Little Miss Aizawa | Dadzawa [BOOK 2]

Chapter 16 - Pocketsize Musutafu

"You have two minutes to explain." Hizashi held the tape so tight around Dabi's arms that there was a small trickle of blood from where the edges sliced into his skin.

"Geez, a little air in the ol' lungs wouldn't hurt." The Villain twisted in the binding, only for it to stick to his torso and move with him.

"Minute and fifty seconds." Hizashi reiterated.

Dabi let out a sigh, brow pinching as he squirmed within the binds. "The Blue Crossed-bitch attacked the base." He grunted. 

Hanta's stance softened, shoulders sagging noticeably. "What base?"

"Our base." Dabi snapped.

"Where?"

Dabi sat tight lipped. He ducked his head, eyes fixed on some point on the kitchen floor.

"The street across from the antiques shop in the Westside of downtown." Cypher stated, the words tumbling from his lips as if it were raw instinct. Knowing him, the know-it-all portion of his brain was probably on autopilot most of the time, simply spewing out facts about this, that, and the other without so much as a question to prompt it. 

Dabi's head shot up immediately, eyes wild and teeth grinding painfully. "Who the fuck are you?"

"Irrelevant." Cypher met his gaze head on, unwavering despite being face to face with a notorious Villain most only have seen on Musutafu's most wanted list.

"I think-"

"What did Blue Crossed do, exactly?" Hizashi tugged on the tape, drawing a painful grunt from the Villain. The Pro had to admit, in all his years of working in both teaching Heroes and in the field itself, having a member of the League of Villains sat in his kitchen - bound or not - was never a potential scenario that had crossed his mind - regardless of how uncomfortable everyone looked.

"The bastard took Shigaraki." Before their eyes, Dabi had turned from hostile to the very picture of resignation. His shoulders drooped, head hung low and hair concealing his face. Hanta felt a pang in his chest, the image having been one he'd face countless times in the mirror. "Not without a fucking fight, but the slimy little shit got away with him. I don't know what cheap-ass stunts they pulled to knock Boss out, but let me tell you when he wakes up-" Dabi cackled, throwing his head back.

"Tomura Shigaraki? The League's leader?" Neito folded his arms on the table and rested his chin on them. "Wow, I wonder what could possibly want him for."

"His Quirk, for one thing." Midoriya muttered.

Neito deadpanned him. "No shit."

"Fuck no." Dabi turned and stared dead at the freckled boy. "His Quirk? That's what the psychos want?"

"Probably." Neito huffed.

"Shit." Dabi slowly shook his head. The turquoise of his eyes was washed out, their normal fire having been subdued to a the slow trickling of a forest stream, or something equally as insipid.

"What?" Hizashi probed, tugging at the tape with less force than before. In all fairness, he knew that the binding wouldn't hold Dabi on a good day, never mind whatever the hell this was. He tried to see it as a peace offering between them, an olive branch of mutual recognition of the severity of the situation. One of the most prominent, and powerful by extension, Villains was missing. Specifically, in the hands of an even greater evil.

"Shiggy... Gah, he's gonna murder me, ya know that? I'll be nothing more than a pile of dust by the time we get him back."

"We?" Hanta repeated incredulously. "Why am I hearing a we?"