Touya's sleep was disrupted.
Little Y/N kicked about in her sleep a lot, and usually there was enough of a distance between them both for it not to affect him too much.
Unfortunately, he'd fallen asleep clinging to her like she was some kind of childhood toy, so her kicks were now making direct impact with his already aching body.
Every time her little foot connected with his shin, or directly jabbed into the staples that lined his legs, he'd jolt awake with a pained grunt and consider letting go of her.
Every time he'd decided not to. He didn't want to disturb her when she was having a nightmare-less night.
She was a light sleeper, whether she knew it or not. Touya wondered if it was hypervigilance from whatever it was her mom had put her through, learning to stir and wake from any change in the room, or any small noises.
Plus, it was just nice, comforting, even, to have her all curled up in his arms. It took him back to the rare moments of peace in his childhood where he and his siblings would appear in each other's bedrooms and cuddle up to each other all night.
Before Sekoto Peak.
Before everything was fucked and back when his body was all in one piece still.
Touya was still riding the after effects of abusing his quirk, too. At least the waves of heat that made his skin feel like it was going to melt clean off again were over with.
But now he was just stuck with the slight nausea, his mouth being over-filled with saliva and the occasional cold sweat settling over him. He was also suffering from cramping in his entire body as well.
He tried to keep his suffering to himself, laying still and quiet, much like he was used to growing up and living on the streets. He didn't want to explain it all to little Star, who relied so heavily on him being strong and capable.
Clearly he does a terrible job when a particular random sharp cramp appears in his upper arm, right in the lining of staples across his bicep. The sudden pain makes him hiss in surprise and hurt, and little Star stirs in his arms.
"Dabi?" She asks sleepily.
"Sorry, kid." He tries to whisper, gently pulling away from her, sliding his arms back from around her.
"Where're you goin'?" She asks, sounding a little muffled, as though something was in her mouth. It was probably her thumb, he'd caught her doing that a couple times.
"Jus' givin' you a little space, doll. Go back to sleep." He replies, petting her hair softly before giving in to his own selfishness, and pressing a little kiss to her slightly damp forehead.
The slight sheen of sweat across her little forehead makes him almost feel a little guilty for holding her so close when he knew he ran hot when he was asleep and unable to control his body heat.
She hadn't even opened her eyes while talking, telling Touya that she was at least half asleep, and unable to whine about the forehead kiss.
She was just too pure, and if he was being honest, whenever he gave her any kind of physical affection, it made something deep, deep inside his heart feel a little lighter.
"You're not leaving me?" She asks quietly.
She did this a lot, and it made a sharp pain stab at his chest every time she did.
Every time he moved a little while she was sleeping and stirred her awake, it'd be the same thing. Asking where he was going, and then checking he wasn't going to leave her.
And he always gave her the same answer.
"Wouldn't dream of it, little Star."
*•*
In the morning, he'd managed to sneak out of the room without waking Star. She always managed to sleep heavier in the mornings than during the night, something he'd noticed and made a mental note of.
He was desperate for a shower. Poor Star would probably need one too once she was awake, thanks to him clinging onto her for most of the night.
He could feel how grimy he was from the heatstroke attack he'd suffered through all night, and he just wanted to feel human again.
Before he can even get close enough to the communal bathroom to pretend he hadn't heard it, he hears that ever-so-familiar raspy voice from behind him.
"Dabi."
Touya groans outwardly, hanging his head back before turning to face Shigaraki, putting on the expression of nonchalance he'd mastered since joining the League.
"What?" He asks, making sure to eye him up and down.
They weren't too different height-wise, Shigaraki only an inch or so shorter than Touya, but looked smaller due to their difference in stances.
Touya liked to stand tall, to feign confidence, and Shigaraki was hunched, like some kind of goblin creature half the time.
As time had gone on, Touya had grown a sort of reluctant affinity with Shigaraki, ending up having late night drinks with him when the pain was too strong to sleep through, and when Shigaraki was scheming, or just trying to sit silently downstairs, to enjoy his own space that everyone else had robbed from him since joining.
He didn't want to let his guard down just yet, though. He'd trusted people he'd known longer and ended up being wrong about them, and with a moniker like 'The Symbol of Fear', Touya wasn't about to be slighted again.
He'd been through enough already.
"Your kid." Shigaraki rasps, his non-existent eyebrows knitting together under his messy mop of pastel hair.
"What about her?" Touya asks, his voice a mixture of snappy and defensive, and genuinely curious. She had been keeping her head down as far as he was aware.
Shigaraki glares blankly at him, as if the answer to his question should be obvious.
Touya stares straight back at him.
They did this a lot, it was a practiced routine by now. They'd stare each other down until one of them finally broke, and spoke aloud.
And it was typically always Shigaraki.
"She's ignorant. Fix it." Shigaraki finally says flippantly, waving his hand as if to silently dismiss him.
"She's ten." Touya reminds him through gritted teeth.
Shigaraki shrugs. "I knew better at that age."
Touya holds his tongue, because he has to.
"Fine." He grunts instead, shoulder barging the smaller man, knocking him slightly.
There's an annoyed hiss, but no retaliation as Touya heads into the bathroom.
Before he can close the door, and shut the skinny little nerd out, a splayed hand with only four fingers making contact with the wood stops him from being able to do so, and Touya's cold blue eyes bore into Shigaraki's hardened red ones.
Shigaraki smirks up at him.
"Think of it as a helpful little tip." He sneers. "A tutorial for when she finds out about you."
Touya's jaw tightens.
He doesn't mean anything by it, Touya knows he doesn't. It's just a stupid game he was playing to show who has the more control in this situation.
A battle of egos as always. Touya knew this routine well.
Touya dips his head in the way he knew would get Shigaraki flustered, because the first and only time he had leant his face so close to his, a pale blush had dusted Shigaraki's scarred cheeks.
Just like last time, Shigaraki jolts back a little bit, his usually narrowed red eyes widening as Touya leaves a small gap between their faces.
Shigaraki wasn't used to people getting up in his business, or being willing to, so it seemed to shock him into silence.
"Said I'd handle it, boss." Touya sneers right back, hardening his stare as he looks straight into Shigaraki's eyes fearlessly.
He holds the direct stare for a second before pushing Shigaraki right against his still-healing shoulder, earning himself a sharp glare, Shigaraki's hand reaching to where Touya had shoved, and that's the last thing Touya sees before closing the door in his boss' face.
He stares at the wood seperating them both for a second, half expecting him to decay the damn thing, but luckily it stays solid.
*•*
The second Touya exits the bathroom, still lazily rubbing his hair with a black towel he'd asked Toga to 'borrow' for him, Star's bolting to him.
Kid must have some kind of tracker on him, with the way she always seemed to know where to find him.
"Dabi!" She says, far too excitably for nine in the morning.
"Cuddle bug." He greets with a smirk, his skin feeling a little too tight for him still.
This has exactly the intended effect he wanted, her enthusiasm dying down just a little bit, replaced by a little embarrassment, her feet halting her to a stop as she glares a little at him.
"You made me!" She accuses, pouting a little as he closes the distance between them with slow steps, still mussing his hair with the towel.
He chuckles, ruffling her hair playfully.
"Whatcha got there?" He asks, looking at something she's holding tight in her hands.
"Giran taught me to paint." She replies shyly, and Touya crouches, trying to hide the slight discomfort it causes thanks to overusing his quirk the night before. "I made you something."
His foul mood from being in pain, sick and uncomfortably warm all night lightens a little at her shy admission.
"Ya did?" He asks softly, wrapping the towel around his neck.
She bobs her head up and down, reaching out her hands to reveal what she'd made him.
A little canvas, with some, admittedly messy, painted flowers on it. Despite the paint being thicker in some places and thinner in others, it was still good for a kid her age, and the way her eyes were glittering told him that she was particularly proud of this one.
"Real nice, Star." He says, looking up at her with a half-grin. "You're gonna be bringin' in the big bucks one day."
"They're blue! Like your eyes!" She points out, her little finger drawing his attention back to the painted flowers.
He looks down at the painting again, and sure enough, she wasn't wrong. She'd managed to get a really similar blue to his eyes.
What little Star didn't need to know was that Touya, in fact, hated his eyes. He hated who they came from, and he hated how empty and soulless they appeared to be all the time.
"Huh." He says, making a show of looking over the painting once more. "So they are! You're one smart kid."
Her face lights up, like it so often does whenever she goes to show him whatever shiny new thing she'd created, only for him to compliment it, meaning every word he says in praise of her.
That look alone is enough for Touya to keep on powering through on the bad pain days.
He wanted to give her everything he'd never had. Even it out a bit. Save someone from the same fate he had written on the wall for himself.
So he'd encourage her to partake in activities she herself wanted to do, and not what he, or anyone else expected of her. He'd give her all the praise and recognition she deserved, unlike what he recieved during his childhood. He'd keep her safe, and try his hardest to never scare her.
He would not be his father.