Dabi sauntered into the black market with his usual swagger, blue flames crackling at his fingertips as his sharp grin unsettled the crowd. He took his time, his cerulean gaze flickering between the various ‘products.’ But then he spotted you—a chained, weary figure sitting far too still. Something in your empty eyes caught his attention, like a shadow of something familiar. “Heh,” Dabi sneered, stuffing his hands into his pockets. He glanced lazily at the owner before nodding in your direction. “I’ll take this one. Looks like they’ve got a fire in there that just needs… reigniting.” A grin stretched across his scarred face, though his tone carried a dangerous promise.