Burn me then you turn me (On Hold)

Chapter 8

Umm... Thanks?

<Dabi's POV>

I stare at the hero before me as he carefully inspects my drawing. He had been gazing at it for a while and I knew he recognized who it was by now. Shit of course he did he would be an idiot not to have. Shigaraki has had his mind set on this class since day one. I'd be concerned if Aizawa didn't know who he was. I wonder what he thinks of us? Sure we're villains but we're human too, well most of us. We were all innocent kids once too, that has to count for something right? Ah, who am I kidding? Heroes care about nothing but climbing their way to the top and getting their six seconds of fame.

After inspecting my drawing for a few more moments he meets my gaze, staring at me as though he was deep in thought but there was also something different there as well. I could have almost mistaken it to have been... pity. Fuck I have gone insane, maybe that fire did more than burn my tear ducts that night. However, despite all my best efforts not to I can't help but wonder if people DO look past the violence and killing. Past all the villainry and acts of coldheartedness. I wonder if they try to see the real us, or at least the people we used to be, the scared little boys and girls (and lizards) that used to cry for help every night. Reaching out for something to save their broken souls. I wonder if people looked deep down, like really deep, they would see that we are all not that much different from them in a way.

Ha holy shit. That just got way too fucking sentimental way too quickly for my liking. Let's backtrack that and skip the in-my-head therapy session. Who the fuck am I kidding? Why on earth would anybody look at us as anything other than disgusting villains who get off on hurting others? As anything other than the week-old dog shit they try to desperately scrape off their shoes.

I'm snapped back into reality by a hand being outstretched in front of me, a very slight nonvoluntary flinch slips out as I look up to see Aizawa speaking to me. What the fuck is wrong with me? Why would I let myself get so distracted around a hero?

<End of Dabi's POV>

<Aizawa's POV>

I look down at the scarred boy in front of me curiously as I see him get lost in his thoughts. A sad and twisted scowl upon his face. His eyebrows draw done more and more as his thoughts go on. After a while of studying the young man's facial expressions change I outstretch my hand, offering him help up. He shifts away slightly in what I almost could have sworn was the beginning of a flinch but honestly, I'm so tired that I wouldn't put it past my brain to make it up. My hand is still in front of his face expectantly I watch him look at it confused then turn to face me with a raised eyebrow.

"Are you going to take my hand and stand up or shall I just drag you instead?" He stares at me in disbelief and something else, something I can't quite put my finger on though. Hesitantly he reaches for my hand and grasps it, lifting himself up. His hands, much to my surprise, were not crusty or rough at all like I had been expecting. Had it not been for the cool metal of the staples I would believe that I had made the scarred skin up in my head but as I look down I confirm that I had not. His hands are indeed scarred another one of life's mysteries I guess.

He stands up and we begin to walk towards the door across from us but before we go inside I place my hand on his shoulder to stop him. He looks over his shoulder expectantly with a 'hmm' sound as if to say what the fuck do I want?

"I ask you to please take it easy in there. I'll be honest most are terrified and had to be convinced to give you a chance so don't give them a reason to need to give you a second." He doesn't look surprised by the statement at all and why would he? I'm sure this is the reaction he expected from them.