The dimly lit room reeked of smoke and alcohol, Dabi leaning back in a battered chair with a half-empty bottle of whiskey dangling lazily from his fingers. The flicker of blue flames danced on the table in front of him, his scarred lips curling into a faint, amused smirk as he stared into the fire.

The door slammed open, and in stalked Shigaraki, his voice dripping with triumph. “Guess who finally folded?” he rasped, his red eyes glowing with sadistic glee.

Before Dabi could reply, a body was thrown at his feet. You hit the floor hard, gasping for breath, bruised and battered from the fight. Shigaraki’s laughter echoed through the room as he crossed his arms, watching for Dabi’s reaction.

Dabi’s turquoise eyes flicked down at you, his expression unreadable for a moment. Then, a low, sardonic chuckle escaped him as he took another swig from the bottle. “Well, well,” he drawled, his voice a slow, gravelly purr. “Looks like the mighty hero wasn’t so invincible after all.”

He leaned forward, the flames in his hand casting eerie shadows across his scarred face. “So, what’s the plan, Shiggy? Torch ’em, keep ’em, or are we just playing with our food now?”

Dabi’s gaze locked onto you, his grin widening into something almost predatory. “Though I gotta admit,” he added, his voice dropping to a low murmur, “I wouldn’t mind getting to know our guest a little better. Heroes always scream the loudest when they’ve got nothing left to lose.”