Chapter Text
Gentle hands.
Consciousness was a struggle, but he knew someone had picked him up.
Piercing blue eyes.
His ears were ringing. His vision had become dark, but he could feel soft clothing pressed against his cheek. He breathed in, and the scent of the jacket was comforting in a way.
The smell of smoke.
Something was familiar, but he couldn’t place it. His thoughts were too scattered to focus on anything, and his mind soon became dark once more.
•••
Blue flames danced among Natsuo’s dreams that night. Touya’s name was a ghost that lingered in his mind, the sound of which almost forgotten on his tongue. As the flames died out, the young man slowly became aware that he was, in fact, awake. He felt the pain before anything else, his head splitting and body aching. He opened his eyes, calmly and unhurriedly.
To his surprise, the room was unfamiliar to him. His eyes scanned his surroundings, trying to figure out where he was and hoping something around him could give a clue as to why he was here. He seemed to be in some kind of cheap apartment or motel. In terms of belongings and
decoration, the bedroom didn’t have much of anything. The bed was comfortable but blank. A simple dresser sitting across from it held a small tv. The nightstand had a medicine bottle and a glass of water, as well as a lamp and electronic clock. It read 3:27pm. Had he really slept that long?
Natsuo pushed himself up, not without struggle, to lean against the headrest. Pulling back the covers, he looked at himself for a considerable amount of time. The scent of rubbing alcohol was faint. His sweatpants were loose and hid away a leg covered in bandages. Bruises dotted his arms. Taking his hoodie off (though the action caused him to wince), he found his abdomen plastered with bandaging that he dared not remove. Bandages on his head, too. ‘How many bandages did the resident of this place own?’ Someone had to have done all this, which raised even more questions.
Natsuo had so many questions. What happened? How did he get hurt? Who took care of his injuries? What was that smell coming from the next room? It made his stomach growl. Listening intently, Natsuo could hear the clanging of pots and pans, the sizzle of the stove. He needed to get up, soon, he thought as he pulled his hoodie back on.
He eyed the nightstand again, leaning to pick up the bottle of pills. Acetaminophen, it said. Opening it, he examined the pills inside as closely as he could. Yes, that seemed right. Nothing out of the ordinary, just standard store-bought pain relievers. He was sure, with the full glass of water beside him, that these were meant for him. With another glance at the dosage amount, he shook two into the palm of his hand. Popping them into his mouth, he washed it down with the water. He realized how thirsty he had been after downing the entirety of the cup.
He stopped for a moment, considering his limited options. He could wait here and hope someone would eventually come. Or perhaps fight the pain and leave the room. He wasn’t sure if it was the overwhelming hunger or the curiosity, but it certainly outweighed the first option. Turning himself, he slowly put one foot down. His left foot had some scrapes and bruises, but it was his right that worried him. His ankle was heavily wrapped and was causing him great pain. He hoped that the medicine kicked in soon. He chanced the step and put pressure on his right foot.
Bad move.
Yeah. Of course there was a good reason it was so stiffly wrapped. The sharp pain made him cry out a quick yelp. Biting his tongue, he pulled his legs back onto the bed. Natsuo held his breath, hearing the sounds of food cooking come to a stop. Then he heard the footsteps. Loud steps, which were getting only louder and closer by the second. The doorknob turned, and-
“About time you decided to wake up. Been waiting on ya for the past two days,”.
Natsuo’s stomach lurched, his heart speeding up. Out of anyone he might’ve expected to open that door, he was never prepared for what he saw. The man was lanky and thin, with spiky black hair. Though slouching, he seemed a bit shorter than Natsu, and wore a black sweatshirt and ripped black jeans. The most notable feature about the man in the doorway, however, was the coarse scarring covering the majority of his body. His skin seemed like it could fall off at any moment. Staples digging into flesh charred long ago, the patchwork man wasn’t a pretty sight.
“Dabi...” gasped Natsuo.
The villain raised his eyebrows, “Yeah? You gonna stare all day, or what?”.
“What did you do to me? Why am I here? What do you want from me?” Panic growing in his voice, Natsuo tried to force it down to no avail.
“Geez, kid, one question at a time. You always talk this much?” He drummed his fingers on the doorframe in a nonchalant manner.
“M-My dad is Endeavor!” -an unimpressed hum- “He won’t rest until he finds me! You might as well let me go and hide now, because he won’t hold back on you when he gets here. And he WILL find me!” Natsuo bluffed in a miserable attempt to intimidate the villain staring at him.
To the surprise of the college student, Dabi actually tilted his head back and laughed. Laughed as if he had been told a joke, not threatened in the slightest.
He regained his composure after a few moments and gave a grin that made Natsuo uneasy, “Whoo, sorry about that. That was good, thanks. I doubt your daddy even realizes you’re gone, much less coming to your rescue. You don’t have a hero’s quirk, do you, so why should he care? Anyways, do you want your soba cold or heated up?”.
Natsuo was bewildered. He knew his father did care about him, but he didn’t see a point in arguing with the villain when this entire situation was so messed up. And to end his words about his father with a question about what food he preferred? Nobody cares about you, you’re doomed to stay here forever, would you like fries with that? He couldn’t tell if he was serious or crazy or messing with him entirely, and perhaps that was the scariest part. He stared, his mouth agape, unsure of what to say in response to this lunatic.
“Cold soba it is, it’s been in the fridge since yesterday. Just so you know, I ain’t fixing you more food until you eat what I already made for ya,”
He left to room for about a minute, which wasn’t nearly enough time for Natsuo to collect his thoughts and assess the situation. He’s trapped with a member of the League of Villains. Even better, a member of the League who hated Natsu’s father with a passion. Not that he knew any villains who were fond of his old man, but Dabi had seemed to have a particularly strong and public hatred for the current number one hero. Natsuo can’t blame him for disliking his father, honestly. He’s been a pile of flaming garbage to Natsu and his siblings his whole life, not that society knew any of that.
He tried to recall what he had been doing last... He had taken a back alley on his way to his own apartment, ready to get home quickly. He bumped into some thugs who recognized him as Endeavor’s son, then it gets fuzzy. He supposes they attacked him, he remembers a large fist heading for his face. That would explain the headache, at least. But that still leaves a pretty big question.
Where does Dabi play into all of this?
Patchwork himself walked back in, bowl of soba in one hand and a canned Coke in the other. The white haired teen flinched a bit as he came closer with the food to sit on the nightstand. Dabi picked the empty glass up, taking it to, presumably, the kitchen before quickly returning. Natsuo’s heart faltered, remembering the pills. What if they weren’t pain relievers? What if that villain replaced it with some sort of illegal drug, knowing he would take it once he woke up?
The man must’ve seen the fear on the younger’s face, because he said “Relax, it was just a low dosage of pain relief. I didn’t drug you. You should hurry and eat, you need the energy,”. If he didn’t know any better, Natsuo would say the eyes of the murderer looked almost kind, honest. His eyes were a vibrant shade of turquoise, evoking some emotion in Natsu that he couldn’t quite place. The déjà vu was quickly written off as the memory of the High End Nomu attack, seeing Dabi fighting his dad on tv.
“Why should I trust you?”
He laughed again, “Oh, pity. You don’t trust one of Japan’s most notorious and powerful villains. How sad for you, Natsuo Todoroki. And what do you plan to do if you don’t trust me? Are you gonna starve on the thought that someone is coming to your rescue? Hate to break it to you, pal, but it’s just me and you, here,”.
Natsuo decided he was very much afraid of this man. His words were said in an almost lighthearted manner, with a veil of aloofness lazily masked over them. Natsuo was unable to tell any truth behind his speaking. Did he think this was all a game? Part of him wondered if the villain could actually care about his well being, but he quickly reasoned that he must need him for some vile plan. Why else would he keep him alive here?
“Look, if I was gonna kill you, it sure wouldn’t be from poisoning your food. I wouldn’t have spent hours cleaning and bandaging your injuries, either. Burning you back in that alley wouldn’t have left any evidence, and would’ve been much more fun, anyways. Just ask those guys who did this to ya. Oh, wait, you can’t”.
Natsuo was at even more unease. The guy was trying to hold back laughter, casually speaking of people he murdered. Why would he kill the people who hurt Natsu? How could he smile like that while talking about the ways he could kill him- was that supposed to make him feel any better? It certainly didn’t.
“Look, mistrust is the smartest decision here. There isn’t any reason I should be trusted, and I’m glad you have the sense not to immediately eat what a random villain gives you. Still, you’re gonna need to eat at some point. I’m being nice, here, so you’d better appreciate it and do what I tell ya,” Dabi said, folding his arms and leaning against the wall. He eyed Natsuo, as if waiting for something. Natsuo wasn’t sure what he wanted, or what to say, at that. After a few minutes of uncomfortable silence, the two staring at each other, the scarred man sighed. Walking over to the television, he grabbed the remote and tossed it to Natsuo. After the injured Todoroki firmly caught it in the air, Dabi spoke.
“Turn on whatever you want. Holler if you need me, I’ll be in here,” the villain spoke in a flat tone, walking out of the room and closing the door. Natsu was thankfully for the small act of privacy, at least.
Once he was sure that Dabi was gone, Natsuo moved the bowl to his lap and ate.
It tasted good.
Maybe he was going to be okay.