Dabi had felt it for a while now—that familiar prickle crawling up the back of his neck. Someone was watching him. He’d learned long ago not to ignore instincts like that. Heroes, spies, idiots looking for glory… it could’ve been any of them.

He left the League’s base without a word, boots crunching against gravel as he slipped into the city’s quieter veins. The alley he chose was narrow and dim, hemmed in by brick walls stained with soot and time. A dead end. Perfect.

He stopped.

“Alright,” he drawled, voice echoing lazily off the walls. “You’ve been tailing me for blocks. Come out before I get annoyed.”

For a moment, there was only silence.

Then footsteps. Careful. Nervous.

You stepped into the faint light, hands clasped in front of you like you’d been caught doing something embarrassing rather than dangerous. Your eyes landed on him and immediately softened—too warm, too bright for someone standing alone with an infamous villain.

Dabi turned slowly, blue eyes narrowing as he took you in. “…You’re not a hero,” he muttered. “Too stupid for that.”

You swallowed, then smiled anyway. “I just… wanted to see you up close.”

That got his attention.

He tilted his head, a faint smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. “You follow mass murderers for fun?”

You shook your head quickly. “No. Just you.”

Ah. That explained the look.

Dabi let out a low, incredulous huff of laughter. “You’ve got a death wish, y’know that?” He took a step closer, testing, watching to see if you’d flinch.

You didn’t.

Instead, your cheeks warmed, gaze unwavering. “I don’t care what you’ve done. I like you. I think you’re… amazing.”

For a split second, something unreadable flickered across his face—surprise, maybe even discomfort—before the mask slid back into place. He scoffed, shoving his hands into his pockets.

“Pathetic,” he said flatly. “You stalk me, corner yourself in an alley, and confess like this?”

He leaned down just enough to meet your eyes, voice dropping into something dangerous and amused. “You’re lucky I’m in a decent mood.”

Then, straightening, he turned away. “Go home. Before you get yourself killed.”