Serendipity

diconnection

Shouto doesn't remember what time it is.

The sun is out and it is on one side of the sky. He isn't sure what it means. It is cold, which could be a clue of some sort, but it has been cold since Shouto remembers, since he left.

His forearm burns, the way it used to. But there is no wound there, so it must be a dream? Maybe. Shouto isn't sure. He isn't sure of anything, nowadays. Not since he could see and not since he could feel.

"Hey, we've got work to do."

Shouto stands, he is still facing the sun. Again, he thinks, he does not know what time of day it is. He doesn't remember how to tell, even. He remembers his textbooks, something about the west and the east, rising and falling. He doesn't remember much else.

(He remembers Endeavor, he remembers nothing else.)

A skinny hand grabs his wrist gently, pulling him away from the window. He is leaving the sun, he doesn't want to leave the sun. He's been staring at it for hours, waiting for it to leave so he can finally be sure it is nighttime. He closed his eyes a little too long, forgot about watching the sun. He doesn't know how long he slept, or if he slept at all. The sun could've risen and fallen three times over, and Shouto doesn't know it.

So, Shouto does not know what time of day it is.

It is cold outside, his mind repeats.

But, it has been cold since Shouto can remember feeling anything at all.

"Pay attention, Shouto. This is important."

Shouto looks at the sun through the cracked, weathered windows of the warehouse, and he abandons the sight in hesitant favor of looking to Dabi. He is angry, just like always. Dabi lets go of Shouto's wrist, and Shouto sees no burn. He feels the burn, though, stinging and melting on his wrist.

"I'm sending you, Toga, Twice, and Shouto," a raspy voice says. It sounds like whispers in Shouto's head. Shouto moves his hands up to cover his ears, but Dabi pulls his hands back down to his sides.

Holding them there, blue eyes meet Shouto's. They are all too familiar, all too demanding. "Stop. You need to listen, Shouto."

Shouto's arms fall limp, he does not try to cover his ears again. It is unsafe to do so, now, when he is supposed to be listening.

"Shouto," the first voice says. Shouto knows his name, knows that Shigaraki is important. Dabi told him so, he said that Shigaraki is the boss of the group and that Shouto always has to listen to him.

"Shouto, all you have to do is defend Dabi and the rest of them, got it?" Shouto nods, he does not feel his head moving, though. "That means doing whatever it takes to get the heroes away from them."

Dabi groans, "Explain it to him in depth, he won't understand like that."

"Are you questioning something, Dabi?"

"Yea, I am." Dabi goes on to say something, but Shouto looks out the window again, seeing the sun fade. That means that it is night. There is a bright outline of where it is leaving, ducking behind the tall buildings surrounding the warehouse. Shouto turns, as Dabi leaves him to argue with Shigaraki. He faces the sun and steps forward. The resulting light that hits his eyes makes him squint them closed, and he backs away.

Shouto holds his hand out, catching a bit of the sun in his palm. His skin is glowy in the golden lighting, and he squeezes his fist closed. It makes him feel... it makes him feel. Shouto opens his hand back up, and then it is snatched away from him.

A void grows inside of Shouto when Dabi speaks to him, the words enter Shouto's brain but they don't resonate with him. He is disappearing again, starting with the wrist that Dabi is holding, all the way down to his knees, and the old torn sneakers Dabi gave him.  Shouto looks Dabi in the eye. He is angry. Shouto tenses, and the world dissolves, crumbling away at the edges.