Being paranoid. . .is really tiring.
The night came and went when Keiji drove the both of you home, passing out almost immediately the moment you met your pillow halfway. You would wake up to a Friday, do your class, get ready for work as usual.
. . .the only difference, being of course, the paranoia.
Whatever cockiness you felt that time in the alley yesterday was long gone, leaving you to be on your guard almost all the time. The passing sounds of an obnoxiously loud motorcycle, that clatter from the kitchen when the neighbor's music momentarily rumbled the entire building's walls, your cat treading dangerously close to the figurines Yuyu had perched on one of the cabinets. . .by the Gods it was tiring.
Getting to work wasn't easy either. You were starting to wonder just how much longer it took you to get to work just stalling by alleys, trying your best to speed past them without looking unnatural. It didn't work of course, you still looked like a frigid doll trying to run but failing. Use your knees, girl! Walking with your legs fully straight made you look stupid.
But you had to thank your lucky stars eventually, getting to work without so much as a single encounter with a maniac. Didn't know how and why that would be a priority on a list of what not to come across in your usual life, yet here you are.
Despite how it hindered the first few minutes, you eventually fell back into a rhythm and forgot about the entire thing, much too busy getting distracted by the new proposed challenge. Get a perfect score on the newly added karaoke machine, and you get a free meal. Simple, yet hilarious, and you were quite sure the old thing was pretty rigged.
So your shift came and went, and before you knew it you were once again met with an empty apartment.
"Nene? Yuyu? You guys home??" You called out, but you didn't exactly expect that much if a response. It would be a cold day in hell for anyone in this house to respond to a call, so you didn't think too much of it.
You dumped your shoes on the rack to your right, stretching with a yawn as you stripped yourself of any heavy layers. You'd deal with them tomorrow, the start of a weekend a welcomed one for laundry.
"Sir Hamilton?" No surprise that there wasn't a response there either, walking to the kitchen as you put your bag down on the counter. But your eyes land on the brightly colored sticky note that stuck to the dull gray of the fridge, a raised brow as you approached it.
'Dinner's upstairs! - Nejire <3'
You smile, but ultimately raise a brow as you retrieve the piece of paper, dumping it into a drawer filled to the brim of similarly brightly colored paper. Some time ago you noticed a drawer that no one really used, and you and Yuyu decided to just dump whatever. You put one of Nejire's sticky notes there first as a joke, but now? Oh boy, if you could sell these for a buck you'd be running your own boutique by now.
You decided that your clothes were good enough, the usual shirt and jeans as you grabbed a stray jacket from the couch and headed for the closed—but not locked—window.
Prying it open was an easy enough task, an obnoxious scratch-like noise as you pushed it the farthest you could. Cold wind met your face ungracefully, yelping quietly when you managed to exit onto the metal landing. It clattered, but not enough to alert the entirety of long island city, so that much was good at least.
It took a lot of cursing and a prayer before you eventually reached the landing right above, grinning when you find the rest of your family gathered in the living room of the resident Jirou's.
YOU ARE READING
𝙙𝙚𝙖𝙙, 𝙙𝙖𝙧𝙡𝙞𝙣𝙜, 𝙙𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙢𝙨 || ᵈᵃᵇⁱ
Fiksi Penggemar// dabi x reader fic, au Dabi never questioned where he came from, never asked who he was before all this. And when he finally did start asking questions. . .why was it so hard to get his answers?
