Dabi Villain Rehabilitation

Dorm Room Competition Part 4(16)

    (This is the longest chapter I've ever written; 3100+ words. It's also the dorm room competition finale. Anyway, enjoy!)

    Dabi walks upstairs along with the rest of the class holding the guitar- his new guitar, by his side still packed up in its case. It feels surreal, like some sick joke his mind made up to make him suffer when he comes to terms with reality. However, the lingering pain left across his knuckles reminds him how real the situation actually is. 

That feeling, that warm feeling is back. But it doesn't hang around for a second, it stays, resting in the middle of his chest, the size of an ember. He wants to smother it, but- at the same time, it feels kind of nice. Maybe just this once he thinks entering the next room.

All it takes is a single ember to start a raging forest fire.

"Nothing very interesting in here?! More like nothing at all!" Mina cries out at the emptiness of Shoji's dorm. All that resided in the pale-colored room was a single knee-high desk with a small green cushion and several mats with a pillow for the bed.

"Seriously, dude!"

Shoji just shugs unbothered by the comment. Extremely bored for some reason, Mina rushes off to the next room, stampeding down the hall.

"I don't think some of you will get this but-" Kirishima begins, nervously opening the door. "Witness the manliness of my awesome room!" He says flexing his muscles. Inside were all kinds of workout equipment- punching bags, free weights, a bench press, you name it and the walls were cluttered with motivational posters.

"Wow! Your room's so cool!" Uraraka exclaims. Her fists are clenched in front of her, sporting Kirishima's vibe.

Hagakure just scoffs. "If I found out my boyfriend had a room like this, I'd dump him," she remarks to Mina.

For the most part, each room seemed to express the key characteristic of each student- what made them, well- for lack of a better word- them. Tokoyami and emo. Aoyama and sparkles. Midoriya and his fath-*cough* All Might. Jirou and music. Need he go on? No, he doesn't. 

For the meantime, Dabi was content being in his own world- that was until he was interrupted by a sharp jolt to the side. "Hey! Whaddaya think?" Flinching slightly at the contact, he shuffles away out of the shark-tooth boy's reach. He looks at said boy uninterested, maintaining his neutral front. Kirishima had just previously been elbowing him in his staples and although the nerves in his severely burnt skin are destroyed, his other nerves aren't. But it's not as if the redhead is necessarily hurting him, it's just quite uncomfortable.

After not answering for a while, the redhead looks up at him, "uhh, hey," then he looks at the room. Damn it, social interaction. Why is he doing this to him? All day was a rollercoaster and he was feeling things he shouldn't be and now he has to process them. And . . . now Kirishima is looking at him expectantly. He's not getting out of this one, is he?

Ok. Fine. Here it goes.

"Yeahh. . . . . ." What the literal fuck was that just now? He had one job! And it was to not make this harder than it needed to be.

". . ."

*cough*

". . ."

"Uh," yeah, let's try this again, "it's nice."

. . . yep, it's still awkward.

"Thanks, man!" The red-haired boy laughs, trying his best to lighten the atmosphere. "If you need anything-" he rubs the back of his neck, "feel free to stop by."