| DABI | Echoes in the Midnight Ember | Book 1 |

| 2 |

The Midnight Ember was a well-oiled machine in its own chaotic way. Every night it ran on a low hum of murmurs and clinks of glass, a strange harmony between those who chose to hide in the shadows and those who thrived in them. The regulars were easy to spot: grizzled faces half-hidden by shadows, bodies slouched over drinks, eyes darting nervously as if expecting someone to show up, or worse, expecting no one to show up at all. Rina had long learned how to blend into the background, her presence barely a whisper in the bar's constant buzz. She wasn't here to make friends. She was here to get through the night.

The usual routine unfolded in front of her: wiping down the counter, taking orders, and passing drinks to the patrons, each of them wrapped in their own quiet world of secrets. The occasional laugh or shout punctuated the otherwise muted atmosphere, but Rina didn't flinch. Her senses were tuned out, the rhythmic thrum of music through her headphones drowned everything else. It helped her focus, to block out the ever-present undercurrent of noise from her quirk.

She'd just served a grumpy-looking man in a leather jacket when the door opened with a soft jingle. The energy in the bar shifted immediately. People's gazes flickered toward the entrance, some faces tightening, others hardening. Rina didn't need to look up. She knew who had entered.

Dabi.

He stepped in with that effortless confidence of someone who knew the power of making an entrance. His presence filled the room like a cold wind, unmistakable. His scorched skin, his smirk, that intense, almost mocking aura—everything about him screamed danger, even in a place like Midnight Ember. The hushed whispers began almost immediately, despite the low hum of music.

"Is that really him?" someone muttered from a booth near the back.

"Don't stare," another voice warned. "You don't want his attention."

Rina was already moving, reaching for a glass and pouring the whiskey without even needing to look. She'd seen him come through this door more than once, though he rarely stayed long. Dabi didn't care about the bar; he came when he wanted to disappear, to lurk in the corners like a ghost, but tonight felt different. There was a tension to his every step, a quiet storm in his eyes.

Rina didn't flinch, though. She wasn't afraid of him. Not anymore.

She glanced up only once, her eyes meeting his for a brief moment as he made his way to the bar. His gaze was sharp, almost piercing, but it softened when he saw her. His smirk widened ever so slightly as if amused by the lack of reaction she gave him.

"Whiskey. Neat," he said, his voice low and rough like gravel, the words falling from his lips like a command. It wasn't a question; it was just what he wanted, simple and direct.

Rina nodded and slid the glass down the counter with practised ease, her hand brushing against the cold edge of the wood. She didn't say anything, didn't acknowledge the fact that she was serving one of the most wanted men in the country. Dabi liked that, she suspected. Silence was her strongest weapon in this place, and it was the one thing people like him didn't expect.

The murmurs of the bar continued in the background as she poured herself a drink, her own quiet moment of stillness in the madness around her. She wasn't sure why Dabi came here—whether it was to forget, to lay low, or to meet someone in the back room, but he never stayed for long. People like him didn't stick around in one place for too long.

But tonight, something about him felt different.

She pushed the glass toward him, their fingers brushing briefly, and he took it without hesitation. Dabi's eyes never left hers, his expression unreadable, but there was something about the way his gaze lingered that made Rina's pulse skip.

"Same old, huh?" he said, breaking the silence between them, his tone casual but with a hint of something deeper, something unspoken.

Rina gave a small shrug, leaning against the counter as she wiped down the wood in slow, deliberate motions. "Not much changes around here," she replied. Her voice was even, but she was aware of the others watching. She could feel their eyes on him—some curious, some wary—but none daring to speak too loudly. Not in front of him.

A few people at the bar murmured under their breath, recognizing the man who had made headlines more times than they cared to count. One man, a regular with a face full of tattoos, leaned toward his companion and whispered, "That's him. The fire guy."

The other nodded, but they kept their voices low, careful not to catch Dabi's attention.

Dabi seemed to enjoy the unease his presence caused. He took a slow sip of his drink, his lips curling into that half-smirk of his. "It's quiet tonight," he said, his voice barely above the din of the bar. "What, no one's got the guts to start trouble?"

Rina didn't answer. She had no interest in provoking him, not tonight. The Midnight Ember was a haven for those like Dabi—those who wanted to hide in plain sight, away from prying eyes. But even here, his reputation preceded him. People were careful. Quiet. Like he might turn his attention to them at any moment.

She didn't want that. She was content with her role behind the bar—discreet, invisible, and just a little out of reach.

But that didn't mean she couldn't feel the weight of his stare as he leaned in closer, his voice low and almost teasing. "You're not curious, are you?"

Rina met his gaze briefly, her face unreadable. "Curiosity doesn't help anyone around here."

Dabi's smirk widened. "Maybe. Or maybe it's just that you're too smart for your own good."

Rina didn't respond to that, though she felt a flicker of something stir in her chest. She wasn't afraid of him—no, that wasn't it. But there was something in his words, something in the way he observed everything and everyone, that made her wonder. Maybe he wasn't as untouchable as he wanted to seem.

He took another drink, then slid a few bills across the bar without a word, standing up to leave.

As he turned to go, a few heads turned toward him, the tension in the airlifting just a little as he made his way toward the back door.

"Same time next week?" someone called out from a dark corner.

Dabi didn't reply, but his head nodded just enough to acknowledge the question.

Rina watched him disappear into the shadows. Her breath was steady, but something in the air felt different now. Even though he was gone, his presence lingered like the fading burn of his fire.

She wiped down the bar again, mechanically, her thoughts momentarily drifting toward the man who never seemed to stay in one place for too long.

But here, in the darkness of Midnight Ember, it didn't matter. The shadows had their own rules. And for now, Dabi's fire was just one more echo in a world full of them.