𝑺𝑻𝑨𝑹𝑽𝑬𝑫 𝑨𝑭𝑭𝑬𝑪𝑻𝑰𝑶𝑵 ➣ Dabi

strong

"She's still a kid."

"She's nineteen."

"So? Just barely an adult. We're heroes. We don't hurt the people who need us to be there for them. You've worked her so hard, she's been asleep for the past two fucking days! How is that heroic?"

"Hawks, please, calm down."

"I am calm," he hisses.

You whine softly, not loud enough for them to hear, but enough that you wince again your sore throat. Your head aches, your body hurts, and you feel as though you've been ripped apart only to be hastily put back together. And the screaming back and forth is not helping, nor did it help you stay asleep to dream longer. If you could, you would roll your eyes at them.

"You think the League didn't do the same shit to her? You just threw her back into the hell she finally thought she was free from. If you keep doing that, then what makes us better than the villains?"

Slowly, so slowly, you try to move. You start with your toes, with little movements, to your fingertips, curling them into a fist. The room goes silent, the arguing dissipating before you feel a hand grab yours gently.

"Y/n? Are you awake?"

Nodding, you squeeze their hand. It's almost as if there's invisible weights holding your eyelids down, otherwise you'd open them. But you try anyway. For the first few moments, you can barely hold them open. You keep blinking, closing your eyes and trying once again before repeating the process. Everyone watches you intently. Everyone as in: All Might, Aizawa, Midnight, Gran Torino, Principal Nezu, an old lady who you assume is Recovery Girl, a few other heroes who must be teachers, and who can only assume is Hawks since he glares at one side of the room. All Might, Aizawa, and Principal Nezu are behind Hawks, who holds your hand, while Midnight and Gran Torino are on the other side with the other heroes.

"How are you feeling?" All Might asks. He gingerly sits down on the bed, careful of your legs, and rests a hand on your knee, smiling softly down at you.

Tired, you try to say. You feel your lips move, but no sound comes out. So you try again. This time, a strangled, quiet sound barely leaves your throat, hurting it even more.

"Don't strain yourself. It's okay," Hawks says softly to you. Pushing his yellow tinted glasses up to keep the hair out of his eyes and to really look at you, he smiles. Not a "Hi, I'm Hawks," kind of smile. An "I pity you," smile. His golden eyes, with neatly drawn on eyeliner, watch you, assessing your emotions, your feelings, reading you. It strikes a sense of fear in you. What does he want to know about you? Does he not trust you either? But he was just defending you. So why are his eyes prying for more?

You look away quickly as you bite the inside of your cheek, as you remove your hand from his gloved one, instead turning your head to face the window near your bed. You try to say something, but your throat is too dry.

"Water. She needs some water. Will someone be a hero and at least get her that since you refused to feed her during training?" Although you had out-rightly refused Hawks's kindness, he still demands for your benefit. What's he trying to do?

"You know, Hawks, we do the same thing to the students but you don't fight us for that." Though Midnight's voice says otherwise, she almost looks guilty, and regretful. But you can't be sure with her. So far, you want to stay away from her. She looks nice on the outside, and her smile is inviting, but in all honesty, she's been the one pushing you past your limits.

"No," he growls. "You slowly helped them worked at their quirk longer. You didn't force them to sit in a chair for hours, with no food or water, and relentlessly use their quirk to its max limit. That's different."

She scoffs, her eyes landing on yours, and just as quickly she looks away shaking her head, frowning. A moment later you're handed a glass of water from Aizawa. All Might helps you sit up and just to be safe, since your hands are shaking, he helps you tip the glass back and drink a few sips. After finishing the glass, you set it down on the nightstand next to you and turn your attention to All Might.

"I don't want to stay here," you say quietly, careful not to strain your voice.

He doesn't hide the shock from his face. "What? Y/n," he pleads, pity taking over his facial features.

"You've treated me worse than the League." You bite your trembling lip, picking at the blanket in your lap, avoiding eye contact with everyone in the room. "I just want to rest. Stop pushing me. I'm not a hero like you guys."

"It doesn't take much to be a hero," Hawks says, directing your attention to him. "Just like it doesn't take much to be a villain. Just because we get the title Pro Hero, doesn't mean there aren't other heroes out there."

You frown. Sure, he's got a good point, but that doesn't mean you're a hero. Your heart belongs to the League of Villains. They're villains, meaning you are too.

You lean you head back, eyes falling shut, and thoughts racing. It's silent, everyone waiting for you to finally speak. A steady beep from a heart monitor is the only noise that disturbs your thoughts. It's annoying beep. Beep. Beep. Beep. Beep. Beep. Beep. Beep. Beep. Everything in the room just feels like it's suffocating you and for a second, you fear Touya was wrong and you actually can't do this. But you remember what he taught you in all your yoga sessions.

"Just because someone gives you a bad look doesn't mean they're out to kill you," he had said, his legs apart as he leaned his upper body down while resting his forearms on the mat to stretch. You followed his movements, leaning down and biting back the uncomfortable position from your stretch. "I'm not saying you have to trust them, but you don't have to run and cry from them."

You frowned but said nothing. So, he continued.

"This goes for the heroes especially."

"What do you mean?" you asked as he began to lean his body to the side more, deepening the stretch. You followed, but kept your eyes on him, waiting for an answer.

"They're the most suspicious out of them all, baby," he replied coolly. "They're going to stare at you to get answers. Heroes are supposed to always be thinking, or so I've heard. If they see you looking around fearfully, their attention will be on you. Because of that, they'll talk about you, the word will go around, blah blah blah, and soon enough, every hero agency will know you and your face. Those nosy bastards," he muttered. "They think they're helping but they're only prying. So, they're an exception. Never trust a hero. Got it?"

"Got it."

"Good. That's my girl." You smiled. "So keep that pretty head of yours up and remember you're strong."

You nodded and repeated his words. "I'm strong."

"Good. Now give me a kiss."

You're strong. You are. You've come a long way since you were kidnapped by the League. Because of that, you can handle this. "I'll help," you say. "But no more training my quirk. I'm not a student."

"I have an idea," Hawks says, and the smile on his face worries you. "She can work with me. At my Hero Agency."  

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