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billie-rotten · 2 years ago

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Go Away

Featuring: Tomura Shigaraki. Touya Todoroki - Dabi. Himiko Toga. Jin Bubaigawara - Twice. Gender Neutral Reader

Rated R: Intended for mature audiences only. Reader discretion is advised.

Contains: Disrespect to the readers. Arguments. Toxic behavior. Dissociative disorder issues.

Author's Note: All characters are written to be older than 21 years of age.

| Part 1 |

You’d gone into his office. Shigaraki hadn’t eaten in days. Every offer was turned down. He just sat at his desk for hours at a time, only getting up to use the bathroom. He even slept there, curled in a ball with his head resting on the desk. You brought him some fast food, something you didn’t think he could turn down.��

“Tomura?” you called, pushing the door open. You found him with the lights off, wide-eyed, staring at the computer screen and clicking away. “I brought you something to eat,” you offered. “I have a burger and nuggets. You can pick one, and I’ll take the other.”

“I’m not hungry,” he said, never even looking away from his computer monitor. His pale face and bloodshot eyes were illuminated by the blue glow, his eyes much puffier than they had been several days ago.

You sighed, exasperated. Did he really not feel hungry? Was he just angry? Hyperfixated? Had you done something wrong? “Please just try to eat something,” you pleaded. “At least come sit with me for a minute, or come shower with me. You haven’t been out of this room in days, except for taking pee breaks.”

“Because I haven’t made progress,” he grumbled. Since you came in, you don’t think you’ve seen him even blink. “I have to find a way… Make a plan… Something!” He was rambling at this point, words slurred and shoulders slouching.

“I just think maybe if you took a break–”

“I don’t need a break, Y/N,” Tomura snapped, finally turning his face toward you. He was more pale than he had been the last time you saw him.

“How do you know?” you asked. He looked astonished at the notion that he might be wrong. “If you take a break, get some rest, you can come back to it with a clear head.”

“What the hell do you know?” he rolled his eyes.

“I know that we’ve been through this multiple times,” you said. “And every single time you step away for a day or two, you make progress within an hour when you go back to it.”

“Would you just shut up?” he said. “I didn’t ask for your opinion. I don’t need your advice. What I need is to actually get some work done.”

“So why haven’t you done it yet?” you asked. “If none of my advice is helpful, what’s stopping you?”

“Oh, I don’t know, Y/N” he mocked. “Maybe if you weren’t constantly breathing down my neck, I could actually get something done! You come in here every fucking day. Just leave me alone for fuck’s sake!”

You were taken aback. Yes, he could be mean and cruel. He could throw tantrums. He could declare his hatred for the rest of the world fifteen times a day. But Shigaraki had never turned that aggression or cruelty or hatred toward you. Maybe you really had done something wrong. “Oh,” you said, trying to keep a strong face until you could leave the room. “I’ll just leave the food here then,” you said, setting the food on the edge of his desk. “I’ll give you some space.” You left the room and shut the door behind you, and you crawled into bed alone.

Shit, he thought. That wasn’t what he wanted.

Maybe ten minutes later, you heard the door open, and you felt the bed dip under the weight of your boyfriend. You threw the covers off of you and started to rush into the hallway. If he needed space you could do that. You just wish you had known sooner. “Y/N,” he called after you, getting up and following you. You kept walking. “Y/N,” he said again, reaching out to you and grabbing you by the arm. He stooped to look into your eyes. “I’m sorry,” he said.

You couldn’t find any words to say.

“Don’t give me space,” he demanded. “I need you.”

“But you said–”

“I didn’t mean it,” he cut you off. “I want you to smother me. I love you, and I need you to suffocate me. I don’t know why I said that. Please.”

You looked at him, your toughened expression finally falling. He pulled you into his chest and rested his head on your shoulder. His hands rested gently around your waist, hands balled into fists around pieces of your shirt, as if you were somehow going to wriggle away from him at any second. But you weren’t. You didn’t want to. You wanted to smother him in every ounce of love that you could offer. And that was exactly what he needed.

You hadn’t seen your boyfriend in days. He had probably been home when you weren’t around, or maybe when you were asleep. But he was always gone when you woke up or when you came home from work. You tried calling, but he sent you to voicemail several times in a row. So you gave up.

Until eventually, Dabi called you. “Hey,” he said when you finally picked up. “I’ll be home soon.” His nonchalance made your blood boil. How can Dabi just disappear for days with no contact and then just waltz back in the door and pretend like nothing happened?

“Where the hell have you been?” you asked, eyebrows pinching together.

You could practically hear the eyeroll from the other end of the phone. “Just needed some space, doll. You understand, right?”

“Whatever,” you responded. You hung up the phone and started to brace yourself for his arrival. But then you thought, you know what? If he wants space, why don’t you give him a taste of his own medicine? You rushed into your bedroom and started packing a bag, just enough for a couple of days at a friend’s apartment uptown. You were just putting the last of your things in the bag when you heard the apartment door click shut.

“Babe?” Dabi called through the house, his raspy voice not quite loud enough to echo. He walked down the hallway, toward the bedroom light that bled into the hallway. He saw you starting to zip up your bag. “What are you doing?” he asked, leaning against the door frame.

You shrugged. “You shouldn’t feel like you need space in your own home,” you answered plainly. “It’s only fair.” You slung your backpack over your shoulder and started to push past him.

Dabi was at a loss for words. You had always been fiery and petty, especially when he fucked up. But how was he supposed to fix it this time?

You went into the bathroom and dug around for one last thing, and then you could take the train to your friend’s place. When you turned around to leave the bathroom this time, though, Dabi was blocking the doorway. “You at least gonna tell me where you’re goin’?” he asked.

“Were you?” you countered, staring him down. He didn’t have anything to say. If he’d told you where he was, you would have just come and found him. He guessed he didn’t technically know that, though. “That’s what I thought. Now move out of my way.”

“No,” he argued. “Not until you tell me what’s going on.”

“You’re an ass,” you shouted. “That’s what’s going on. And you don’t even care that you’re an ass because you’re too busy running away from me and all the rest of your problems, doing God knows what with God knows who. You don’t even have time to let me know that you’re alive, let alone wonder if what you do affects me at all.”

“So you’re mad because I didn’t talk to you for a day or two?” he asked.

“Try nine days,” you corrected him, starting to shout. You even pulled up your call and text logs on your phone to show him his last messages. “Nine days, Touya. No calls. No texts. No fucking smoke signals or messenger pigeons or anything. And when I ask what’s up, you tell me that you ‘needed space?’”

“Yeah?” he said. “So what?”

“So it sounds more to me like you don’t wanna be around me at all!” you yelled. “If you need more than a week without me, without so much as a goddamn text message, do you even want me to be in your life?”

He was silent. Not because you were right. But because he couldn’t believe you really thought that. Dabi knew he didn’t always say it the right way. But you were always what he needed, what he wanted. He loved you more than anything. Dabi thought you could feel it in his touch, in the way he looked at you. At least, he hoped you could. Because he didn’t have the words to tell you like a normal person could.

“That’s what I thought,” you said. “Now move out of my way.”

He moved out of the doorway to let you pass. You got nearly to the door before you heard a, “Please stay,” coming from the man behind you. You stopped before you could open the door. He couldn’t explain why he was gone so long. He just wandered around the city, going to the base, to talk to Shigaraki, to commit small petty crimes, anything he could think of to distract himself from the impending breakdown. When it didn’t come, though, he came home. And now, here he was, wanting to tell you everything but not having the right words.

You felt his thin but muscular arms wrap around your waist. Dabi’s head rested on your shoulder, face buried in your neck. “I need you,” he said lowly. “I can’t tell you how badly I need you.”

You could feel the way his weight rested on you, the way his hands shook. You wondered when he last ate, when he last slept. You turned around in his grip, and you looked at him in his electric blue eyes. “Tell me where you’ve been,” you demanded. If he was going to be honest with you, you’d unpack your bag right then.

And he was. He told you how he had thoughts of hurting himself, and how he didn’t want you to think he was crazy. Dabi thought that, if he did something to himself, he didn’t want you to have to witness it. He told you how he went to the base at first, thinking there might be work to do. But there wasn’t. He told you how he went to Shigaraki, who offered him next to no help. After that, he told you he wandered around the city, sleeping sat up in alleyways. He told you how he tried to steal something small from a market to have something to eat, but then he heard your voice, telling him how stupid he is for stealing when he doesn’t have to. So he came home. “I had no idea how long it had been,” he swore.

Coming down from your anger, you knew he was sincere. “So you don’t want space?” you asked, for clarification.

“Fuck, no,” he said, almost in a whisper. “Not from you.”

And that was as close to an apology as you knew you would get from him.

You felt so incredibly guilty.

It was a misunderstanding. You knew that. But you shouldn’t have said what you said. Toga was telling you a story about the mission she had just returned from, about how she got to drink tons of the blood she so coveted. She was so happy and excited, as if she had been starved for years of her life. You curled up your nose and teased, “Ew!” You were smiling and laughing, and she was too.

“It wasn’t gross, though!” Toga argued with a big smile, sitting on your lap. “It was sooooooo much fun!”

Toga went on to tell you about how she was the star of the show, how she pretty much saved the day. “I can’t wait to go out again!” she cheered to herself, excited hands balled into fists at her chest.

You reached for her hands and intertwined your fingers with hers. Toga was so funny when she was excited, and she was excited quite a lot. You laughed again, squeezing her in a hug around the waist. She hugged you around her head, the only place that her arms would reach the way she was sitting in your lap. With your lips pressed against her cheek, you teased, “Okay, you little psycho.”

Toga was taken aback. You didn’t mean it. She knew that. You said it all the time and never meant it. In fact, she recently started taking that sort of thing as a compliment. But for some reason, this time, it stung. She knew you were joking. You had to be, right? You loved her, right? You didn’t really mean that, right?

“You think I’m crazy?” she asked, much quieter than before.

“I mean, a little, yeah,” you answered with a shrug, a big smile still spread across your face. She turned her face away from yours. You stroked her cheek with your thumb. “I didn’t mean it like that, my love,” you said.

Toga just got up and started walking to the bedroom that you shared and shut the door. You got up and followed her. “Toga,” you called through the closed door. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said that.”

“Go away!” she shouted. “Just leave me alone.”

You sighed. She was right to be angry. It was insensitive, and you shouldn’t say that kind of thing to someone you love. You pressed your back against the wall in the hallway, and you sunk down to the floor. You heard Toga cry quietly behind the door, and your heart melted into a puddle.

You’d been sitting there for nearly thirty minutes, stewing. In your head, you practiced what to say when she finally opened the door. You didn’t mean to insult her. She was weird and crazy in the best way that a person could be weird or crazy. When Himiko finally opened the door, you scrambled to your feet to meet her at eye level. She looked at you in silence for a minute. “Himiko,” you said. “I’m so sorry.”

“You think I’m crazy,” she said, not ready to accept your apology yet.

“I absolutely do!” you said. You watched her face drop again, and she started to pull away from you. You caught her hand just in time to keep her from walking away. You had to fix this now. “But only because you aren’t like any other person I’ve met or heard of in my entire life.” She finally looked up at you for more explanation.

“You’re genuinely passionate. You fight for what you believe is right, and you’ll do anything to get to your goals,” you explained. You held Toga’s face again, resting your forehead against hers. “You’re brave, more brave than a lot of these heroes that are out here. Because you’re willing to do things that are gross and scary to other people in order to make the world better. And if that involves drinking blood and loving it, then so be it. I only think you’re crazy because I could never do what you do.”

Her hands, halfway covered in her sweater sleeves, cupped your face. She leaned to connect her lips to yours. You could feel the tears still falling down her cheeks, but they weren’t the same now. You felt her lips stretch into a smile against yours, and you smiled back.

“Toga?” you asked. She opened her eyes and looked at you. “Don’t ever stop being yourself. Not for me, not for anyone. Promise?”

She wiped the salt from her cheeks. “Promise.”

It had been far too long since you’d seen Twice. You knew that he felt more comfortable, more stable, with you around. But mission after mission after mission came up, keeping you apart.

You waited for Jin to call you, to ask to come over, or for you to come see him where he lived. You couldn’t call him. What if he was on another mission? You could ruin everything. You could get him killed.

But you had to check on him. You had to know if he was okay. So you started walking to his apartment, a run down building a few blocks from yours. When you got there, you didn’t see any lights on through his windows. But that didn’t mean anything. You walked up the stairs to his door, and you let yourself in with the key he had given you.

“Jin?” you called quietly through the house. The lights were still all off. You turned on a lamp to find him sitting on his bed, curled in a ball. He was looking straight ahead, eyes bloodshot, tugging at his hair. You could smell his body odor from where you stood. You wondered how long he had been sitting there, if things had really gotten this bad.

You walked toward him and knelt by his side. He was mumbling some things to himself, to his other half. “Jin, honey,” you called to him. You started to reach for him, your fingertips brushing along is shoulder.

“Leave me alone!” he growled at you, snapping his head in your direction.

Startled, you jerked your hand away from him. “I’m not leaving,” you said, dropping your hand to your side.

“And why the hell not?” he asked, voice deep and menacing. You only blinked in response, sitting on the floor in front of him with your legs crossed. “Get the hell out of here. It isn’t like you’re good for anything.”

Ouch. That one stung.

“I love you,” you said. That was all. You couldn’t say anything else. You couldn’t figure out how to get along with his other side.

“I love you, too,” Jin said to you, voice now light. His eyes relaxed, and he finally came to for just a minute. You almost breathed a sigh of relief until you heard, “I said go away!” in that same mean voice again.

You closed your eyes and breathed again. You had to remind yourself that he didn’t really want you to go away. That was his clone talking. It wasn’t him. “Can’t you fucking listen?” he said again. “I don’t need you here. Go the fuck away!”

“Fine!” you said, fed up at this point. “You want me to leave?” You started to get up and walk toward the door.

“No!” you heard Jin say behind you. You turned around and looked at him, seeing how his shoulders were tensed up and how he was breathing heavily. “Please,” he begged. “Please don’t leave me.”

You hurried toward him again and sat next to him on the bed. You gathered him in your arms, and he buried his face in your chest. “Don’t go,” he pleaded, beginning to sob.

“I’m not,” you reassured him. “I’m here. I promise.” You tangled your fingers in his messy blonde hair, and you pressed your cheek against his forehead. “Come here,” you beckoned, moving back to the pillows. “Come lay down with me, relax a minute,” you requested.

You opened your arms for him. He laid down next to you and wrapped an arm around your waist. You rested a hand on his head and stroked his hair, letting him cry and hearing his breathing slowly steady. “Do you wanna talk about it?” you asked.

You felt him swallow heavily. “I’ve been here by myself for days,” he sniffled. “He wouldn’t let me do anything. So I’ve just been sitting here screaming at him, him screaming at me.”

“Sweetheart, why didn’t you call me?” you asked.

“He wouldn’t let me!” he said. “He kept saying that we didn’t need you. But I do. I do need you. Please don’t go.” He went right back to sobbing into your shoulder.

You started to rub his back, hand brushing against his tank top, shushing him and kissing his head once in a while. “It’s okay,” you promised. “I’m not leaving. You’re okay.”

It took almost a half an hour for him to calm down, the shoulder of your shirt soaked in his salty tears. “Now. Since you’ve been stuck in this spot for days, let’s get you taken care of,” you offered. “Let’s get a shower.”

He groaned at the prospect of moving. “I don’t need one,” he tried to convince you.

“Honey,” you said. “I love you so much. But you stink.”

He laughed at you for that one. Finally, you could start putting him back together.