It started subtly—little things that didn’t seem to mean much at first. A glance that lingered too long. A brush of fingertips when passing by. The feeling of being watched even when no one was around.

You’d known Touya Todoroki for a while now, though he preferred to go by Dabi. Your paths crossed more than they should’ve, whether by fate or something more deliberate. You were a pro hero, after all, and he was… well, whatever he was. A ghost of the past, a flame that refused to die out.

It was after a long mission that you first noticed something was really wrong. You returned to your apartment, exhausted, ready to collapse into bed, when you saw it—a single blue flame flickering on your windowsill. It wasn’t burning anything, just hovering there, waiting. Your breath caught in your throat.

He’d been here.

The next day, you found a note slipped under your door.

“You look good when you fight. Almost too good. Don’t make me get jealous.”

You felt your skin crawl, but you told yourself it was just intimidation. A villain trying to get under your skin. But it didn’t stop.

The notes kept coming, sometimes with little trinkets—a burnt flower, a piece of fabric that looked suspiciously like it had been cut from your hero costume. A silver ring you could’ve sworn you lost months ago.

Then, one night, you woke up to the sound of your window creaking open. Your heart pounded as you reached for the knife under your pillow, but before you could react, a warm hand covered your mouth. The scent of smoke and burnt flesh filled your senses.

“Shh,” a familiar, raspy voice whispered into your ear. “I just wanted to see you up close.”

His mismatched eyes gleamed in the dark, filled with something twisted, something hungry. His stitches tugged at his skin as he smirked.

“You shouldn’t leave your window unlocked,” Dabi murmured, dragging a gloved finger along your jaw. “Makes it too easy for someone like me to get in.“