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@Ru-kun | Ru-Kun ????

Hi yeah Mako-chan wants us all to be more active on social media BUT JOKES ON HER I 'm a hot mess and now everyone on the internet is gonna know it

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//

Oddly enough, this has ended up being one of the best views of the city that he's ever seen.

Izuku would have never known about it either, had he not just pulled the totally idiotic move of holding his idol 's leg hostage and forcing him to land them on it. And then had him promptly crush Izuku 's dreams and ambitions in life in one fell swoop. Hearing it from All Might of all people was particularly crushing.

He 'd really just thought ' that maybe it really was possible for him to be a hero. Even without a powerful quirk like Kacchan's ' or a quirk at all, for that matter. But All Might said it himself; heroes had to put their lives on the line and often have to go up against brutally powerful individuals in order to do their jobs effectively, and truly he couldn 't say whether or not it would be possible for an individual without a quirk to be a hero.

Izuku sighs, leaning his forehead against the railing. From this angle, he can see all of downtown Mustafu, and even the docks out in the faint distance, the abyssal darkness of the sea meeting the endless blanket of night.

He doesn 't know how long he must be up here, but at this rate his mother is going to be worried.

He props himself over the railing. Not to toss himself over or anything, really, just to see how far the drop really is. It 's a dizzying sight. Definitely the sort of drop that would kill on impact. Not that he 's thinking of that! Although Kacchan

did

tell him to just throw himself off a building and hope to be reborn in his next life with a quirk '

He 's shocked out of his idle musings by a startling

slam

of metal hitting concrete.

Izuku leaps back as if struck, sprawling back on the roof with a gasp.

Feeling like he 'd just gotten the life scared out of him, he turns around to see he 's no longer alone up here.

A lanky boy in that ambiguous age of not-really-a-teenager but not-really-an-adult stands at the mouth of the open doorway, a bag of takeout in his hands. He 's wearing impenetrably dark sunglasses in the middle of the night, dressed casually in a hoodie with a flashy windbreaker tossed over it, ripped dark jeans and trendy sneakers. He pushes his sunglasses up into his riot of shockingly white hair when he realizes he has company, and smiles.

'Oh-ho! So someone else has found the best view of the city, huh? ' He saunters forward, swinging the bag around in his hands.

'Um ' I ' I 'm sorry, I didn 't mean to intrude ' '

'Nonsense! It 's not like it 's

my

roof or anything. ' The guy laughs. 'But isn 't it a little late for a kid your age to be out like this? '

'Uh ' ' Izuku scrambles for his phone to see the time, before realizing it had died ages ago during the villain attack.

'Hey, hey, don 't sweat it. I won 't tell if you don 't! ' He winks, then sprawls out on the floor next to Izuku, leaning back against the railing. 'Want any? '

He pries open the bag, revealing ' a truly insane amount of takeout.

Izuku boggles at it. How can someone so skinny possibly intend to eat this much food in one sitting? Izuku hopes he 'd meant to leave some for leftovers. He doesn 't recognize the name of the restaurant, but from what he can see of the containers it looks to be Korean.

'Help yourself, there 's no way I can eat all this! ' He says, and then promptly ignores all of the perfectly reasonable dinner food and reaches for a red bean bun instead.

"Is ' is that really okay?" He asks, hesitantly, because no one has ever just ' sat down next to him of their own volition and offered to share a meal with him. It feels like the sort of thing someone like him isn't allowed to experience.

But the guy just waves a hand. "Have at it!"

'Oh! Um, well, if you're sure '" He trails off anxiously. "T ' Thanks ' ' Come to think on it, Izuku doesn 't think he 's eaten anything since lunch.

His companion just makes a dismissive noise around his bun, waving off his thanks and gesturing at the takeout. He seems content to look out into the dazzling sea of city lights in silence as he eats his dessert, and Izuku honestly has no idea what to say. He has no idea what to do in this kind of situation; it 's not like he really has any friends he hangs out with, let alone eats dinner with. What do people usually talk about like this? The only person he ever eats dinner with is his mom.

But his companion doesn 't seem all that interested in small talk, so Izuku just lets it be, even if he does tend to find silences unnerving.

'So, what are you doing out here anyway, kid? ' The other asks finally, after he 's finished his bun. 'I come to this spot fairly often, but I 've never seen you around. '

Izuku freezes, feeling put on the spot, a mouthful of bulgogi hovering in front of him. 'I ' '

How exactly is he supposed to explain he sort of got stranded here after he idiotically accosted the Number One Hero just to ask him an assortment of inane questions? And then he just didn 't leave at a rational hour because he was too busy trying to come to terms with the idea that he was forever going to be the useless and worthless Deku?

'What do you think of heroes? '

This gives his companion pause. The older boy stares at him blankly, and Izuku makes the ill-advised decision of meeting his gaze. Up close, those eyes are not just a startling shade of blue, but a prism as variegated as a galaxy.

'Hm, what do you mean by that? '

Izuku blinks rapidly, tearing his gaze away from the stupefying sight. He takes a deep breath, then stutters out:

'Well ' do you think you need a quirk in order to be a hero? '

The other boy doesn 't even miss a beat. 'No, not at all. '

Izuku gapes at him, shocked. 'R ' Really? '

'Of course, ' he says, totally nonchalant, as if he hadn 't just said something world-changing.

Life-changing.

He reaches back into the bag and unearths another sweet bun.

'A hero, in essence, is someone of exemplary character and courage who embodies the human capability for kindness and compassion. The stalwart guardian and defender of those who can 't do it themselves. Quirks have nothing to do with it. You feel me? '

Izuku 's brows crease. Not really. 'Um ' '

The white-haired stranger stuffs half the bun in his mouth. 'What 's your name, kid? '

Taken aback by the sudden change in subject, Izuku replies haltingly: 'M 'Midoriya. Midoriya Izuku. '

'Right, okay then, Midoriya, listen. ' He leans closer. 'The path of the righteous man is beset on all sides by the inequities of the selfish and the tyranny of evil men. Blessed is he who, in the name of charity and goodwill, shepherds the weak through the valley of darkness, for he is truly his brother 's keeper and the finder of lost children. '

Izuku stares blankly at him.

The other boy stares back. 'Ezekiel 25:17, Jules Santana? Tarantino? Really? Nothing? '

At Izuku 's non-reaction, he sighs grandly and flops back against the railing.

'Ahh, nevermind. Should have known that would be too good for this world. Look, my point is that a true hero is someone who helps others in their time of need, out of the goodness of their heart, without expecting anything in return. It 's more than just punching some bad guy in the face on live TV. And you don 't need a quirk to be that person. ' The white-haired boy snorts. 'Actually, you need something a hell of a lot more rare than a quirk. '

'Really? ' Izuku asks, stunned. 'What 's that? '

'A good heart, ' he says, simply.

Izuku leans back, feeling overwhelmed. His hands shake so badly he has to set his takeout container down. He stares down at them in his lap, trembling. They look so normal and unremarkable, small and unworthy. Quirkless. Could he really ' could it be that All Might, the Number One Hero, his personal idol, was wrong? Could that really be true?

'So I can really ' ' He murmurs to himself.

He looks up. 'Do you think I can be a hero? Even if ' even if I 'm quirkless? '

The boy blinks, looking surprised. But he doesn 't immediately dismiss the question. He digs into the bag again, hand returning with a bottle of peach ramune. He offers one to Izuku, but Izuku declines. He doesn 't think he could possibly stomach all that sugar right now, but evidently his new companion doesn 't share the same reservations.

'Well, honestly I don 't know you well enough to say, ' he admits, truthfully. 'But I also don 't think you can be discounted purely on account of not having a quirk. So what if you don 't have one? That doesn 't make you any less capable of helping or protecting others. Frankly, I think people ' and heroes especially ' rely

way

too much on quirks, to the point it becomes a crippling weakness. '

'You ' you really think so? ' Izuku asks, eyes wide.

'Oh, definitely. ' He snaps the ramune open with a satisfying

pop.

'Listen, I don 't even need my quirk or techniques to take out most of the people I fight with. Their hand to hand almost always ends up being terrible, and I 'm just faster and quicker on my feet than most people. '

(Gojo neglects to mention he rarely uses his 'quirks ' ' both his blue flames and his limitless techniques ' because they both cause untold levels of death and destruction and are usually overkill for any situation.)

Izuku 's eyes grow even wider. 'You fight people without a quirk? ' He asks, shocked. 'But what do you do when they use

their

quirk to fight you? Is that really possible? '

His companion laughs. 'I find your lack of faith disturbing, young padawan. '

'Padawan '? '

'Listen, a fight is a fight. A quirk is just another tool in someone 's arsenal, but there 's plenty of other weapons to use, first and foremost your own brain. And there are plenty of heroes who don 't have a physical quirk that gives them an advantage in battle. It 's really not the be all end all. '

Izuku thinks over his words quietly.

They 're incredibly relieving to hear, like a balm for his soul. And what he said is true; Izuku knows plenty of heroes that don 't have some flashy and powerful quirk that can still go toe to toe with highly dangerous criminals. Hearing it from someone else makes him feel like there really might just be hope for him. And the other boy is right, anyway ' being a hero isn 't actually about fighting at all. It 's true that 's what makes heroes popular, that it 's the daring rescues and the epic fights that get televised, but at the end of the day being a hero is a mindset. It 's the dedication to go out there every day and help others even at the risk of your own life.

And while Izuku has always wanted to be the best hero, maybe being the Number One in rankings isn't the same thing as being 'the best'. Maybe being the best means being the person who saves people regardless of rankings.

A small smile spreads over his face.

Maybe he can really be a hero after all.

//

@Ru-kun | Ru-Kun ????

Haven't fucked anything up yet today but that's never stopped me before!!!

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//

Gojo eyes the boy across from him idly over the rim of his drink.

He didn 't know what to expect when he first teleported onto the roof, only to find it occupied. This was one of his favorite haunts in the city, a frequent roost for his terrible chain smoking habit and just a generally good secluded spot to see some of the best views of the city. It 's also something of a special landmark for him; it 's the same roof he 'd teleported to when he dropped Shouto off at the hospital all those years ago, watching silently as EMTs fretted over his little brother 's injured form, and making the executive decision to get the hell out of Enji 's house and leave them all behind.

It 's not that he hates them, or anything, or even as if he doesn 't think on them every once in a while. He kept one of his Six Eyes on the house almost constantly during the first few years after he left, and Endeavor never laid a hand on Shouto again. In fact, he went out of his way to avoid Shouto as he did the rest of Gojo 's remaining siblings, and that was good enough for Gojo. As for Rei... well, she was better off where she was now.

These days he still stops by every once in a while, watching from a vantage high up in one of the backyard pines, just observing them with his Six Eyes. They 're all in good health, physically anyway, and while the odd layer of energy Gojo has come to know as the quirk factor grows steadily in Shouto, it 's at a normal clip.

He 'd popped over earlier in the evening, a quick stop over before he teleported to one of his favorite Korean restaurants for takeout. They had the

best

soy garlic pork in the city,

and

they also had a bakery. Gojo would have happily married the owner just for continuous access to this mortal heaven, but she was a happily married grandmother of ten and clearly had better standards.

After that he 'd teleported straight onto the roof, shocked to see a boy directly in front of him. He was standing on the rungs of the railing, peering over the side. Even with the power of his Six Eyes it was impossible to tell what he was thinking, but he hysterically hoped he wasn't intending to jump.

Gojo decided the easiest way to approach this situation was probably

not

to just teleport straight behind him, but instead announce his presence like a regular human being, with a door or something.

That might have backfired a bit, as he 'd underestimated the wind and ended up slamming the roof door into the concrete loud enough to shock someone back from death.

In the end, he 's happy he didn 't just decide to forego the rooftop entirely and take his takeout back to his hotel. Midoriya seems like a good kid, somewhat timid and skittish but with an earnest heart of gold.

He tries very hard not to make any comparisons to any other young people he 'd known like that, the thought too painful to stomach.

Midoriya seems to be yet another poor soul suffering under society 's prolific obsession with the hero industry complex, completely swept away with ideals of the standard industry hero. Gojo, having an up close and personal experience with just how rotten the industry really is already, would know just how toxic that standard really is. Privately, he thinks Midoriya shouldn 't become a hero because he 's really too good for the profession. Gojo has met plenty of heroes in his tenure as one of the city 's most wanted villains, and most of them leave way too much to be desired. The worst of them are ones like Endeavor, too focused on their own ambitions of grandeur, on rankings and pure power, to remember what the actual goal of heroism is. But the majority of them are just cogs in the wheel, swept up in the deceptive delusion without ever realizing they 're only proliferating the problem.

That isn 't to say there aren 't

real

heroes out there too, earnestly trying to help keep the peace. But they 're certainly the exception, not the rule.

He asks Midoriya about his life, peppering him with questions as they finish up the takeout.

The younger boy skirts around the subject of his school and his friends, but is plenty eager to talk about his love for heroes and especially quirks. The kid is probably a wellspring of valuable information, even if he doesn 't realize it. That sort of in-depth analysis on the strengths and weaknesses of quirks could be deadly in the wrong hands. He asks him a bit more about his dreams of becoming a hero, and what he 's done so far to achieve that.

Midoriya looks surprised and a bit sheepish when Gojo asks him if he 's considered joining a dojo or self-defense class, acknowledging that he should probably focus a lot more on his physical strength if he truly intends to become a hero.

'Thanks so much for this, ' Midoriya says, as they 're finishing up. 'I ' I really kinda needed this. '

Gojo displays tact for once in both of his lives, and doesn 't pry. 'No problem kid. Thanks for the company. '

'I 'm definitely going to take your advice about the training, ' the green-haired boy adds. 'And your advice about heroes and quirks and stuff ' I 'll definitely be thinking a lot about that too. '

Gojo grins. 'Happy to be of service! '

Midoriya neatly stacks up their empty boxes and packages it back up in the takeout bag. 'Yeah, you know, you really seem to know your stuff ' '

He looks up then, eyes big. 'Hold on, are

you

a hero? '

Gojo can 't help it.

He tosses his head back and

laughs.

Like he hasn 't in years. He laughs so hard he 's in tears.

Then he gets up and pats the dust off his pants, swiping the bag full of their trash and swinging it around his finger. He wipes tears from his eyes. Midoriya watches him with a bemused expression.

'Hero? '

Gojo repeats, shaking his head with a wide grin. 'Kid, I 'm the fucking

villain

of this story. '

Midoriya 's mouth drops open.

'Anyway, good talk! Follow your dreams, kid! '

He throws him a peace sign, then teleports out.

//

@Ru-kun | Ru-Kun ????

Hi, thanks for checking in, I 'm still a piece of garbage?

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//

Evidently

someone

at the police precinct actually knows what they 're doing, because no one tries to assassinate him in the middle of the night for being the narc on a secret villain meeting.

Gojo snorts.

A secret villain meeting. Seriously. Every once in a while, the absurdity of this world just hits him smack in the face. The fact that 's even a thing just blows his mind. He gets they 're all, like, legitimately dangerous people that do bad things and all, but he still can 't help but hear 'villains' and think of them all as a bunch of different colored Skeletors cackling in a circle.

Anyway, he happens to actually really like Makoto, so he swings by the precinct just to make sure that brother of hers is still alive and kicking. And he might have felt a

little

bad about maybe leading some poor cattle for slaughter straight to their demise via gatecrashing a murderous meetup party, especially when Gojo could have gotten the same information without putting anyone ' in mortal peril.

It 's funny. He spends so much time ridiculing heroes in this world, and yet he still has quite a few obnoxiously heroic tendencies himself that he hasn 't quite managed to shake.

Is it

really

heroism though, he wonders? Like he 'd told that Midoriya kid, being a real hero is when you put your life on the line so others don 't have to ' Gojo very rarely, if ever, encounters situations where his life is actually on the line. Mainly because there are so few ' and in this world, none thus far ' capable of threatening his life to begin with.

Detective Tsukauchi seems to be whole and in relatively good health, from what his Six Eyes can tell. His bodily functions are working as they should, his quirk factor is strong, and he seems to be pacing up and down his office in a pique of irritation, if his blood pressure is anything to go by.

He pushes off the railing of the corner balcony facing the precinct, satisfied with the information he gleans. He stretches his arms out, mentally browsing through his to-do list for the night. There are plenty of things he should do, and none of them currently hold any appeal.

He 's debating the merits of ignoring all of his responsibilities and instead checking out that new owl cafe, when a familiar presence enters his awareness.

Gojo finds himself interested enough in the individual to stay where he is and let them come to him.

The figure lingers just in what should technically be his blindspot, if he actually needed to use his visual sight to be aware of the world around him, and Gojo props his elbows on the railing and just waits for them to speak first. In the interim, he takes a moment to let the information on the individual he receives from his Six Eyes wash over him.

Pro hero: Eraserhead.

In moderately good health, probably should do something about his egregious sleep schedule though, those eyebags are intense. Adult male likely in his young thirties. Quirk energy pools around his eyes, his quirk not currently active, but ready to be called on at a moment's notice. Visually, he still looks as homeless as he did the last time Gojo saw him.

He takes his time to observe Gojo in a similar manner. Gojo 's happy to let him.

Finally, he speaks.

'You know, we have a tip line for a reason. '

'I thought I 'd be nice and bring a treat along with the tip. '

'And just casually dismantle all the CCTV cameras while you were at it? Thanks. ' The pro hero returns, dryly.

Gojo throws up a peace sign. "But now you know where all the weaknesses are, right? And some of those needed to be replaced anyway. Win-win for everyone!"

Eraserhead just sighs, looking incredibly put upon.

It's just his lot in life that

he

ends up being the one who keeps making contact with the elusive Dabi, isn't it? Eraserhead is an underground hero, which means he usually ends up running the gamut of all miscellaneous and odd jobs that spotlight heroes never have to bother with. One of those is toeing the fine line between mercurial underworld diplomacy and the unyielding word of the law. The fact of the matter is, Dabi can either be classified as a murderous vigilante at best or a ruthless villain at worst, but the distinction is meaningless in the eyes of the law. He goes to Tartarus if he's caught either way.

But that sort of black and white mentality never survived actual contact with the streets: Eraserhead has met plenty of villains who operate in a morally ambiguous grey area that's hard to consider either purely good or purely evil. Just as he's met plenty of heroes who only eschew criminal charges by virtue of their licenses. Part of his job is finding the difference between the two, and exploiting it. Society these days rarely likes to acknowledge it, but there really is such a thing as a 'lesser evil'.

He's not entirely certain where Dabi lands on this scale. Frankly, they just don't know enough about him to decide.

It's a risk to meet him like this, but Aizawa thinks the ends justify the means in this instance.

"We have a couple more questions about the case, if you'd be willing to answer them."

"I mean, you can ask, but I can't guarantee I'll answer!" Dabi replies, cheerfully.

Aizawa hadn't expected it to be that easy. He squints at the young man; is this a trap?

"Would you be willing to talk to a detective about it?"

Dabi grins. "Sure, but not at the station. The lighting is terrible!"

Aizawa probably should have expected that. Criminal informants are paranoid and sketchy by nature ' not a single one of them in their right mind would willingly walk into a precinct full of officers with the means and the will to arrest them. Not that he thinks an entire building full of officers would be enough to deter a character like Dabi.

'Do you have a better suggestion? ' Aizawa sighs.

Dabi taps his chin. 'Wellll, I was thinking of going to that new owl cafe ' the one off of Ryloth station ' '

He shakes his head. 'There 's no way that 's open at this hour. '

Dabi pouts. It 's a ridiculous sight.

He can 't believe he 's suggesting this, but '

'... How about a cat cafe? '

//

@Ru-kun | Ru-Kun ????

Did you know taco cat backwards is still taco cat

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//

Naomasa looks hilariously uncomfortable with the fluffy tabby rubbing against the legs of his slacks beneath the table. He keeps giving it a wary look, as if expecting it to leap directly for his face. Instead the furry creature just continues to purr and leave fur all over his calves. He 's never been overly fond of cats, because they 're the sort of creature that 's impossible to predict. They do what they want, when they want to, and they just expect the entirety of the human race to accept this as their due.

' A lot like the individual in front of him, come to think of it.

'It 's delicious! ' Dabi enthuses, as he takes a sip out of his latte. Naomasa fights not to cringe at the sight; he 'd just watched the villain put at least five packets of sugar into the already overly sweet machine coffee.

Both Naomasa and Eraserhead observe the criminal with increasing concern and bewilderment as he makes himself right at home in front of two people who should by rights be attempting to incarcerate him right now, trying and failing to make friends with all the furry felines roaming about. They all give him a wide berth; predators recognizing the greater threat and keeping a cautious distance. If only he and Eraserhead had the luxury of a tactical retreat like that.

The information Dabi had given them had been the first and only lead they 'd gotten on 'The Emperor of Darkness ', All for One himself, since Toshinori 's fight. Underground Hero Echo had managed to hear most of the backdoor conversation between the villains in their secret meeting, thanks to Dabi providing the time and location of it. There was talk of starting something only referred to as 'The League ', with backing by a powerful benefactor. His name wasn 't used directly, but heavily implied. If they could get further information, they could possibly get confirmation on whether All for One was truly still alive.

Dabi was their key to infiltrating the upper echelons of the underworld. Provided they were willing to gamble with such a dangerous character.

'What 's with the long faces, you two? Don 't like cats? ' He says this with the perfect amount of perfunctory concern, but his utterly shit eating grin means he knows

exactly

why they 're so uncomfortable.

'I 'm not ' overly fond of them, ' Naomasa admits. 'But thank you for agreeing to meet nonetheless. '

'I got free coffee out of it, so it 's all good to me. ' Dabi shrugs extravagantly, sprawling out on the bench across from them. His long fingers just barely brush against a cushion housing a fat seal-point. Surprisingly, this particular cat doesn't fling itself out of the line of fire, just cracks open one yellow eye and stares him down.

Naomasa clears his throat. 'Yes, well, if it 's all the same to you then, I 'd like to ask you a few questions. '

'Ask away! '

He decides to cut to the chase. 'Have you ever encountered a man referred to as 'The Emperor of Darkness '? '

'Nope, can 't say I have. '

'Have you ever heard the term,

All for One? '

Naomasa continues. Eraserhead shoots him a sharp look; Naomasa silently begs forgiveness from Toshinori for revealing some of his secrets in front of the underground hero. The opportunity is just too good to waste.

'Hmmm, ' Dabi drawls, rolling his neck. 'Hmmm ' no. '

He curses internally. Truth.

'Do you know anything about any recruiting initiatives going on in the underworld? '

Dabi tilts his head. 'Hey, you know, that 's a

really

cool quirk you have. Does it only work on yes or no questions? What do you do if someone

believes

they 're telling the truth when they 're actually just deluding themselves? '

Naomasa stiffens. How does Dabi know anything about his quirk? Does he have access to the national databases?

'I 'll answer your questions if you answer mine, ' he replies steadily, remaining outwardly unmoved.

Dabi doesn 't look terribly put out by this. 'Fair enough! Yes, there's been a lot of recruitment activity going on. I was recruited myself ' that 's how I knew about that little backdoor shindig. I was invited personally, isn 't that so sweet of them? '

A villainous organization trying to recruit villains of Dabi 's caliber ' that was concerning. Either they had delusions of grandeur, or they really had the power to entice someone like Dabi to their side.

Naomasa always believes in honoring the spirit of a deal, so he answers truthfully; 'My quirk works on any question asked, whether by myself or others in my presence. It works on more than yes or no questions, but the reading is clearest on those. It cannot pick up on whether or not someone is telling the truth or simply

believes

it 's the truth. '

'That 's pretty wild. ' Dabi actually sounds genuinely impressed, brows high over the rim of his shades. 'Headaches must be brutal though. '

Naomasa wants to know how the hell Dabi could know something like that, but he isn 't entirely sure he 's ready for the answer.

He decides not to indulge his own curiosities and stay the course. 'Why did you tip us off? '

'Why not? ' Dabi returns, grinning.

'You 're not worried about retaliation? '

'From them, or from you? ' Dabi counters, sounding teasing.

Naomasa refuses to let that tone fluster him, especially from someone who looks like he 's half his age. 'What sort of retaliation do you think we would have for you? You assisted our investigation. '

'And not from the goodness of my stone cold black heart, make no mistake, ' Dabi adds. 'Look, I don 't like being told what I can and can 't do. I don 't like having to play nice with others. I definitely don 't take orders, from

anyone.

And I 've made that pretty damn clear for everyone who 's ever worked with me. '

He points at them over his latte. 'I helped you out because all this recruiting bullshit is annoying me, and if the cops take the whole thing down that 's one less annoyance I have to deal with. '

'So, you helped us because they annoyed you, not for a plea deal, ' Aizawa summarizes, the first thing he 's said since they walked in.

'More or less, ' Dabi agrees, gamely.

'And I imagine that means you feel no sense of loyalty towards your fellow criminals, ' Naomasa remarks.

'None at all. '

'And you 're not worried that your ' disagreements might have them turning on you? '

Dabi barks out a delighted laugh. 'Oh, I 'd love to see them try. '

He has the sort of confidence that should, rightly, border on arrogance. As it stands, Naomasa only finds it unnerving and somewhat intimidating. He 's

too

confident. A kid his age should be cocky in that way all untried youths are, thinking they 're at the top of the world until reality knocks them down. Dabi seems like reality has tried plenty of times, and he 's still remained indisputably superior.

He and Aizawa share a glance. That 's all Naomasa really wanted to get from this meeting. Frankly, it went better than he 'd suspected. Most informants would never be this forthcoming.

Aizawa leans forward. 'Would you be willing to answer questions regarding your quirk? ' He asks, surprising Naomasa.

It 's not that he 's not curious himself, but he 'd just expected that line of questioning to be a lost cause.

Dabi grins. 'Bold of you to assume I have a quirk. '

Aizawa stares at him flatly. 'I watched you put a man into a state of nonexistence in the blink of an eye. What would you call that, then? '

He laughs. 'The sort of power no human should have. '

That 's ' a unique answer.

'Does your quirk have a name? '

'I believe you already named it, didn 't you?

Cremation. '

'How does it work? '

'You 'll have to be more specific. '

'Does it need visual confirmation to work? '

'No. ' Naomasa feels an icy shiver lance down his spine. He 's telling the truth, holy shit. 'But I do like to double check that the person I 'm 'putting into a state of nonexistence ' is the right person, so I do like to have line of sight. '

'Is there a cool down time? '

Naomasa jerks his head towards Aizawa in disbelief. Is he trying to get them killed? That 's not the sort of thing you just flatout

ask

a villain, at least not without courting homicide.

Fortunately the villain in question doesn't seem too murderous. For now.

Dabi 's grin is positively predatory. 'No. '

Fuck.

'What 's its range? '

'Depends on how much property I 'm willing to damage. ' His lips curl up to show his canines.

'Is there a limit to how many times it can be used in a day? '

'Not for me! ' He says, cheekily.

He 's enjoying this,

Naomasa thinks, with growing dread.

The only reason why Dabi hasn 't been pegged right to the top of Japan's ' and perhaps even the world 's ' list of most dangerous villains is merely a matter of time and incidence. Dabi is rarely sighted, and tends to use intimidation before flat out annihilating his opponents. And because his technique barely leaves any trace, it's difficult to calculate just how active of a villain he is. Everyone unanimously agrees he 's a dangerous criminal that needs to be watched closely, but for now he 's still hovering around A-rank no matter how much Naomasa pushes otherwise.

In reality, Dabi should likely be S-rank, purely on his potential for destruction alone.

And clearly, he damn well knows it.

'So what you 're saying is ' it has no limits, ' Aizawa sums up.

Dabi looks rather triumphant as he sprawls back on the bench. 'Yep. Really, you should have called it '

limitless. '