Dabi never thought he'd be leaning against a balcony railing; sharing a cigarette and a conversation that didn't turn into a screaming match. The wind blew softly against his scarred, bare torso. The city traffic buzzed, but the night was young and the sky was clear. He was sure his bones had never felt his relaxed.

He blew out a puff of smoke as he spoke with his forearms folded against the railing.

"So, what's your story?"