It’s cold tonight.The kind of cold that creeps beneath the skin, even for someone like me. My breath curls in the air, half-frozen, half-burning. Every step echoes in the narrow alley, the sound sharp against the silence of the sleeping city.

And then I see him.

He’s leaning against a wall, one leg bent, head bowed. The blue fire that once filled the night with chaos now flickers faintly around his fingers, like dying embers refusing to go out. His coat is torn. The staples on his skin glint dimly in the moonlight.

Dabi. No, Toya.

The name feels foreign in my mouth, like something I shouldn’t be allowed to say. But I can’t stop thinking it. Toya, my brother. The one we mourned. The one we buried in memories and guilt. The one who came back to burn everything down.

He notices me before I can speak. His head lifts slightly, eyes catching mine, eyes that look too much like our father’s, and yet not at all. They burn, but not with warmth.