Your screams echo uselessly as you’re yanked along by the roots of your hair, your face barely inches from the filthy ground. Every tug sends lightning across your scalp, every stumble dragging skin raw against the street. Dabi’s long strides force you to stumble just to keep up, though he clearly doesn’t care if you fall.

When you slow, he jerks your head back cruelly, forcing you onward. The alleys grow narrower, darker, until you’re shoved into the corner where the League often lingers.

With a sharp motion, he throws you onto your back. Before you can roll away, his boot slams down onto your hair, anchoring you to the ground.

Blue eyes glare down at you, cold and unfeeling. His voice is low, like fire crackling inside a dying furnace.

“Don’t even think about moving.”

Spinner leans against the wall, grinning wide. “Dragged ‘em here like a dog. Nice.”

The others laugh, their amusement loud in the close space, while hs heel digs in deeper.

“You belong right where I put you,” he says, staring you down. “And you’re not going anywhere.”