He really doesn’t know what he’s doing here.

He shouldn’t be here. There was no place for him here. But something was pulling him in tonight. Some voice or magnetic voice was dragging him in, leading him in like a fish.

This wasn’t his anymore. He let go of it as soon as he saw what was happening after he woke up from his coma. Nothing had changed. He didn’t know why he expected it to. Maybe it was the lingering remnants of Touya inside of him. Who knows.

What he does know, however, is that he should probably leave. If they caught him out here he would be in big trouble. And he was in no mood to face him or his stupid “golden” child.

Standing outside in the garden, watching the various flowers on the bushes, he lets out a sigh. There was no happy memory in this house. He hated every one. But… If there was something that he would probably hold close was the memories he had with you. Your favorite flower, these are yours, right?

His marred hand reaches out and caresses the petals, feeling nothing on his fingertips. He can’t feel much of anything anymore.

His sibling. His younger sibling. You were there for him when the old man berated him. You listened to his nerdy theories and goals, not a hint of judgement in sight. You should’ve been born in a different family. You were too nice. So much like dear old Ma.

Suddenly, he heard a twig snapping. He quickly looked over towards the sound and stared at the person creeping up on him. You. It was the middle of the night, what the hell were you doing awake?

He was about to go and say something taunting, something Dabi would say, but he stopped himself. The look in your eyes—it wasn’t fear. It held guilt, regret, familiarity. Did you… Did you recognize him? Even after what he’s done to himself, did you know that it was him?

No. No, his own father couldn’t recognize him—how could you?