**TW: Mention of parental death.**
When a black portal opens up, allowing Dabi to step back through into Girans office, his hands buried into his pockets as usual, you're leaning over the other side of Girans desk, drawing.
Sensing he'd upset you with his earlier question, the older man had asked you what you enjoyed doing. When you mentioned that you like to draw, his face lit up and he quickly handed you a plain piece of paper and a random biro that he found on his messy desk.
At first, you were a little hesitant to draw, watching him carefully as you flicked the pen between your fingers. But you had eventually caved and began drawing small doodles at the corners of the page, which had led the way to what you were drawing now.
You're so sucked into your drawing that you forget about how nervous you were about being left with Giran, barely even registering Dabi's reappearance.
Giran is on the phone, watching you occasionally and shaking his head in disbelief.
You don't even notice him giving Dabi a look, tilting his head towards you as if to silently say 'look at that'.
You do, however, notice Dabi's mass of black hair appearing close to your face as he leans over your shoulder, the ends of his hair tickling your cheek.
"Well, wouldya look at that." Dabi breathes, a small smirk tugging on his mismatched lips. "We got ourselves a mini prodigy."
You're not overly familiar with that word, so you just blush and try to cover the artwork, despite Dabi moving away from you anyway, his hand feeling a little warmer than usual when it settles atop of your head to ruffle your hair playfully.
"Ah, Dabi, how did it go?" Giran asks, giving him a grin and finally placing his phone onto the messy desk.
You see Dabi flop carelessly into the seat next to you in your peripheral vision, and decide it's probably polite to take an interest in this subject too, seeing as Dabi seemed happy enough to include you in the outcome of the interview he'd been to.
You set the biro down on the desk too, giving Dabi your full attention.
He runs his hands through his hair, leaning back in the chair and looking up at the ceiling.
"About as well as it could go with a guy like him." Dabi says with a slight shrug.
It's minimal, something not many people would pick up on if they didn't spend twenty four hours a day with Dabi, but as much as his face seems set in its usual bored expression, his eyebrows are ever so slightly closer together than usual. But not in anger. This seemed more like stress.
"Yes, Shigaraki does have a pretty short temper." Giran chuckles, reaching for a cigarette before remembering himself and making out it was just an itch. "He's young. Just like you two."
Dabi doesn't seem overly impressed or bothered by whatever Giran has to say about this Shigaraki guy, picking at a loose staple along his wrist before scrunching his nose up and looking over at Giran.
"That hand is way more gross in person. Coulda warned me."
"He has a gross hand?" You ask, trying to involve yourself with a little frown on your own face now. You hadn't really taken Dabi for the type that would comment on other people's appearances.
"Somethin' like that, yeah." Dabi replies, although he doesn't look at you directly when he says it, instead giving Giran a dead stare, which the older man seems to seem completely unbothered by.
"I'm sure he'll get back to you soon. Kurogiri tends to keep him in line." Giran says in a clear attempt to soothe, completely ignoring Dabi's comment about Shigaraki's hand.
Dabi 'hmph's and leans back into his chair again. For a second there, he looked a little mad at Giran, his elbows rested on his thighs as he'd leaned forward and stared Giran down.
The air was beginning to feel a little heavy and uncomfortable for you, you could feel an aura coming off Dabi that you'd never experienced before, and it wasn't the usual welcoming and warm one he gave you.
He eventually peers over at you, his eyes cold, burning as they meet yours. The sudden change in his gaze sets you on edge. This version of Dabi wasn't a friendly one, and your previous experiences were holding up red flags that you desperately wanted to ignore.
"Carry on with your drawin' a sec, 'kay kid?" He asks, his usual drawl still as even as ever whenever he spoke to you, even if there was something sharper and meaner about the way he was looking directly at you.
It's when he reaches to ruffle your hair and you flinch that you immediately look away from him in fear of having been the straw that broke the camel's back, expecting him to grab your hair, or at least yell.
But he doesn't, his arm flies back instead as though your flinch had burned him.
There's a brief pause before he clears his throat.
"My bad, kid. Rule two, huh?" He says calmly, his chair squeaking as it moves backwards. You see him standing up in your peripheral vision as you make a show of silently returning to drawing, scratching some form of shading roughly on one of the flowers you'd drawn. "Gonna go smoke, 'kay? Giran."
Giran immediately stands too, leaning over to point at your drawing, the tapping of his finger on your paper drawing your eyes up to his.
"When you're shading, it's important to know where the light's comin' from. You got me, kid?" He asks, nodding for you to look back down at your drawing. "If the light's comin' from here, you gotta shade from dark to light facin' it. That make sense?"
Your eyes follow his finger as he explains, and you slowly nod.
"Yeah. I get it." You say quietly.
"Smart girl." Giran praises, giving you a grin even though you don't look directly at him. "Back in five."
You nod, pretending to be fully immersed in your drawing.
You don't pay any mind to Dabi as he walks past, feeling his eyes on you until he passes. You know it's better to keep your head down when people are in moods. The less you say the better, the less chance of annoying them any more.
You can't help but wonder what it is that caused the change though.
Had the interview gone badly? And now he was stressed because he'd promised you that you could still tag along?
Had the interview gone well, but something about it meant that you couldn't continue to follow him, and he was mad or upset about it?
Or even worse, had being away from you, although it was only for about an hour, highlighted how much he missed being alone and not having an annoying ten year old following him around everywhere?
You're only really made conscious that you physically exist again when you hear the door open again, and you realize that you'd been staring at your still hand as it clutches the pen Giran had given you earlier.
There are little wet spots on your drawing, smudging a few areas of ink.
You wipe your face quickly as you hear Dabi and Girans voices get louder, trying to get rid of any trace of emotion from your face.
You dip your head a little as they come into view, feigning real concentration on your drawing and praying that your hair hid any remnants of the tears you'd just spilled.
"Up ya get, Star. Let's get some food, yeah?" Dabi asks, sounding a little more chirpy than before.
You look up at him slowly, blinking a little, and lowering the pen in your hand.
You'd actually managed to convince yourself he was going to leave you here with Giran in the short time the two were outside smoking.
He looks over at your drawing again, his eyes seeming softer again.
"Let's keep hold of that, yeah? When we get someplace to live, we can put it up." Dabi looks at Giran. "Ya got an elastic band?"
Giran opens up a drawer on the other side of the desk, handing Dabi an elastic band.
"Alright kid, what you gotta do is roll it up for me. 'Kay?" Dabi asks, crouching so he's nearly eye level with you as you sit at the desk.
You nod, rolling it up tight, fighting the proud smile on your face that someone actually liked your drawing enough to put it up on a wall sometime.
Once it's rolled up relatively tight you place it into Dabi's open palm, offering him a soft smile as he looks at you. He places the elastic band around it to keep it secure and hands it back to you.
You're a little uncertain about your ability to fit it into your bag, but you decide you could try your hardest to squeeze it in. You really, really wanted to see Dabi stick to his word about putting your drawing up when you managed to find somewhere to live.
The fact he said 'when we find someplace to live', nearly had the last little bit of wariness you had in your trust in him almost disappear immediately. He had only been looking after you for a little while, but if he was willing to include you in his own future plans, that must mean that you're doing something right, that you're actually wanted.
It's hard work, but you do manage to fit it in in a way that means it won't get too creased. It does mean you have to get rid of your water bottle from the night that Dabi found you, however, and you stare at it for a second in your hand.
"You won't need that anymore. Old man Giran's given us some money to tide us over 'til Shigaraki quits bein' unreasonable." Dabi informs you. "Can I touch ya?"
You nod, not really looking at him, instead looking at Giran as he leans on the doorframe of his own office, you probably were looking at him as though he were some kind of angel. He didn't have to do that, and yet he had. Probably out of pity, but it was more kindness than you were used to.
Dabi's hand makes itself apparent on your shoulder, rubbing your back softly a couple times before he raises himself up again, standing and looking down at you expectantly.
"C'mon, let's go get food." He says, motioning for you to follow him and you quickly comply, standing and bowing politely to Giran.
"Thank you for being nice!" You exclaim, bowing a little lower like one of moms boyfriends had taught you to do when you needed to be polite.
Giran blinks at you a couple times, clearly surprised by the gesture, before a smile cracks his face open and he pulls a cigarette from the carton in his pocket.
"Anytime kid." He says simply. "You behave yourself now."
You nod enthusiastically, before jogging to join Dabi as he begins to leave.
*â¢*
You were overjoyed when Dabi gave you the choice to choose what to eat, the only rule being 'no fish'.
You rarely, if ever, got to choose what you ate your whole life. If mom was in a fit enough state to cook, she'd only really ever make rice with soy sauce. Sometimes there would be cut up bits of chicken, but they usually made you sick afterwards. A lot of the time you had to try and find things around the kitchen you could eat, if mom or her boyfriends hadn't ordered take out.
You'd heard a lot about McDonalds when you went to school, and you wanted to give it a try, much to Dabi's amusement.
So that's how you ended up on a park bench with Dabi, eating potentially the best burger you'd ever eaten, kicking your feet happily and wiggling as you eat.
You can feel Dabi's eyes on you as you look around the park. It was a nice day today, the sounds of joyful yelling from kids playing were accompanying the sound of birdsong and the ducks in the pond were quacking as people fed them, and you really were perfectly happy with your happy meal.
"So... Can I ask you a couple'a questions, Star?" Dabi asks.
You nod happily, turning your attention to him as you continue eating your burger.
He looks at you silently for a second, before taking a deep breath, and leaning back as he lazily eats a french fry.
"You got a quirk?" He asks, his eyes not moving from yours.
"Mhm!" You hum, nodding your head.
"You do?" He asks, sounding a little surprised. "What is it?"
You frown a little, pausing your feast as you think about it. You weren't really aware of what it would be called. Some people had really fancy names for their quirks, you'd seen so on TV.
"I don't... I don't know what it's called." You admit sheepishly, putting the remainder of your burger down in favor of sipping your drink, enjoying the way the ice cubes sounded as you picked up the drink.
"'S fine, kid. What does it do? What is it?" Dabi asks, leaning forward again, his eyebrows knitted together ever so slightly as his attention focuses entirely on you.
You're not used to people being so interested in your quirk, and it throws you off a little bit. You'd pretty much gone your entire life so far without having to use it, and it was pretty much never mentioned, even at school.
"I can make people sick."
"Sick how?" Is his immediate follow-up question.
You cringe a little. You'd only ever really used it a couple of times. Once on your mom, and once on the boyfriend that had tried to touch you while you had slept. You weren't really too sure what it really did.
"Mom said it made her feel dizzy, and sick, and it gave her a headache, and... someone else said that it made the room spinny, and he couldn't really walk or move too well..."
You didn't really like to remember, and you were sure it was probably clear to see on your face as you began slowly eating your meal instead of eagerly eating it like you had been previously.
Dabi gives a thoughtful hum, leaning back slightly.
"It touch activated?" He asks, cocking his head.
You nod, picking at your food a little now. You were beginning to feel guilty for accidentally using your quirk on your mom that one time. You hadn't meant to, and you didn't really seem to have much control of it as it was when it first manifested, but it had really made her ill, and you hadn't been able to figure out how to stop it, so she'd had to lie on the couch with her eyes closed for a couple hours. She couldn't even yell at you because she was worried she'd throw up if she opened her mouth.
She sure had made her displeasure clear once she was able to, though.
Another thoughtful 'hm' from Dabi, his eyes on your hands as you pick at the left-overs of your burger.
"About your mom..." He begins, his words slow as they leave him, as if he was trying to drag out the question.
What little remains of your appetite fully disappears now, your eyes watering immediately, and your hands falling to your sides, clenching into fists as you focus completely on trying to get the tears to vanish.
"I know you don't like to talk about it, but I need to know what happened, kid." Dabi sighs, leaning close to you again, his scarred elbow placing itself on the desk so he can lean his cheek into his palm. "Need ta know if anyone's gonna come lookin' for you. Ain't tryna catch a case for kidnappin'."
"No-one will look for me." You reply, your voice firm and final, your jaw clenching as a tear rolls down your cheek despite your best efforts to keep it all inside.
"No daddy?" He asks softly.
"No."
There's a short silence, you stare down at your hands, trying not to directly look at him as the tears fall hard and fast now. You hadn't had to discuss this yet. You weren't ready, and you didn't want to. If you spoke about it, if you uttered the words of what happened, then that would make it real, and if it was real...
"Can ya tell me what happened?" He asks, leaning fully on the bench's table, laying his head on his hands as he crosses his arms underneath his chin. His attention is fully on you, you can feel his eyes burning into the top of your head.
There's a long silence, bar you sniffling and letting out small sobs. He doesn't try to touch you, and he doesn't even ask. You're not sure if you appreciate it, or if you want him to. A hug would be nice, but Dabi was a stranger really, no matter how good he was to you, no matter what kind of future he half-promised you.
He doesn't let up his gaze on you, either. You know he's fully expecting an answer, and he won't drop the subject until he gets one.
And you suppose, deep down, that's only fair. He had a point. He could get in trouble for kidnapping if anyone were to come looking for you, not that they would. He was also supposedly planning to find you both a place to stay in, a place where he wanted to display your drawings proudly, like mom should have.
He deserved to know.
"Mom..." You manage to say eventually, your fists tightening on your clothes.
Your words catch in your throat after that though, the rest of the sentence refusing to leave you.
Luckily, Dabi's patient. He doesn't say anything. There's no urging, no yelling at you to 'spit it out', only the familiar feeling of the weight of his burning azure gaze.
"Sh-She..." You gasp, finding it hard to breathe as your tears fall faster. "Sh-She was sleeping."
"Sleeping." Dabi repeats, thoughtfully and quietly.
You finally gain enough bravery to look up at him, your vision blurry enough from your tears for you to not have to see the expression on his face, fearful of what it may be.
"I-I think she took too much..." You explain further, your bottom lip wobbling a little before another choked gasp leaves you.
You lose yourself after that. Your eyes shut as you sob loudly, tears streaming down your face no matter how hard you tried wiping them away, furious at yourself for crying in front of Dabi, who'd never shown a single second of being upset in front of you.
Everything is suddenly real. The freeze frame stuck in your mind from finding your mom that morning suddenly no longer something you can try to convince yourself is just from your nightmare. She's really gone. For real this time. You weren't there to stop her. Her boyfriends weren't there to stop her. And the fact that you were still with Dabi, and not on any missing posters, or on the news as a missing person yet, told you that with her no longer around, you had no-one else to search for you.
You barely register the feeling of Dabi's arms wrapping around you, only really becoming aware of it when you're pulled tightly against his body, the heat that radiates off him oddly soothing, even with how upset you are.
He shushes you softly as you cry, his hand in your hair, petting it gently, clearly being very slow to avoid pulling your hair in his staples like he so often did, trying so desperately not to add any more upset.
He even starts rocking you slightly, as though you're some kind of baby.
But at this point, you don't even care anymore. You wish you were a baby again. You wished you were a baby again, back when mom was happy, awake, and loved you.
Your sobs are broken as they leave you now, your hands still angrily rubbing at your face, even with the limited movement you have with Dabi's arms around you.
"It'll be alright, little Star." Dabi sighs, his chin resting on your head. "I got you."
You gasp for air once more, your breath shaky as it leaves you. You're trying desperately to collect yourself, and failing.
"Is she okay?"
You hear someone ask, a hint of suspicion in their voice. Your face is buried into Dabi's shoulder, blocking your sight, but it sounds like a woman's voice.
"We lost her mom recently." Dabi explains to whoever it is, making you violently sob again.
"Oh my gosh, I am so sorry." The woman apologizes, ushering along what sounded like young kids, quietly hissing at them not to stare.
Dabi's hand continues petting your hair, although he stops shushing you, instead just silently holding you to him and rocking you, his body heat seeming to increase slightly.
Slowly, you begin to stop crying. The less you sniffled, the less Dabi rocked. The less you wipe your face, the looser Dabi's grip gets on you and the heat he emits begins to cool slightly.
When your breathing evens out, you feel his cheek rest on the top of your head, the line of staples gracing the skin there pressing against your skull a little uncomfortably.
"I'm sorry, Star. That shouldn'tve happened. Not to a kid." He says softly to you, slowly letting go of you, gripping your arms to move you back gently so he can look at you directly. "I ain't much kid, but I got you now. You don't gotta be scared of anythin' while I'm around, okay? I'll burn the world down for you. You got that? Us against the world from now on. I promise ya, Star."
"But-" You begin, only to get cut off by Dabi.
"It ain't much, I know kid, but you don't gotta be alone. You don't gotta end up like..." He pauses. "Look. It's too embedded in me to look after little ones, y'know? It's in the blood."
He grimaces at the end of that sentence, and a calloused thumb runs over your cheek, capturing a new tear that had managed to escape the confines of your eye.
"Look. This sh-stuff is gonna work out with Shigaraki, alright? I'll make sure of it. Even if I gotta keep my mouth shut for a while. We'll have a place to stay, an' we'll figure out how to make sure you're still learnin', and you won't have to worry about anythin' anymore." He promises, and you can tell by the determined look on his face that he genuinely means it.
"Forever?" You ask with a shaky breath,
"'Til I die." He vows.