Rock My World - DabiHawks

Pretty Vacant

A/N: sorry in advance, but this is not the worst of it ^3^

POV TOUYA

Nobody has to know.

As I step out of the church, finally done with that stupid AA meeting, I spot Aizawa already waiting outside, his two kids settled in the car. The air is heavy with the scent of exhaust fumes mingling with the distant aroma of freshly bloomed flowers. I hate it. Still, I make a mental note to rein in my language and try my best not to be a cunt, knowing the children are present.

But as I approach, I notice the front seat is already taken by one of those damn kids. Aizawa wears a shit-eating grin, sitting behind the wheel, a clear indication that he has no intention of moving the kid to the back.

With an irritated sigh, I pull open the backseat door, squeezing my long ass legs into the cramped space. I settle beside Aizawa's daughter, her ballet uniform still radiating the scent of freshly laundered fabric softener. Lavender, which I'm allergic to. Of-fucking-course.

Aizawa meets my eyes through the rearview mirror, a glint of mischief dancing in his stupid gaze, an unspoken invitation to spar. "So?" the bartender inquires, his voice brimming with playful curiosity. "How'd it go?"

I roll my eyes, the remnants of unease from the meeting still lingering. I feel sick, and I don't have enough energy to lie. "Fucking sucked," I mutter, the words laden with a bitter tang.

My response draws a frown from the bartender's daughter. "No potty mouth, mister! Or Papa Mikey will put you in time-out!"

A surge of annoyance prickles my skin, the sensation like to tiny needles digging into my flesh. "Time-out is for babies," I retort. I want to be playful, but I'm pissed off from the meeting, so my voice is edged with defiance. "I do whatever the fuck I want."

"Yeah, I know," Eri snaps, her frustration evident. "That's why you're going in time-out. Because you're a bad baby. Dadzawa, put Scribbles in time-out!"

Aizawa laughs, gently maneuvering the steering wheel as we turn onto the bustling main road. "Did you call him Scribbles?" he chuckles. "His name is Dabi. You remember Dabi, don't you?"

Eri pouts. "He's got scribbles all over him so his name is Scribbles."

"Fair enough," Aizawa concedes, a spark of amusement flickering in his eyes. "Anyway, Dabi? This is Kirishima, a student of mine. Kirishima, that scumbag in the backseat is Dabi--"

"From the LOV?" Kirishima interjects, his eyes shining with excitement. "Are you serious?"

"Don't flatter him," Aizawa scoffs. "His ego is big enough as it is."

"I'm a huge fan, man!" Kirishima exclaims, unable to contain his enthusiasm. "My friend Bakugou is the one who got me into punk music not that long ago, but so far, you guys are my favorite. You see, I'm a singer, and my friends and I are planning on starting a band. Me and Jirou will handle the vocals, Bakugou on drums, Kaminari and Tokoyami on guitar, Sero on bass, and Mina and Shinsou writing the music—"

"If you keep blabbing on you're gonna put me to sleep, kid," I grumble out without thinking, my irritation seeping into my tone. "I don't care about your dumb high school band."

Kirishima falls silent, his head bowing in embarrassment and disappointment. And just because the world loves me so much, Aizawa switches from instigator to protective dad, his grip on the steering wheel tightening like a vice.

"Don't be an ass, Dabi!" he snaps, his voice laced with anger. "Kirishima is telling you he admires your music and you're being a scumbag! How the hell are you gonna be a dad if you can't be nice to a kid that actually enjoys your existence? We're all holding out for you and trusting that you'll be a better person for Keigo, for yourself, and for this kid on the way. Can you be at least a little considerate of other people's feelings?"