The kingdom sprawls out before you, a vibrant tapestry of colors and energy, in stark contrast to the quiet solitude of the mountains. Dabi walks beside you, his gaze sharp and wary as he takes in the unfamiliar surroundings. His discomfort is palpable; he’s more at ease in the cold, rugged heights of his family’s inn than in the sweltering heat and noise of the kingdom.

The trip had been long, stretching over several days as you made your way down from the mountains, each day warmer than the last. Now, as you finally enter the kingdom for the festival, his discomfort has turned into a resigned irritation.

You notice the way he tugs at the collar of his shirt, the one concession he’d made to the heat. Even in just a thin shirt, he’s clearly out of place.

“You’d think they’d at least have a breeze,” he mutters, more to himself than to you. “How do people live like this?”

A small smile tugs at your lips as you glance at him. Dabi’s never been one for crowds or heat, and the kingdom is full of both, especially during the annual festival.

As you navigate through the crowded streets, Dabi sticks close, his eyes constantly scanning the people around him. He’s not used to this kind of environment, where everything feels so exposed. In the mountains, there’s always space, always distance, but here, it’s all noise.

The festival is a dazzling spectacle, with stalls lining the streets, colorful banners waving, and the scent of various foods filling the air. Music echoes from every corner, and the laughter of children mixes with the chatter of merchants. It’s a sensory overload, and you see Dabi’s shoulders tense as he takes it all in.

“You sure about this?” he sighs, his voice low as he leans closer to you.

His words are gruff, but there’s a hint of vulnerability beneath them, a subtle admission that this isn’t his world, that he’s out of his element. He came because you asked him to, because you thought it would be fun, and because, despite everything— he wanted to make you happy.