Chemical Resistance (Dabi x OC)

Chapter Four

The whistling of my traditional kettle on the stove sounding loudly woke me up from my deep sleep.

Yawning, I stretched out my limbs sluggishly, suddenly confused by the itchiness of the fabric against my thighs. Looking down I tried to figure out why I was wearing what seemed to be a pair of green men's trousers and a pink bee shirt, not being able to recall having ever purchased something like those before. Then the memories of the day's earlier events flooded back as I recalled the fight, the fire, and then the flight.

The kettle continued to whistle so I got up and sleepily walked over to my kitchen where I switched the gas for the hob off and moved the kettle to a cooler part of the stove, groggily trying to figure out how long I'd been asleep. I didn't remember boiling water, but then I was so drained from everything that I wouldn't even be shocked if I'd sleepwalked and put it on. I was really thirsty.

Noticing a seemingly clean cup left out on the side, I quickly rinsed it then filled it with water, taking a long drink. I filled the cup again and downed another lot before wiping my mouth with the back of my hand and seeing the glass down in the empty sink.

Wait.

I turned back around on my heel and stared at the empty sink in bewilderment, positive that when I'd walked in earlier the sink had been full of dishes. Now, those same dishes were washed and left to dry neatly in the drying rack. They didn't seem wet at all, which meant they'd been done a while ago.

Did I sleep clean?

I caught a glimpse of the clock above my wall calendar- 3:35am. It was already the next day, which meant I'd been sleeping for a few hours, remembering it had been getting dark when I arrived home earlier. Outside, it seemed the storm had finally begun, the rain bashing against my small kitchen window as lightning cracked in strikes in the distance, the thunder sounding shortly after. I probably wouldn't get any more sleep if this continued- I'd never been able to sleep properly through storms.

Stretching, I headed to my bedroom, the balls of my feet padding against the wood. I needed to have a shower and get out of these clothes, but first I'd send an email to my boss and let her know I wouldn't be in for a few days whilst I dealt with everything from today. She'd understand, especially if I included a detailed explanation she could report as an insider scoop.

As long as I gave her a good story, she would be more than happy to give me a few days off to recover.

*****

Stepping out of the shower, I grabbed the white towel I'd hung over the railing and pulled it around my wet body. Droplets dripped from my hair and splashed onto the steamy tiles around my feet as I ran my fingers through it. Looking in the oval mirror hung on the wall in front of me, it was clear I needed a haircut. My long burgundy locks hung around my face in a disorganised mess, choppy and evident of a lack of care. I had too many split ends to count at this rate. My eyes had dark circles below them from all the long days and late nights I'd been having, making my green eyes seem even more lifeless than normal. If it hadn't been for make-up I wouldn't have been shocked if more than one person had asked me if I was okay.

I looked a state.

Mentally I promised myself to use the rest of the week to take some more care of myself, especially since my boss had been really happy with my story. She was more than happy for me to stay off if it meant she could use my experience for her piece in tomorrow's news story. It was rare that someone went against villains like that and lived to tell the tale.

The man who Dabi burnt wasn't so lucky.

I stopped myself from remembering the smell, but not before I covered my mouth to stop myself from almost throwing up. I wouldn't have been able to save him and live, I just had to keep remembering that.