I'm Not Supposed To Like You

F O U R

Trigger Warning, self harm/ verbal abuse. The use of strong words like f*g and other homophobic slurs. These WILL NOT be censored in the story ahead. You have been warned.

Shigaraki's P.O.V

  I woke up with a smile, which was unlike most days. I got up and made my bed carefully, the blanket already half decayed off with holes and marks on the sides. Going to the bathroom, I took a long shower letting the water run over my scarred face and body. Soaking up my pale hair, I wash my body and face before rinsing my hair and getting out, drying myself off. Throwing on my school uniform and red converse, I grabbed my bag and headed towards the door. The cool breeze outside helped my hair dry and my walk to school was calm and nice, the memories of yesterday lingering in my mind. Today would be a good day and maybe I could go back with Dabi after school again. It beat staying at my house alone. Opening the doors to the school, I made it to my locker grabbing my books and placing them in my bag, my locker door being slammed shut by a powerful hand. I yelped surprised looking at none other than Dabi surrounded by a small crowd.

   "Aww. Is the gay boy scared?" He mocked a sympathetic voice, a few snickers being heard. "No. You do this every day I just wasn't prepared for it." I said, zipping my bag and flinging it on my back. "Is it that or is it that all fags are weak babies." He mocked. Even this early in he was annoying me. He couldn't be anymore gentle with his words? I stopped trying to talk back, left without a comeback. "Aw, fags are weak. Just like you." And with that, the entire hall burst into laughter. I felt like breaking, my mood switching from happy to pain and hurt. "Are you gonna cry baby. You're better off somewhere else. What kind of hero are you going to be if you cry at a few insults. You can't take it?" He said again. I've heard worse. I tried not to let it effect me, my hand going to my neck to start scratching.

   One thing I haven't really told anyone was that the scars on my neck are from anxiety. It's like a cope, I just scratch my neck and it eventually bleeds and leaves scars or calms me down but anytime someone asked I just said some excuse about my quirk and they believed me. "The little fag is a baby. Isn't he?" He asked, the growing crowd nodding in agreement. More scratching. He went for my hand to stop the scratching but I pulled it away dissolving a bit of his blazer sleeve no more than an inch. I started scratching harder. He pulled away shocked looking down at the dissolved fabric with a smirk before his face turned to one of fear. "The little freak tried to attack me. He really is a villain after all. I knew it. Little fags like you deserve it too. I can't believe you would hurt someone." He said, his smirk evident in his voice. That's when I felt it.

The silky feeling of blood on my fingertips, scratching more no matter the pain. Something switched in Dabi as his face went from that of mocked joy to a face of pure fear. Real fear. Everyone stopped staring at me as I slipped to the ground with a laugh. I started to giggle as I spoke. "You guys are funny. You all agree I'd be a better villain but you all are hurting someone yourselves. I don't think you realize how much words can hurt people." I got up blood staining my white shirt and hands still trickling from wounds on my neck. "I know I'm a villain. I know I'm a fag. I know I'm a freak. I know it every morning, every night, and every time throughout the day. I guess I just deserve this don't I?" Everyone stayed silent. I pressed my fingers to my neck, my pinkie the only thing keeping me from touching it completely. "If you really cared, you wouldn't have let it get this far." Without a second thought I grabbed my neck with my entire hand letting it dissolve away the skin without even the slightest wince. Everyone stared shocked as I removed my hand, the skins first layer gone a bit of blood dripping more steadily down. "I have nobody. I needed someone. Yet none of you could bring yourself to step up and be hero's. If you can't help one person in need, how will you help millions of others? I'd barely call any one of you hero's."

Without another word, I stormed out of the school, ready to make my way home. The cold blood never stopped trickling sure to leave massive scarring on my neck. I walk on the sidewalk before I heard loud footsteps behind me. I started speeding up taking sharp turns on a back way to my house. I almost made it there before the person spoke up. "That was some speech back there. Are you still bleeding?" Turning around, he towered above me and I scowled before finishing my walk home. "Why are you following me home. Shouldn't you be at school with all the other people who hate me." I said, going inside me house, Dabi sneaking in somehow behind me. "I don't hate you. Quite the opposite in fact." He said, following me to my room. "It really doesn't seem like that." I said, taking off my blazer and under shirt before grabbing a black long sleeve.

"Are you not going to clean your neck?" He asked staring at it. "Why do you care?" I asked in a cold tone, exiting the room. He grabbed my arm. "Because they could get infected." He looked through a few rooms before dragging me to the bathroom and lifting me up, setting me on the counter. Taking off his bag, he opens a little snap box full of medical supplies like Vaseline and bandages. "Why do you have this stuff in your bag?" I asked. "My quirk burns me sometimes. You never know when you need it." Grabbing a rag from the bathroom floor, he wets it under the sink before pressing it to my neck. Wiping the blood away, he doused the rag in hydrogen peroxide and pressed it to my neck. It stung like crazy as I dug my rigid nails into his skin. "No wonder it started bleeding. You need to manage your nails." He said, wiping the last bits of blood away and wrapping my neck in bandages. "There. That's better." He smiled. "Hold out your hands." He started. I held them out in front of me while he dug through his little box. "The first thing that would help would be to take care of your nails. Here." He grabbed my hand gently, carefully snipping my fingernails until they were short and stubby, not sharp like they always seemed to be. "There, that should help." He seemed satisfied with his work. "This doesn't make up for what you did." I said, jumping off the counter. "Then what will?" He asked. "This." I said as I pulled him into a rough kiss. "It's better now." I said wrapping my arms around his middle connecting my hands.

But I knew it wasn't better. Even if he said he didn't mean what he said, it still hurt. No amount of kisses would help the mental pain he caused me today. And I think a part of him knew that. I believed he loved me truly. But another part if me couldn't help the thought that he was using me. That this was all a joke. That, he didn't actually love me like I thought. He was sending so many mixed signals, I couldn't keep up with all of them. So I stayed in his arms, wrapped around him tight, wondering if I should let him go. But I decided not to. Who else would show me love? Who else would care for me the way he seemed to? Did he really mean what he said? I pushed all those thoughts away and buried my face in his chest, hugging him closer, just ever so tight. Ill hold onto him for as long as I can.

I wished I could have let him go sooner.