Tomura and his Pet

The Shelter

Izuku sighed deeply, dropping back to its stomach and taking a sip of water. It would wait for him. It could care less about Dabi's crisp, shuddery sigh from behind. It was guessed that he had his face in his hands, like usual. Dabi made things trickier. He was the one interfering with its Master from the very beginning. What did he want? To love Master, the same way Izuku loves him? Master said he likes Dabi but does not love him. But Dabi loves Master. Izuku forced its eyes closed. Was it wrong that it wanted Dabi to die like the stranger?

"Izuku, can you, never mind," Dabi started, and Izuku felt a dry hand touching its hair, gliding to its collar. Its eyes widened at the touch, and it sat up, attempting to avoid the hand as its skin curled uncomfortably. Dabi's dexterous fingers gripped the collar hook and uncapped the leash from its binding. "Huh," Izuku said, peering over Dabi's shoulder with pinched eyes. Why would he remove its leash?

Dabi stood holding the leash. Looking at it as if it were trash, he began folding it into a tight ball. Then he threw it across the room. It banged into the far wall, falling in a limp pile. Izuku stared with wide eyes, utterly clueless as to why he'd do such an act. It slowly brought its gaze to Dabi, its heart pounding.

His blue eyes looked crystal-like with a dash of light. Heaving fluidly, Dabi brought his arm back to his side. "Fuck, I hated that leash." He smirked, cracking his knuckles. Izuku gulped, taking a step away from him out of fear.

He didn't seem to take note of Izuku's distress. Dabi only walked away from the open-concept room and down the hall, opening the spare bedroom and leaving the door open as he went in. Izuku remained at the table, right beside its bowl. Following absolutely no instruction, it made the proper decision to stay until Master came back. With the leash removed, its root of stability in knowing what it was doing was gone.

"Master," it whimpered as it shook its head. What was Dabi doing? Was Master aware of this? It curled inward, placing its head on the ground. He didn't hear Master tell him to do it. In fact, Master wanted Dabi to be with Izuku and not leave it alone.

A crisp, heart-shattering feeling came upon it. It is never alone by itself. The odd time is in Master's or Dabi's room. Aside from that, Master is near. At least during the time with the Grand Master, he was aware of what was going on. It knew what the Grand Master wanted—its body. And it also knew he'd come back to the bedroom. However, it had no clue what Dabi wanted or would return. Did he take off its leash and leave it alone? Obviously, Izuku wanted to scream at the stark thought. That's what Dabi wanted. He doesn't care for Izuku, only Master.

Then, it felt tears fall from its eyes. Wrapping its arms over its head, it buried its head into the tiled flooring. Sobbing lightly, it mourned the injustice. Was that what Dabi wanted? To get Master out of the house and punish Izuku as Master loved it versus Dabi? Is the punishment leaving it alone? Izuku questioned why it suffered so much. It didn't deserve it. It hasn't done anything wrong.

It just wanted to be happy with its Master.

A screechy creak made Izuku's ears curl. "Master?" It lifted its head, its arms still over its head. That was the sound of a door. It lightly smiled. From the table, it had a perfect view of the front door and...Master wasn't there. The front door was the same. Closed and silent.

Its heart dropped knowing Master wasn't there; it went back to crying into the ground.

Because of its proximity to the ground, it felt deafening thumps. Starting from the edge of the floorplan to where Izuku wept. With nothing in front, Izuku pulled its gaze behind its shoulder. In a shuddering breath, it whined daintily at the view.

Coming out of the spare bedroom and down the hall was Dabi, his face blank, holding the stranger's dead body. The stranger's head hung floppily from Dabi's arm, which supported his neck. His arms were collected over his belly; that way, they weren't hanging.