A Journey through the Changing Seasons

🎐Setsubun🌸

The streets of the city were alive with the energy of Setsubun, a traditional Japanese festival marking the beginning of spring. Shigaraki and Dabi, donned in elaborate disguises to conceal their identities, navigated through the bustling crowd, their steps guided by a shared desire to partake in the festivities without drawing unwanted attention.

Shigaraki, wearing a kitsune mask with a mischievous grin, glanced at Dabi, who sported a tanuki mask. "Setsubun, huh? Never thought I'd see the day when we're blending in with the crowd."

Dabi chuckled, the mask hiding the smirk on his face. "Well, villains need a break from the usual chaos, right? Setsubun is as good a time as any to be someone else for a bit."

As they wandered through the lively streets, people around them tossed roasted soybeans, symbolizing the expulsion of evil spirits and the welcoming of good fortune. The air was filled with laughter, and the festive atmosphere seemed to seep into even the darkest corners of their clandestine existence.

Shigaraki, reaching for a handful of beans, smirked. "Evil spirits, huh? Wonder if they're talking about us."

Dabi, tossing beans with a flick of his wrist, replied, "If the mask fits. But today, we're just regular folks blending in with the crowd."

The disguises, while concealing their villainous features, added an unexpected layer of freedom. In the anonymity of the festival, Shigaraki and Dabi found themselves participating in age-old traditions, a stark departure from the chaos they usually embraced.

As they approached a temple, where people gathered for the traditional Mamemaki bean-throwing ceremony, Shigaraki observed the crowd. "This feels... weirdly normal. Almost like we're not villains for a moment."

Dabi, his eyes hidden behind the tanuki mask, nodded. "Yeah, weirdly normal. But it's a nice change. Plus, who doesn't love free beans?"

They joined the crowd in the temple courtyard, where a priest led the ceremony. The air buzzed with anticipation as people prepared to throw and catch beans, invoking good luck and prosperity for the coming year.

Shigaraki, glancing at Dabi, remarked, "Setsubun is all about change, right? Purging the bad and welcoming the good. Maybe we could use some of that."

Dabi smirked beneath the mask. "Change, huh? I never thought I'd hear you advocating for that. But hey, maybe it's not such a bad idea."

The ceremony began, and the crowd engaged in the spirited bean-throwing ritual. Shigaraki and Dabi, masked and incognito, joined in, their laughter blending with the joyous cacophony around them. As beans flew through the air, Shigaraki couldn't help but feel a sense of liberation—a fleeting escape from the constraints of their villainous personas.

After the ceremony, they strolled through the festival grounds, sampling traditional Setsubun treats and enjoying the vibrant atmosphere. The disguises allowed them to experience the festival without the weight of their infamous reputations.

Dabi, taking a bite of a rice cracker, spoke with a thoughtful tone. "You know, Shigaraki, this... it's different. Not what I expected."

Shigaraki, his kitsune mask tilted, raised an eyebrow. "Different good or different bad?"

Dabi shrugged, the tanuki mask giving a hint of nonchalance. "Different like... a break from the chaos. Like we're just people enjoying a festival, not villains plotting the next big thing."

As Setsubun unfolded around them, Shigaraki and Dabi found themselves caught in a paradox—a delicate dance between the roles they played and the fleeting moments of normalcy they craved. The festival, with its age-old traditions and symbolic rituals, offered them a reprieve from the usual villainous routine.

As the day drew to a close, they lingered in the festival's glow, surrounded by the remnants of the celebration. Shigaraki, removing the kitsune mask, glanced at Dabi. "Setsubun, the one day villains get to be someone else."

Dabi, unmasking as well, smirked. "Maybe being someone else isn't so bad. At least for a day."

In the aftermath of Setsubun, Shigaraki and Dabi left the festival grounds, their disguises discarded but the echoes of the day lingering. As they blended into the shadows, the festival's spirit trailed behind them—a reminder that even villains could find solace in moments of normalcy and tradition, hidden beneath the masks they wore, both literal and metaphorical.