The sound of the metal doors slamming against the concrete floor echoed in the store house. A figure was placed in the center of the room, a burlap sack over their head. Their arms were tied behind them, legs bound to the chair. I knew immediately by the clothing who it was.
“Miyu,” I breathed, running forward, Bakugou at my side.
“That wasn’t very long at all,”
I spun around, watching Dabi emerge from the shadows. Bakugou straightened up, a small explosion popping in his palm. He went to move forward, but I held my arm out, stopping him before he could do anything.
“Untie Miyu and check all of her wounds. If anything is fatal, our priority is to get her away and to a hospital,” I said.
“How considerate,” Dabi said, walking towards me. “My assumption was correct; you broke away from the heroes and came on your own.”
“Do you blame them?” I asked, my hand curling around the wrist of my right hand. The metal ring glinted around my ring finger.
“You didn’t trust them?” He asked, the two of us falling into a cycle. We walked around in a circle, eyeing each other like the other was prey. It reminded me of boxers on TV, how they would walk around before throwing a punch.
“I had no other choice,” I said. “Where are my brothers and my parents?”
“They’re not dead if that’s what you’re asking,” He replied, the flash of a blue flame sparking at the tip of his index finger.
I felt my eyes narrow. “You’re not the one who has them,”
“Great deductive skills, Sherlock,” He said.
“This has something to do with Tonho. All for One. He’s the one behind all this, isn’t he?” I said.
“The old bastard isn’t doing it himself. He’s using his puppets,” Dabi hummed.