A Collector

Burn Baby Burn

Masaki had finally shaken off the sickness that had knocked her out for a week — but now she was angrier than she'd ever been.

How the hell did this happen?

How?

The one week she was bedridden, Izuku up and disappeared. Vanished without a word. And now she was stuck dealing with some burned-up, homeless extra stalking the school.

But what pissed her off the most — what really got under her skin — was the way these extras were acting like they gave a damn.

If they really cared, they would've helped. They would've helped Zuzu. They would've been there when it counted.

But no. Nothing. Just empty words and half-assed gestures.

Before she could stew on that thought any longer, there was a sudden groan from above, followed by the unmistakable hiss of water.

Masaki froze.

For a moment, she couldn't figure out what was happening, and then the realization hit her. The building's sprinkler system had gone off.

Her stomach dropped.

She was soaked — and in her school uniform, no less. The water clung to her skin, making her feel cold and uncomfortable. "Great," she muttered. She could already picture how long it would take to get everything dried out. Such a pain.

But wait...

Why had the sprinklers triggered in the first place?

_______________

Dabi looked around, taking in the classroom. He wasn't a stranger to infiltrating places—hospitals, pharmacies, doctor's offices. He knew how to slip in and out, get what he needed, and leave without a trace. But a school? This was a new experience.

The place felt so... routine.

Desks arranged in neat groups of four, some with walkways between them, others clustered into pods. A photo pinned to a corkboard here, a plant on a windowsill there. Little touches of the people who worked here. He shuddered. Normal. It made him sick.

He'd never pretended to be one of the good guys, and today, he was damn glad of that.

"Who are you?!"

Dabi didn't even glance up at the voice, rolling his eyes instead.

He extended his hands. "Prominence Burn," he muttered, bored, though it didn't matter. If it was for Izuku, he'd do it.

In an instant, blue flames exploded from his body. For a moment, it felt warm—almost comforting—but then the heat bit into his skin, searing him. He didn't care.

He sent the fire lancing across the room, his aim sharp, focused. The flame streaked toward the students trying to flee, cutting through them like a hot knife through butter.

The fire didn't last long. He hadn't had enough time to build it up, but it didn't need to. The flames burned bright, quick, and deadly, then fizzled out as quickly as they came.

The air filled with the sound of screaming, but it was short-lived. The flames silenced it—cut it off. The smell of burning flesh hit Dabi's nostrils, but he didn't react.

His eyes barely flickered to the bodies. He'd seen enough burnt corpses in his life to know what they looked like. The fire still burned, though—small flames flickering across the classroom. Little fires igniting in the corners, on desks, and chairs, their heat snuffing out whatever remained of the room's order.

Then, a soft pft-hsss—a rush of water poured from the sprinklers overhead.

For a moment, Dabi stood still, blinking as the cold water hit his body. It didn't bother him at first. But as the water soaked him, he realized something.

The fire's not going out, he thought, his lips curling into an almost amused frown.

His flames were too hot for the water to put out so easily. Still, it was annoying. The sprinklers had triggered, dousing him and the room in light rain.

He shook his head, exhaling sharply. Of course. He'd set off the sprinklers.

With the fire still burning, it wouldn't take long for the fire alarm to blare. The Fire Brigade would be here soon. The local hero would show up too, trying to play the savior.

Dabi sneered. "Fuck," he muttered, taking one last glance at the chaos around him.

The damage was done. He didn't have time to wait for the cleanup. Time to go.