It had started off so innocuously. Down time really was such a rare blessing.
They'd been at her place, watching something on her computer – a travel program – seated together on the couch. Dabi had been leaning back into the cushions, while she'd been sprawled out to his right, long legs stretched over his lap. One hand had been threaded through with hers, while the other rested on her knee.
As the show had continued on, his blue-eyed attentions had wandered. Warm fingers had begun trailing their way up, along her left thigh, to trace at the outline of ink etched into the skin. Her stare had been observing him in quiet amusement, taking note of his distraction, and the slight smirk to his lips. It had seemed so long since the last time she'd seen such an expression on his features, during a random moment like this.
The last few weeks had been rough, for them and everybody else. After everything that had happened at Kamino Ward, Dabi had to lay low for the time being with his team. Then, once he'd been able to move again, just enough, he'd had to continue playing it cool, and keep the visits between them even more infrequent, lest anyone see his face popping up around her area. The last thing he needed was more Heroes sniffing around where they didn't belong.
The shock had been immense, after that night. Having become truly aware of just what level of offense her significant other was involved in. This wasn't just garden-variety criminal mischief. This was life-changing, potentially even world-ending. This wasn't something you could come back from unscathed.
So, she'd strengthened her resolve, and made the decision...to stay by his side.
Without a single hesitation, she'd welcomed him back in, arms wide open, sealing her answer with a silent kiss of promise. She knew just what sort of trouble this could bring – nay, it was well beyond that level by this point. 'Trouble' didn't even begin to cover it. But, after all this time, and the hoops they'd had to jump through together...her heart was in too deep. She'd known it was wrong from the beginning, and still, even with all the details fully revealed...she couldn't bring herself to let go.
Sure, she wasn't what most would consider a 'straight up Villain'. She wasn't what most would consider much of anything, if she were so blunt. She was a complete nobody. However, by virtue of harboring a labelled one willingly, she was easily deemed guilty by association. She became a somebody, in the worst way possible. Her hands were stained by transference, holding tightly to the one she loved.
Still, she'd made that choice, how long ago, to take the plunge. To give every last part of herself, to somebody who could've very well eaten her alive, and tossed her to the side. A ruthless carnivore, created through trauma, taking on everybody with a pyromaniac's arsenal.
Yet, he hadn't. He'd allowed her inside – her, over anyone else. He'd seen something in her, something that no one else had ever shown him; something that the rest in her existence had ignored. In turn, he'd let her see things of him, that no other being could claim to be privy to. Had taken her outstretched hand, but even while dragging her down, had drawn himself in closer. He'd made the choice, just as much as her...that he didn't want to be alone in this journey, this life. On this near-suicide mission.
To know of her: that there was one other, who saw him just as he was, as he desired to be, and accepted him unequivocally, without a second thought. Who lifted him up at his worst times, while pulling him in deeper, intoxicating him with her compassion and allure. Someone who could burn him just as badly as he himself could in return...and without a Quirk. In exchange, she cared and protected by her own means, offering him shelter in her battle-scarred heart.
In the end, they'd both made a decision from then on: no matter how hard it got, they'd never let the other go. If one went down, they both did. But oh, if they weren't about to fight to keep their heads above water. Things would be harder from then on, but they certainly weren't impossible.
"Hey." Her call was soft, and inviting. Looking over, he was slightly surprised to see her with her phone out. Her expression was timidly eager. "Let me take a picture of you."
His eyes widened slightly. What was this? A chuckle then, as she reached up to brush away some loose bangs from her ocean eyes. A sweet smile was upon her lips, just daring him to lean in and steal them for himself. "Well, not you, fully. I know...you're not the most comfortable doing that."
It wasn't so much because of looks that he didn't enjoy pictures; she'd have given him what-for if he'd ever called himself ugly to her face. It was more along the lines of not leaving behind any evidence, should she potentially get tapped. No matter the temptation of making memories, they couldn't be too careful.
Removing her other hand from his, she held it up, palm flat. "Show me your fire. I want to see if I can catch it in a pic."
He raised an eyebrow, tilting his head slightly. "What's up? Got something on your mind?" That was a bit less risky than a regular photo, but still.
Her smile just grew a tad wider, and she gave him a wink. "You'll see." Her reply was sultry and playful, just daring him to say yes. That little seductress. Oh, she was being such a tease here, and he was living for it. Fine, it couldn't hurt, just one shot, to see if it'd actually turn out okay. He'd let her keep this secret – for now. Though, she wasn't about to get away with the attitude scot-free.
"Alright. I don't really get it, but hey." He did as she asked, whipping up a swirl of brilliant blue flames in the center of his palm. After a couple of snaps, she settled on an image, and showed it to him for his input. Huh, phone cameras sure had come a ways, hadn't they? Giving his approval, while still uncertain as to what had triggered this inquiry to begin with, he shrugged it off. Watching and waiting, until she'd put away the device...
...he then proceeded to pounce, pinning her into the cushions, refusing to let her up for air until they were done. She hadn't known what hit her, though soon enough, she certainly wasn't complaining.
Hey, he said she wasn't getting away with it. He kept his promises.
…...
She was absolutely insistent about this.
"The 18th. I need you to be here on that day. Please?" Her eyes had been wide and imploring, hands clasped together as she'd regarded him. "If you have to be busy every other day, that's okay. I just...I need you, on that day. Somehow."
She knew it was a risk; his schedule was unpredictable, especially right now, and there was a noticeable chance of him being unable to show. All she could do, was plead her case, and at least convey to him how important it was that he be there. If anything came up afterwards...well, she'd just suck it up, and deal then. But, they could at least attempt to put something together?
His azure eyes were looking her over in slow questioning, wondering what on Earth could have gotten her so riled up, that she was making such a request. She never asked for him to be around on specific days. She knew, better than anyone else, that stability was impossible to guarantee on his end. Whatever it was that was going on, must've been big. But, when he attempted to press her for details, she clammed up.
"I can't say. It's a surprise. But, it's not dangerous! You just have to trust me, okay?" Her stare was so sanguine, so gently beseeching. He couldn't guarantee that things would work out, though at the same time...he also couldn't say, one-hundred-percent, that they wouldn't. So, for now, he would say yes, until his answer was otherwise challenged. Hopefully, she wouldn't be too crushed if, or when it happened.
"Alright. I'll make time." And he would, so long as something else didn't come up that would effectively push it aside. Gradually, the League was rebuilding after that fateful night. Responsibilities were resuming. Stuff like basic patrol, he could slough off onto someone else for a shift. But things like recruitment missions, intel gathering, or main meetings, were a no-go. If anything like that came up, then he'd be playing the bad guy, and breaking her heart.
She knew this risk going in. It'd just sting a little, hearing and seeing the letdown play out. She was the only one he cared about disappointing. It was unavoidable, sure, but it still smarted. Plus, all work and no play wasn't really the best method to ascribe to, either.
The look on her face...like the sun, breaking through behind dark clouds. She'd nearly tackled him with a hug, squealing out a "Thank you!" before suddenly jumping back, and apologizing profusely. Checking him over, to make sure she hadn't aggravated anything with her impulsive gesture. He'd brushed it off, saying he was fine.
If it had been with anyone else, depending on where they fell in his rankings, they'd have better had a good reason, that was enough to keep him from either decking or charring them where they stood. She was the single person who could get away with such actions. And even then, she rarely did them, for fear of causing discomfort in some manner.
He couldn't lie – she was always so wound up and overthinking, that when she let herself go...it was pretty fun to see. Right now, she was positively adorable in her excitement, as she'd made her way to the kitchen, to pour a 'celebration' drink of some dark green tea. Lazily, he followed after her, to snag a drink of his own.
What was waiting for him on the 18th though, should they actually make it to the date? Could he keep this promise, too?
…...
It was honestly a goddamn miracle that they'd made it through the next couple of weeks in one piece, let alone to the date in question.
Even while the League was in the process of restructuring, picking up where they'd left off, they had to be on their guard, and not out front and center. This did not sit well with Shigaraki, who was still smarting from the loss of his mentor against All-Might. He was in the middle of some weird sort of grieving process, flipping between long periods locked away in silence, to throwing fits and picking fights, when he was meant to be reorganizing and issuing orders instead.
More than once, he'd gotten just a little too close-up in Dabi's face. It had been oh so painfully tempting, to simply scorch the temperamental madman into nonexistence with his flames. However, as enticing as the idea was in the moment, with emotions running high, he knew that ultimately, it would only backfire on him in the long run, should he choose to lash out.
In order to see his future plans to fruition, he needed to stick with the group. Lone wolf though he presented as, right now was not the time to go completely solo. There was still use to be found under the notorious header and its resources. Because, while All For One might've been supplying most of the big guns, they still had some cards up their sleeves, and skills to their name. The LoV wasn't about to roll over and die. Neither was he, even if he had to put up with his boss' mood swings and itchy trigger fingers on a near daily basis.
Infuriatingly, the last couple of recruitment missions he'd been sent out on, had certainly been insistent in their attempts to nullify that last part. Both had gone abysmally, ending in conflict that had only been ended when he'd finally put his foot down, let loose, and lit up. Each group had been swiftly extinguished, though not without cost.
The physical injuries from the first, while not life-threatening, had been enough to cause his girl to pale and panic visibly – and this was after he'd cleaned up on his own time before seeing her. He could only begin to imagine how she'd have reacted if he'd shown up, looking for all the world like something the cat dragged in.
The second time, retaliatory damages had been far less, because he hadn't waited as long to determine whether or not to pull the plug on the crew of prospective candidates. However, in exchange, he'd gone a little overboard, and wound up spreading the fire to a couple of buildings across the way. Luckily, he'd been able to book it out of there quick, thanks to Kurogiri's warp portal. Though, the incident had wound up in a slot on the news. And, he'd gotten an earful too, upon his return to the new makeshift base. Great.
He'd still been healing up from the last of the injuries, when the 18th finally rolled around. He'd been called for a patrol shift a couple days prior, but had swiftly turned it down.
However.
Although he'd have loved nothing more than to rest, if he could be frank...a promise was a promise. He was a touch dead on his feet, but he'd live. For one day, he could stick it out. For her, he could.
Upon arriving at her apartment, later that afternoon, he saw that she was all dressed up. Loose, light blue, off-the-shoulder billowy blouse, with navy jeans, and boots. And here he was, still looking and feeling like a hot mess. What had she been planning?
Her expression was tenderly imploring, as she made her way over, to lace her hand through his lightly. She could tell, that he wasn't exactly on top of the world right now. Her voice was mild, though the words were clear. "Are you sure...you're up for this? I know you're here now, but..."
She swallowed thickly. This was obviously really hard for her to say, but it was apparent, that she cared about his status, even with how important whatever this was might've been. "If you really don't feel like it, I-I can - "
Dabi cut her off then, pulling her in with a yank and a kiss. He was tired, sure, but more so of the words and waiting, than anything else. His own curiosity had been piqued, by her insistence and secrecy, and like hell they'd come this far, just to throw it all away now. He could be a big boy, and deal with his issues for a bit longer.
Maybe once this was all over, they could even figure out an appropriate stress relief. Something fitting, for their down time. It just depended on what, exactly, he was being led into.
"Shut up, and let's go. You started this, so we're finishing it." Simple as that. They were on their way.
The train ride was one that was unfamiliar to both parties. They'd taken a line from the stop closest to her workplace, then got off about five places in to switch at another station. He'd noticed, that the further on along they'd traveled, the more withdrawn she'd seemed to be, fiddling with her hands and hair as she'd looked down at her lap. As if she were being sucked into herself. It was obvious that her anxiety was acting up. At least they were seated in the far back, away from prying eyes. Thankfully, traffic hadn't been too crazy today, either.
In response, he'd slipped one of his hands into her own, yet again. A universal gesture of reassurance between them. His grip was rough but warm, and although startled, she'd eagerly taken hold, giving him a nervously grateful look in reply through her bangs. She'd been chewing her lips to pieces; they were turning red and raw. Giving her hand another squeeze, he'd tugged it across, causing her to fall against his side. She'd remained that way for the rest of the ride, until their stop came up.
The area they'd gotten off in was a bit more on the flashier side. Not quite super shady, yet bringing its own troubles. His hold on her did not release once they'd disembarked. Although she was leading the way, he made sure to stay directly beside her, as it was obvious what sort of attention could still be drawn in a locale like this, for someone like her. She was far too innocent to be hanging around such territory alone. Just what were they here for, anyway?
After a few more twists and turns, they finally arrived at a curving staircase, with a neon shop for a cafe in the window. Dabi blinked. Had they really trekked all this way for coffee? No, that couldn't be right. As soon as they'd made it up the stairs and stepped inside, however, it was immediately apparent what they'd come here for.
The cafe was just an addition. This place was a tattoo parlor.
He knew his girl had ink, and where. With the kind of relationship they had, it was impossible not to. However, all her pieces had been obtained before they'd gotten together. She hadn't picked up anything new since they'd met. Not for him disapproving, either. Tattoos, from what he knew – piercings were more his speed – besides still being majorly frowned upon, could cost a pretty penny. And, they hurt. But at least, they were no longer so difficult to obtain.
He could feel it through her hand, and from the part of her that was leaning into him, whether she realized it or not. The young woman was trembling, and she was the one who'd brought them there to begin with. Where it counted, she could be some kind of daredevil, though confidence was not something she was used to working with for long periods. She'd come this far though, setting all this up, hadn't she? Like he was really going to let her turn back now.
The front desk before them was occupied by another woman with an impressive set of sleeves. Glancing down, he proceeded to elbow his partner lightly, receiving a muffled yelp in surprise. Shooting him a panicked look, she saw him gesture forwards, and understood his instructions immediately. Letting go, she made her way forwards, haltingly, to check in.
For something that had been illegal until recently – she'd gotten all hers out of the region, most likely – the place was pretty homey. Darkly hued color scheme, with hints of black and white. Up to date computer systems. The cafe in the background, with a lingering aroma of coffee beans. Tasteful portraits on the walls, possibly of famous faces in the scene, or past clients. Multiple doors and hallways – the place wasn't small. Plush couches to wait on – luckily, no one else was around – and television to watch, though right now, they were off. Music was faintly piping through instead.
Returning his attention to the main area, he watched as his girl shyly introduced herself to the receptionist. After some back and forth of exchanged words, she'd passed over a clipboard, for her to take and fill out. Turning away, she saw where he was standing, and quickly made the motion to head for his side. As she did, he started making his way towards one of the seats. She understood, and followed.
Watching her as she sat, scribbling away with a shaky grip in the various spaces and lines, Dabi mulled over the circumstances that had brought them together, to this point. When they'd first met, she hadn't been fully established here. They'd crossed paths unexpectedly, like ships in the night...except it had been morning.
She'd been hesitant, uncertain, though only in herself. As if she were so afraid to disappoint him. Him, of all people. But, in that first introduction, she'd still opened up in a way to him that nobody had ever done so before. Not those who were supposed to care for you through thick and thin. Not the Heroes who patrolled the streets. Not the other Villains who ran in similar circles to he himself. Not his comrades. Hell, not even the general populace. She'd stood out, above all others...
...and all she'd done was offer her hand.
From that point on, as time had passed, he'd watched the change in her. How her panic attacks and spells of overthinking were growing fewer and farther between, same with her self-destructive outbursts. How she did her best to be more up-front with him, as opposed to forcing everything down inside.
She'd gradually seemed to become more comfortable in her own skin – and goddamn yes she had every reason to be, she was stunning. She was braver, not just with him, but outside in her day-to-day affairs, as well. The longer they were together, the more she had seemed to bloom, again and again and again, each one better than the instance before. He couldn't get enough.
This was the person he'd chosen, the one he'd picked from the garden. It was overgrown and thorny, all just struggling to survive, fitfully entwined with everyone around them. His job was to cull it with fire. Why would he bother stopping to smell the roses; it wasn't like there was anything waiting for him here, among the weeds and irritants.
But somehow, through the tangled, gnarled mess, a tiny little bud had been hidden, sprouting from the ground. A delicate pink bloom that had held such promise, he couldn't help but stop and stare. Its appearance was so unassuming, but its scent had been entrancing. He'd come by every day, to offer it shelter and water, whatever sort of care someone like him could manage.
And then, bit by bit, day by day...that flower had thrived. Under his attention alone, it had become a still young, but impressive tree, with many years ahead of it, and so much potential in its blossoms. The petals scattered about him in the wind; so fragile to his flame, yet so resilient in how they continued to spread.
...okay, metaphors weren't really his thing. Plants were just what had popped into his mind, based off of his partner in question. The point was, she had changed, from when they'd first met until now, and it had all only been for the better.
Perhaps she too, had changed him as well, in some way...and not by force, or demand. No, because he'd wanted to; because it came naturally, being with her as he was. She had shown him parts of himself, that didn't need to be feared, while at the same time taking the ones that already existed, and loving them irrefutably. He'd never have thought of himself as somebody capable of such trappings – what good would they serve him? In the case of her, however...
Feelings, wants, needs, desires. He had them, and they weren't letting him go anytime soon. Neither was he to her. He had demons, that needed to be fed. They weren't leaving, because she was the only one suited to the task.
And she, in turn, had her own demons, just looking for their shelter from the storm. A protector, that would allow them to simply exist, before gradually healing completely, here and now. Just one drop of love from him, could do so much, and vice versa.
Upon finishing the paperwork, she was given a digital tablet to sign off on, as well as to take a picture of her ID. They were sent to sit down for a little while longer, until the artist was ready to call them in. Dabi noted, that her shakes were lessening more and more, as they continued to move forwards in the process. She wasn't backing down. Good. He'd have had something to say if her fears had tried to overtake her here.
Eventually, a figure had come out from the side, beyond the frosted hallway divider. A man, maybe a few years older than both of them, covered with various ink pieces. As he'd introduced himself, it was apparent that his girl had already been discussing things beforehand, because all the details seemed to be in place. It was just a matter of finalizing, and then the work could begin. She already had her design picked out and everything.
Making their way to the back, to where the stations were located, it was another round of waiting, as their artist finished setting up his gear. Dabi had been taking in the new scenery with a cool eye, wondering vaguely as to each's function. He wasn't really paying attention as the young woman continued to talk with the artist, giving her approval for the stencil he'd whipped up, and then proceeded to place upon her body.
It wasn't until she'd called out for him, that he'd snapped back to the moment. Her shirt was being held up, exposing her middle, while her pants were lowered on the left just slightly. He blinked. The new piece was going somewhere around there, it seemed. "Umm...this is gonna hurt a little...and take a little time. I-If it's okay with you...can I hold your hand again?"
There was another chair set up beside the table on the other side, near where her head would be, and he was already striding over to sit down, no questions asked. It wasn't his business where she chose to place it. And he wasn't going to fault her for needing a little extra reassurance here, either. She still had the guts to get it done. That was more than enough. The artist paid him no mind as he got ready to begin – looks like his unusual appearance really didn't mean much in a scene like this. Even in a world of Quirks, he'd gotten a few stares.
Her hand slipped into his, just as the needle started to buzz. Up closer, whatever it was, was being done on her lower left side, just about at her hip. "Alright, here we go."
The intensity to her grasp varied; there were a few breaks for the artist during the whole process of outlining, shading, and finally coloring. Three steps, two points of switching. She refused to stop fully for anything though, wouldn't even sit up to stretch. It was clear that this one was doing a number on her, but she pressed ahead. Dabi had to wonder, just what on Earth could she have wanted to get done so badly? Interest raised before the piece was finished, he turned his attention to the in-progress design.
His breath hitched in his throat.
It was a flame. His flame, to be exact. He recognized it immediately: it was a recreation of the picture she'd taken, how many weeks earlier. Shades of turquoise in a small bundle, swirling together at her side. Her left, of which her dominant hand resided. His, too.
This girl...had gone through all this trouble, all this secrecy, this planning, this pain...for him. She had willingly made the choice, to be forever marked, with a symbol that was irrevocably entwined with himself and his person. Yet again, she was becoming closer to him, in a way that spoke true for her.
She was an artist in her own right, though quite the battered one. Her body was a canvas, and oh, but the stories it told! Part of the reason she got the ink she did, was because of her creative spirit, while the other...was to simply have something better to look at.
For every line and bump and spot and slash that told a tale, she wanted color and linework, custom-chosen and created images, to share another. She no longer wanted her body to tell a tragedy – though it most definitely wasn't one, by any means. And even if some days were harder than others – even if the scars hadn't stopped appearing completely, they were definitely no longer in charge. If this was what she wanted, then who was he to stand in her way? There was more than one method to speak up and out.
After three hours, it was done. With the machinery shut off, she finally allowed herself to sit up – as well as let go of Dabi's hand. He hadn't complained during the whole affair, even when the look on her face matched far too well with the amount of pressure in her grip. She hadn't been digging into anything, at least. Even while stressed, she was courteous. Though, even then, he wouldn't have pushed her away. She went through a lot here tonight, and it was all on his behalf.
Standing in front of the long mirror, she took in the finished piece with no words, but a introspective, somewhat glassy gaze. Was she about to cry, at long last, from the pain? Or...
"It's amazing." The thoughtfulness to her features was replaced by a wide smile, breaking in jubilation and relief. She blinked a few times, attempting to hide the waterworks. Of course, he noticed them. It was impossible for her to put up a front before him. He wouldn't say anything this time, though. Let her have this moment. It was obvious that this meant something to her.
After paying up, both for the work involved plus a decent tip – she must've been saving up for a while before this – they were on their way. Since she'd had other work done in the past, there was no need to stress over aftercare instructions. She knew what to do. As they walked out, she leaned into him again, this time more out of exhaustion as opposed to nerves.
Looking upwards at him, she bore a tired but rosy smile on her face. It was too cute, and usually, he wasn't a big fan of that word, or using it. But in her case, it was fine. She was cute. Too damn cute for her own good. Having set up all of this, like a big surprise party. "So...? What'd you think?"
Dabi halted in his steps, and she'd almost tripped over her own feet to stay beside him. Wrapping his arms around her, making sure to avoid her new ink, he leaned down, to whisper into her ear. His voice was mischievous and husky.
"Y'know...if you really wanted to be branded that badly by me, you could've just asked, Princess." And there went the color to her features, as her eyes almost popped out of their sockets in surprise. She struggled weakly to get away, to no avail. He'd just chuckled, holding her in place more firmly.
The future was, as of yet, still uncertain. But, with this little lady by his side, ride or die...yeah. They'd make it through. Fire and flowers, working together. Whatever lay in wait, for either of them, they'd take it on, and the rest of the world, ready to bring the pain...or peace.
Welcome to the new age. They were naturals at this. They promised, and they always kept a promise.
A/N: WHEW! Finally done! W00t! My internet crashed the first time I was editing this, so I had to go through it all over again with a fine-toothed comb. -_-"
Wound up writing another story, set in the same universe/timeline as the first. Decided to post it as a continuation in a collection, not so much a new Chapter, if that makes sense? Seems like this is gonna be a new oneshot series, I guess...updated whenever I get a new baby plot-bunny nibbling at me. Genres will vary, spoilers may occur. 'shrugs' This one was loosely based on my own experiences getting tatted up. Another chunk is obvious fantasy. The last of it?
...well, I *do* have a Dabi tattoo.
As always, feedback is welcomed, encouraged, and appreciated. PLEASE, let me know if any of this is hitting the mark, or just failing miserably. I'm getting kinda worried here. Until next time, whenever that may be, take care, and stay safe.