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Dabi should’ve burned Twice. He was just trying to enjoy his Saturday surrounded by a bunch of criminally insane villains when Toga needed supplies. In his sleep deprived mind, Dabi thought that the little psycho was talking about needles and knives. She had looked around before violently whispering to him, “Tampons.” Goddammit. “Why can’t Mr. Compress go? No one knows what the fuck he looks like.” But the illusionist just turned his mask towards Dabi, and the fire user could’ve sworn that there was a smirk under that stupid fucking mask.
“Why do I have to go?” He asked loudly, and Shigaraki rolled his eyes. “Just go and get whatever she needs.” Dabi sighed before putting on his surgical mask and pulling up his hood, slamming the door behind him.
.
Fuck this. Dabi stood under the fluorescent lights, glaring at the ‘Feminine Hygiene’ products as if they had committed some sort of vendetta against him. Which they did, considering that he was losing a good part of his Saturday doing nothing except getting drunk (and he was also planning on getting high, but now it wouldn’t happen). Fuck.
First of all, why the hell were these so expensive. Dabi was gonna steal them anyways, but when did cotton and plastic cost this much? Toga didn’t even tell him what kind she wanted. For this many brands they had to be different, right? And also, what the ever loving fuck what a menstrual cup? Never mind, he didn’t wanna know. Dabi considered having a cigarette in the middle of the store, but he would get kicked out and would have to return to Toga empty handed.
That option would end in pain.
Dabi spent fifteen minutes trying to figure out what different types of flow was and how that factored into anything when someone derailed his train of thought. “Do you need help?” He was so startled that he dropped the box he’d been looking at. Dabi placed it on the shelf before looking at the woman.
She was older, probably in her thirties or forties. She had a kind face, and he could tell that she had children if the juice boxes in her basket were anything to go off of. The woman didn’t seem to notice the scars under his eyes, but his hood was low enough to where it didn’t really matter that much. Besides, who would believe that the villain Dabi was shopping for tampons?
“Yeah.” He said, rubbing his neck almost sheepishly. Maybe she’d help and not call the cops on him. “Let me guess, your sister?” Dabi nodded, thinking to himself. Toga could technically be his sister, and she had made some stupid comment about him having an older brother gene. “I could tell. You looked lost.” She took the basket out of his hands and studied the boxes before picking one that Dabi glanced at before.
She led him around the store, asking questions about his ‘sister’. “How old is she?” Dabi had to think. Toga was a teen, but he didn’t really know. “She just turned sixteen.” He replied, realizing that it didn’t matter either way, he’d never see her again. “She must be a lovely girl.” Dabi didn’t think that murdering people and being obsessed with blood was lovely, but then again; he hadn’t known many people before the League.
Dabi hadn’t been paying attention to what she had been putting in the basket, just following her around like a lost puppy. He kept making things up about Toga; that she was going to a good high school, that she wanted to become a teacher (God, if she was actually around children…), and a whole bunch of other bullshit.
“She must be a lucky girl to have a brother like you.” Dabi almost stopped dead in his tracks. “That’s not true.” She turned to him, and Dabi was transported back in time. His own mother used to give him that look, a look that said “You’re an idiot.” Instead, she said, “Most brothers wouldn’t have taken the time to do this. It shows you care.”
“I didn’t wanna come.” He retorts, and the woman sighs; exasperated. “But here you are. Probably means you care even more, coming even though you don’t want to.” He hadn’t thought of that. Dabi didn’t like caring about others, he preferred to keep them at arm’s length. But the League… They were different. They were loud and annoying, but Dabi knew he’d always belong with them. All of them were freaks, and the patchwork didn’t phase them anymore. They were better than his own family.
Once she was satisfied with whatever she had bought, she led Dabi towards the checkout. He didn’t realize that he was planning on stealing this shit until the scrawny teenager was already checking everything out. Dabi spied things in the pile that had been his basket. A new hairbrush, some chap stick (maybe Shigaraki would finally be convinced to use it), hair ties, and chocolate.
The woman paid for it, and Dabi was taken aback. He hadn't expected a lot of things today, but especially not that. She led him outside before giving him a motherly hug. Dabi hoped he didn’t set her on fire, but she was fine in the end. Thank God for that.
“You take care of your sister, okay?” She said, and Dabi nodded; thinking that their interaction was at an end. But her small hand had his wrist in a vice grip. Dabi turned around, eyes narrowed.
“Protect her. If something happens, I’ll go to the police after I’ve hunted you down myself.” Her warm brown eyes were now trained on him, and Dabi felt a shiver run down his spine. She let go of his wrist before waving, walking off to her car.
What the fuck had his day turned into?
.
When Dabi got back to the bar, he handed Toga the sack. Shigaraki caught on when Toga pulled out the hairbrush, and chocolate.
“A bag means that you purchased that shit. Dabi, we have no money.” He was angry, but Dabi put up his hands before he was turned to dust. “I mugged someone.” He pulled out a stack of bills that he’d found in his coat pocket, handing them to Kurogiri. Toga squealed happily, looking at the canned goods and other food items. When did that woman find time to slip those in? Maybe she say how thin that Dabi was, and figured his sister was the same way.
Dabi felt Toga hug him tightly, aware that this was the second time someone had hugged him today.
Fuck.