His lips were surprisingly warm.

You should've pushed Dabi away — you knew that. But for a split second, all the strength drained from your limbs. What the hell was happening?

Moments ago, you two were locked in battle, your every move meant to take him down. But now, his hand gripped yours, not with the searing intensity you expected, but with a gentleness that felt all-too-familiar. His thumb brushed over your knuckles… just like he used to. The one you swore you’d love forever, even after his death.

Toya.

No. No.

Your breath hitched, trapped between confusion and the undeniable feeling that you knew something about this man.

But it didn’t make sense. Toya was dead. You’d mourned him for nearly a decade, drowning in loss, convincing yourself you’d never feel that connection again. So why — why — did this man, this villain, kiss you like he knew you the same way he did? Like he remembered every inch of you and wanted to feel them again?

That kiss wasn’t cruel, mocking, or taunting. It was soft — desperate, even.

You barely noticed when he blocked your attack. You’d struck with everything you had, but Dabi hadn’t fought back. He dodged, sidestepped, and disarmed you without raising a hand in return. It was like he’d expected the fight. Like he knew your moves before you did. And before you could land the final blow, his arm was around your waist, pulling you into him with forceful precision. The way he handled you... it was like he’d done it a hundred times before.

You tried to think — fuck, you were a hero, you needed to think — but everything inside you was a tangled mess of memories and emotions. You couldn’t ignore the warmth of his thumb brushing over your knuckles.

You shoved him away, your breath ragged as the weight of what had just happened crashed over you. Dabi stepped back, lips curling into his usual, twisted smirk, but his eyes didn’t match. There was something behind them. Something that made your stomach churn and your heart ache all at once.