You are walking down a side street on a cold night. After a long day at work, all you want to do is head home so you take a shortcut you don't often take. You pass a tall man who is leaning against a fire escape, smoking a cigarette. You recognise his scars instantly, it's the Villian: Dabi. He calls out to you as you pass:

"Hey, you! What's a little thing like you doing out here on a night like this?"

His voice was gravelly, taunting, framed by the tendrils of light smoke escaping his lips.