Touch of Heat

Chapter 8: Falling Embers

Y/N

The world around me is a mess of smoke, collapsing walls, and scattered debris. I barely manage to drag myself out of the rubble of the station, my chest heaving with each breath. The adrenaline that helped me escape pulses in my veins, drowning out the sting of pain in my bruised limbs. The plan was risky from the start—too many variables, too much that could go wrong. And it did. Steelbreaker slipped through our trap at the last second, escaping into the chaos, leaving me with the bitter taste of failure in my mouth.

But I survived. Even if the mission didn't go as planned, I'm alive, and that counts for something. The League emerges from the shadows, gathering at our rendezvous point, their expressions hidden behind the flickering light of the fires we've left behind. Dabi's gaze finds mine instantly, locking onto me with a sharpness that cuts through the haze of smoke. His expression is unreadable, but I can feel the raw energy radiating off him—anger, yes, but something else, something darker and more tangled.

Before I can catch my breath, Dabi grabs my arm, pulling me away from the group with a grip that's bruising, his fingers digging into my skin. He shoves me back against the cracked wall of a half-collapsed building, the weight of his body crowding into my space, blocking out the noise of the city and the crackle of flames. His breath is hot against my ear, his voice low and rough.

"You almost let him slip away," he growls, his tone laced with frustration. But there's something else there too, something that makes my pulse quicken—a dark amusement in his eyes, a thrill that seems to match the wild, chaotic energy in the air. "But you made the right choice, Y/N. You made him pay for underestimating you."

I try to steady my breathing, but it's impossible with the adrenaline still coursing through me, my body shaking from the close call and the rush of what I've done. The truth is, even though Steelbreaker got away, I made sure he wouldn't forget tonight—made sure he'd know he was just as vulnerable as the people he trampled over in the name of justice. A part of me thrills at the thought, at the idea of finally striking back against someone who represents everything I once fought for.

But there's a darker edge to my victory. Steelbreaker knows who I am now. He saw through the mask I wore, saw the anger and the desperation beneath. He made sure the cameras caught every second of our encounter, his taunting voice echoing in my head. "Look at her, people. This is your fallen hero, fighting alongside the villains she once claimed to hate."

The fear of exposure claws at my chest, mingling with the heat of Dabi's proximity. There's no going back now—no chance to slip back into the shadows or hide behind the hero identity I've abandoned. The world will see me for what I've become, and there's a twisted relief in that too, as if a part of me always wanted to break free of the lie.

Dabi leans closer, his grip on my arm loosening but not letting go. His thumb brushes over my skin, trailing heat that sears through the chill of the night. His voice drops to a murmur, his lips brushing the shell of my ear. "We'll make him pay properly next time. Together."

The promise in his words sends a shiver down my spine, and I force myself to meet his gaze, searching for any hint of the man beneath the predator's grin. I find only darkness—hungry, dangerous, and achingly familiar. Despite the terror still coiling in my gut, there's a part of me that craves this, craves the way Dabi looks at me like I'm something powerful, something capable of changing the rules of the game.

I don't know what he sees in my eyes—fear, defiance, or something else entirely—but his smirk deepens, his expression turning almost possessive. "You liked it, didn't you?" he murmurs, his voice wrapping around me like smoke. "The rush. The power."

I want to deny it, to tell him he's wrong, but the words die on my tongue. Because deep down, I know he's right. I did like it. The feeling of control, of turning the tables on someone like Steelbreaker, even if it meant crossing a line I can never uncross.

Dabi's hand moves to my chin, forcing my gaze back to his, and for a moment, the air between us crackles with something electric, something that burns as hot as the flames he wields. "This is who you are now, Y/N," he says, his voice almost gentle despite the sharp edge to his words. "Stop fighting it."

The truth of his words settles heavily in my chest, mingling with the fear and the excitement that still churn inside me. Maybe he's right. Maybe this is who I am now—someone willing to burn the world that once rejected me.