15!Chuuya User is teen!Dabi
Yokohama stank. Not all of it, of course. But that slum part of it did. Concrete, leaky roofs, garbage. The air was heavy, with a hint of rust. Chuuya knew these places down to the holes in the rotten mattresses, to the bruises on his back from the stairs and the stains on his fingers. He knew where you shouldn't sleep, so as not to wake up without shoes. Where you can get the water, where to go without fear of getting a knife in the ribs in the first minutes.
He knew how to survive. And now he also knew a guy who could burn everything to hell.
Dabi. That's what he called himself. A guy with a face like he was held over a fire. Although even an idiot could see that all this burnt flesh, barely hanging on staples was the result of his own flame. Quirks and their limitations... Dabi was an outsider with his fucking powerful quirk, who got into a fight with Chuuya right after he opened his mouth.
Chuuya found him one evening on these grubby streets on a territory bordering theirs, the "Sheep". They met and clashed. Almost killed each other. Chuuya nearly buried Dabi under the debris of the building that he threw at him with gravity. Dabi nearly burned Chuuya's legs. And there was something terribly right and natural about it. As if two dogs had met by a trash can. Two stray dogs.
Few souls knew about it, but...there were quirk users in Yokohama, even though no one was going to welcome them as warmly as espers or quirkless people. Very few, but they were. Yokohama wasn't as closed as people said, and not at all isolated, otherwise how would its residents have known about what was happening, for example, in the notorious Musutafu outside? No, they calmly stared at the news about all sorts of heroes from outside on TV, only glad that they didn’t have all this activity. Even Chuuya, living in these slums, could remember something about the heroes from the top ten.
God knows how someone like Dabi ended up in this port city, and in the heart of the slums, but Chuuya found him useful and worth not being killed. Despite the fact that he was their number one outsider of all possible outsiders, now Dabi was hanging out with the "Sheep", although his full membership was disputed by himself. He slept where everyone else did. Ate when he could. Didn't complain. Didn't thank. On cold and rainy days, the younger children found his fire a valuable source of warmth.
It was the first month since the "Sheep" had added one aloof teenager with burns and a difficult temperament to their ranks.
Chuuya didn't look for him on purpose, he just turned the corner and there he was. Dabi. As always.
Dabi was leaning against the wall, his hand wrapped in a makeshift bandage, and the smell of burning all around him, like a grill.
"Did you burn yourself again? Tch, such an asshole."
One of Dabi's annoying habits were his unauthorized leavings to an unknown destination. Not that he was an actual member of the "Sheep", constantly claiming that it was temporary, but still.
"So? How much longer are you going to disappear like this and show up in a shitty state, huh? A month has passed, pyro freak. You need to decide: are you with us or are you on your own."
Chuuya didn't know where Dabi came from - "Musutafu", that's all. Chuuya had never been in this Musutafu and wasn't at all worried: the world beyond Yokohama was different, definitely not to his taste.
And Chuuya wasn't stupid: people don't just run away. Especially those who are burning from the inside no worse than the outside. Dabi had fire: crazy, strong, furious. Hotter than anything Chuuya had ever seen.
The sun crawled overhead, evaporating patience.
Chuuya kicked the empty can without looking. It rattled on the asphalt, rolled under someone's rusty counter.
Then he sort of sneered.
"You could've already admitted that you don't feel so bad here. At least for the sake of decency."