I first saw him in a dream. I didn't think he saw me, but I saw him. Tall, with messy dark hair, and so, so many burn scars. I didn't even know his name, but my heart broke for the pain he must have endured from the flames that crackled around his hands.

I knew this was common, for soulmates to start seeing each other in dreams when their time was near to meet. I was excited, honestly, to meet the one who I'd spend the rest of my life with. I woke up and went to school as normal, or at least as normal as it can be, living in a civilization where heroes protected civilians with their powers and fought villains on a daily basis.

I'd long decided that the hero path, with its education at the legendary UA, was not for me. I'm a healer, not a fighter, and though my beautiful, angel-like wings allow me to fly, I'm not the type to rush into battles. So I decided I'd be a medic, using my combined quirks of healing and flight to help others.

While preparing for school, I braid back my shoulder-length, honey-colored hair from my face, then study myself in the mirror. There's a slight doubt in my mind about my soulmate, and my mouth creases into a slight frown. What if I'm not attractive enough? What if he doesn't like me? I sigh, turning away from my mirrored, light blue eyes, too searching in their gaze to be helpful right now.

I suppose I'm pretty enough, and I have a nice enough figure, honed from working out and just good genetics in general. I grab my school bag and head out the door, my mind still on the dream. Well into my second year of college, at a medical school in Tokyo, I started to have my soulmate dreams, an indication that my meeting with my soulmate was finally close at hand, but still perhaps as much as a year down the line.

Flying to school allowed me the quiet headspace to wonder about my soulmate, this tall, dark, and scarred man that I'd be sharing my life with. Wondering about his hobbies, hopes, fears, dreams.

I land in the designated area at school, fluffing out my wings and tucking them in so as not to bump anyone in the hallways, and head to my first set of classes, which take up the first half of my day until lunch. After being released from my least favorite class, I head to the campus dining hall to get lunch, not feeling like going out.

As I settle in with a small group of friends, I notice the news channel on the small TV in the dining hall, broadcasting the ongoing battle between a group of villains calling themselves the LOV and some heroes. This isn't an uncommon sight to see on the news now, but I startle slightly as I recognize one of the faces of the villains.

The villain named Dabi, the extremely dangerous one, with the cremation fire quirk, is the same man from my dream, and my soulmate. I try to hide my shock from my friends by a not-quite-faked choke on part of my meal, and excuse myself to the bathroom, mind racing. There's NO WAY that my soulmate is a villain. Sure, I'm not one of the heroes, but I'm a healer, not a fighter! There has to be a mistake, I probably fell asleep last night watching the news, and that's why I dreamed about him. I cling desperately to that hope, now hoping against hope that there's an easy explanation to all of this, and that the explanation doesn't involve the two of us being soulmates.

I rejoin my friends, managing to laugh off the thought and re-engage in conversation, but the worry sits in the back of my mind for the rest of the day. I move through my other classes in a robotic state, unable to fully focus, which leads to a reprimand from one of my favorite professors when I drop a bottle of saline, smashing it all over the floor. The professor, concerned, asks me if everything's all right, and I just force myself to smile, telling a half-truth about how I'm just worried about the villain situation I saw on the news. My professor doesn't quite buy it, from the look in her eyes, but she hands me a towel and some gloves to clean up the broken glass and saline, leaving the topic at that.

After my last class, I hurry home, not in the mood for going out, despite my friends' invitations. I hurriedly unlock the door to my small apartment, slip inside, and lock it, for once using the deadbolt. I manage to distract myself with reading and watching my favorite TV show until I nod off, late at night.

That night, I dream of a smoky, empty plain. I wander for what feels like forever until a large, rough hand grabs my shoulder, spinning me to face the person behind me. I jump, startled, and lash out with a kick, not registering the face or form of the person that grabbed me. The figure grabs my foot, my kick missing him by inches, and yanks my other foot out from under me. I hit the ground with a muffled 'oof', and, before I can react, the figure has pinned me to the ground, looming over me. I struggle in fear, then see his face. It's Dabi. I freak out a little bit, but he holds me firmly, looking more intrigued than aggressive. I eventually stop trying to throw him off of me, but the fear in my eyes is still clear, clear enough that he leans closer, expression oddly gentle. His voice is a deep rasp, a sound that runs invisible fingers through my mind and down my body, but it's strangely comforting.

"There's no need to fight me, little bird. I won't hurt you."

My eyes are still wide with fear, but I've stopped struggling completely. There's just something about him that calms me at an instinctual level, something that's tugging against my heart that I can't ignore. Dabi seems to sense my slight trust and sits back, allowing me to sit up. He says nothing, only watching me with an assessing, curious gaze that makes me feel like he's staring straight into my soul.

"So you're the one that's been watching me in my dreams" he rasps, eyes never leaving mine. Fear still has a tight grip on me, and I'm wary, but I nod. He chuckles slightly at my silence, but there's no malice in the gentle sound.

"What's the matter, cat got your tongue?"

I shoot a glare at him, sitting up and curling my legs under myself and my wings around my shoulders.

"I know who you are."

My voice, while I wanted it to come out strong, sure, and maybe just a little bit accusatory, came out as, well, less than that, uncertainty making it wobble slightly. Dabi chuckled, and my heart constricted at the sound, my body reacting instinctually as heat rushes to my core. He leaned closer, a small smirk on his lips.

"Feisty, are we?"

He grinned, showing canines that really shouldn't be as attractive as I found them. I blush slightly, scowling to hide it.

"You're a villain."

Dabi laughed at that, an oddly beautiful sound that I'd kill to hear again, before studying me with those turquoise eyes, and I look away. A moment later, I feel his hand on my cheek, rough and scarred, and he gently turns my head back to look at him. His expression is softer than I've ever seen it, and I reflexively reach up a hand to gently trace the stitches holding his scars together. He leans into my touch, still looking at me with those blue eyes, eyes that I know I'd never be able to say no to.

"You don't need to fear me, little bird."

I scowl, dropping my hand.

"I don't fear you."

Dabi chuckles, gently grabbing my hand in his own, larger one.

"Then look at me. REALLY look at me."

I, not wanting to back down, raise my eyes to his, the light blue of mine burning against the turquoise of his, a silent battle of wills, until I drop my gaze, eyes watering. Dabi laughs quietly as I rub my eyes, then tilts my chin up to meet his gaze again.

"You're more beautiful than I ever could have imagined."

The words are nearly a whisper, and I'm nearly sure I'd imagined them, but his hand caresses my cheek, thumb running over the small scar I got when I was four, the birthmark on my cheekbone, my lips. I'm entranced, barely noticing the blush that stains my cheeks at his words and his touch. He leans closer, our faces inches apart, but I find myself wanting this, wanting his closeness and the touch of his hand. My eyes flutter closed as he leans in for the kiss, but I'm rudely ripped away and out of my dream by the sound of my alarm clock.

I groan, blinking awake and hitting the off button, but it's too late. The dream's gone, and I, out of Dabi's presence, am hit by a massive wave of embarrassment. I'm realizing just how far I would have let him go, just how much I wanted it, wanted him.

As I roll out of bed, I imagine what his lips would have felt like. As I brush my teeth, my thoughts wander further, wondering what his lips would have felt like on other parts of me, his teeth, his fingers. Snapping myself out of it, I shake off the thoughts and take a very, VERY cold shower.