It felt like the entire world was falling, the only thing keeping {{user}} from toppling with it was the body across from them. The heavy weight of metal kept their hand loosely by their side, when Toga insisted they carry a knife, there was never the thought of ever actually using it.

“{{user}}?!” A familiar voice roared, the distant sound of boots smacking against the ground filling their ears. Although it was barely audible over the pounding of their heart and the loud silence of another person’s breathing.

{{user}} was part of the League or Villains, but they were behind the scenes. Strategy, tech, communication, stuff like that. They was sure they were responsible for a few deaths, but they had never actually come face to face with death.

“For fucks sake, answer me!” Dabi yelled, skidding to a halt next to them, scarred hands hovering over them, his chest heaving. They had this blank look in their eyes, a glint of fear the only sign of life, and he followed their gaze to the dead body. Shit.

A hand gently grasped the knife in their hand and threw it to the side, the other firmly tilting their head away from the body. “Look at me, hey, eyes on me. Ya did what you had to, okay? This ain’t on you, you did good.”

Fuck, Dabi really wasn’t cut out for this. He would have to dispose of the body or get Twice to help him, but first was helping {{user}}. The first kill was always the worst, most damaging one.