** TRIGGER WARNING – mild physical violence ahead, if this is a trigger for you please consider skipping this chapter **
True to Bruiser’s words, it did indeed only take 15 minutes and then you sheepishly exited the room, walking very hesitantly.
Dabi looked up as you walked out and smirked.
“How did you go?” he asked as he gingerly shifted his weight from one ass cheek to the other.
“Ouch,” you replied, holding your arms a little off your body so that nothing was touching your being.
“Felt that,” he grunted as he stood up and walked with you to the front desk to pay.
You both made the payment and left together in silence, mentally nursing your metaphorical wounds (new piercings) as you slowly walked back to the bus stop.
“So when do you have to come back to have the bar replaced?” Dabi quizzed you.
“Few weeks… once the swelling goes down,” you replied with a forced smile, “you?”
“Yeah same,” he replied, “how does the tat look?”
“Hot as fuck. I can’t wait to show you when we get home,” you said, your brain suddenly sending you an alert that there was something you wanted to ask regarding the meaning of the tattoo, “oh hey… while we’re on the topic of tattoos…” You ventured cautiously. “Do, uh, you know what your name means in Japanese?”
By this time you had both gotten to the bus stop and Dabi’s aura changed the minute you asked the question.
“Yeah,” he said in the most snarling voice you had ever heard him use.
“Why….” you whispered, looking at him with a perplexed and fearful look on your face, “why would they name you that?”
“It’s not my given name,” he growled out, “Dabi is the name I gave myself after that bastard tried to do away with me in the flames. He tried to cremate me. But he can never erase me.”
His darkened, manic looking eyes flicked up and met your head on.
“My birth name was Touya… Touya Todoroki. It was a great name… but I’ve been born again.”
Before either of you could register what was going on, Dabi had reached out and wrapped his fingers around your throat, gripping your windpipe in a painful manner.
“D-Dabi…” you choked out, fear filling your eyes.
“Don’t ever call me by Touya. Ever.” His dark, threatening tone made your blood run cold and you whimpered with real fear. He had never spoken to you like that, nor touched you like that ever before.
“Dabi,” you whispered in a hoarse voice, “you’re hurting me.”
You shakily reached your hand up to his wrist, gripping onto it with a weak grip as your terrified eyes continued to plead into his.
Suddenly he realized what he was doing and let you go abruptly then stepped away, turning his head away so that you couldn’t see his face anymore.
You, in turn, stepped away as well and turned side on to him, staring down at the ground as your brain tried to compute what had just happened.
“He… hurt me…” your hand reached to your throat and you rubbed the ache that was still there, “he’s never done that before. I didn’t mean to trigger him. I thought he had talked all of this out with the therapist? Is he dangerous with this …. thing… he’s still harbouring?…”
You glanced across at him then looked away again, noting how crestfallen he now looked.
“Fuck,” Dabi thought as he pushed his hands into his pockets and stared at his shoes, “what the fuck just happened. I… didn’t feel in control of myself at all.”
He scowled and grit his teeth together, only just aware of the bus as it pulled up at the stop.
You and Dabi didn’t sit together on the ride home, there was some serious strain on your emotions at that point and distance was the only comfortable option and once back on your street, you ran ahead so that you could get inside and away from Dabi- making a bee line for the bed.
Once in the room, you gently crawled up onto the bed and laid down, the emotions spilling forth as you settled down.
“Why did he hurt me like that?” you cried to yourself, “I’m not going to stay around if he’s going to be violent…”
In pain from your tattoo and piercings, as well as from how he had grabbed you around your throat, you fell into a fitful sleep, allowing your body to rest while Dabi paced back and forth in the kitchen downstairs.
The inner turmoil was starting to get to him as he grabbed his head in his hands and pulled at his roots.
“Fuck. I’m just like him,” he thought as his brain reminded him of the image of you with his hands around your throat, “I did that without even thinking…”
He dragged his hands down his face in anguish, fingers stretching down the rough scars across his cheek line and jaw.
In a fit of self hatred he balled up his fists and turned to the wall, throwing a heavy punch right through the gyprock then slamming his head against it.
“I hate myself.”
Blood trickled down over his pieced brow, to his eyelid, then down his cheek as he pulled his fist back to look at his knuckles.
He flexed his fingers, the sting and ache in his knuckles making him feel a little better- that he had caused himself a bit of pain to punish himself for what he did to you.
It’s not enough though. I don’t deserve her.”
It was a few hours later that you woke and your first thought was of Dabi.
“Where is he?”
You sat up in bed and listened but all was quiet so you hoped out of bed to see if you could find him.
Softly you tiptoed down the stairs and walked into the kitchen, your eyes falling on the back of your man as he sat slumped in a chair by the table.
“Dabi?” you whispered softly.
He shifted in his seat but didn’t look at you and you hesitantly made your way up behind him.
“You ok?” you asked gently, keeping your distance from him just in case he snapped.
When he didn’t reply, you made an arc and walked around him to try and see his face, and that’s when you saw the blood dripping from his head.
“Oh my god,” you gasped, abandoning your caution and closing the gap quickly between him and you, “what happened? What did you do?”
You gently took his chin in your hand and tilted his head up, noting the large cut/bruise on his forehead as he kept his eyes averted from yours.