A Dragon's Heart // Shoto Todoroki x Reader

Chapter 32: Dabi

"Amara." Dabi's voice pierced through the door, dragging me from sleep. Annoyance bubbled within me. Did he really have to wake me up every morning?

"What do you want now?" I groaned, pulling the warm blanket over my head. I heard the door creak open and Dabi's boots shuffling closer. Suddenly, the sheets were yanked off, exposing me to the cold air like a slap to the face. Instinctively, I curled into a ball.

In the time I'd been with the League, Dabi and I had grown "close"—as close as one could get with a villain who revealed nothing personal about himself. We just seemed to click better than I did with the others. "Get up and dressed. Meet me downstairs," he said in a monotone voice.

I chose to ignore him, but he lifted the corner of my shirt, exposing the area where I'd been stabbed. "This has healed nicely," he remarked.

"No shit. It's barely there anymore," I grumbled, yanking the sheets back over my body.

"There's not even a scar."

"Since when are you a doctor? Get out. I'll be down in a sec," I said, finally hearing him leave the room. When the door clicked shut, I sprang up and checked my reflection in the mirror. I lifted my shirt, examining the wound. The bandages had fallen away, revealing unblemished skin. Dabi was right. There wasn't even a scar.

I hurriedly got dressed, threw my dark hair into a bun, and made my way to the kitchen. The mansion felt eerily empty, like a cemetery. I'd been here for a little over a month, sending daily emails to the police. Each day I wondered how much longer I had to stay, yet found myself calling this place home.

With a full cup of coffee in hand, I sauntered downstairs to find Dabi leaning against the wall. "What did you want, Dabi? I'm a very busy man," I joked.

"Follow me, Sir," he teased, leading me down a hallway. I followed, taking careful sips of my coffee. He brought me to a wide-open room with concrete walls, resembling an arena.

"How big is this place?" I asked, genuinely curious about the League's extensive base.

"That's not important. Let me train you," Dabi said.

"What?"

"Did I stutter?" he quipped.

"Why would you want to train me?" I asked, looking up at him with a dumbfounded expression.

"I'm bored. You have a fire quirk and are impervious to fire. It just makes sense," he said. "I don't have to hold back." A smile adorned his face, and his electric blue eyes bore into mine. Satanic blue flames danced around his arms, lighting up the room as heat swirled around us. Despite myself, I found his fire beautiful. Dabi twirled before punching an imaginary target, sending a wave of hellish-blue flames forward. His flames dwindled as his eyes met mine again. "If you use your fire as an extension of your body, it becomes easier to cause damage," he explained.

His technique, his pose—they felt all too familiar. And then it hit me. He had the same technique as Shoto. Shoto Todoroki. He'd been in the back of my mind this entire time, but now, an almost carbon copy stood before me. A tangled web of emotions writhed in my stomach. This was too weird.

Moments later, we were both panting, my legs shaking as I collapsed onto the concrete floor. Training at UA was nothing compared to this. Dabi looked over at me and smiled.

"What is that thing on your face?" I teased, despite being a sweaty mess.

"I think it's called a smile," he replied.

"Did something shake loose in that thick head of yours?" I joked. Dabi chuckled before closing the distance between us, plastering his lips onto mine. His scent grew stronger, a strange sweetness mingling with the smoky aroma. His lips melted into mine, and for a moment, I lost myself.

His hands roamed over my body, igniting a fire within me. The kiss deepened, and I felt my resolve slipping. But then, the imaginary alarm bells screamed at me. I hardened my skin and pushed Dabi off, sending him flying into the wall behind us. He hit it with a thud, sliding down slowly. I sat up, glaring daggers at him.

Dabi merely chuckled to himself before slinking out of the room, leaving me alone with my confused thoughts. For the rest of the day, I ignored everyone and locked myself in my room. The door provided a small sense of security. As I sat there, my mind flickered through memories of my friends. I wondered how they were doing, if they missed me.

Time passed unnoticed until I glanced at the window, realizing it was already nighttime. The room was dark, and exhaustion lingered in my limbs. Cold air seeped through the window cracks, and the silence soothed the aching screams of my consciousness. Guilt gnawed at me, ceasing any chance of sleep. The wind groaned against the wooden structure, but it didn't stop them.

Ice-cold fingers dug into my flesh, dragging me from the warm sheets of my bed. In the darkness, it was hard to see who—or what—dragged me. They draped a cloth over my head, and my body was painfully dragged along the floorboards.

Finally, they dropped me, but I wasn't free. The familiar scent of iron hit me before cold, hard surfaces clicked around my wrists. I was left alone, my heart quickening as I wondered if I should activate my quirk or not.