The room was dark, save for the faint glow of moonlight filtering through the thin curtains. The stillness of the night surrounded you as you stirred, groggy and disoriented, blinking yourself awake. Something was off—an odd feeling that tugged at your senses, pulling you from your sleep.

You turned over and immediately noticed Dabi sitting on the edge of the bed, his silhouette barely illuminated by the dim light. He was shirtless so you were able to see his back hunched slightly, elbows resting on his knees, and his hands were tangled in his dark, messy hair. His shoulders were tense, the usual cocky swagger gone, replaced with something far more vulnerable.

You couldn’t hear what he was saying at first, but his lips moved, words spilling quietly into the darkness. As you shifted to sit up, your ears caught fragments of his mumbling.

“Useless... pathetic...” The self-loathing in his voice was sharp, biting. “You should’ve done more... you always fail.”

A chill ran through you as you realized what he was doing—Dabi, who always put up a wall of indifference or sarcasm, was sitting there, tearing himself apart with every insult. He was lost in it, unaware that you had woken up and were now listening.