Disdain [Dabi x Reader]

II

Touya's recovery was going... rather smoothly for his condition. (Y/n) had to pass by the pharmacy and get a whole bag of painkillers to help ease the boy's pain. They took it upon themself to take care of the blue-eyed child until they could figure out where he came from. (Which was quite the easy feat). They'd return him to his family once he could walk properly. His family would be thrilled to see him again, even if he was damaged, he was still in one piece.

But for now, they had to help Touya survive his rather pathetic state. Feed him, hydrate him, help him to the bathroom. While those tasks seem to pale against the average adult's workload in this economy, it's not the most enjoyable. On the other hand, they still had their underground work to take care of.

Touya considered himself very down-to-earth with most things, compared to his peers at the very least. That exludes his father or heroism or his quirk, but regardless, despite knowing close to nothing of his whereabouts and this mysterious individual taking a suspicious amount of care of him, panic does far from plague him. It hardly grazes him, if anything.

Late at night, when Touya was unable to sleep, (Y/n) sat next to his temporary bed and told him long tales. They figured he was about eleven years old, and telling him giddy, all-rainbows stories would certainly bore him, so they told stories about their day, who they met, what they ran across, and what they accomplished, and their days were nothing close to boring. Even so, they did their best to hide their gruesome crimes, they didn't want to freak out the already traumatized kid.

Touya started to wonder what their caregiver was really like. With the stories they tell him, their life seemed quite intense. He had a great deal of questions he wanted to ask them, sadly, he had no way of asking them.

Slowly but surely, the pain began ebbing away, it grew easier for Touya to move. At first, he was able to lift his hand and swallow down the painkillers on his own. Then, he could sit up on his bed without any assistance. A few weeks after that, he was fit to walk again. He walked around the house and took care of it while (Y/n) was out doing their work.

It wasn't something (Y/n) had requested of him. It was almost second nature. He had to admit, he wasn't sure what he was doing half the time, partially because he'd never been one to do many chores back at his house, and partly because his caretaker's lifestyle was... rural. Not very modern, naturally, considering the setting and accessibility to most things.

"Mx." his husky voice called. His voice sounded like it's been dragged harshly against a shredder. The clicking of glass dishes quietened, the running water freely trailing down the hand that clasped the dirtied plate. They whipped their head around, a bemused expression painting their face.

"You can speak again?" A sloppy smile spread across their features. They closed the tab of water and dried their hand with a towel.

"Yeah, barely-" Loud, scrapping coughs escaped his throat. (Y/n) filled a cup with water and handed it to him once his fit of coughs had ended.

"Hardly, indeed." They commented as Touya chugged down the cup of water.

(Y/n) advised Touya to speak continuously from now on, so he could go back to the habit of speaking without his throat closing up. And Touya obliged, even if it was somewhat embarrassing to talk to himself. While they were away from home, Touya spoke to himself while toggling with trinkets around the house, remarking on some things he liked about the place, and calling out the names of any animal or insect he saw out the window.

In a matter of few days, he had reclaimed his original voice.

(Y/n) and Touya sat on the small dinner table, before them was a bowl of white rice and fish on the side. (Y/n) glanced briefly at Touya, he was eating unusually fast. Normally he'd eat slowly in order to minimize the pain in his jaw, but they supposed he was feeling reckless today. He grimaced in pain every time his chopsticks would hit his lower lips a little too hard.

"I wanna ask you something!" He exclaimed and placed his empty bowl down. They stared up at him, quite startled by his enthusiastic demeanor.

"Go ahead." They replied, food still stuffed in the sides of their cheeks.

"What's your name?" He leaned forward. And again, they snapped their head up with a puzzled look.

"Did I never tell you?" He shook his head in response. They hummed and looked down at their plate,

"Surely I... sorry, must've slipped my mind. (L/n) (Y/n)." They took another bite of their food, eyes wearily studying his features. They mentally sighed in relief at his lack of reaction.

'ah, so he hasn't heard. A relief.'

"(L/n-"

"Just call me (Y/n)." They cracked a small smile.