Hey everyone!
In my last note, I mentioned that I would upload the next chapter the next day - well, it's now around 3am on the 14th, so technically, the promise is only almost broken!
This chapter is a bit shorter than usual. Originally, it was part of the previous one, but I decided to split them since it felt too long.
Enjoy the sweet moments between Dabi and the protagonist while you can - I've got some pretty horrible things planned because, well, I'm a bit of a villain myself ( ͡ ͜ʖ ͡ )
Ayas POV
"Excuse me?" I asked, the disbelief clear in my voice.
But the heat from Dabi's grip on my wrists, already too hot, only seemed to intensify. "I asked if you two are screwing," he repeated, his voice carrying a dark undertone.
"No, of course not!" I shot back, my anger seething. Dabi's expression changed to one of blatant skepticism, as if my denial was just another piece of entertainment for him.
"I'm not buying that crap," he spat, irritation seething in his voice.
"Are you implying I'm some kind of... slut? Or how am I supposed to take that?" I snapped back, my own anger flaring now.
Dabi's eyes narrowed as he looked at me with a smirk. "How am I supposed to tell you?" He tilted his head thoughtfully before sneering, "You'd think so, yeah."
My eyes widened. "You lecherous swine!" I spat, struggling beneath him. If I had to guess, I probably looked like a squirming maggot under his weight.
"Well, maybe not a slut exactly. Sleeping with your boss doesn't necessarily make you one," he mused, leaning in too close for comfort again. "But I still don't like the idea. So are you two banging or not?"
"No, and if you keep accusing me, I'm going to lose it. Don't push me."
"Then he shouldn't be poking his nose so far into your business," Dabi said with a dark edge, his attention drifting back to my phone.
Exasperation drained my energy.
I sighed. "Aren't you going to let go of me anytime soon? You're too heavy and squeezing too hard," I complained, the moment dragging on like a slow, suffocating nightmare.
Dabi's response was a dismissive shrug as he continued to poke and prod at my phone. I knew he wouldn't find anything embarrassing, I was far more concerned about the safety and privacy of my contacts and our conversations.
"You're either really boring or incredibly cunning," he muttered.
Then his eyes suddenly widened. "Look at this," he hissed with barely contained irritation, "who is this Uraraka and why is he sending you hearts?"
"Uraraka is a girl, you idiot," I snapped.
Dabi's brow furrowed as he considered my explanation, his pout thoughtful. After a brief moment of hesitation, he finally asked, "Does she have a crush on you or something? Why is she texting you those?"
The question was so ridiculous I could hardly believe he was serious. "No, it's just something we girls do," I said, my annoyance rising.
"You females really are strange creatures," he grumbled, shaking his head in mock sympathy before returning his attention to the phone screen.
"You better take a good look at yourself before you start mocking us, you freak," I muttered from my position beneath him, unable to hide the contempt in my voice.
Dabi's eyes squinted with a mixture of skepticism and frustration as he peered at my phone, then back at me. "That's your secondary phone, isn't it?" he grumbled, clearly annoyed by yet another of his assumptions. It was as if he took pleasure in finding new ways to misunderstand me. Why couldn't he just get it through his thick skull that when I wasn't Crimson Blade, I was as exciting as watching paint dry? The woman behind this mask of 'macabre righteousness' was nothing but a shadow, a mere afterthought.
"No. It's not," I replied flatly, my tone as devoid of emotion as his face was of understanding.
He sighed dramatically, pushed himself off of me, and flopped back onto his spot at the coffee table like a man exhausted by the futility of his own suspicions.
"You really are a master of deception," he murmured, his expression oddly inscrutable for once. It was a rare sight, given his usual flair for dramatic contempt. He tossed my phone on the table, took a sip of his beer, and stared into the void of my TV screen with a look of resignation.
I finally managed to sit up, my muscles protesting from lying on the unforgiving wooden floor for far too long. I rubbed the back of my head, annoyance creeping into my voice. "Believe what you want."
Dabi just scoffed, his eyes flashing with irritation.
As I started to crawl back to my spot at the coffee table across from him, he unexpectedly grabbed my ankle, stopping my movement.
"You can sit next to me—I won't bite today," he said, his tone laced with a mocking casualness as he tugged at my ankle.
"I'd hate to do that," I snapped back, jerking my leg free and crawling back to my seat with as much dignity as I could muster.
"As you wish," he sighed, his eyes following my movements with a mixture of amusement and disdain.
Finally sitting down with a resigned plop, I took a hearty gulp of my beer, the bitter liquid doing little to wash away my frustration at the absurdity of the whole ordeal.
An oppressive silence lingered between us like a thick fog until Dabi's voice broke it, casual and piercing. "Aren't you going to introduce yourself with your real name?"
"You can keep calling me Crimson Blade," I replied, watching him take another lazy sip of his drink.
Dabi cleared his throat, obviously holding back whatever sarcastic remark was on the tip of his tongue. "I already know your name," he said, his tone a little more serious than usual. "But it'd be more appropriate if you told me yourself, considering I was polite enough to introduce myself to you," he said, his tone oddly sincere. Did this guy actually have some semblance of decency buried beneath his layers of arrogance?
"My name is Aiko," I replied, but his expression immediately turned sour.
"No. That's not your name."
I sighed, contemplating whether he was toying with me again. "My name is Sayuri," I said, testing the waters. Since our last encounter and that strange evening with 'Toya', I'd been wondering if they were one and the same. That would explain how he knew my address and which floor I lived on.
Dabi chuckled, a low, almost mocking sound, before offering his reply. "No, that's not your name either. It's the name of the whore from the Golden Lotus."
"So you admit you were Toya?" I asked.
"Yeah, I figured you'd catch on eventually," he said with a pleased smile. He fell silent, his gaze locked on me, waiting for me to reveal my real name. He had dug up more than I was comfortable with, and I wondered how this could come back to haunt me.
I watched him stew, letting the silence stretch until it was taut with tension before setting the next trap.
"Alright. My real name is Reina," I said smoothly, dropping the name of one of the prostitutes who worked downstairs. I saw the flicker of recognition in his eyes - a hesitation, as if the name poked something in his memory.
"No, that's not it either," he muttered.
Interesting. I pressed further, "Alright, I admit it, my name is Hikari." An ordinary tenant from a few floors down - nobody special, but she was bait.
Dabi crossed his arms, his gaze hardening, and shook his head. "Close, but not quite."
From his answers, I assumed he had access to the tenant list. Not surprising, but it confirmed that his obsession with control extended far beyond our little exchange.
"What about Aya?" I let my real name slip out casually, watching him for a flicker of recognition.
This time he paused. His eyes searched mine as if digging through the rubble of his own mind. "Yes... that could be it," he muttered, more to himself than to me.
'Could be?' What, was this a game of chance now? He didn't know my name at all, this whole act was just smoke and mirrors.
I leaned forward, my voice laced with sarcasm. "No, just kidding. My real name is Yok-"
"Enough!" Dabi snapped, banging his hand on the table with enough force to rattle the drinks. The outburst broke whatever thread of control I had, and a chuckle escaped before I could stop it.
"Show some respect and introduce yourself properly, will you?" Dabi hissed, glaring at me like I'd just committed some grave offense, as if I'd just confessed to cheating on him after a decade of marriage.
"First and last name, like a grown woman would do," he added, waving his hands like a scolding father. That sent me over the edge. I couldn't stop the laughter that spilled out, muffling it with my hand as I glanced away, my shoulders shaking.
Dabi sighed with exaggerated patience, shaking his head as though he had to deal with the world's greatest idiot. His gaze met mine, filled with an irritation that felt like a blade held just inches from my throat. "Well?" he drawled, his voice thick with condescension. "I'm listening." He paused, rubbing his eyes with the heel of his hand before muttering, "Damn it, I need a cigarette…" The weariness in his voice barely masked the simmering frustration, like he was one step away from snapping.
I could feel the heat of his impatience burning through the air, and I had to resist the urge to push his buttons any further. Quirkless, defenseless—I didn't have the luxury of making him mad. Not today.
I straightened up, forcing my amusement down as I cleared my throat. "Aya Kogarashi," I said, locking eyes with him, my tone flat and serious.
He blinked, then smirked, pointing both hands at me like I'd just told the punchline to a bad joke. "Shitty name. Fits you."
I clenched my jaw, fingers curling tighter around my beer. "And you? Your name isn't really Dabi, is it?"
His grin curled into something more arrogant, if that was possible. "Yes, it is."
I raised an eyebrow. "Just as shitty. What's your last name?"
"I don't have one." His answer was as empty as it was dismissive. That wretched donkey.
I wasn't going to let it slip. "Say it like a grown man," I shot back, mimicking the way he'd waved his hands earlier, mocking his patronizing tone.
His grin returned, the kind of smile that made you want to punch it off his face. "No."
The nerve. My eye twitched once again. He knew exactly how to push my buttons, and he took far too much pleasure in it. I took a long sip from my beer, trying to cool down as my gaze flickered toward him.
If it weren't for those horrible burns, Dabi would actually be... hot. The realization hit me like a punch, and it was deeply frustrating. It was the same unsettling attraction I had felt at the bar the other night - an absurd and misplaced attraction that gnawed at my nerves.
But, dammit, there was something about those savage scars. They adorned him like brutal, unspoken horrors, giving his otherwise repulsive charm a dark allure.
It drove me crazy. I shouldn't be drawn to this chaotic mess of scars and smirks.
Yet here I was, caught up in the sheer absurdity of it all. How had I become so entangled in this freak's twisted charms?
Dabi took sip of his drink as well, savoring the moment as if he were about to reveal some grand secret. "I bet you're wondering why I'm gracing you with my presence, kitten," he purred, twisting his hand theatrically as he spoke.
His mimics and gestures were a parade of mania, a testament to the chaos simmering beneath his skin. Dabis self-inflicted burns only added to the impression of a man teetering on the edge of sanity.
I exhaled sharply, pressing my lips together in a thin line before responding with mock sweetness, "Do enlighten me, darling."
"Darling?" he echoed, his grin widening as he leaned forward, eyes glinting with manic delight. "Oh, I like that," he murmured, his fingers idly caressing the sharp edges of his jawline, barely held together by the piercings he'd probably stabbed into himself.
After a moment of uncomfortably prolonged staring, he finally tore his gaze away from me, reclining with a self-satisfied clearing of his throat.
"So... what was I going to say?" he muttered, scratching his head in an exaggerated show of confusion.
"Why you're here," I said coldly.
"Right!" He snapped his fingers with excessive enthusiasm. "I saw on TV the delightful mess our little rendezvous at Nezu Park caused for you," he said, his voice dripping with sarcasm, as he fumbled in his coat pocket.
"And I thought I'd make it up to you," he continued, pulling out a pair of KitKat Matcha bars that he slid across the table with a flourish.
I could hardly believe my eyes. Where the hell had he gotten those? It didn't make sense...
A warmth started to spread in my chest, creeping like some forgotten ember catching flame. I hadn't felt anything like it in... what? Years? It was a warmth I thought had died out after that damned incident.
And no, this wasn't the alcohol burning in my gut. This was different.
It wasn't the usual nervousness either—the kind that turns your insides into twisted knots. No, this was something else.
It was the same suffocating warmth I'd felt when Dabi, as 'Toya,' had looked me in the eye and told me we were alike.
The irony clung to me like a bad dream—this freak, this deranged maniac who dragged me through chaos like a puppet, now had the audacity to make me feel... good? It was laughable, absurd even.
And yet... it was real. Or was it?
A voice screamed at me from somewhere deep inside, gnawing at the edges of my thoughts, telling me this was another trick. Another one of his sick little games. He'd fooled me before—Toya had fooled me before—so why was this time any different?
But... damn it, it felt good. Warm.
Even if it was fake, even if it was all a lie, it was more genuine than the hollow, meaningless pleasantries from everyone else.
This... this felt real.
Or at least, it did for now.
"What's the matter? Aren't you even going to thank me?" Dabi's voice cut through the haze, his head resting lazily on his hand, as if bored by the whole exchange.
I snapped out of my thoughts and blinked up at him. I'd forgotten he was even there, so lost in the memories that had dragged me down. "Sure... thank you, Dabi," I murmured, almost mechanically, my eyes glued to him without realizing it.
"So you like my little compensation, huh?" He leaned forward, the corner of his mouth twitching into a grin.
"I certainly do," I replied, glancing back at the two chocolate bars on the table as if they were priceless treasures.
"I don't get why you're so obsessed with those," he said, leaning in closer, his grin widening into something almost predatory, "but there's more at my place."
"My brother loved those," I said without thinking, brushing aside the last part of his statement. The words slipped out before I even realized what I was saying. Talking about my brother? I hadn't done that since he died. I had tried to move past it, but when that didn't work, I just learned to bury it. Now, of all times, it was bubbling to the surface again, and it pissed me off.
"I assume he's dead," Dabi said bluntly, his voice cold and detached.
"Yes, you're right," I sighed, a deep, tired exhale that carried the weight of years. Despite being a complete jerk, Dabi wasn't cruel - not in the way you'd expect. He didn't pry further, didn't press on the wound like I often did with others, and for that I envied him a little.
"You know, Aya," he said, with a peculiar, almost pained expression, "you're actually kind of cute when you're not throwing insults at me." His face contorted as if admitting that felt like chewing glass.
"Oh, shut up," I mumbled, irritated, as I tucked a damp strand of hair behind my ear.
"Yeah, I'm rambling again," he said, rolling his eyes with a sigh. "Look, this was just compensation, not an apology. I'm not sorry for what happened in the park," he clarified. His sudden shift left me perplexed, my confusion mirrored in my gaze.
"You really got under my skin back at the bar," he continued, leaning back and resting his palms on the floor. "I wanted to make you suffer in Nezu Park. I wanted to see you burn, you two-faced snake." He trailed off, his gaze drifting up to the ceiling as if the answer was hidden in the cracks above.
"I don't know," he continued, his voice quiet, almost reflective. "Then I just didn't want to anymore. Let's put it this way: I got bored. Got it?" His eyes snapped back to me, wide and manic, like he was daring me to challenge the absurdity of his reasoning.
I couldn't make sense of his words—his bizarre explanation slipped through my grasp like smoke. I nodded absently, caught in a haze of confusion.
"Got it," I said, my voice as hollow as my understanding.
"Good," he said, standing up with sudden decisiveness. "That's all I wanted to say."
"You're leaving already?" I asked, though even I was puzzled by my own question. Loneliness was practically my default setting at this point.
"Do you want me to stay?" he shot back, his tone holding a hint of reluctant sincerity.
My true inclination was to say 'Yes,' but instead, I mumbled an awkward, "Of course not, get lost," eyes fixed firmly on the table.
He chuckled softly, a sound that tugged at something buried deep inside me. I couldn't resist glancing up.
"I see," he said, making his way to the hallway. I quickly followed, curiosity outweighing my desire for isolation.
"Where are you going?" I asked as he slipped on his boots.
"Wherever I can engage in villainous antics," he replied, flashing a goofy grin that I had almost missed.
"And what exactly does that mean?" I asked, raising an eyebrow, half expecting him to launch into some absurd monologue about world domination.
"Ah, the usual mess," he replied with dreamy detachment, "a little arson, some random muggings, maybe a few explosions for good measure. You know, the classics."
I couldn't help but roll my eyes. "In that case, maybe you should stay a little longer." The words slipped out before I had time to think. A hero's desperation, no doubt. If I couldn't stop him due to my quirkless state tonight, maybe I could at least keep him from wreaking havoc by distracting him here.
Dabi finished lacing his boots and stood up with an exaggerated stretch. "Doing what?" he asked, his voice dripping with a perverted undertone that made my fists itch to meet his face.
I just shook my head in disappointment. I could feel the insult forming in my throat, but for some reason I couldn't bring myself to spit it out. Words failed me—a rarity.
He reached out, placing his hand on my head like I was some pet. His fingers tangled in my hair as he shook my head slightly, making my body move like a marionette under his control. "We could always pick up where your boss interrupted us," he teased.
I glared, but before I could respond, he pulled his hand away with a snort. "Just kidding. But seriously," he leaned down, his tone shifting into something far less playful, "I got into a lot of trouble because of you the other night. So do us both a favor and don't get in my way tonight, princess," His face was so close I could feel the heat of his breath, the threat hanging between us like smoke.
I blinked, thrown by the sudden shift. Trouble? Was it because he hadn't killed me in Nezu Park?
Not that it mattered. Even if I wanted to stand in his way tonight, it wasn't as if I had the power to stop him.
"You won't see me tonight," I said with a sigh so deep it felt like it might drag me under. He didn't get it, and that was perfectly fine with me.
"Good girl," Dabi said with a smug grin, both hands suddenly on my face, leaning in way too close. His breath was hot, too familiar, as if he belonged in this space, and I hated it.
"Cut the crap," I snapped, pulling my head back, desperate for distance. My brow furrowed, irritation boiling just beneath the surface.
He laughed, a soft, mocking sound that grated on my nerves. "Always so snappy," he said, releasing me but still lingering just a little too long, like he enjoyed the discomfort.
"Well then, have a nice evening... Aya," he drawled, casually throwing my real name into the air as if it were nothing. Hearing it from him felt... wrong, like he was holding something fragile and precious that he had no right to touch.
I crossed my arms, biting down the unease. "Mhm," I mumbled, my voice barely audible.
Dabi opened the door wider and stepped out. "I'll message you," he added with a lazy smirk, hand gripping the door handle like he was reluctant to fully leave.
"Please don't," I replied, the politeness of the words clashing violently with the meaning behind them.
Just before he closed the door completely, he paused, peeking back through the small gap with a mischievous glint in his eye. "Oh, and by the way... my real name was really Toya," he tossed out calmly before turning and disappearing into the hall.
Then he was gone, the door closing with a quiet finality that should have been comforting, but wasn't.
Instead, a queasy feeling settled in my gut, the guilt of letting a villain—him—into my home.
I should've felt sick.
And I did.
But beneath the sickness, there was something else. A perverse solace in the simple fact that someone had been here. Someone, no matter how crazy or horrible, had been in my space. The thought twisted in my mind, a bizarre comfort that didn't quite fit, but still clung to me.
Suddenly my phone buzzed. A message from "Dabi (heart emoji)."
I blinked. That idiot really saved himself in my phone with a heart emoji...
The message read: "*Toya (heart emoji) - but don't call me that in front of others"
Despite myself, a smile tugged at my lips. It was absurd. Ridiculous, even. But somehow it made me smile.
To be continued...