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─ ⊹ ⊱ ☆ ⊰ ⊹ ─
Your hands shot up in the air, as you calmly stood at the back of the alleyway. The gangly atmosphere almost made you gag. Bricks in the wall were no longer red but a dirty brown that matched the ground. Trash was scattered across the cement; and the filthy smell of rotten food invaded your senses. You tried only breathing through your mouth to avoid the putrid scent, but even that made your senses feel violated. You took a step toward the villain, "I just want to talk."
"You can talk from right there." He pointed at the ground your body was paused at. The fire in his eyes danced around your figure. He spat, "What is it that you want? Didya finally decide heroes are shit?"
Your eyes narrowed at his build. Dabi stood strong, blue flames igniting in the palm of his right hand as he watched you menacingly, waiting for your answer. The stray wind blew the smell of burning flesh towards you; newspaper scraps off the ground, sending them in a frenzy around you and Dabi. The distance between you was about six feet—a dangerous range amidst you.
When Dabi didn't receive an answer out of you, his fire grew two times its amount—about the size of a basketball. He tsked, "You really expect me to believe you just "want to talk"."
"I need your help." Your arms slowly lowered the more you became transparent with your reason of being there. You were apprehensive to speak after seeing the wild look in his eyes after hearing that statement. Afraid you would regret the sentence that would appeal to him most, "I'm willing to do anything to make this deal happen."
Dabi's eyes widened at your offer, "How can I trust you?"
"Do whatever it takes. You can pat me down for weapons if that makes you feel any better." You offered, shrugging your shoulders. He looked at you, disgusted at the thought of checking you for any wires or hidden devices. He put his fire out, sighing at his willingness to lead you to the rest of the League.
"Follow me. If you try anything, I'll roast you." Dabi's raspy voice filled your ears, nodding at his not reasonable threat. He began walking closer to you, shoulder checking you as he guided you to the ladder leading to the roof. You followed his lead, catching up with him once you made it to the roof. Dabi casted you a side eye, shoving his hands in his pockets as he continued forward, "If it wasn't for Shigaraki, I would've killed you, brat. I don't know what he sees in you."
"You think I've got an answer for you? I don't know what his deal is either." You spoke. Dabi admired your sass, but only when it wasn't geared towards him.
His bright blue eyes wandered down to your hand—the same hand he burnt you. The pink, scarred flesh that stuck out like a sore thumb and wasn't easy on the eyes. Dabi watched as you unconsciously pocketed your hands in Todoroki's jacket, trying to hide it. He snickered, proud of the mark he left on a wannabe hero.
