Ordinary - (Dabi x OC)

Her

TRIGGER WARNING: this chapter contains depictions of abuse, I.V. needles, alcoholism, and violence. Please read at your own discretion. These things are mentioned for the plot of the story, and only when absolutely necessary.

A/N: pay close attention to the accents in the dialogue. It's part of Midas' history. He will sound different in this chapter than how we know him currently, and there's a reason for it.

Takuto (Midas) POV:

~ Thirty-three years ago ~

My lungs burned as I ran up the grassy hill, desperately trying to make it to the very top before the sun skated up over the horizon.

Sunrise was always my favorite time of day. My body was less weary. My stomach was less hungry, and these were the times I could pretend I was just a little cleaner and more refreshed.

Whether it was true or not didn't matter. It's all about mindset.

If you believe the stale bread you ate last night was a steak dinner, it tasted just a little better. If you pretended the icy floor you slept on was a bed made of silk and lavender, well sometimes, you could smell the sprigs of fragrance dancing along your nostrils. Just sometimes.

Or, that's what I've heard. Personally, I find it a little hard to be true.

Regardless, my mindset always refreshed itself first thing in the morning. After spending twenty three out of twenty four hours during the day dwindling it down to the very last inch, it always recharged itself in my sleep in the form of dreams.

More days than not, I had the ability to wake up with a half smile on my face and smell the roses that didn't really exist. Not where I came from anyways.

I never had much to dream about. Where I came from, it was hard to imagine what classified as 'dreams.' So, instead, I'd just dream of the next morning. This moment right here where I get to run in the dawn breeze and smell the flowers.

These were the only times I felt happy. Free.

And, while running to the purple hyacinth tree at the top of the hill always required me getting up two hours earlier than normal, and while it added to the exhausting foot trek that was my job, there still wasn't ever a day that went by where I skipped it.

I had to get those flowers.

My blonde hair fluttered in the morning wind as I got closer to the tree, and in that moment, I'd never been so thankful to be alive.

Getting to feel the breeze-getting to breathe clean air and be outside was a privilege that people took for granted. And this was my one time of the day to feel it.

In the field of flowers and grass, my body glided through like I was swimming through a soft pool of water. The houses of the rich neighborhoods dusted the horizon, but still they were far enough away to respect the quaintness of the field. It was just me, and the birds, and the flowers. It felt just like my dreams.

A soft chuckle escaped me once my dirt caked fingers finally touched the healthy bark of the tree, hunching over on my hands and knees to catch my breath.

My lungs rattled deep in their core, dusty with soot and tainted with pollution. The fresh air wasn't a powerful enough medicine to heal my body and I knew that, but at least it healed my spirit.