Deja Vu| Dabihawks Book

Training and Dreams

(I'm finally writing this again! I'm sorry that I'm a month late than what I said, but I've been having a lot problems when it comes to motivation for just about anything, and I've been feeling a lot of stress and anxiety, along with no motivation, so please be patient. But now, I am going to try a little harder to update. I was, at first, updating to another fanfic too, but now it's just this one. Anyway...)

Hawk's POV

I landed hard onto the pristine, white floor, as I flipped around to look at my attacker. Mirko ran at me, propelling herself with her legs, and reeling her leg back as she flew at me. I waited until she was almost at me before I ran forward and slid down, underneath her. I reached up as she was over me, and grabbed her ankle, causing her to slam onto the ground.

I hopped back up, turning again, to face her. I gripped my feather sword tightly, pointing it at her and bent my knees before sprinting toward her. I shot myself in the air, just below the high ceiling, and shooting myeslf at her, pointing the sword at her, and right before she dodged, I sliced through the air, catching onto the top of her hero uniform, tearing it at the neck, just slightly.

Mirko lifted her leg and slammed her knee into me, right before I landed, causing me to trip, and land on my back. I quickly got up, shot myself back. Mirko ran back to the far wall, jumping onto it, grabbing onto the sill of the slightly open window, and proppelling herself forward, toward me. She angled herself so her foot was sticking out at me, and before I could dodge, she slammed into me, knocking me down again. He put her knee on my chest, and her other foot next to my head, pinning me.

Sweat glistened from her forehead, and her hair hung low, near my face, as she looked down at me. "I win. You're getting rusty, Hawks."

I sighed and she got off of me right before I got up as well. I walked over to the bench that was positioned against the wall, grabbing my rag, and wiping the sweat from my forehead. I then grabbed my water bottle and chugged some of it. Mirko grabbed her phone from off the bench and checked her notifications. She looked up at me and stepped back. "They need me at the agency, so I'll be off."

I nodded at her, substituting a wave, and told her my farewells. When she walked out, I grabbed my stuff and went into the locker room, right next to the training room. I got ready to take a shower so I could go home. At least, if I decided to go home at all.

Dabi's POV

"Stop it! Don't hurt him! He didn't do anything!" Fuyumi screamed for dad to stop hitting me. I cried and covered my head as he hit me over and over and over again. He wouldn't stop. Honestly, it hurt less and less the more he did it. Maybe I was becoming used to it. But eventually, he stopped. I uncovered my face to see what happened. He had grabbed Fuyumi's wrist and throwing her and slamming her against the wall before turning back to me.

I had the horrible idea to run. And so I did. I got up, slightly tripping over my own feet. I climbed over the couch, slamming down onto my feet on the other side, and sprinted away. I ran down the long corridor, hoping that I could make it. His loud, booming footsteps followed behind me. I ran and ran, tears welling up in my eyes.

Please. Please let me survive this. I ran to my parents' room, hoping my mom could save me. I opened the door and ran inside, only to stop. I wasn't in my house anymore. The room in front of me was like a children's hospital. I saw myself, but older, laying in a hospital bed. There was a paper next to me that said, 'Get better soon, Sleepyhead'. The walls were covered with childish decorations. Like a tree, and checkered flooring. There was a drawing of a butterfly on the wall, and hung up pictures. I turned around only to see that what I had come through was double doors, and behind that was a hallway with similar walls. Bunnies, another tree, and a billboard with pinned stuff hung up on the wall in the hallway.

I slowly walked over to my sleeping figure. Except I didn't look like I was sleeping. I didn't look like I had been awake in a long time. It was either that, or I knew I hadn't been awake in a while. I reached forward to touch my own face. My scars had gotten worse. It was like I was stitched together.

And then my eyes opened, only for black pools to be on the other side of the eyelids, staring back at me. My mouth opened, the skin, peeling away from where it had been stitched together. I looked like a dead person being put together for a funeral. I stepped back as my older self sat up and looked at me, blood spilling out of my mouth. Then he started screaming something. The blood spilling faster, and sprayed forward, getting everywhere as he yelled, "FATHER!"

My eyes widened and it took me a few seconds to realize that it had been a dream. Only a dream. My heart was pounding. I realized where I was. I had crashed at Twice's apartment. I sat up, wiping the sleep from my eyes before I got up so I could leave. Twice must've already been out. But even as I tried to distract myself, I couldn't stop thinking about the fact that I could still feel my father beating me, even if I couldn't feel anything anymore. It's like phantom pain. I got too used to it.