Convalescence || Dabi x Reader

Chapter 11: The Mental Breakdown Response

Warnings: none

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(y/n)'s POV

A venti decaf java chip Frappuccino, triple shot – that's what I'm supposed to be making at the moment. Well, I am making it, but it's not what my mind is focused on. It hasn't stopped replaying the events and words shared from last night since I woke up and it is starting to interfere with my work – not that I care much about this dump. As stiff and defensive as Touya can be during most days, last night was different; he genuinely felt the emotions that have been festering within him for years, and he did so in front of me. Touya looked so vulnerable in that moment as he admitted how little he thought he changed. It was almost uncanny. Then, seeing him look so peaceful as he slept was ... I don't know what to call it, but it was good.

My hands routinely place the customer's order on the pickup counter. I want to do something for him. Sure, I have helped his physical state to improve greatly since our first meeting, but that feeling of not doing enough repeatedly pulses from the back of my skull. I struggle to determine where I could start when the idea hits me: give him a reminder of that change he is blind to.

What's something he does on a regular basis? He cooks dinner for us most nights; he reads from the small collection of books on his shelf; he tries at least to sleep every night; he trains, he breathes, he showers, he uses the bathroom – wait, that's genius. The bathroom is used because of a natural, unavoidable bodily function, so he must go in there daily; how can I use that? Should I put something on the wall or the counter in front of ... the mirror. If I offer something to change his appearance, not only will he be reminded of it by his reflection, but it will be a physical part of him. Touya thinks he doesn't change, so I'll challenge that notion.

The moment my shift ends, I hurry out the door and to the nearest department store. Paying for my desired gift, I walk home – at least, I start with walking, though by the end I am sprinting. The instant I manage to unlock the door, an admittedly difficult task with all of this adrenaline, I slam it open causing Touya to jump. I look over to the kitchen counter where he is working, finding his hands in the middle of putting together a cold wrap. Perfect, nothing is on the stove. Before he has the chance to say a word, I raise the grocery bag and motion for him to follow me into the bathroom.

"Are you going to explain why you want me in the bathroom?" Touya questions with a look of suspicion.

"It's not weird, I swear," I say before reaching into the bag, "After last night, I wanted to either do or get you something to start quieting the voices in your head. You had said that you haven't changed. Despite the tremendous changes in you that I personally have witnessed, I am not the one who can change your mind on this matter. So, I decided to get you something to act as a daily reminder of how much you have changed." I finally reveal to him the contents of the bag: black hair dye and its accompanying supplies.

"Black is the opposite of white, which is the hair color you've had since you were a kid. I thought doing something so simple yet contrasting would serve as a counter to everything from your past that haunts you, even just a little. It is your hair and your choice, so I won't force it onto you. It might be fun though," I finish, searching his face for thoughts.

"I ..." he tries to begin as he plays absent mindedly with his long hair. Touya's expression contorts into one of confliction. After a suffocating minute of silence, he attempts again, "I am in need of a haircut."

His turquoise eyes tell me everything his mouth won't: a nervousness toward the unfamiliar action and a desperate wanting for something to prove him wrong. I can't stop myself from grinning wildly as I set up a working space in the bathroom – this includes a chair with a dark towel draped over the back, an old t-shirt for Touya to wear, and organizing the required tools. He sits down facing the mirror and I walk around behind him, brushing through his white hair that reaches just below his shoulders – his hair likely hasn't been cut since before the incident.

"I can smell the scent of your shampoo lingering in your hair, so its already clean and ready to cut. How short do you want it?" I ask. 

Touya spends some time thinking before explaining to me his desired hairstyle. His hair, before it grew long, would naturally spike upward in untamable tufts, so there is no avoiding them. He explains that he wants his hair to be about as short as previous, but to add a side part to keep it different and more manageable.

We both understand that I have no idea how to properly cut hair, but it surprisingly turns out pretty okay. I think the poofy nature of his hair covers up my mistakes and lack of experience, but I'm going to pretend that I made it look good on my own. Now comes the fun part: the actual dying process. 

I meticulously apply the black hair dye to individual sections of his hair until it looks like a black glob upon his head – which is normal. After putting the wig cap over it, we move to the kitchen to eat the nearly forgotten wraps that Touya made earlier while waiting for the dye to set in.

After washing out the dye in the tub, I turn the chair to face away from the mirror while I blow dry and style his hair. I still haven't managed to fully come down from my adrenaline high, so I am bouncing on the balls of my feet throughout this process. 

When I finish, I stand in front of him and gesture for him to stand; my head needs to tilt upward to look at him. When did he get taller than me? The thought passes; I spend a moment critiquing my work and reading the anticipation that is printed over his skin.

"Turn around," I softly smile.

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A/N: First, we had the piercings, and now, we have the hair dye. It's part two of Touya's transition into Dabi. I also added in a small detail that I picked up from the manga: the growth spurt that Touya had after he disappeared. I felt that it follows logically with his rapidly progressing health and strength. It sounds boring when I write it out, but I like speaking my mind so that's what I'll keep doing. 

Speaking of which, I enjoyed following (y/n)'s thoughts during this process, though I do feel like it felt stale at points. Feel free to leave any thoughts or comments. Happy holidays!

Word Count: 1207