𝑺𝑻𝑨𝑹𝑽𝑬𝑫 𝑨𝑭𝑭𝑬𝑪𝑻𝑰𝑶𝑵 ➣ Dabi

oh no

Stares. Everyone stares at you. At your face. At your body. At you. And you hate it. You hate because you start overthinking, wondering, what's wrong with you? Why do they keep staring at you? Could be the scar on your face. The claw marks on your neck and face. Maybe that's why. They start from just above your jaw to your collarbone. It's not they affect your looks very much. They just attracted attention. So, everyone stares at you and stares at you and stares and stares and stares and stares and it's getting annoying. You want them to stop.

Three years ago, you got that scar. You were a bystander to a villain attack and ended up getting caught in the middle of the fight. When it was over, the pro heroes yelled at you for being so negligent to the fact that there was a fight going on. To be honest, you don't really like the pro heroes. You don't hate them enough to want to ruin them but unlike most people, you don't have an idol that's a pro hero. Mainly because the heroes you have met were not friendly to you or anyone. That and as a kid, your family was attacked by a villain and no matter how loud you screamed, the heroes never came. You ended up alone in your home for a week before someone came and found you. Since then, a few other events, you've just been sort of neutral about the heroes.

You frown, trying not to burst into tears with the way people look at you. You wish you weren't so sensitive. But from being so touch starved as a child and having no one show any love nor affection, the little things mean the most. So, when someone looks at you in the slightest wrong away, you overthink and start to imagine the worst things. The completely worst things.

Your quirk is Energy refill. You can magnify other people's quirks by just thinking about them or looking at them. They do have to be within 200 yards of you if you want to just think about them. In order to do that, you have to close your eyes, meditate, and picture that person, or persons, in your head to enhance their quirk. Just looking at them isn't as strong or as fast as meditating and thinking about them but it works good enough. It works for healing too. Basically, you can speed up the body, allowing the body to heal quicker, have faster metabolism, longer strength and endurance, and stronger quirks. You've mainly used it for healing, just a few people, not many, and sometimes you'll help someone's quirk out. But for the most part, it's been healing. A downside is the extreme migraines you get and how quickly your body weakens. Another reason why you don't use your quirk much. You've done it once to the point where you passed out for several hours and had to refill your body with power drinks and nutrient filled foods. You try to stay away from using your quirk to the maximum state.

Some people wonder why you can't heal yourself. In all truthfulness, you don't entirely know. You've tried to heal the scars on your body but no matter how much mediation you do, or how long you stare at yourself in the mirror. You can't heal yourself. You can't get more strength or endurance or faster metabolism. It won't work for you. But it works for everyone around you. Sure, your quirk would be great to be a sidekick but not a pro hero. You can't slow people's body down the way you can speed them up. So, there's no defense to this quirk.

Sighing, you pull out your phone and shuffle your playlist, putting your headphones in so people don't try and talk to you. You're only out for a quick minute. Then you get to back home and relax, away from everyone. People aren't your favorite. They're intimidating. Scary. Condescending. And arrogant. You'd much rather be alone in the comfort of your own apartment. You graduated school a year ago and now you work at small flower shop on the outskirts of the city as you study to become interior designer.

People rush past you, obviously in a hurry to get places. One person bumps into you so hard, the two of you end up falling over. He groans.

"Ow. Watch where you're going, idiot!" he yells, looking at his sliced-up palm.

"I'm so sorry," you say softly.

"I cut myself because of you. Now I'm going to be late to work. Thanks a lot," he says, an angry sneer on his face.

"I'm sorry," you say again, choking up.

"You better be! Look what you did to me!"

You flinch at his tone. You don't get yelled at a lot but when you do, you start to cry.

Just to get him to leave you alone, you make eye contact with him and speed up his healing. He watches in awe as his cut slowly closes up and is soon nothing but a faint scar.

"How did you—Hey! Wait!" he hollers at you as you run off.

You don't want to talk to him any longer than you already did. He might be grateful that you healed him but even still, you don't want to talk to him any longer. First of all, you're on the verge of tears, and second of all, you've got social anxiety. So obviously, you're going to run off before he can talk to you and get to know you.

In your head, everyone's out to get you. They've all got ulterior motives. All of them. They want to put on a fake smile to get under your skin, to know your deepest, darkest secrets so they can black mail you if they must. You hate the way people stare at you because you don't want them to know you. You don't want them to learn who you are, what you like, dislike, anything. So, yeah, you don't have any friends. You don't want any. Too much drama. And a boyfriend is a big no. Why give yourself up to someone who could potentially leave you for someone else?

Long story short, you're guarded and closed off. You don't want to let your walls down. It's just a scary thought to bring people into your life. It's not something you want to do. Not at all.

You slow to a stop, looking around as you suddenly realize you're all alone. You must've turned down an alley that led to a dark part of town. You bite your lip, quickly turning around only to bump into someone.

"Sorry," you say quickly as you try to walk around them.

But they grab your arm. And pull you back.

You look up at the man holding you. He's wearing a mask, one with funky lines on it and a top hot with a long feather. His suit is a mix of red and orange with a black vest and black matching gloves.

Before you can even react, something happens and you black you. You feel like you can't breathe for a moment before you stop feeling things and it becomes utterly quiet. Floating. You feel like you're floating and you don't know how to stop. It feels so weird. So, strange.

And then you're spit back into reality. You gasp, sucking in air. Before you can even open your eyes or even scream, you're gagged and bag is put over your head. Someone ties your hands behind your back and your legs to the legs of the chair. You squirm, trying to scream.

What's going on, you want to yell. Let me go, you want to scream. Please, get me out of here, you want to beg.

Because something's not right. Something's wrong. Very wrong. And you can't help but feel like maybe this is only the beginning.  

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