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Dabi's eyes peel themselves open against his will, and it feels like needles stabbing into his eyeballs when the overhead lights come into view. They turn off soon after and a mop of white hair comes into view.
His lips part, but no sound leaves his throat. Natsuo stands above him, squinting at him, a familiar look of annoyance on his face.
There is no way for Dabi to respond. Natsuo figures this out, too, his nose scrunching up, and just as fast as he came, he's leaving.
"Stupid brother," he mutters on his way out. Dabi ignores him, frowning.
Dabi does not expect him to return. He expected it from Shouto, whose heart is too pure, or from Fuyumi, whose ridiculous desire for him to recover outweighs all logical reasoning, or even from Touya's mother.
(Not his mother, because Touya is no more. Touya is dead. Dabi should be, too.)
But he does not expect Natsuo to return. Natsuo has always liked running, like when they were playing tag as kids as he was always the fastest among the three of them. Sometimes, Dabi thinks he should've been born a free bird instead of into the cage they grew up in.
Alas, Natsuo shows up again. He doesn't know how long it's been, or why Natsuo is here alone without anyone else, but Dabi manages to turn his head ever so slightly this time, acknowledging his presence.
Maybe he's doing this for Fuyumi's sake. She's always spoiled him.
"Oi, nii-san," Natsuo says, and the words don't feel like they're directed at Dabi. "I'm going back to university next week. So I'm going to visit as much as I can, whether you like it or not."
Dabi wants to scoff. Instead, he closes his eyes, listening to Natsuo walk off.
Natsuo comes by again, like a persistent, irritating leech. He leans against the bed frame this time, his hands gripping the railings, and Dabi has half a mind to tell him that his face looks stupid.
(Is this what siblings do? Regular siblings?)
"You're looking better," Natsuo notes, to which Dabi thinks, hell no. He doesn't feel any better than he did yesterday, or the day before, or the few months he's been here. He doesn't even know how long it's been, with the way his days are blending together and time slips from his fingertips. "I brought this."
Natsuo reaches behind him and pulls out a bottle of sencha green tea. He waves it in front of Dabi's eyes. It's the same brand he used to love, the one he used to fight with Natsuo for when there was one last bottle in the fridge.
With a small smirk, Natsuo opens the bottle, tossing the cap in Dabi's general direction. It bounces off his bed and onto the floor. His smirk widening, Natsuo brings the bottle to his lips and takes a large swig.
"You stole the last bottle last time," he explains, as if Dabi asked. "Even though I wrote my name on it. This is my revenge, nii-san."
Because Natsuo is, apparently, still horrible like that. Dabi would roll his eyes if he could. He thinks the general action gets across anyway.
He's behaving like Fuyumi, Dabi thinks. Trying so hard to pretend everything is normal, or at least return to some semblance of it. Dabi wonders if Natsuo knows that he's only dancing with a ghost, and that the presence of Todoroki Touya, his older brother, has died long ago. All that's left is a useless, shattered memory.
He wonders if he'll come back tomorrow, too.
He does. He comes back tomorrow, and then the day after, and soon, it's time for Natsuo to leave for university. It's not like Dabi will be particularly lonely. Shouto and Fuyumi are also visiting as often as they can, even though Shouto's attempts at conversations are less than insightful (Dabi does not care about his classmates or his teacher. He really doesn't want to know), and Fuyumi is like an overbearing caretaker who speaks with too much love in her voice.
Natsuo is neither. Natsuo comes in, tells him to suck it up and recover soon, and says goodbye.
By the time Natsuo returns for his next visit, it's definitely been a few months. Dabi's body is steadily recovering thanks to the high-class equipment and treatment he's been undergoing. He doesn't think it's deserved, but he has no one to complain to. Besides, he's certain he knows who is paying for this, and thinking about it makes him want to throw up, so he doesn't.
When Natsuo walks in and sees him sitting up, his head leaning against the wall, he's visibly stumped. Dabi wants to laugh at him, but he still can't talk much, so he refrains.
"You look like absolute shit," Natsuo says brightly. He sounds the happiest he's been in a while.
Dabi smirks. Back at you, he thinks, looking at the heavy eye bags under Natsuo's eyes. It's a kinder life he's never experienced, but he can imagine the specific kind of torture only a university could bring.
"The doctors told me that you can move your jaw, but your nerves are fried, so you'll have to get prosthetics. Totally your fault, by the way," he says hotly, dragging a stool over.
Always so callous, Natsuo. Dabi won't admit that he's kind of missed him.
"Nii-san," Natsuo will groan whenever he comes by. He's on break from university, so he's taken it upon himself to bother Dabi constantly in the way only a little brother would know how. He doesn't think about the implications of that.
Just to be petty, Dabi doesn't bother responding when he addresses him as such. He's been trying so hard to drive home the fact that Touya is dead, and that Natsuo is only clinging onto an invisible figure. Why is he so impossibly stubborn?
Dabi still can't talk much, his throat feeling hoarse and scratchy whenever he tries, but he's improving. And so, when he can finally muster up the energy to do so, he tells Natsuo with firm conviction, "Your nii-san is dead. Stop calling me that."
He expects Natsuo's eyes to fall the way Fuyumi's did when he said the same thing to her, unable to handle the care and love in her gaze. It's got to hurt, right? To hear such a brutal truth?
Instead, Natsuo gives him an annoyed look, tossing his hands in the air. "Who gives a fuck if you're Touya or Dabi? You're still my brother."
The words punch the air out of Dabi's lungs. He sucks in a husky gasp, eyes widening, and Natsuo's frown deepens.
"You're so dramatic. Hey, what was that dance you did on live TV? Something like… hold on, I have the video saved—"
Natsuo breezes past the topic like it's nothing, taking out his phone to pull up Dabi's video. He snickers, spreading his arms, attempting to copy his dance. He looks ridiculous and he's got the twirling all wrong, and it's the kind of unbelievable mockery only a sibling could recreate.
Stupid brother , Touya thinks, laughter bubbling out of his throat. Natsuo ignores him, smiling.