Present Day – Day 1
Asami groans as she gains consciousness, instantly being hit by a wall of pain piercing her head. Her brows tangle together, keeping her eyes shut tightly as she tries to figure out why she is in so much pain.
Did I drink too much last night? What was last night? Why can't I remember anything?
She tries to wrack her mind for the last thing that she remembers, but nothing seems to click.
She blinks her eyes open, feeling how heavy they are as she tries to pry them open and take in her surroundings. Once her eyes manage to open, they dart around the room, noticing that she isn't in her home as she expected.
Where am I? she questions when her eyes focus on a red brick wall. She groans once more as she moves her head, trying to gather more of her surroundings and answer the looming question of where she is right now and how she got here.
Asami manages to move her entire head, wincing in pain at the heaviness of her skull when her eyes land on a dark shadow at the edge of the room. Her heart races when she sees the shadow, only to have it step forward into the light and reveal themselves to her.
Asami's heart sinks when the patchy-skinned dark-haired man steps towards her with a wide smile that tears at the staples in his cheeks. "Morning, butterfly," his voice rasps as his eyes light up at the sight of her.
She gasps sharply when he speaks to her, lifting herself into a seated position as she frantically crawls to the opposite side of the bed.
He finds her fear of him laughable and his smirk just widens on his face. "No need to get cagey, little bird," he speaks in a condescending tone. "We're all friends here," he says with a tilt of his head and she notices that the man in the black and gray jumpsuit stands behind him.
"What is going on? Where am I?" she asks, eyes shifting to her body to see that she's still fully clothed in her emerald green dress from the Billboard Charts, and hasn't been outwardly injured. Her eyes land back on the two of them as they watch her curiously.
"You're in our safehouse," the black-haired villain informs her. "Don't worry, you're safe."
"Safe?" she returns with a rising voice. "You kidnapped me!" she yells at him, lifting up her arms to activate her Quirk, but to her dismay, neither react to their blood being manipulated. "What the hell?" she asks looking down at her hands with furrowed brows.
"Naturally I can't have you using a Quirk like yours in a situation like this. Thankfully a parting gift from Overhaul fixed that mess."
"Overhaul?" she questions with glistening eyes, still outwardly pulling away from him. "You're part of the League of Villains?" she asks incredulously.
He releases a humored scoff at her naivety with this information. "Looks like Number One never kept you in the loop with vital information."
Her eyes widen at how he could have possibly known she worked for Endeavor when she was careful not to tell him which agency she worked under. "I'm just public relations," she tells him with a shake of her head. "I just focused on his image not his missions."
"Well, you really had your work cut out for you with that flaming shithead as your boss," he smiles at her, his grin threatening to break at his staples.
"What do you want with me?" she asks him with a building frustration in her tone. "You clearly want me for something. Are you holding me ransom? Hoping that you can lure Endeavor into a compromising position?" she says, slowly lifting herself off of the bed to stand in front of them.
Dabi scoffs at this, shaking his head and finding the hilarity in her words. "You really think that flaming pile of shit cares enough to find you?" he says in a low tone that makes her shiver at his words. "He doesn't give a fuck about you," he says, stepping towards her and closing in on her face as she sinks her neck into her shoulders at his intrusion. "Don't fret, butterfly, I'll take good care of you. As long as you behave," he adds with a sinister tone as he brushes her soft cheek with his thumb.
"You still haven't told me what you want," she tells him with a hard-pressed glare to appear bigger than she is.
He chuckles as he pulls his face away from hers, allowing her to breathe again. "You're my bargaining chip," he tells her. "My insurance card in case a situation goes south, and someone wants to play the hero."
"What situation?" she asks.
"In due time, butterfly," he teases her as he cocks his head to the side. "Until then, you have to prove yourself compliant before you get certain privileges," he begins. "Bathroom's down there," he lazily points around the corner, "But if you want soap and shampoo, you tell us what we want to know," she opens her mouth to speak but he continues. "Refrigerator's over there, but if you want food, you'll keep your hands from retaliation."
He steps towards her and she backs away from him in an attempt to grow distance between them. He ends up backing her into the brick wall, pulling his hands out of his pant pockets and planting them sternly on her hips, dragging her towards him and grinding his body against hers.
"You can shed this sexy getup if you'd like," he grunts tilting his head in the crook of her neck as his hot breath brushes against her ear while he speaks lowly to her. "But if you want new clothes… well, I can think of a few ways you can earn them," he whispers so only she can hear.
She shoots her head up towards him, looking up at him as he glances down at her through brightly lit eyes. She plants her hands on his chest, feeling the staples through the soft fabric of his shirt before she roughly shoves him away from her.
"Fuck off, asshole!" she yells at him. "Like hell I'm going to do anything with you!"
"Then enjoy wearing that dress from now on, doll. I know I will," he winks at her as he places his hands back in the pockets of his black jeans. "We brought you some food, figuring that you'd be hungry since you dropped your sushi," he says and her stomach growls as if on cue. He grunts as he shrugs his shoulders, "But you broke the rules and pushed me away, so I guess you're not that hungry."
"Are you serious? This has to be some sick fucking joke," she frowns at him.
"'Friad not, butterfly," he says shaking his head.
Her eyes turn from his to the other man in the room who remains quiet. "You can't let him do this," she beseeches the masked man.
"Don't worry, Dabi's got a great plan!" he tells her excitedly. "It's barebones at best," he continues in a far less enthusiastic tone.
"Listen," Dabi begins. "I'll chalk it up to being hungry and adjusting to your new surroundings," he states. "I know how irrational you women get when you're hangry," he offhandedly adds as he chuckles and his lips turn upwards in a shit eating grin that Asami wants to punch off his face.
He pulls out a plastic bag from the refrigerator and places it on the small table near the kitchen. "This is your one and only pass. From here on, anything in here that we need to bring in, you earn when you endure," he tells her in a quickly turning dark tone.
"Don't think about escaping, because there's no windows, and the door only opens to us. Don't think about screaming because this place is soundproof, and no one will hear you. Don't think about fighting back against us because you no longer have your Quirk, and we will not hesitate to kill you," he informs her with such a sinister tone that it makes all his other words sound so sweet.
"This whole place is covered in bricks, and if you ever want to see another person again, you will behave yourself. Is that understood, butterfly?"
She watches him, wide eyed and disbelieving at the situation she is in. Why her? She isn't important. She isn't a Pro Hero. Though she works for the Number One, she doesn't know anything about his dealings or missions. She only knows what the public knows about him, and works to change that narrative to the one she wants to tell.
There is no secret information she can divulge to him or the League, that they would find important. And despite how much she doesn't want to admit it, Dabi is right; if she were to go missing, she can't say without a doubt that Endeavor would go looking for her. Beyond these last few weeks, he hasn't even paid her much attention, so she can't even say he would notice her being gone.
"Butterfly?" he asks with a cock of his head, seeing her mind is no longer in the room. "Answer me," he commands her, taking a step towards her. "I won't ask again," he returns in a darkening tone.
"I understand," she responds with a slight snarl in her tone.
"Good girl," he smiles, speaking to her as if she were a child. "Eat your food and we will come by tomorrow. If you behave, you'll get some clothes and soap," he turns to the man in the jumpsuit. "Come on, Twice," he calls out to the man who eagerly jumps behind him as they saunter out of the room without another word to her.
Asami stands there in the small room, mouth left slightly agape in shock as she's frozen in complete astonishment and disbelief at the circumstances that she's been placed in.
She can't help but dwell on the question of how the hell she got here, again noting that she is nothing to the League of Villains. She is a Public Relations director for the Number One Hero, but that doesn't mean that she does any fighting with him. She doesn't have any information about his missions or access to that information. She just makes memes and scrubs online forums of less than favorable comments being spread about the man.
She whines when she realizes that no matter how hard she tries to rationalize it, the League has decided she's important enough to stuff her into this tiny room, and she will be here for the foreseeable future.
Asami's stomach growls again, bringing a wave of nausea up her throat as she realizes how hungry she really is. She decides to table the conversation of why they chose her in favor of the food that was given to her.
The idea that the food might be poisoned crosses her mind, but she doesn't think they would go out of their way to kidnap her, only to kill her after they have her. She knows that for now, she is safe in that respect until they get what they want from her.
She unties the plastic handles of the bag, opening up the plastic container to see orange curry and rice from Sakura's. Her brows furrow at how they could have known her favorite dish, but she shakes the idea out of her head and smiles down at the food, quickly digging in as the smell invades her nostrils.
She happily eats all of her food, unsure how long she has been unconscious here, and subsequently how long it has been since she's eaten anything.
Once she is finished eating, she walks around the small 'apartment', if that's even what she should be calling this dungeon. The walls are all red brick, that makes the idea of escape a lot less achievable than she would like. She walks to the bathroom that Dabi mentioned to see a dirty toilet and bathtub with a tiny sink. She notices the black stains crawling up the wall, hoping that it's not mold, but figuring that it has to be.
She leans into the shower, turning the faucet to hear the rumbling of the pipes within the wall until the water viciously shoots out with a brown tint to it and the smell of rotten eggs. Asami gags on the smell, allowing the still water to run through the corroding pipes until it runs clear.
She notices that the water is freezing cold and figures that hot water must be a luxury that Dabi undoubtedly expects a handjob for. Asami takes in a deep breath, mentally preparing herself to start enjoying cold showers.
While waiting for the water to run clear, Asami inspects the bathroom for cameras, not putting it past that patchy-skinned pervert to have a spy cam or two set up in here to jack off to.
After a few minutes of searching for any camera and finding none, she notices that the water is finally clear and she mentally prepares herself for a cold shower.
She slips off her dress, folding it carefully on the toilet with her bra and underwear placed on top. She hesitantly steps into the shower and after a loud shout and vicious shaking from her body, she is able to grow accustomed to the cold water.
To her dismay, Dabi was not being an asshole when he told her that there was no soap or shampoo, so she merely rubs the water on her body and cleans herself as well as she can with a simple rinse.
Asami surveys the black stains on the walls to thankfully come to the conclusion that it is only mildew and not black mold, but its proximity to her is still jarring. She jumps out of the shower once she's finished, having it be the fastest shower she's ever taken.
She looks around and groans when she realizes that there is no towel in the bathroom. She was so focused on looking for cameras that she didn't think to check for a towel. She moves to step out into the living area, wondering if there is a towel around somewhere.
Asami questions if there are cameras in the living area that feed directly into that perv's spank bank, but she comes to the conclusion that she doesn't really have much control over that if there is, so she just has to endure for now, so she walks out in the living room completely bare.
The dungeon is a studio style apartment, with the only doors being to the front and the bathroom. The 'bedroom' is in the living room, and she learns that the bed she was sleeping on was a pullout couch and not an actual bed. A small two-person table is situated next to the kitchen, and the kitchen is more of a closet with little counterspace, a tiny sink, no dishwasher, and a small oven with a two-burner stove.
Asami sighs, figuring that she will not be cooking much if she relies on the League for food, so the kitchen doesn't seem to matter much. She turns back to the sleeping area, seeing there is no towel in the area and she will have to do god only knows what for that luxury.
She instead airdries her body, figuring the League is not coming back, and if Dabi does, he might be satisfied enough with the peep show to consider giving her a towel.
Once she is dry, she reaches for her clothes. She frowns down at her emerald dress, noting the dirt and debris caked onto it from the battle. The dress is filthy, but it's all she has. She slips the dress back on, now wishing that she wore something more practical to the Billboard Charts.
She cleans her underwear in the sink, wiping up the caked on cum from Keigo and herself, acting as a reminder that she's trapped in this hell hole and may never see him again.
She wonders if he will even notice that she's gone, or if he doesn't even care. He seems to be fond of fucking her when he's horny, but that seems to be the only thing she is good for. If she's missing, he might not even notice, and if she's not there to answer her phone for his bootie calls, he'll certainly forget about her and move on. The idea makes her eyes itch with tears that she doesn't allow to form.
She leaves her underwear out to dry and spends the rest of her day surveying the room for spy cameras. She questions if it's even day or night right now since she can't tell with the lack of windows.
Asami ponders how many days it's been since the Billboard Charts event and where Endeavor and Hawks are. They both looked worse for the wear after their battle and though she didn't see the end of it, she can only hope that they both got out of it unscathed.
She takes in a deep breath, bored out of her mind in the small room without even a TV to keep her company. She decides to get some rest and wait until the League comes back, wondering what all she will have to 'endure' to remain in Dabi's good graces.