Dabi X SpookyQuirk!Reader "A Familiar Face" (mini) Part 12
Another benefit from being a member of the League: knowing how to get around.
A new benefit of being a ghost? Not having to pay, hide, or sneak around. Or even use doors for that matter.
Yeah, fuck those doors.
Unfortunately, no amount of humorous mental glib was going to improve your situation, nor silence the hopeless voice in the back of your head.
Getting around certainly was easier, but you had honestly no idea where to begin looking. They weren't at the base, you knew that. But you weren't close enough with Shigaraki or his 'master' to know about any other secret villainous locations, aside from a warehouse that was raided--what, months ago now?
You wondered how they were doing. How Dabi was doing. From eavesdropping, you'd learned that everyone got away relatively safely; but surely once on the other side of Kurogiri's portal, Dabi would realize you were dead. Dead or something.
You stop along the sidewalk to look down at your transparent palms.
The thoughts that come are bombarding, squeezing in and vying for space against your mortal fears. Some thoughts, rarer than the others, begged to ask the question--why care?
Why care about life?
Why care about the world, when you're here with something so familiar?
…But like always, it's Dabi that pulls you back to the living.
You aren't sure if it was the image of his face in the cemetery before you kissed, or the crack in his voice when he bared himself to you on the roof top of a broken building--but somewhere, you found resolve.
"I want to know you." You say aloud, steeling yourself as you drop your hands and look forward. Something about the memories added a propulsion to your step, and you felt stronger.
You weren't going to accept death until you tried to live again first.
"This sounds like a really good plan." "This plan is insane."
Funny, Dabi thinks, For once, Twice is correct on both accounts.
Kurogiri had warp-gated him and Twice to the cemetery where you had practiced your quirk. He still carried you, despite how his burnt skin had remained unattended to. The others, whom admittedly were in worse shape, had gone on with Shigaraki to his contact so they might receive medical attention.
If Dabi's arms were sore, he couldn't feel it right now.
Among the gravestones though, he eventually lays you down before looking out over the field. Above, the sky turned amber as the sun began to set. Honestly, he figured the time of day had little to do with ghosts--but, he considered it good luck, since it was usually nighttime when you had interacted with them.
Thinking about you starts to chip away at his posture, and he has to swallow a lump in his throat as he rises back from the ground.
"Hey!" He starts, hands cupping his mouth. "Hey, you guys remember me right?"
Twice stares at him, as silence answers. He awkwardly glances down at your body then sharply looks away, feeling a twist in his chest.
"I'm talking to the ghosts of this cemetery!" He continues, "I… I really need your help! This person I was with, you remember?"
"Yeah, the one that could interacted with you! The one that.. Let you throw things at me!" Emotion begins to pitch his voice. His resolve begins to slip, but he doesn't stop.
"They did something earlier, and I think… I think their soul is lost out there. With you guys! And, we need to bring it back--them back--so they can continue their life!"
"Please! Help me find Y/n!"
Twice looks out over the field, following Dabi's gaze as though hoping to see something. But there's nothing, all cold grass, dead leaves, and tall stones. He wants to hope--the urge to scream alongside his friend causing his knuckles to pop as he grips his own arms.
Dabi's heart thuds in his chest and his throat constricts. He tastes blood, and wipes at his mouth as the staples grow weak along his cheeks, weeping red from the freshly burnt skin. He takes a second to calm down, but Twice can hear his breathing as it grows labored.
"Please just.. I can't go looking for 'em. The area is roped off. Near the Central Park." He's quieter now, head bowing. "I know I don't deserve your help. But Y/n does. They've only ever been kind and helpful. It's only because of them I even know you're here." He chokes on it, coughing through wounded and smoke-filled lungs. "They're in this position because they helped Me. I wanna fix it, but I can't without your help...Please."
"Dabi.." Twice's voice, the lower pitched one, echoes concern as he calls out. He'd never seen this level of emotion from the man before--who was always so mellow, so guarded.
Ignoring him, Dabi lifts a hand and produces a small flame in his palm. "You remember me right? You remember this?"
He waves it in the air, blindly, hoping he was showing it to someone.
"I think Y/n's soul is out there, or spirit or--whatever--"
Twice realizes Dabi is repeating himself.
And he would. Dabi would repeat himself. Over and over, until his voice was hoarse, and the sky was obsidian. He plead and bargained for hours--sometimes asking for sign he knew he wouldn't receive. Only you could make the ghosts strong enough to do that.
"Didn't see anything."
You couldn't sigh like you would in your living body, but you still made a noise of frustration as you came to stand next to a fountain in the park. You had wondered allover the area, speaking to other ghosts on the street in the hopes one of them glanced the League and knew where they might be heading.
Without any luck in that regard, all that was left was to walk.
You flinch, stuttering forward without sound and pressing your hands into the water of the fountain to catch yourself. You fall through it, and feel nothing. An oddly positive thing considering the circumstances. Turning to look back, it's..
A familiar face.
Not that you recalled a name for him, but it was the same teenager you had met at the cemetery. All long and lanky, tussled dark hair that hung in his face. There was a serious grunge phase a few decades ago…
"Oh. OH! Hi." You resettle, rising back up to standing and facing them fully. "It's nice seeing you again." Aside from the.. Being dead, maybe, part.
"…" He stares, awkwardly, head a little tilted so his bangs hang out of his eyes. After a few seconds of returning his gaze, you realize the dark of his irises were dilated pupils. Perhaps a sign of drug overdo--
"You're friend is looking for you."
"That guy. Your boyfriend or whatever."
The teen's response is a shrug. A shrug.
He's kidding right?