Commission for the lovely @elegantwizardtree <3
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This isn’t the first time they meet like this.
Ever since Shouto transferred his patrols to the most dangerous zone in his jurisdiction, he’s had his hands full with all types of criminals. From petty thieves to the remnants of the Yakuza, every day is a new problem for him. More often than not, he finds himself on his own – something that’s always been drilled into him as the worst mistake he can make. He doesn’t worry, though, because he knows he can handle himself.
Still, nothing could’ve prepared him that day when, after a particularly rough fight, he finds himself barely conscious, injured and at the back of a dark alley. Fumbling with the supplies around his waist, he barely manages to stop the bleeding on the gash in his leg before he’s falling unconscious against the damp brick wall.
By the time he regains consciousness, the first licks of early sunlight are barely gracing the tops of the buildings around the alley. It takes him a few moments to remember what happened, but as soon as he does he’s forcing himself to stand.
“I wouldn’t do that if I were you.”
His head whips to the side, eyes wide in high alert. There, at the back of the alley, stands a dark shadow.
“Who are you?” The hero asks, his right hand already producing a flame big enough to hopefully intimidate the stranger.
The shadow, though, chuckles.
“Sorry bro, but that fire won’t do shit against me.”
Dabi emerges from the shadows, slowly walking towards Shouto’s slumped form. The hero, as shocked as he is, swiftly shifts his weight against the other hand, leaving his icy side open and ready to attack.
Dabi rolls his eyes, and carefully kneels a couple feet away from the hero. “Relax, I’m not gonna finish you off or anything. I’m too old for that shit.”
Shouto frowns, yet still keeps his guard up. “What do you want?”
Dabi shrugs. “Nothing, really. Just saw your half-dead ass in my territory and thought it would be real fun to have a hero owe the likes of me a favor.”
It’s Shouto’s turn to roll his eyes. “As if.”
Dabi only stares at him for a few seconds before the piercing screech of an ambulance breaks the moment.
“Well, that’s my queue to leave. See ya, Shouto.” And with that, the villain disappears back in the shadows.
It becomes a pattern, after that. Shouto gets separated from the group, gets injured, and someway or another finds himself in the same damp alley.
Dabi’s alley.
And like a curse, his brother manages to show up every single time. He helps treat his wounds, calls an ambulance when they’re worse than usual, and just as he arrives, he disappears in the shadows.
On one particular occasion, Shouto lays on the concrete floor, blood dripping from a spot hidden between his long mane of overgrown hair. He groans, clearly in pain, and struggles to reach for a painkiller. Once it’s trapped between his trembling fingers, he makes no show of swallowing the thing dry. It tears into his throat, makes his eyes water, but he endures with the promise of pain relief.
He doesn’t know how long he lays there, but between one breath and the next, the familiar shadow is leaning over him. He can only look into those eyes, so similar to his own, and moan in pain. Dabi clicks his tongue, and with a gut-wrenching gentleness cleans the wound and bandages his head. He then slips down the wall and sits next to him before carefully propping the young man’s head on his lap.
It’s strangely comforting, but Shouto can’t even think about moving away. He closes his eyes and sighs as gentle fingers thread through the tangled bi-colored locks. He thinks he hears a faint hum, something familiar that he can’t quite point out, but before he can ask, the world begins to fade out.
“Don’t fall asleep, Shouto. Not yet. The ambulance is on its way.”
He clings on to consciousness, on those swift fingers detangling his hair, the warmth of the legs supporting him. The sirens grow unbearably loud, and he barely feels his brother gently laying him back on the pavement before the paramedics burst in. When he leaves the hospital, he finds a familiar dark coat amongst his belongings.
“It was bunched up under your wound,” the nurse explains.
Shouto can’t help but smile. He’ll make sure to wash it and return it to its rightful owner soon.
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Commissions are still open!!!
