Chapter Text
It's a filthy, abandoned building at the edge of Kamino. Based on the smell, you'd guess people used to bleed here, used to fight and scrap for fun. Old, congealed slop stains the trim. Elsewhere, black mold feasts on this ripe, moist environment. Your kerosene spit sizzles and simmers on the mess. Any minute now, your boyfriend will return. Until then, you just need to wait patiently among the roaches and rags.
The door bursts open so you shove off of the wall and take to your feet. "It's about time," you purr. "I'm starving."
But your boyfriend is not alone. He's brought an unexpected guest. Dabi throws a duct-tape-bound, sock-gagged man in a red uniform at your feet. "Aw, Babe. Did you miss me?" he growls in return. "We'll have lunch soon. First, I just need some help taking care of a little issue."
His captive squeals and howls wordlessly, overwhelmed by fear.
This is not your idea of romance.
Dabi slams his victim on the top of an old table, laying him over the rancid, disposable plates and napkins. Flames flicker across his hands, and his fingers dig into the stranger's collar. "You really fucked up by not giving me what I wanted," he hisses, grinning and mad. "And now? Oh buddy. Now you're in for it. Do you see this woman? Do you see this absolute bombshell I have here with me?"
"Mmrr mrrmmr," the man says around his gag.
"She's gonna drown you in payback. Babe?" He holds his hand out to you, as if to summon you across the dancefloor to perform a magnificent, choreographed routine with him.
Reluctant, you sigh and sidle to him. "I thought you were going to buy food."
"I did! And along the way, I came up with a better plan and had to improvise."
You stare him down, but his blue-green eyes stare back unflinchingly. "Dabi…"
"Trust me, my match. If this wasn't important, I wouldn't have roped you into it." Dabi leans forward to kiss your neck. His staples and rough skin brush across your jaw. Simmering under your sweatshirt, but you shiver. "Fuel my fire?"
As always, you give him what he wants. You yank him off by his hair and try to kiss his cheek, but he snatches your jaw with his free hand and forces his tongue past your lips. Dabi groans and licks the gasoline off your teeth. There's some traitorous nerve on the roof of your mouth hotwired to the furnace between your legs. You struggle not to mewl.
He bites your lip and you slap him. Dabi chuckles proudly and stalks to the corner of the room, where he perches atop an old desk.
If he's having fun, he's either completely unconcerned or putting on a show to deceive this pesky mystery man. Weeping and wriggling like a worm, he almost escapes the table. You yank him back by the ankle, then draw a rag out of your back pocket. "I hope you understand, but I'm in a hurry here. If you could just tell us everything we want to know, it would go a lot better for all of us. Especially you."
You put the cloth against your lips and use your quirk to slick it with highly flammable, biological liquid. The expression of disgust on this man's face pisses you off.
Dabi notices, and he hucks a wisp of fire across the bastard's nose. "What's that look for? You don't like the smell of gasoline? Better get used to it fast. My girl drips with everything I love, and you're about to be drowning in her deadly fuel."
"Mmrrmr! Mrmrmrrrmr!!"
"You're damn right you're sorry," he says, spitting. "Babe, you go ahead and get startled. I'll handle the talking. I'll know when he's had enough."
You rip the tape and gag off the man's mouth, but press your rag down before he can speak. Once his face is covered, you blast him with your quirk. Only for a few seconds at a time, or you'll have a way bigger mess to deal with. This place smells bad enough without some bastard's panic sprayed across the walls.
"You like that? No, right? Being waterboarded is one of the worst forms of torture you can perform on a person. Being gas-boarded? Well, it's a new invention of ours and it hasn't been studied by all those monkey-suit scientists yet," says Dabi. He grins savagely. "But I have a feeling it's way worse. Thoughts?"
You lift the rag and give the fucker a chance to respond. He vomits and cries. "Please!" he sobs. "I'm sorry! You can take it all! Just take it!!"
You glance back at Dabi. "Take what?"
He shakes his head, dismissing your question, and speaks only to the stranger. "And what about the money?"
"I— I can't give you that! I'd lose my job! Or worse!"
"Pathetic. Babe, hit him again." Dabi rises and forces your wet rag down. Now that his victim is struggling, it's much harder to keep in place. But Dabi is deceptively strong. A task that would take you both arms only demands one of his hands. "What's wrong? You need a minute? Thirsty?"
"Seriously, Dabi, what is he talking about? What money? We didn't get sent out here on business."
"I know, I know. It's not business. This is just part of the date. You know how much I love to watch you work," he purrs.
"... What?!" You move the rag and the man's bound arms so you can get a look at the emblem sewn into his shirt. "Fucking dammit, Dabi! Are you kidding me?!"
"What? Why are you mad? Babe?!"
You step out of the room, slamming the door behind you, and whip your phone out of your pocket. With a few taps, you call Spinner, who answers on the second ring. "What's wrong? I thought you and Dabi didn't need to be picked up until after your date."
"The date is over! Dabi kidnapped the fucking pizza guy so he wouldn't have to pay, and then tricked me into gas-boarding him."
"Oh man… Wait, didn't Shigaraki give him pizza money?"
"Yes!!"
"I'll, uh… I'll be there in five."
He hangs up and you take a moment to pace and sigh and calm down. Parked against the building amidst char marks is a red scooter with a bag filled with fresh, hot pizza strapped to the back. It would be fresher, hotter, and in your stomach by now if your boyfriend wasn't such an asshole.
You'd like to say you can't believe Dabi would do this, but this is not the only date he's sabotaged recently. He emerges from the dreary, dirty hotel room with his arms out, gesturing confusion as if he doesn't know he's done wrong. "Babe, we were still gonna hang out after this! What the hell?"
"Don't you 'what the hell' me," you say and jab him in the chest with your index finger. "You told me we were going to go out on a real, actual, romantic date."
He rolls his eyes. "You're overreacting. This is still a good time. See? Free pizza, and a free bike!"
"No, Dabi. You can't take the stupid, red scooter. And you need to take care of the pizza guy— not by incinerating him !"
"Oh, come on! He's a witness to our crimes, and he's seen us and heard my name. It would be irresponsible of me not to kill him."
"Dabi!"
"Ugh… Fine ." He pivots on his heel and drudges up the stairs, back toward his kidnapping victim, just as Spinner pulls up next to you in the van.
The League's current beast of burden chugs to a halt. Spinner sticks his head out the window and looks around carefully before asking, "Where's Dabi? Incinerating the pizza guy?"
"He better not be."
Spinner cringes. "Sounds like things didn't go so well. Given the timing, I hate to ask… Could you put some fuel in the tank? The can is in the back."
You sigh. If nothing else, the League always manages to make you feel useful. "Yeah, I've got it." You circle to the back and fight the rusty handle. It swings open, almost clocking you in the face. You open the empty fuel can from the top and spit up a gallon, and then you walk to the side to open the gas cap. This is a big van, so it will take you a while to fill it properly. But it's better than paying, and safer than letting wanted Villains risk sitting at a station and getting ambushed.
Around the back and other side, you hear a series of jumbles and thumps. Hopefully, Dabi has taken care of his chore. You pour a few more rounds into the thirsty vehicle, then screw everything together and climb into the passenger seat up front. "That should get us somewhere," you assure.
Spinner casts you a weird look while he starts the engine. Weird because he has a lizard face and his expressions are tough to decipher, but also weird because it's not one he makes often. "What?" You ask.
He gestures over his shoulder, to the back. And then he focuses silently on the road.
"Fucking dammit, Dabi!" The pizza guy is once more gagged and still bound, now laying on the van's rubber floor. He cries and belly-scoots toward his scooter, which has also been tossed in.
Your boyfriend shrugs and sits on the delivery man. "I didn't have a plan to get rid of him safely, so I'm just going to hold on to him for a little bit. Don't worry about it, I totally have this under control."
"Why didn't you just pay him? You had the cash!"
"No I didn't."
"Shigaraki gave you enough yen for a large. What happened to that money?"
"I spent it on hair dye."
"What?! Why?!"
"Because you told me to stop borrowing yours!" He scoffs and sits back, crushing his victim. "See? I was thinking about you and everything. Plus, we get extra pizza this way. Win-win."
You face the front. You're grinding your teeth, and it must be loud enough to bother your driver. Spinner turns up the radio.
Five speechless minutes later, you pull up behind the bar and everybody files out. Himiko Toga races outside, skipping and grinning, to meet you. "Did you bring me anything?!" she squeals.
"Yup," Dabi proudly puffs. He holds his hand out to lure her over, and then flicks her across the nose. "There ya go, specially made just for you."
And then comes the knife. "You big, flaming jerk! I'm gonna cut your finger off for that!"
You stand back and sigh. "No, little sis," you say halfheartedly. "You know he likes the attention. If you stab him, he gets what he wants."
She pauses to think about that little paradox, giving your boyfriend enough time to walk around the van and retrieve the pizza bag. Toga hums in interest, sniffing the admittedly mouth-watering aroma of meat, cheese, dough, and spilled gasoline. "I'll give you one of these if you dissect and dispose of the delivery-dumbass for me," he tells her.
"Deal!"
"No! Dabi, I told you to get rid of him. And more importantly, I told you not to kill him !"
"No, you told me not to incinerate him. This isn't incineration. It's dicing. Huge difference."
You take the pizza away from him and hand the whole bag to Toga. "This is for everybody, so take it inside and share."
"Thanks, Medium Sis!" She makes a rude, tongue-out face at Dabi and then scampers into the bar.
Your boyfriend, having learned nothing and not listened to you at all, follows. You snag him by the collar. "You can eat after you finish dumping that poor pizza boy at the edge of town."
"Babe, come on. I'm hungry, too, and I need to think of a good place to drop him. I can't do all that on an empty stomach." He moves in to steal a kiss. You turn away. "I promise I'll take care of it after lunch. First thing."
"... Fine."
He heads in, leaving you to your thoughts. Almost. The kicking, weeping, unlucky man in the back of the van is giving you a headache. You slip around the side of the building so you can smoke and calm your nerves before the meal.
Twice is already there, mask slid half-way up his face and one quarter of a cigarette hanging between his lips. "Hey, buddy! How was your date? Nice? I bet it sucked ass ."
"The second voice wins this round," you huff. You dig around your inner jacket pocket for a thin, rubber box containing your lighter and your last joint. You were going to save this for a better occasion, but you're pissed off and you need something to help take the edge off of how shitty Dabi's behavior has been lately. "There's food inside, if you want it. Better hurry before everybody else steals your share."
" They wouldn't fucking dare! Aw, I don't mind as long as everybody feels good." He finishes his cigarette and puts it out on the wall, but lingers beside you for a while. "I'm sure whatever went wrong, it was an honest mistake. Dabi is crazy about you."
"If he cares so much, why is he always so inconsiderate of me?"
"I'm sure it isn't that bad."
"Jin, he cut up my old band shirts to make patches for his jacket. He uses up all of the hot water every night— even though he can make his own— when he knows I shower after him. Yesterday, he slapped my ass so hard, I couldn't sit down for hours!"
As if this day couldn't get any worse, your phone rings. It's your mother. "God dammit, I really don't like talking to her…"
Twice pops his lips apprehensively a few times, then pulls his mask down. "Maybe this will help. Good luck, buddy. Smoke up ." He uses his quirk to make your last joint into your second-to-last joint, and then winks at you as he sashays into the bar.
"Twice, you're a miracle worker."
"No, no. Fuck yeah I am! And you should all pay me for it! Now where's my damn pizza?!" Off he goes.
You let the phone ring to voicemail, but instead of leaving a message your mother calls you a second time. She's determined today.
You light your first joint and wait with trembling hands for this to be over. The fourth call doesn't have an immediate follow-up. The calm before the storm.
One new voicemail. You inhale that sweet, burning, stinging herbal smoke before taking the dive and listening.
"Young lady, where are you?! The apartment complex you gave us the address to is a charred lot, and I know you're still getting these calls. What is wrong with you?! Why do you insist on living like a sewer rat with those weird, crusty people? Come home . Look… I know I've been hard on you before. We all have. But this time, it's going to be different. Your father and I have been talking, and we even found a wonderful, wealthy young bachelor that's very interested in you. You're wasted living like a little… a little anarchist, communist, vagabond wastrel! I'll be waiting for you to call me back."
Standing cold and paralyzed with anxiety makes your muscles ache. You re-light your joint. To take an offer like that, you'd have to be pretty desperate. There's shaking hands with the devil, and then there's stepping willingly into his bear trap.
You smoke down to the roach, so foul you can't take another hit without vomiting, and then toss it down into a gasoline-spit puddle to amuse yourself. Zip! Up in flames! Do you feel better?
Better-ish.
That second joint might make it possible to get through the evening without coming unglued. You fiddle with your lighter and take one deep, satisfying breath.
"Mmm, that smells like my favorite diesel." Dabi snatches the joint out of your hands and rips at it. "Huh. Tastes a little weaker than usual."
You could kill him. You're thinking about it.
"What? Were you trying to keep this all to yourself?" He grins and blows smoke in your face. "Don't be greedy. I know you already had one."
"What happened to your weed?"
"I finished it yesterday."
But he sure as hell didn't share it with you. And he isn't sharing now, either. You put your hand out to silently demand the joint back, but he holds up one finger. One minute .
You hold up a different finger. Fuck you . "Did you at least take care of the delivery boy?"
"Babe, I have it covered. Damn, if you're that worked up and worried, maybe you really do need this." He returns the joint.
Unfortunately, there's almost nothing left of it. You swear, he burns ten times what he manages to actually inhale. You're fuming, but you hold your tongue and take the last of what should have been your joint.
"Once you're good, let's head in. Shiggy is up in arms about something and he wants a meeting."
"You mean 'up in hands' ?"
"Hah! Good one, Babe."
You give him the filthy, resinous remains of your joint and he's all too happy to light it up and suck it down. Maybe he has no sense of taste. Maybe your quirk has burned his tastebuds off.
Once inside the bar, you wade to a seat. Neon shimmers against glass. The television burbles in the corner, colorful and bright. But everywhere else is dim, and the members of the League of Villains gather like slithering shadows.
Kurogiri remains behind the bar rather than seated central for this impromptu meeting. "I'm sorry to hear your day hasn't been going well. I took the liberty of preparing your favorite drink. One Molotov Mocktail," he says, and slides you a raspberry-red margarita glass.
"Kurogiri, you're the best."
"Not at all. I'm merely doing my best to follow my directives." But he nods knowingly and also slides you a piece of hard candy.
Shigaraki drags himself to his favorite seat. He grumbles and scratches as he goes, and sits with his dirty sole on the freshly polished seat next to him. "I've got good news and bad news," he rasps. "The good news… What the fuck is that?"
Twice holds the pizza box open for him. "Pepperoni and sausage. Want some?"
"What's that green gunk?"
"Peppers."
He shoves the box away, and Twice shrugs. He silently goes to offer you what is, apparently, the last slice of pizza. At least your friends have made the most of this ruinous date.
"The good news is, Giran is in the process of finding us work. The bad news is, we— For fuck's sake. Is everybody here or not?! I hate repeating myself."
Dabi shrugs dismissively, having just entered from the side door. He forces his way onto the stool next to you.
Shigaraki glares at him for a while before taking a breath and beginning again. " The bad news is… we won't have an update until at least next week. So until we get a job or some other money coming in, everybody needs to watch their spending. If anybody has any ideas… Compress?"
The magician puts his hand down like a well-behaved schoolboy. "I have a great idea for a street act that I think would make plenty of quick cash! Here's the plan…"
You fail to listen to Mr. Compress's plan. Instead, you're distracted by your boyfriend. He takes a bite out of the slice Twice offered you, even though you're certain he's already eaten. Once you beat him off and gnaw on your food, he steals your drink and takes a massive swig. "Ugh. This has no kick at all," he mutters, and then pushes it away. The glass tumbles behind the bar and shatters.
" That's it !" you scream. You lunge to your feet and march across the room. " Enough is enough!! "
"Sis?" Magne approaches you with her hands out, offering a hug you don't accept. "Are you okay?"
"... No, I'm not. I'm… I need to step away for a while." You swallow hard and turn ashamedly toward Shigaraki. He's been a great boss, probably the best you've ever had. You hate to put him out like this. "You guys know me. As long as I'm having a good time, I can put up with a lot of bullshit. But I haven't been having a good time lately."
Dabi stands up and meanders to you, hands in his pocket. He seems perplexed. Maybe he doesn't get it yet. "You feeling okay, Babe? Twice mentioned your shitty mother was trying to call you again."
Deep breaths and balled fists. You steel yourself for this unpleasant conversation. "My mother is of the opinion that I can do better than this, and better than you. Dabi, what happened to us? When we got together, you told me you were going to help me burn down the establishment. We were gonna roast corporate CEOs while throwing back tequila, and burn down insurance buildings, and party on the fresh, shallow graves of our enemies. But kidnapping and torturing some poor, blue-collar schmuck? It's… It's pathetic."
He raises a brow. When he scowls like that, his staples get stuck on his teeth. "Is that what this is about? You want to hurt somebody important? Babe, we can go out and slaughter a mogel any time you want, even right now. You know I'm down."
"No, that isn't what it's about. It's about respecting me, and listening to me, and going out of your way to prove you don't see me as a doormat. And you don't do any of that, Dabi."
"What?! Yes I do!"
On the fringes of the meeting, several other members of the League hum, grunt, or cough wordlessly.
"Shigaraki, everybody… I really value all of you, and the kindness you've shown me. Most people just find me gross and smelly, you know? But all of you…" You sigh. This sucks so much, but there's no way around it. You're no good to them right now. You're too damn angry. "I need to go away for a bit. I have to step back until I can figure out how to be mature in the same room as Dabi again, and something tells me it's going to take a while."
"Babe?"
"I'm breaking up with you." You hand Dabi the gas rag from your back pocket. It's an old, greasey cutting from one of his shirts. At the time, you thought he was so sweet to ruin his clothes just so you could clean the oil off your lips. It doesn't make your heart flutter anymore. "Goodbye, Dabi."
The entire bar is eerily silent.
And then, the crackling of his fire. Your stained, white rag turns to ash. "What do you mean, 'goodbye' ?! I haven't done anything wrong! You don't have a reason to do this!"
You can't spare the energy to argue with him. You turn and walk away, the blue-hot glow of his flame fading behind you with every step. Dabi calls after you, throat raw, rage dripping from every word.
"You'll be back! You're going to spend one night alone in a cold bed, and you're going to regret this! Do you hear me?! I didn't do a damn thing wrong, and you'll realize it while you're crying in the dark, hugging your stupid, fancy, decorative pillows all by yourself! You'll be back and you'll be sorry!!"
You lean on the door to keep it shut and make sure nobody will burst through. The last thing you want now is to be caught crying. You dry your deadly tears and snot against your sleeve, which is so damp with fuel by the time you're ready to walk away that it might as well be shredded for rags.
Inside the League van, you hear the gentle thumping of the pizza guy, still having the worst day of his life. "God dammit, Dabi…"