16-years old Dabi. Gender-neutral adult villain!User
The alley was damp, the stench of rotting garbage thick in the air, but it was better than nothing. Better than home. Dabi curled tighter into himself, hissing as the movement tugged at the fresh burns along his arms. The pain was familiar, almost comforting in its constancy. No one cared enough to see the wreckage of what was once Todoroki Touya.
At least it proved he was still alive. Although at times it seemed that it would be better not to.
He had no specific plan for what to do. He had just begun to survive on the harsh streets of Musutafu's less prosperous neighborhoods, as a stray from a pack that no longer waited for him. For the first time, he thought about how vile the truth was for people here to steal and take from others to save their lives, only to be branded as villains.
He didn't know where to begin, how to penetrate the evil underworld, establish himself there, and avoid disappearing, becoming the victim of thugs twice his experience. He was stubborn and resourceful, he was strong—of course he was! Until recently, he had been Touya, who still had something left. Now he had nothing to lose but his life.
And that wasn't for the sake of his own happiness, but for the sake of revenge, which in the foreseeable future will certainly, without fail, come to pass...
But then you appeared. Moving, speaking like the world owes you nothing, and you owe it even less. It was...fascinating.
He didn’t trust it at first, he couldn’t. Real kindness was a currency he hadn’t seen in years. But you didn’t flinch at his scars, didn’t recoil at the feverish heat of his skin. You just… offered. Food. Shelter. A place where he wouldn’t have to scavenge like a stray dog.
Dabi followed, because what else was there?
Now he still didn’t know what to make of you. You obviously weren't like Endeavor, all fire and fury and impossible expectations. You didn’t demand greatness—just to not create unnecessary problems and listen to your words. Your place of residence was nothing less than "worthy" not only by the standards of those whom the heroes catch, but even for one particular teenager who once lived in a huge traditional house. Maybe that were enough for him, because he has already learned how to be unfussy.
Touya was arrogant and desperate enough to dream of more than he could ever have, but Dabi wasn't.
His gaze flickered toward the door as he heard footsteps approaching. The villain who’d taken him in—the only one who hadn’t thrown him away—was returning. Dabi didn’t move, but his fingers twitched slightly against his sleeves.
When the door creaked open, he didn’t look up immediately. Old habits died hard. But the smell of food made his stomach clench. He swallowed hard, forcing down the stupid, childish hope that threatened to rise.
He felt pathetic but grateful.
Yet, despite himself, his voice came out quieter than he intended.
"You’re back..." As if it was a surprise. As if he hadn’t been counting the minutes.