As her alarm clock pealed noisily in the confines of her room, Naomi grunts awake.

Turning to face her bedside table, she blindly reaches out to silence the damn thing, groaning in annoyance as she fails to feel the damn thing. As she finally grabs ahold of the square-shaped clock, she presses the button with more force than necessary and breathes a sigh of relief as the noise dies down.

She returns back to the solace of her mattress, burying deep into the pile of blankets as she prepares to doze off once more—

"Rise and shine, Nacchan!"

Only to have the covers thrown off her body as the chipper voice of Ayane resounds in the room, erasing all traces of the peaceful tranquillity Naomi had savoured five seconds ago.

"Ugh," Naomi groans, turning to her side and grabbing a blanket to cover her face as she retorts back to her friend, voice muffled under the covers. "It's too damn early, Acchan. Quiet down."

"Uhm, I hate to break it to you Nacchan, but no can do." Ayane replies, striding over to the lump underneath the blankets and yanking the cloth off, making Naomi growl in contempt. The dark-haired girl forces herself to get up of bed, mustering a glare she directed at Ayane.

"Would it kill you to give me some peace and quiet for at least 5 minutes more?" Naomi remarks, voice dripping with venom at being awoken rudely. Ayane remains unfazed, humming to herself as she strides over the windows of Naomi's rooms, forcing the blinds open and forcing the sun's rays into the room.

"Acchan!" Naomi whines, trying to grab another pillow to cover the bright assault on her eyes but Ayane was already dragging her out of bed.

"No, you don't need five minutes when you mean 30 and might I remind you that it's 8:00 in the morning already?" Ayane remarks coolly, dragging her friend towards the bathroom and handing her a bath towel. "You have approximately 15 minutes to get ready and not be told off for being late."

Ayane's words seems to knock some sense into the dark-haired girl as she startles herself awake, murmuring a plethora of curses under her breath. Yanking the door to her bathroom open, Ayane winces as the sound reverberates and the shuffle of Naomi's movements become hurried as she pries the clothes off her body at max speed.

"Damn it, Acchan! You should've told me that first!"


Hayase Ichijou was humming a leisurely tune as he slices the rolled tamagoyaki and packing them into separate lunch boxes. Along with the eggs, the other compartments contained a variety of dishes: fried rice, karaage and cherry tomatoes along with slices of cucumber. Satisfied with his work, the 45-year old man closes the lid of both containers before wrapping them in cloth and laying them across the counter.

Thundering footsteps from the wooden staircase brought his attention and soon enough, his daughter Ayane, and his niece, Naomi reappeared from the top floor. Ayane was decked in an olive-green jumpsuit, her blonde hair slicked back elegantly as she shoulders a tote bag while Naomi was in a pair of cut-off jeans and an apricot-colored tee, her dark hair in a fishtail braid, while she pushed up her glasses so that they rested just above the bridge of her nose.

"Good morning, girls!" The man chirped happily, to which both Ayane and Naomi returned with a similar greeting. "Breakfast?"

"No time, papa." Ayane replies, an apologetic look in her eyes as she swipes their lunch boxes off the kitchen counter, handing one to Naomi who stuffs it in her backpack. "We're late."

"Oh, well then take these instead," Ichijou remarks, handing two thermos bottles to the girls. Naomi swipes the right one and yanks it open, inhaling the aroma of freshly brewed black tea.

"Oh my god, just what I needed!" Naomi gushes gratefully, placing the cap back to ensure the beverage stays warm. "Thanks, Uncle!"

As Ayane struggles with the straps of her heels, Naomi hops to the genkan, bringing out her trusty pair of sneakers and tying the ends with practiced ease. The older man returns to the kitchen counter, stirring the ramen broth he was preparing prior to packing the girls' lunch boxes.

"Will you be having dinner here?" Ichijou asks once the girls settled in their shoes. Ayane shakes her head while Naomi nods.

"I have to go to a drinking party with my boss," Ayane remarks, earning a stern glare from her father at the remark. "But I won't get drunk! I promise!"

"Oh, you'd better be, young lady." Ichijou warns her, turning to motion to Naomi. "Don't expect that Naomi will always be there to clean up after you! You even dragged her to danger because you were intoxicated, Ayane."

"Uncle," Naomi intervenes, shouldering the straps of her backpack as she offers both father and daughter a placating smile. "I'm sure Acchan's learned her lesson by now."

The blonde-haired girl nods fervently, making her father sigh and turning to give Naomi an apologetic smile. Naomi gives him a thumbs-up before she and Ayane finally exit the house. With a beep from her keys, the girls board a black Sedan, Ayane taking the wheel while Naomi settles in the passenger seat.

"About that drinking party…" Naomi begins as she and Ayane drive out of the garage. "It's a group blind date again, isn't it?"

"Keep it a secret from dad, will you?" Ayane laughs awkwardly before she turns to her friend with an apologetic glance, just as the car rounded the intersection. "They needed one spare person and I can't really back out of this one?"

Naomi sighs, cranking the bottle of her thermos open and chugging down a good portion of her tea. As the caffeine registers in her system, she musters a glare at Ayane. "This better be the last one, okay?"

"I promise!" Ayane nods, clasping both her hands above her head, effectively taking them off the wheel. "You're the best, Nacchan!"

"Acchan, you idiot! Keep your eyes on the damn road!"


Ayane drops her off in the next ward after 5 minutes. Lowering the windows of the car, Ayane looks at her concernedly.

"Are you really sure you're okay to go back to work?" The blonde asked, prompting Naomi to roll her eyes as she shoulders the strap of her backpack.

"Yes, I'm all set to go back to work." Naomi mutters, sarcasm dripping from her voice. "We've been through this with Uncle so many times already. I'm already nearing the end of my contract here, I can't afford to use up the remaining days off I have."

"You sure? 100%?" Ayane remarks, and Naomi nods. "Absolutely sure. Now go. You don't want to have your boss nag at you again, do you?"

"I'm just worried Acchan geez," Ayane replies. "Well if you're that eager, then, I'll be off!"

Naomi waves goodbye as Ayane speeds away. As soon as the black car disappears from sight, the black-haired girl sighs, shouldering her pack as she weaves her way through the pack of people by the pedestrian crossing.

The ward she worked in was a busier place in comparison to the other parts of Tokyo. In particular, the area was the center of the support industry, hence the daily influx of work orders and visits from hero agencies all over the country. Tourists, although a rarity, were sometimes spotted, touring the facilities and having free demos of the support items showcased by the different designers.

Carefully making a right after crossing the other end of the street, Naomi picks up her pace and settles for a jog, weaving her way expertly through the crowds. She dodges a group of men struggling with crates of equipment and steps to the side to make way for an irate-looking saleswoman who was passionately arguing with someone on her phone.

She slips through an alley—a shortcut—and upon emerging from the other side, was greeted by rows of buildings along an intersectional road. Naomi makes a quick left after walking 10 paces, finally spotting the pastel yellow roof of Ryuugen Industries, her workplace.

It was an upstart support company, mainly in charge of supplying support items for small hero agencies in Tokyo. The founder, Ryuugen Tamashiro, was a man who had a passion for creating inventions and propelled innovations for support items in the industry.

Naomi had started working at this company for the last two years. Quirkless and basically a graduate from a vocational college centered on machinery and welding, she had been left out of the more well-known companies as she was from a no-name college. Ryuugen Industries was the only one to consider her, but she was only employed as a contractual worker for the time being.

Naomi sighs as she walks through the entrance of the facility, sliding her identification card for entry and walking past the security scanners. Once she cleared, she made her way to the locker room, yanking her own compartment open and pulling out the standard issue grey overalls from her backpack before stashing the pack inside her locker.

"Yo, Naomi!"

She turns to the voice who called her name, a relaxed smile on her features as it came from a tall, lanky, ginger-haired girl with freckles.

"Hey, Koyuki." Naomi replies back, stepping into her work clothes and zipping the front.

"You're finally back!" The ginger-haired girl squeals before she attacks Naomi into a hug, lifting her slightly and twirling with ease. "I missed you!"

Though her appearance might suggest otherwise, Koyuki was a Quirk user, her ability categorised as a simple power augmentation Quirk that allowed her to lift things five times her size so as long as she takes in an adequate amount of calcium for the day.

"Y-yeah, I've been gone for a while," Naomi stutters, taken aback by the sudden lift.
"Uhm, you can put me down now."

"Whoops, sorry!" Koyuki realizes her excitement has gotten the better of her and she gently places Naomi back on the ground. "Are you really okay? I saw the news, it must be pretty horrible for you, right—"

"Don't bombard her with questions right off the bat, Maeno."

Koyuki winces as a clipboard was tapped against her forehead by a tall figure. Naomi looks up and bows in greeting.

"Morning, Asakura-san." Naomi addresses the newcomer. Asakura Chizuru was a dark-skinned woman with a heteremorphic Quirk, one that gave her panther-like features. She was more or less the one with the most experience and longest duration of stay in the facility and she was everyone else's big sister.

"You're all okay now, Takano?" She asks and Naomi nods. Chizuru's features soften before she pats Naomi on the head. "Don't push yourself now, okay? You can take another day-off. I know it'll take a while for the….mental and emotional stress…to subside."

Naomi's involvement in the Blue Haze incident wasn't made public, but Ayane had no choice but to inform her co-workers for the duration of Naomi's hospitalization. Chizuru, Koyuki and her boss, Ryuugen Tamashiro were the only ones to know of her situation at the workplace.

"Thanks for the concern, but I'm all right and well rested now." Naomi reassures her senpai, a smile on her features. "I'm ready to go back to work now, Asakura-san."

"Is that so," Asakura intones, her eyebrows furrowed together in worry, unconvinced at Naomi's words. The dark-haired girl plastered a smile on her face, hand reaching out to tap the factory manager's shoulders reassuringly.

"No worries, Asakura-san," Naomi begins, walking past the taller woman as she swiped a pair of working gloves and protective goggles from the shelf behind Asakura. "Today's production line is for the capture tape right?"

"Oh, yes, of course," Asakura regains her wits and glances at her clipboard, yellow eyes skimming the document for the production quota of the day. "Capture tape and some vehicle tune-ups from Normal's pro-hero agency."

"Oh, the hoverbikes, right?" Naomi queries, placing her glasses into the safety of her locker and securing the goggles over her eyes while slapping her work gloves on her hands. "Come to think of it, Normal-san mentioned something about the brakes and engines being in need of maintenance."

"Think you can handle it, Takano?" Asakura questions and Naomi grins in response, raising a thumbs-up at her superior.

"Well, leave it to me, Asakura-san." Naomi replies, before bowing and exiting the locker rooms. Koyuki shuffles worriedly next to Asakura.

"Will she really be alright, Manager?" She asks, and Asakura merely stares at the door where Naomi exited and sighs.

"Maybe this is her own way of coping, I guess." Asakura replies before she tucks her clipboard under her arm. "Just assist her for now, Maeno."

The ginger-haired girl raised her hand in a salute and straightens her posture. "Roger that, Manager!"

A small smile curls on the corners of Asakura's lips. "Well then, off to work we go."


Hours later, Naomi slides her working gloves off and frowns at the grime and grease splattered across her cheeks. Sighing, she twists the faucet tap open in the women's washroom, and begins to scrub the dirt off her skin.

As the water dribbles down the sink, she watches as it turns into murky brown as it went down the drain. Looking up, she glances at her face in the mirrors. Her skin was paler than usual, the bags under her eyes were worsening and her lips were chapped. Unlike her cousin Ayane who often took meticulous care in layering her face with make-up in the morning, Naomi was the exact opposite.

Give her an old PC CPU and she could dismantle it and set it up without wasting a breath. Give her an abundant amount of make-up products and she would just stare at it for hours. It was a miracle that Ayane convinced her to experiment with basic make-up looks.

The night at the club had been particularly troublesome for Naomi. When Ayane texted her that night, she had frantically pulled up and searched for an appropriate look for the club's dress code, but eventually gave up when it showed too many steps. She had experimented with bolder colors and applied more effort than usual to dress-up.

In her opinion, she didn't look bad at all. Heck, she looked passable enough to warrant a few stares thrown at her upon her entrance to Club Narcissus, after all.

Then the more unsavoury moments of that night followed and Naomi stopped her line of thought. Sighing, she reaches for the folded towel she slung across her shoulders, only to stop midway.

Glancing at her hands, she now noticed that they were shaking slightly.

"You okay there, Naomi?"

Koyuki's voice jolts Naomi back into reality. The ginger-haired girl stares at her, puzzled, when the black-haired girl suddenly flinches in surprise upon her entry in the restroom.

"Y-yeah, I'm fine." Naomi replies, quickly wiping her hands off with the towel and hiding them behind her back before Koyuki could notice their shaking. "I, uh, was just concerned about the bags under my eyes that's all."

"Oh, is that so?" Koyuki replies, her tone chipper as usual as she takes her place to the next sink beside Naomi. "You might want to try out the Tranquil Concealer. It works wonders for the skin and it's organic, too!"

Naomi forces a smile on her face at Koyuki's suggestion. "I'll keep that in mind, thanks Koyuki."

Her gaze then shifts on Koyuki's dress. She had changed out of the work uniform and decked into a flowy lilac dress. Her hair was gathered in an elegant up-do and strappy heels rested at her feet. "Are you going on a date?"

"A goukon, actually," Koyuki replies, touching up her eyeliner. "You should definitely come with us one of these nights, Naomi. You should get a man, too."

"Oh, it's not really in my interest now," Naomi replies, gathering up her things and self-conciously tugs at the hem of her t-shirt. "And I need to help out with the restaurant. Uncle's short-staffed and Acchan's working overtime, too."

"Oh that ramen shop," Koyuki hums, now reaching for a tube of mascara and applying it to her lower lashes. "Menya Hayase, right?"

"Yep," Naomi replies, finally undoing her hair from its braid and fixing her glasses over her eyes. She runs a comb lightly through her unruly locks. She spares another glance at the dolled-up girl next to her. "Well, I better get going now. Have fun at the goukon?"

"Will do~" Koyuki chirps, breaking out from her make-up routine to flash Naomi a smile. "Take care on the way home, Naomi~"

Naomi gives a half-hearted wave and exits the bathroom. Sparing a glance at her jeans and her shirt, she grimaces slightly.

Why do I feel like I've lost?


The meeting with the Alliance ran later than he thought.

Dabi scoffs into his glass of scotch as he watches Shigaraki exchange hushed arguments with Giran. Kurogiri was polishing empty glasses, but his gaze flitted towards the arguing pair in case it would turn for the worse. Toga and Twice were out, part-timing for a job Shigaraki told them to do.

"They're still at it?" Dabi asks, breaking the silence as Shigaraki continued arguing with the other villain.

"It appears so," The wraith remarks, pausing his cleaning in favour of refilling Dabi's glass once the scarred man emptied his fill. "It is a critical time for Shigaraki Tomura. He has somehow managed to smooth over the deals with the Precepts, so understand that he might be getting…impatient for results."

Dabi hums in reply and instead opts to swirl the liquor in his glass, the ice clinking against the surface softly.

With the fall of All Might and the imprisonment of One For All, the League of Villains have made their own alternative plans to take advantage of the loss of the Symbol of Peace. Shigaraki had somewhat achieved an unstable truce with the yakuza, at the expense of loaning out their own people whilst the remainder of the Alliance were to wait for instructions.

What a load of bull, Dabi mulls in his head. He glances at the wall clock in the room, eyes squinting as he tries to make sense of the time. Kurogiri notices his movements and answers his unsp oken question,

"It's 9:00 in the evening, Dabi." The wraith offers. Dabi lets out an impatient huff, rising from his seat on the bar counter, leaving his glass of scotch untouched. Placing his hands inside his pockets, he walks past Shigaraki and Giran.

"And where the hell are you going now?" Shigaraki asks, his argument with Giran put on hold for the moment as soon as he sees the figure of the patchwork male make his way towards the back door. "Because if you're going to cause more trouble, I swear—"

"Calm down, Handman," Dabi quickly pipes in, cutting Shigaraki's tirade off mid-sentence. "I'm more or less a sitting duck around here, so I'll just go. I'll be back tomorrow night."

"Wait you idiot, you can't just waltz your way out of here," Shigaraki hisses. "If someone catches wind of you—"

"I'm perfectly capable of keeping my actions on the down low," Dabi hisses out, his voice hard with contempt. "You don't tell me what I have to do."

Before Shigaraki could argue, Dabi walks out of the door, descending the steps of the hideout's location and into the winding alleyways that would lead him home.

He exhales a breath, his gaze lifting to the night sky as he breathes in the evening air. He reaches for a crumpled flyer he stashed away in his pocket, an advert for a ramen restaurant just fifteen minutes away from his ward. It was an old one that he saved from years back—he kept it with him because he kept forgetting the damn number.

His steps bring him to a small payphone booth just ways out of the hide-out. Stepping inside the cramped space, he draws the flyer out and dials the phone number. Dabi waits for the phone to ring three times, until a booming, jolly voice greeted his ears:

"Hello, this is Menya Hayase! How could I help you?"


"I'm home."

Naomi voices out her greeting as soon as she approached her uncle at the shop counter. Hayase Ichijou pauses for a while in filling bowls with ramen broth as he beams at his niece.

"Oh, welcome home, Naomi!" He greets and Naomi skirts around to the side to let her uncle serve the bowls to a waiting customer seated on the counter stool.

Menya Hayase was full house yet again tonight: the tables were filled with her uncle's regular customers ranging from tired and hungry salesmen, to members of a local biker gang, and even groups of foreigners. The restaurant's location was located near the busy suburbs of the ward, and people flocked for her uncle's signature ramen that was served at a very budget-friendly cost.

"Can I do anything to help?" Naomi asks, raising her voice over the hubbub of the crowd. Her uncle holds up a hand before he brings out his delivery box and a notepad filled with delivery orders to Naomi.

"Can you take care of the deliveries for me, Naomi?" Ichijou requests, his hands returning back to preparing ingredients and serving guests. "Hayato's at the hospital with a broken leg and I can't really step out now."

Naomi inwardly cringes. Hayato was the latest delivery boy that her uncle had hired. He was a former yankee that was unemployed and her uncle had the compassion to hire him despite of the background he had. He had most likely gotten into a fight to protect some civilian in the streets and had apparently messed with the wrong guys, a recurring occurrence.

"No problem, Uncle." Naomi quips, quickly darting towards the backroom and drawing out the shop's jacket uniform and placing it over her t-shirt and circling back to the counter to get the notepad and the delivery box.

"Just take the motorbike in the back," Her uncle quips, feeling for the keys in the pockets of his pants and tossing it over to Naomi who deftly catches it in her right hand. "There's quite some distance to cover, though, will that be alright?"

"Yep, no worries." Naomi replies, plastering a reassuring smile on her face. "It's absolutely fine."

"So sorry to ask this of you when you just got off your work," Her uncle apologizes. "I'll make your favourite when you come back."

Naomi's eyes lit up at the promise of a warm bowl of seafood tantanmen ramen. With an almost eager nod, she waves goodbye to her uncle and exits through the backdoor.

Boarding her cargo into the back of the delivery bike, she fixes the helmet on her head and revs the motorcycle engine to life, zipping out of their residential area and into the night life of Tokyo.


"This one's the last one, huh."

Naomi takes a glance at the address jotted down in the notepad. Her other deliveries were smooth transactions for the evening, save for one snooty man who complained of having her meal delivered late.

Naomi had managed to solve the situation by negotiating to a discount for the meal's payment, but not before the man complained that women always overcomplicate the simplest of things. Her temper was beginning to flare at his sexist remarks and she couldn't help but feel a small twinge of victory when the ramen soup—still hot—sloshed on the man's hands, making him yowl in pain.

Back to the situation at hand, the address brought her to a dingy and shady apartment building well tucked into the inner most parts of the next ward over. The time for arrival took her 15 minutes, and as she dismounted the bike, her hand rests to the company-issued taser she stashed into the pocket of the jacket.

This place reeks a suspicious scent, She mulls over in her head, her eyes and ears alert for her surroundings, just in case something jumps from the shadows.

"Hmm, let's see, it was unit 354…" Naomi reads from the paper, grimacing that there was still a flight of stairs she needed to take. Though her delivery load significantly weighed less than earlier, her arms were aching.

Shrugging and mentally steeling herself, she made her way up, her grip tightening around the handle of the delivery box and the other on the taser in her pocket.

Once she finally reaches her intended floor and going down the room farthest from the hallway, she heaves a sigh of relief before setting the box on the ground. She frowns momentarily at the peeling paint on the door and the faint scent of cedar and pine in the air.

Steeling herself, she raps three times on the door's surface, a ready smile on her face as she calls out:

"Menya Hayase delivery!"


"Menya Hayase delivery!"

Dabi rises from his couch, muttering a tired "Finally," under his breath as he padded over to the entrance of his apartment. This was his old hide-out, a place where he occasionally drops by to crash or sleep when his presence isn't required at the League's headquarters.

The building was located in one of the innermost parts of the city, an old building that was frequented by broke student-artists or college students on a loan, and he had taken the opportunity as well, taking advantage of the location and the residents occupying the complex.

Gruffly, he unlatches the chain that held his door shut and glares at the delivery person in charge of his meal.

"What took you so long?" He hisses in annoyance at the figure standing outside the door, and suddenly pauses.

Familiar grey eyes met his own sea-green ones.

What the hell was the girl from the Blue Haze incident doing outside his apartment door?


It's him.

Naomi's blood runs cold inside her own body at the sight of the tall, scarred man. His eyes appeared to be just as surprised as she was, and her mind finally surfaces with a ton of questions.

Why is he here? Is this a sick joke? Oh wait maybe I got the address wrong?

"Hey, you."

His voice shocks her back into reality, and she could feel her heartbeat accelerate at the look he was sending towards her way. He reaches out a hand, and for a moment Naomi's memories jogged back to the night where he razed people to the ground.

Blue. Blue flame. Charred bodies. The smell of burnt corpses—

"That. That's my order right?" He asks, his voice low. Turns out, he pointed a finger to the box Naomi tightly gripped in her hands.

"Ah, y-yes." Naomi replies, straining to keep her voice steady. Cold sweat was running down her back as her hands shakily reached for the notepad. "One shio ramen and a side of gyoza and mapo tofu, extra spicy."

It was a miracle her voice didn't waver.

The man nods and Naomi almost shoves the bowls into his waiting hands. Her eyes drift to the metal rings binding uneven patches of his skin together, but she catches herself and does the calculation.

"That'll be 800 yen," Naomi replies. The man says nothing and Naomi's hands linger to the taser in her jacket. Ready to take it out if need be.

The scar-faced man brings out a couple of coins from his pocket and hands it over to her. Naomi accepts the payment, willing herself to stay calm.

"Do you need a receipt?" She queries, her hands reaching for her pen and the receipt pad.

"No need," He merely replies, taking the bowls with him. Naomi drops her head into a bow.

"Thankyouforyourpatronage," She exhales in one breath, her sentence gushing out of her mouth in a hurried tone. Picking up the box, she starts to make her way down the hallway, back to her motorcycle, back to the comforts of her home where it was safe—

"Hey."

The man calls out from his room, effectively halting Naomi's steps. Cautiously, she pivots her feet just so she could catch his eyes.

"Yes, sir?" She begins, uneasy at how this will turn out. Is he going to burn me alive? I haven't even reported him to the police—

"Just so you know," He starts, pinning his sea-green eyes at her. Was it just her, or did Naomi sense a glint of amusement in his features? "I don't burn every person I run into."

Once he spoke, he closes the door to his room, a cue that their interaction for tonight was over. Naomi doesn't waste time and walks briskly down the hallway, loading the empty box on the back of the motorcycle hurriedly and revving the engine to life.

Once she arrives back home 30 minutes later, the restaurant was filled with less people and Ichijou was placing her favourite ramen on the counter.

"Naomi! Thanks so much!" He beams, spreading his arms and beckoning her to come and eat. "Here's your favourite—"

He stops, finally taking note of her ashen complexion and his eyebrows furrow in worry. "You look pale, is there something wrong—"

"Nothing at all, Uncle." Naomi quickly interjects, a forced smile on her features. "I think…I'll eat that later. I…am getting tired."

Before her uncle could interject, Naomi bows to him and leaves the keys on the counter, shrugging her jacket off as she hurriedly went upstairs to her bedroom.

She plops on her mattress, closing her eyes and willing herself to forget and wishing for sleep to come.

That night, she dreams of blue fire.


Author's Note:

Hello! I am sorry for this delayed update. I just finished with my internship the other week and I had been struggling to write this in between my free days, but it was so busy and I just managed to finish this yesterday. I've been catching up with the manga and needless to say, these recent chapters have shone a spotlight on Dabi so I am so eager for Hori to finally reveal more of his character.

Thank you for all the follows, favorites and reviews on the previous chapters! I am happy that you gave this story a chance to read.

I'd love to hear your thoughts on this chapter! Please do leave a review.

See you next update!