Sonder

Dolorblindness

dolorblindness/doh-ler-blahynd-nis/ * noun

The frustration that you'll never be able to understand another person's pain, only ever searching their face for some faint evocation of it, then rifling through your own experiences for some slapdash comparison wishing you could tell them truthfully, "I know exactly how you feel."

CONTENT WARNING

Drug and alcohol abuse, sex under the influence, roofies, sexual assault, mentions of drug overdose and suicide, death

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The first time he saw Dabi snort a line of cocaine was at yet another party, where they always seemed to meet without fail, and his heart dropped into his stomach. This time Shinsou was sober and Dabi was inebriated. He once again didn't know why he let his friend convince him to come, but Shinsou decided to stick with Monoma instead of standing to the side people watching. Monoma had given him an odd look, but shrugged and led him to a room upstairs after getting a few drinks. He walked into the room like he belonged there, which was disconcerting in itself, but he didn't expect to walk into a room filled with smoke, and Dabi sitting on the floor with a few other people, inhaling something on the surface of a table.

"Hey Dabi, get me a line," Monoma said and walked into the room, leaving the door open with Shinsou standing in the doorway somewhat frozen in shock.

"Payment first, you little shit," Dabi said, sniffling and rubbing his nose, flushed red, and pinched it for a moment.

Monoma rolled his eyes, dug into his back pocket and slapped a few notes onto the table next to the man's right hand. "There, that should cover it."

Dabi picked up the money, counted it for a moment, and then grinned widely. "That's a good boy," he cooed mockingly, patting the blond's cheek and puckered his lips like he wanted to kiss him. "Twice," he said, turning away when it looked like Monoma might actually kiss him, and gestured to a man with sandy blond hair.

Shinsou watched as they prepared a few lines for Monoma, who then leaned over the table to snort the first line. He made an odd noise, like it gave him pleasure, sniffed a few times and leant back for more. "If you want a line, you're gonna have to pay for it yourself, I don't have enough for you too, Shin," he said before he snorted another line.

"Not interested, thanks," Shinsou drawled, eyelids lowered as an odd emotion washed over him. Was he angry? Sad? He couldn't quite put a name to it.

Dabi whipped around to face him when he spoke, eyes wide as his lips parted. "Hitoshi," he whispered, nearly inaudible over the music in the house.

"Oh, you two are familiar with each other?" Monoma asked, like he hadn't watched Dabi drag Shinsou upstairs all those weeks ago when they first met.

Dabi opened and closed his mouth a few times to reply, but Shinsou interrupted before he could. "We fucked a few times, nothing special," he said. It was hard to ignore the hurt in Dabi's expression, but he couldn't even begin to describe all the emotions he was feeling at that moment. "I'm just gonna go, I'll see you Monday, Monoma," Shinsou said and walked out of the room when his friend gave him a half-hearted wave.

"Hitoshi, wait!" Dabi called and scrambled after him, but Shinsou didn't wait.

He abandoned his drink along the way, twisting through the crowd until he made it outside. He walked down the street, hoping to put as much distance between himself and the house as he could. He felt angry, yes, sad, sure, his friend was dabbling in some dangerous things, life altering things, and apparently Dabi not only took drugs, but sold them too. So yes, he was angry, but beyond that he was disappointed. He could excuse the weed, a lot of people used that as stress relief, but harder drugs? They fucked with peoples lives, their health, and now Dabi was one of them. He couldn't bring himself to watch the outcome of this. He had to put distance between them, and had to cut Dabi out of his life before something tragic happened and Shinsou was left with the broken pieces. He would not let whatever happened with Hawks repeat itself. He couldn't live through that again, he couldn't-