Where We Began

Chapter Thirteen

It was complicated.

It was in moments like these that Katsuki selfishly wished that the cops had gotten to him before his instincts kicked in. They never did, of course.

The months of rigorous training - made up of quite literal blood, sweat, and tears was the culprit for that.

"What the hell is wrong with you?!" Dabi snapped, slamming Katsuki into a wall, his hands hot. The blonde could smell his burning clothes as Dabi gripped his shoulders.

Like a machine, Katsuki blinked once - his face a void of emotion. Despite this, his body lacked the same monotone, cold demeanor.

His hands ran up and down his sides as he attempted to rid them of his nervous sweat. It was dangerous- his anxiety and Dabi's anger.

It was pretty clear who's fault it was that things went wrong. It was obvious, couldn't have been more clear had someone written it in bold, bright red pen and all capital letters.

KATSUKI FUCKING BAKUGO DID IT AGAIN, he thought to himself.

The guilt ate at his insides, the urge to vomit stronger than before. His gaze subtly avoiding Dabi's praying he wouldn't notice.

His prayers went unheard. Stupid God.

"Look at me," Dabi growled, his grip on Katsuki's possibly burning shoulder tightened.

It was a stupid move, the blond knew that. But stupid moves were sort of his thing at this point.

"No."

Exhibit A.

Of course his big mouth had to step in.

"Dabi- Dabi, I didn't mean that. I'm sorry-" Katsuki began, wide eyes trying to find an out.

Crunch!

Holding his nose, Katsuki looked up at Dabi in surprise. Sure, they had their fair share of manhandling each other but just the look in his eyes and the younger could tell this was different.

"I'm sorry, okay?! I didn't- look- it was complicated, okay?" Katsuki's tried, dodging a another hit to the face.

The angrier man's fist collided with the wall. He let out a short sound of pain, holding his bleeding knuckles, and for a moment there was silence.

You know how authors describe silence as soft, still, delicate? This was not that kind of silence.

This was the kind of silence could drive a man insane, the kind that made people scream, the kind that ached, the kind that made Katsuki think, for the first time, that Dabi might just actually kill him.

And in the silence, Katsuki's eyes couldn't help but wander, looking up past Dabi's scars and into his eyes.

Then Dabi lunged at him.

There it was. The fuck-up that sent Dabi over the fucking edge.

"That wasn't your call to make, dipshit!" Dabi voiced, his rage flaring up in his fists.

The smell of burning flesh rose to Katsuki's nose, repulsively strong. The skin around Dabi's fingertips appears angry red, purple, and small, horrifying spots of black at the very edge.

"Dabi, you're hurting yourself," Katsuki interjected, avoiding yet another punch. He refused to hit back. It wasn't right. He deserved everything Dabi was about to throw at him.

They had made a plan, a deal of sorts, yet Katsuki had managed to fuck up. He always did, huh? He seemed to have a talent or skill for that.

A scowl on his face, Dabi swung his right fist. This time is hit Katsuki square in the jaw, leaving behind red burn marks in the shape of a fist.