand instead of meeting Dabi's gaze.
"I'm not a very good liar..." You admit quietly.
Dabi stares at you for a good moment, before sighing and using a finger to gently tip your chin back up so you were forced to look at him.
His touch is warm, gentle.
Something you weren't used to.
"You know how many stray ten year olds I run into on the streets, kid? None." He says, his raspy voice almost trying to sound patient. "You never answered my question earlier. Where are your parents?"
The question pierces through you once more, the tears that come from it instant. You sniff, not wanting to cry in front of the stranger, and try swallowing hard, but there's a lump in your throat that won't allow you to, and you almost worry for a second that your own body's going to kill you.
His unbothered expression doesn't change, and his finger doesn't remove itself from underneath your chin. He just stares at you, his eyes scanning over your face in the darkness.
"I'm guessin' theres a reason why you're out here alone, and haven't told a hero or some cop somewhere that you're alone. Right?" He asks, his voice still low and even.
You nod, your lip wobbling as you try desperately not to allow the tears in your eyes to fall.
"Alright. So, if you don't want them to get involved, ya gotta trust me, and try your hardest to back me up. Even if you pretend to be a mute."
"A- a mute?" You ask, looking at him through blurry eyes.
"Someone that can't talk." He explains calmly. "What I'm sayin' is, all you gotta do is nod and agree if you don't wanna say a lie. 'Kay?"
You could probably manage that.
"Okay..." You agree, rubbing your eyes.
Dabi removes his touch from your chin, slowly raising himself to his full height again.
"It'll be alright. Just stick with me, alright?"
You nod, rubbing your eyes once more to get rid of any more lingering tears. Dabi had a point. There was a reason you hadn't told a hero or cop that you needed help, and you didn't want anything to seem suspicious. Dabi seemed to really want to help, and you didn't want him to get in trouble if you looked upset. Especially when it wasn't him that had upset you.
He stays standing, looking down at you for a little while as you collect yourself, angrily sniffing and rubbing at your eyes.
When the sniffling dies off, you give him a slight nod, signalling you're ready to go again. He looks down at you for a second longer, almost looking like he wants to say something, but he doesn't, instead motioning for you to follow him across the street.
"Alright kid." He says with a small sigh, looking down at you. "I gotta smoke. I'm gonna stand over there where I can see ya, alright?"
He points to a lamppost at the end of the street.
You look a little puzzled towards where he's pointing to before looking back up at him.
"Why?"
"Because this shi-stuff is no good for little lungs. Alright?" He huffs, placing a cigarette between his lips and raising his eyebrows expectantly at you before walking off, lighting his cigarette with a small blue flame that manifests from his finger.
You scrunch your face up a bit. Your mom used to smoke around you all the time. She'd never made an effort to hide it from you, or create distance between you both as she smoked.
She also never used to stop herself from cursing in front of you, either. You weren't allowed to use the words, but she was, and she never held back from using them either.
You weren't enjoying feeling like a child. You'd never been treated like such a baby before.
Dabi leans against the lamppost he'd pointed towards, scrolling through his phone as he smokes.
You begin to hug yourself, the cold of the night catching up with you. You hadn't felt cold up until now, which was a surprise considering how cold you'd been every night prior.
Once he lifts his head and spots you shivering outside of the shelter, he flicks the cigarette into the road, slipping his phone into his pocket and joining you again.
"Ya cold?" He asks, slipping off his outer jacket without any input from you and placing it over your shoulders. "Better?"
You wrap the material around yourself tighter. It's a little on the thinner side, but it's better than nothing. You nod, giving a small 'thank you.'
You were beginning to feel tired, which you hate. You walk underneath his arm again as he opens the door to the shelter, which feels no warmer than it is outside, yawning a little.
You almost jolt out of your skin when Dabi's hand wraps around your shoulder, giving it a little squeeze.
"Dabi." A staff member says tiredly, giving you a pointed look.
"Her mom got booked. She's with me 'til someone can pay bail." Dabi shrugs, answering the silent question.
The woman looks you up and down, her eyebrow slowly raising.
"She doesn't look like you." She observes.
"Lucky her." Dabi deadpans as you move closer to him, shrinking a little under the weight of the woman's gaze. She looks intimidating, and you know if she suspects anything, it's game over for you, and you'll end up being dragged to the place you're trying to avoid. Dabi would probably get in trouble too.
She stares at you for a couple more moments before seeming to decide she didn't care enough to ask any more questions, shrugging and picking her book back up.
"You know the drill." She says simply, not even bothering to look at you both.
"Can I take two mats for the kid?" He asks, his hand moving itself from your shoulder to the top of your head.
She shoots him a sharp look, and he raises his hands in mock surrender.
He gently leads you away from her, grabbing a couple mats from a pile, as well as two pillows, which you gently take from him, wanting to be polite and help him a little today, too.
When you get to the communal area, there are several people dotted around, already asleep on their mats. It's quiet apart from the snores and the creaking of the door as it closes behind you both.
Originally, the offer Dabi made for you to sleep wherever you wanted as long as he could see you seemed great, but now you were actually here, and could see the sheer amount of men you'd be sharing a room with, it seemed like a terrible idea.
He quietly sets the mats on the floor as he crouches to talk to you again.
"Where do you wanna sleep?" He asks, his hoarse voice struggling to carry as he attempts to whisper to you.
You look around again, willing yourself to be brave, to allow yourself some space from Dabi, who seemed to be so eager to take you under his wing. But when you spot someone that looks far too familiar to your mom's ex-boyfriend you look straight back at him, your heart racing in your chest.
"Next to you." You whisper back, your eyes desperate, pleading.
His eyes widen, clearly not having expected you to actually choose to spend the night near him after being given the option not to.
The shock is short lived though before his eyes half lid again and he gives a curt nod, standing up again and taking the mats to the empty corner of the room furthest from the door, laying them down carefully with a decent distance between them both.
"You take this one." He whispers, patting his hand on the mat closest to the wall a couple times.
You don't argue with him, sliding his jacket off your shoulders and laying it carefully on the mat before shrugging your rucksack off your shoulders and gently placing it on the ground, trying to unzip it as quietly and as slowly as possible to not anger anyone else in the room.
Dabi sits himself on the mat beside you, crossing his legs and sitting with his back against the wall.
"Kid, these guys are used to sleeping rough. You don't have to be so precious." He says after a while of watching you unzip your bag painfully slowly.
You shake your head, refusing to disturb anyone.
It takes a while, but you do manage to open your bag, removing the bottle you'd taken from the food bank to pull out one of the very few things you'd brought from home.
Your old teddy. A bear with a star on it's chest. It was battered, torn and stained, but you loved it. You'd always loved it, ever since you were a baby, and couldn't sleep without it.
You knew it was probably something to be embarrassed about at your age, but you were beyond caring. You needed the comfort.
Dabi doesn't say a word as you pull the bear out, he doesn't say a word as you begin to lie down onto the mat. There's no snickering, no snarky comment, no attempt to remove it from you.
You feel his eyes on you, somehow managing to feel the intensity of his stare even with your back turned and your eyes closed.
You bring Teddy close to your chest, rubbing the star on his chest with your thumb in the same patch as always, the fur practically having disappeared from that particular spot.
This always works in lulling you off to sleep, your breathing slows and your thumb slows down.
The last thing you're fully concious off before you fall asleep is the weight of some kind of blanket being draped over you carefully.