Hindsight, as they say, is twenty-twenty.

Had Hawks known what he was getting into, he probably would have ' well, let 's just say he 'd have a lot of regrets. And he 'd probably give himself the time and space to have a private meltdown in the relative safety of his apartment as opposed to the middle of a stakeout mission gone terribly wrong.

It starts out innocuous enough.

He 's introduced to the key players in the organized crime operations going about the city, mainly divided by precinct and ward. He shakes hands with plenty of police commissioners and the underground heroes their detectives tend to work side by side with. A great deal of them are appreciative of his presence and his expertise, but there are still a solid few who seem mostly bewildered, if not downright hesitant, at his presence in the operation. He knows from experience now that it probably has less to do with him as a hero/person and more to do with his mysterious backing from the HPSC. The underground hero he 'd met in Mustafu, Eraserhead, had mentioned as much at the end of their investigation after he 'd eventually warmed up to the incessantly upbeat spotlight hero.

He would have expected a fellow spotlight hero like Sir Nighteye to greet him with a bit more approval than the precincts, but the welcome he received from the agency was decidedly lukewarm. Bubblegirl and Centipeder, his sidekicks, were effusive in their welcome and thrilled to meet him in person, but Sir Nighteye himself had been rather dismissive. Hawks wasn 't sure if it was an ego thing or a paranoia thing. Probably both, from what he gathered about the man. He 'd thought it might be easy enough to just work out of Nighteye 's agency while he 's here, but after that introduction he hikes it back to the friendliest police precinct he'd found so far instead.

That precinct ends up being the one for the Mos Eisley Ward of Tokyo, by and large the friendliest and most relaxed of all the offices he 'd visited so far.

The reason for that becomes apparent when a delivery for head detective Tachibana arrives in a flurry of chocolate and charcuterie boards.

'Every Sunday like clockwork! ' Echo, one of the underground heroes who 'd been showing him around, enthuses.

Hawks raises both eyebrows at the sight. It looks both totally over the top and very expensive. If shit like this is getting delivered every week to this place, it 's no wonder everyone 's always in such a good mood.

He whistles. 'Someone knows how to treat a man right around here. '

For some reason, this causes Echo to double over in laughter so hard her knees almost give out. He has no idea what he did to cause such amusement from her, but by the time she 's done she 's wiping tears from her eyes. 'Oh

god,

I would have

paid

to hear you say that to Detective Tachibana 's face. '

Hawks blinks. 'Why? Did I say something wrong? '

'Well, that 's '

A screech of fury reverberates down the hall, at a decibel that has both Hawks and Echo wincing in pain with their superior hearing. A frazzled looking man ' much younger than Hawks would have expected from someone so high ranking ' only slightly taller than Hawks lunges out of a nearby office, looking like he 's about to strangle the delivery man.

'Get this fucking thing out of my sight before I toss it out a window! ' Tachibana howls, having to be restrained by two of his thoroughly amused coworkers.

'There 's no need for that, Tachibana-san! ' Echo returns jovially. 'If you don 't want it, you sure as hell know the rest of the office is happy to take it from you! '

A bunch of cheers go up from the bullpen behind them, where evidently no one shares Tachibana's aggravation.

She tosses an amicable arm over the frazzled-looking delivery man 's shoulders, and says, sotto voce; 'I 'll show you to the break room. '

She steers him and his wheeled cart clear of Tachibana 's fury, and soon enough the detective is being dragged back into his office, shouts muffled by the closed door. Hawks takes the opportunity to ask; 'Does he not like charcuterie boards? '

'Oh no, he loves them, ' Echo refutes, grinning widely. 'He just happens to despise who he 's getting them from. '

Hawks frowns. 'Vengeful ex? ' He tosses out, at a loss.

Echo shakes her head. 'Oh, it 's much worse. ' She leans over the cart to pluck a floral envelope from a bed of roses.

Curious, Hawks plucks the card from its heavy cream envelope.

Will you brie my valentine?

It reads, which is cheesy (no pun intended) but not particularly enlightening. Then he spies the signature, which is just two simple hiragana characters.

??

'Da 'bi? ' He repeats, and at first it doesn 't register to him, because in news broadcasts and even official documents the name is always used with the traditional kanji for the word.

'Wait, hold on ' ' He chokes, totally flummoxed. 'That '

that

Dabi?! '

Echo nods in a way that seems both sympathetic and yet thoroughly amused by his plight.

'Your supervisor used to

date

a supervillain? '

'Maybe in his dreams, ' Echo mock-whispers with a snort. Then she shakes her head and explains, 'No, no, nothing like that. Dabi just likes to piss Tachibana-san off with increasingly hideous romantic deliveries as a token of good will. Apparently he does it to all the detectives he likes ' which as far as I know, are really only just Tachibana-san and Tsukauchi-san from Mustafu. '

Hawks digests this with a growing look of bemusement. 'That 's an ' interesting habit, for a supervillain. '

Echo opens the door to the breakroom, hustling in their delivery guy as she plucks a strawberry off the ornate display. 'Well, what can I say? Dabi 's an interesting guy. '

Hawks' interest perks up at that. 'You 've met him before? '

He 's read plenty of briefings on the notoriously elusive supervillain, and has been watching his proliferating exploits on the news like the rest of the country, but doesn 't actually know very much about him. Everything about Dabi is still shrouded in mystery, despite his growing notoriety. Nobody even knows how the hell his quirk works, or

what

it is. Best anyone can guess, it 's some kind of psychic-based ability. The trending theory is that his psychic powers were so strong he was actually born with them, and his brain needed so much space for such a strong quirk factor that his body compensated by using up the space normally reserved in the skull for the eye sockets, hence why he uses a blindfold. The theory makes zero sense, but his actual reasons for the blindfold remain as unknowable as the rest of him.

The official profile doesn 't even have an age range or official height and weight. Dabi has an uncanny ability to suss out security cameras, so he 's rarely caught on them. There are a few blurry images from news helicopter footage and pedestrian videos, but since he also tends to avoid leaving witnesses and idling at the scene of the crime, those are few and far between. What they do know is that he wears a blindfold that covers almost the entirety of the top half of his face, has white hair, and usually wears a dark jumpsuit.

Unofficially, Hawks has heard he 's a mercurial character prone to capricious and unpredictable behaviors, who definitely derives amusement from mocking authorities.

From that perspective, sending absurdly romantic and expensive gifts to a man who 's probably hellbent on chucking you in jail definitely checks out.

'Never face to face, but believe it or not he 's a bit of a known evil around here. '

Hawks sprawls into a chair across from Echo as she descends upon the charcuterie board with a fervor that means she knows damn well she 's only got a few more minutes before the whole precinct comes to feast.

'Around here? ' He repeats, casually. 'You mean in the investigation? Or just Mos Eisley in general? '

'Both, ' Echo replies, around a mouthful of cheese. Hawks plucks a cube for himself, figuring he may as well enjoy the spoils if they 're in front of him. Surely Dabi wouldn 't mind, right? 'We have no proof, but we think he 's a favorite of Toman. '

'Toman? '

'Tokyo Manji Gang, ' the blue-haired girl elaborates. 'They 're Mos Eisley 's top gang, and the most likely to cooperate with the police. '

So Dabi is pretty deep into organized crime then. He could have guessed as much, purely from his criminal record, but it 's questionable how much of that is organized crime or just pure vigilantism.

The renowned 'cremation ' villain had of course been in Hawks 's dossier about the top echelons of the criminal underworld, but Hawks had actually tabled him purely on account of his complicated profile. First of all, he was already notoriously difficult to get a hold of. There were lower hanging fruit for Hawks to gather intel from first before he 'd ever bother with someone as difficult to pinpoint as Dabi. Secondly, it was unknown just

where

in the hierarchy Dabi really even was. From the perspective of pure power, Dabi was an undisputed top villain. But his actual 'criminal acts ' all skirted the line of vigilantism too much for him to be considered an ordinary villain. Hawks had to imagine he probably had a fearsome reputation, but also one other villains would look at and dismiss as too soft. In Hawks 's investigation to ferret out the leylines of the criminal underworld and ultimately topple the whole thing over, he wasn 't a useful target.

If it turns out he was actually involved heavily in gang activity and organized crime ' well, that changed things.

'So they 'll play nice, given the right incentive. '

'Something like that. ' Echo agrees easily. 'But don 't tell Tachibana-san I said that. '

That 's intriguing information to know. He wonders if Dabi is a similar character, and if so, what his incentive would be.

//

@ru-kun | Darth Plagueis the Wise

Hiiiiiii~ no I wasn 't on twitter break I was banned haha but tbh thats the most on brand thing that could 've happened to me

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//

'You call this diplomatic relations? ' Shrieks the blonde kid with an egregious styled pompadour, as he barely dodges out of the way of the incoming flames.

Gojo doesn 't reply at first, in favor of returning fire. The Kuat shipyards compromises almost the entirety of the capital region 's oceanic trade, so it wouldn 't do to brazenly cast any of his destructive Limitless techniques about. But Gojo has found a great deal of what he can accomplish with powerful, reality bending curse techniques is equally as possible with good old fashioned semi-automatics, so a fear of property damage doesn 't stop him from engaging with the enemy.

Toman 's newest member, a wet-behind-the-ears kid no older than Gojo 's current age scrambles to take cover behind him.

'Hm, well, I guess at this point we 're better off calling them ' aggressive negotiations? ' He muses aloud, as he reloads.

By his side, Toman 's first division captain snorts. 'There 's no negotiating with these fuckers. '

Gojo glances towards Chifuyu with a considering look, then shrugs. 'Yeah. They haven 't been very friendly, have they? '

Chifuyu scoffs, finishing off his round before he slumps back down against the shipping crate they 're using as cover. 'And who 's fault is that? '

'... Mine '? ' Gojo blinks, confused. He feels like this is the answer Chifuyu is looking for, but he 's kind of at a loss. Has he ever met these guys before?

Chifuyu just laughs at his bewildered expression. 'Yeah, you. Who else has been disrupting the global trigger supply chain and rescuing all their human trafficking victims? '

Gojo blinks rapidly.

'These

are the guys doing that? '

Chifuyu rolls his eyes grandly. 'Yes, Dabi. And I 'm sure half the reason they opened fire before even letting us lay out terms is because you teleported in halfway through our meeting with a bag of

Shake Shack. '

'I

asked

you guys if you wanted anything too, ya know, ' Gojo pouts.

Chifuyu doesn 't even deign this with a response, looking around the flaming warehouse with an expression that means he 's wondering what he ever did in his life to deserve Gojo in it ' basically everyone gives Gojo this look at some point in their lives, so he 's inured to it at this point.

'I

wanted a strawberry milkshake, ' the new guy mutters, sounding put upon.

Chifuyu cuffs him over the head. 'And

I

told you no. Have some professionalism, Takemichi. '

Takemichi just sort of stares blankly at him, then slides his eyes towards Gojo.

'He doesn 't count. ' Chifuyu insists, immediately.

Takemichi looks like he doesn 't know what to make of that statement.

Chifuyu, meanwhile, observes the man in question with a wary eye as the white-haired man suddenly appears distracted by something only he can see. This happens more often than not, and while Chifuyu has never managed to get a straight answer out of the criminal consultant as to how the hell his quirk works, time and experience has taught him to just roll with it and trust Dabi 's judgment.

Dabi 's only half paying attention to their banter, head cocked to the side as the rapid-paced gunfire peters out. He has no issue rising out of his crouch and waltzing into the center of the room in his distracted wandering, gun lowered to the ground in the most blasphemous display of nonchalance Chifuyu has ever seen.

He hates this guy, honestly, from the bottom of his soul. How is it possible for someone to be so obnoxiously overpowered? Only a guy like Dabi can walk around a situation like this with a chocolate milkshake in one hand and a semi automatic in the other, totally blindfolded, not even paying attention to the gunfight unfolding around him.

Takemichi makes a move to edge closer towards the edge of their storage-unit turned barricade, and Chifuyu hastily drags him back by the collar of his shirt before he gets his nose sniped off.

'What 's he doing? ' Takemichi whispers furtively, eyes never leaving Dabi 's inattentive form.

'Nevermind him, ' Chifuyu says, because that 's probably the most fundamental advice he could ever give a Toman newbie. Don 't bother with Dabi because he always knows what he 's doing, and definitely don 't waste time worrying about him because he 's as indestructible and ferocious as a black hole.

'Hey, Chifu-chin, what 'd you say these guys are called again? ' The man in question asks, idly.

Chifuyu frowns, flicking through his recollection. 'Uh, ' it eludes his grasp, as he 'd only gotten a blanket overview on the organization, with most of the information about the actual key players they were supposed to meet. He remembers it being some weird foreign name ' definitely not one of local gangs they get into territory disputes with.

'Humarise, I think? ' comes unexpectedly from Takemichi.

Chifuyu stares at him.

'What? ' Takemichi says, defensively. 'I have a good memory! '

This seems to jolt Dabi out of his stupor. 'Weren't they rumored to be involved with that terrorist attack in Bangaldesh last month? '

Chifuyu thinks quickly. 'The bombings? '

He hadn 't thought Dabi paid attention to stuff like that. Chifuyu doesn 't really either, except it was on the news the other day while he 'd been lounging bored at the bar with nothing better to do but watch.

'Yeah ' ' Dabi trails off, sounding lost in thought.

Eventually their opponents take the bait of a distracted target seemingly defenseless and straight in the open, and reveal their positions to take a few shots at him. That 's checkmate for them, as Dabi doesn 't even spare them the time of day as their bullets all meet his impenetrable forcefield, and in the meanwhile Chifuyu can easily pick them off.

'Good work, Dabi, ' Chifuyu praises, grinning widely as he rises from his hiding spot.

Dabi doesn 't even seem to hear him.

'Is ' is that all of them? ' Takemichi asks hesitantly, emerging from behind Chifuyu.

'Probably. ' He turns to their consultant. 'Dabi? '

He doesn 't answer for a moment, frowning deeply from below his blindfold. 'Hm? Oh, yes. We seem to have caught them at a bad time ' they must have left a skeleton crew here because there 's something going down at the wharf. '

'... the wharf? ' Takemichi repeats, blankly. In his defense, it 's a fair distance away, and there 's no good reason for Dabi to know something like that.

'Yeah. Don 't wait up. '

And then he blows the roof right off and jumps clear into the sky, and there 's really nothing else Chifuyu can say to that.

Takemichi stares with wide eyes at the hole he leaves in the metal roof. '... What 's his quirk supposed to be again? '

Chifuyu sighs. 'Who the fuck even knows. '

//

@discozenzie_ |

*

?

Baby spice

?*

@ru-kun

describe yourself in four words

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@ru-kun | Darth Plagueis the Wise

my own worst enemy ????

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//

The mission starts off conventionally enough. He and underground hero Echo have quickly become fast friends, in no small part because her 'gives no fucks and takes no prisoners ' attitude reminds him of Miruko and the rabbit hero has ingrained that sort of abrasively honest personality as something reassuring to him. At this point Pavlovian response has conditioned him into liking it, and there 's nothing to be done for it now.

They both have obscenely useful surveillance capabilities ' Echo with her wide-area precision echolocation quirk, and Hawks with his feathers ' so they 're oftentimes used together to cover large swaths of urban landscape, where the superiority of their precision hearing dominates other hearing quirks. Predictably Hawks 's presence in the area has stirred a bit of a media frenzy, with an uptick in public safety opinion following his trail. He 's become a regular sight flitting around the narrow Tokyo skylines, usually carting Echo around like a fancy backpack.

So far they 've made a few arrests but have mostly kept to laying groundwork for longer intel gathering missions. The criminal landscape of the capital region is robust and complicated; there are dozens of key gangs with webs of legal and monetary resources hidden beneath them, and a tenuous law enforcement dynamic with rival precincts and hero agencies vying for resources and territory in a way that 's not entirely dissimilar to the gangs they 're trying to take down. He has no idea how people do this their whole lives ' he wants to go back to the days where someone pointed at a villain and he swooped in to take them down, smiled for the cameras while the police put them in cuffs, and shot off to the next assignment.

Tonight started off as all his previous nights in Tokyo did, with the sun setting upon a neon dream, the city awakening into a tableau of flashing lights and dizzying sounds, gleaming skyscrapers towering over the lifeblood of the city, and streets crawling through the darkness like glowing veins sprawling through the night sky, as far as the eye can see. Hawks alighted against a nearby radio tower, peering down into the luminous abyss as his radio crackled in his ear. Across a bleak strip of darkened windows, a man was pacing back and forth down the polished floors of a darkened office, phone pressed to his ear.

'Look, there 's nothing more I can do, my hands are tied, '

he 's saying nervously, worrying at his tie.

'If I try to ship out anymore we 're liable to expose our shipment route, and then it 's all over. You don 't understand, Toman likes to keep their streets clean, running this much through their territory is already dangerous business '

There 's a long pause as Hawks shuffles his feather closer along the ridge of the floor-to-ceiling window, pressing it hard against the glass.

' 'I don 't know anything about that, I don 't

want

to know anything about that, '

the man 's insisting, as his tie unravels in his fretful hands,

'I just run the factories, okay? I 'm a book keeper. I don 't want to know what I don 't need to know. I don 't know who 's buying, I don 't care. '

'I can 't get anything from the other side, ' Hawks says into his mic. 'Too much disturbance from the airconditioner. '

'Roger that. I 'll see if I can help. ' Echo returns. Hawks turns towards a distant skyscraper, his sharp eyes easily discerning Echo 's crouched form as she slowly conjures up one of her sound bubbles. It 's indiscernible to the naked eye, but her hands clasp together before she holds her palms out as if she 's slowly pushing something away from her.

' 'they 're the only buyers in town and we can 't pass this up. They just need a ship to go as far as Okinawa. They 've got their own transportation method from there. '

The voice on the phone is low and soothing, in direct contrast to their mark, who looks close to worrying himself to tears.

'They 've got two shipping containers. Real small. We can just add them to the freighter bound for Hong Kong, call in a maintenance issue to stop in Okinawa. No one needs to know what 's in them, it doesn 't matter to us. '

'I can 't be involved in this, '

the businessman insists, moving on from his wrinkled tie to clutch at his receding hairline.

'You don 't understand. Trigger is bad enough, but Dabi doesn 't kill for that anymore '

Both Hawks and Echo jolt in surprise at the sudden dropping of Dabi 's name.

'But if this is what I think it is ' we 're dead meat, do you hear me? I don 't care who 's buying or how much they 're offering. We 're all fucked. He 's going to erase us from existence. '

The man gasps, panicked.

'He 's not going to find out, '

the voice on the phone soothes.

'And even if he does, these guys are big time. Interpol 's most wanted kind of shit. They can handle him. '

Their mark laughs nervously.

'Look, you 're not from around here, you don 't get it. Dabi fucking runs this town. And Toman 's in his back pocket. They

own

the Kuat Shipyards, do you understand me? They 're going to know. '

'We 've got confirmation on location, ' Hawks speaks quietly into his mic.

Hawks 's comms crackle to life as their surveillance team jumps to action. 'Roger that Hawks, good work. Echo, stay in position. Hawks, head over to the shipyards. '

'On it! ' He chirps, unfurling his wings and freefalling off the roof. He catches an updraft and soars high over the metal towers of Tokyo 's downtown, heading for the dark blanket of water at the edge of the glittering city.

Even at this time of night traffic trudges on through the streets below like neon sludge; Hawks arrives at the bay in record time, banking around the rainbow bridge and Odaiba proper as he circles around.

This 'll be a tough one to spot, but maybe he 'll get lucky and see something off. The Kuat Shipyards are the lifeblood of Tokyo 's maritime trade, and finding criminal activity among the busy port feels a lot like trying to find a needle in a haystack. Enormous warehouses cluster along the banks and sprawl up towards the freeway in impenetrable steel mounds, massive oceanic freighters heavy with shipping containers idle in the black waters of the bay.

As he observes the world below, he wonders what in particular they 're shipping that has their money launderer so afraid.

Hawks has been on this case long enough to know whoever their buyer is holds a lot of international sway and has a massive global presence. He hasn 't heard a name yet, which is already a bad sign. Only criminal organizations that have something to hide go this far in hiding their identities.

It 's just as he 's idly musing on how daunting it would be to find out the culprit is some kind of household name ' like a government official or corporate executive ' that the warehouse he 's floating over

explodes.

'Holy shit!! '

The unexpected wave of heat sends him spiraling into a freefall, and he just barely manages to catch himself before he hurtles into the water.

Hawks pitches his wings, and staggers to keep airborne. He gasps loudly when he sees the pillar of white-blue flames soaring high into the sky, so hot that it tingles against his skin, even at this distance. He 's lucky the updraft acted as a buffer, otherwise his wings might have incinerated on impact. It 's the sort of heat that seems impossible in real life, scorching his lungs on every inhale, its sheer brightness whiting his vision so hard he 's still blinking the spots from his eyes.

'Are you okay, Hawks? Come in, Hawks! '

He grasps for his earpiece, shocked it didn 't melt right off. 'I 'm fine, just got caught off guard. A warehouse just blew up at the Kuat Shipyards ' think I found myself our culprits. '

There 's a bunch of cursing from the surveillance as they make contact with HQ. Everyone is caught off guard by this turn of events; this was supposed to be a recon mission, not a full on tactical assault.

Hawks rubs the smoke and dirt from goggles, squinting down into the blinding flames. The warehouse is just ' gone. There isn 't even the remains of metal support structures to denote it was even there at all. If Hawks hadn 't just seen it with his own eyes, he would have thought the spot had been entirely empty. Usually fire left remnants ' even cremation fires left bone shards and other residue beyond just dust and ash. He 's not certain how hot a fire has to be to level a metal building instantaneously, but he 'd imagine that sort of power would have

some

kind of blowback. The pressure alone should have destroyed the nearby warehouses at least, yet the rest of the shipyards are perfectly untouched.

Wait ' Hold on.

Cremation '

Hawks soars upwards, out of range from the smoke and haze to get a better view of the situation. His heart skips a beat as trepidation rises in his chest ' was he seriously about to come face to face with one of the most notoriously elusive supervillains in the country right now? He frantically scans the dark streets and ' there. Dangerously, almost suicidally, within range of the sweltering pillar of blue flame is a figure with pale white hair, gleaming an eerie white-blue in the light of the fire. He could be mistaken, but his instincts have never led him wrong before. And right now the primal intrinsic raptor side of him is going haywire, shooting adrenaline straight into his veins, sharpening his senses like a predator preparing for fight or flight.

The wind turns, and Hawks slopes across the roofs to avoid the smoke columns. The change in angle and lighting has his pupils adjusting, refocusing until his vision is perfect once again. This time, he can make out more of the scene below; Dabi standing backlit by the flames, facing a man in a pinstripe suit with a gun in his hand. They seem to be speaking to each other, but Hawks can 't hear anything over the roaring of the flames. He 's too far to read Dabi 's lips or discern his expression, but it 's obvious enough what he intends to do when he pulls a hand out of his pocket and reaches up for his blindfold.

Hawks sucks in a sharp breath as it falls to the floor.

Oh

shit.

//

@ru-kun | My Own Worst Enemy

OBVIOUSLY we have a lot of problems to address, I say, referring to one specific problem, which I created, alone.

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//

In Gojo 's defense, he didn 't mean to seize the warehouse in an atomic level distortion so strong it eradicated the entire structure from the face of existence, but he 's in a pretty pissed off mood and wanted to be dead certain the entire contents of the warehouse were disposed of in an irreversible manner.

It 's still so ironic to him, that the quirk his father and his childhood doctors had taken one look at and professed as malfunctioning and crippling to his body, is actually the perfect compliment to his Limitless techniques and Infinity.

He 'd honestly assumed he 'd reached the pinnacle of what any mortal could ever hope to achieve with his combined Six Eyes and Limitless, but good old Endeavor proved him wrong.

The quirk factor Gojo inherited from his father allows him to create and emit flames from his body: the body he inherited from his mother can 't handle the extreme temperatures created by those flames.

In theory, this should render his powerful fire quirk as worse than useless. In reality, in combination with his Limitless, he can use the attraction power of

blue

to directly increase the temperature of his flames to the proportion of the pressure he puts on it, and the reversal of

red

to confine it. This creates a flame with unlimited temperature and kinetic energy, and a barrier around it that allows Gojo to control the radius and trajectory with impossible precision. The result is a technique that, in some respects, he thinks might be superior to the Gojo clan 's acclaimed

Hollow Purple.

The

Hollow Purple

technique combines the convergence and divergence of two polar infinities, the infinity of positive energy and the infinity of negative energy, and the resulting fusion effectively erases anything it comes in contact with from existence. But manifesting a power that completely bypasses the laws of physics is time consuming, energy intensive, and somewhat unwieldy in practice. Its precision and speed is very limited. It looks epic, don 't get him wrong, but it has its drawbacks just like any other technique.

But this technique he 's perfected in his second life ' dubbed

cremation

by the police, a name that has, to his begrudging disbelief, started to grow on him ' has none of those drawbacks. He can use extreme heat to achieve the same result as

Hollow Purple

in practice, if not in theory. Technically,

Hollow Purple

is completely erasing atoms from existence.

Cremation

just changes the structural integrity of molecules using the principles of thermodynamics until they become utterly unrecognizable, all at instantaneous speeds with perfect precision.

To make a long story short:

cremation

has no business being this flashy when it can rearrange molecules in the space of an instant, but Gojo 's pissed and in the mood to watch things

burn,

and there just so happened to be an entire warehouse full of Humarise 's new and dangerous version of trigger conveniently nearby.

And anyway, it 's been ages since Gojo 's engaged in any kind of arsonry. He 's missed it.

'So, still think I 'm playing around? ' He says, casually.

He turns towards the Humarise member he 'd encountered when he 'd first warped over here, a lanky man in a striped suit whose earlier arrogance has deflated like a punctured balloon. His bluster from before has left his face ruddy and reddish, and combined with the sudden shock of Gojo 's explosion leaves his skin an odd shade of aubergine.

The man staggers back in horror as his grave, wide eyes tilt up towards the sky, where an infernal curtain of flame rises into a starless black maw.

'You ' what did you do?! ' Why isn 't it working? ' He cries in despair, waving his gun around erratically.

Gojo doesn 't bother to tell him that his flames are so hot they burned off the Ideo Trigger instantaneously, leaving nothing left but diatomic carbon. Frankly, outrageous showboating not withstanding, Eraserhead and Naomasa and even that bratty Tachibana should really be thanking Gojo, because trying to get rid of such a vast amount of such a volatile substance like Ideo Trigger would have been hell for the police.

Now why the hell this organization would want to even

make

a synthesized version of Trigger that would kill the user almost upon injection and in such an enormous quantity is a whole separate issue. It makes no sense to Gojo ' nothing about Humarise makes much sense to him so far. They 've turned a street drug like Trigger into a murder weapon, while simultaneously trafficking quirkless people, whom the drug will have no effect on. As far as a criminal enterprise goes, it 's pretty dodgy logic. Killing off all your users sounds like the pinnacle of bad business practice.

'Bring it back! ' The man wails. 'Bring it back, damn you! '

Gojo laughs. 'Your product is long gone, dude. ' He thumbs at the bottom of his blindfold, gently tugging it off. 'And on that note, you will be too, if you don 't cooperate. '

Predictably, the man insists on doing the exact opposite. He sends one last frenzied look in Gojo 's direction before staggering off into the maze of shipping containers behind him, leaving Gojo alone with his flames.

Well, almost alone.

He throws his hand up in a mock salute, grinning widely. 'Hey there Kei-kun, fancy seeing you here! '

//

@ru-kun | My Own Worst Enemy

Me, whenever my own terrible life choices catch up to me

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//

Hawks is suddenly very glad for the ongoing gunfights, explosions, and general mayhem, because it means his mic probably can 't pick up the sounds of his hyperventilating over all the background noise. He can barely even concentrate on the escalating situation around him over the white noise of his own hysterical panic, but he has enough presence of mind to remember to mute it.

He 'll never admit it aloud to anyone, but his very first coherent thought after he 's had his internal meltdown is:

Damn he 's really as hot as I remembered. 'Literally.

After that, he has no real time for regrets or dumbfounded realizations, because this might

definitely

be the first and only guy he 's ever slept with ' but he 's also one of the most dangerous villains to exist and he 's kind of in the middle of fucking shit up, and Hawks has a job to do. Namely, arresting him. Probably. Well, he can certainly try. But everything he 's heard about Dabi '

Satoru '

would infer that to be a lesson in futility. And anyway, Dabi 's ' telekinesis(?) ' flames(?)

(How exactly can flames be telekinetic? Are they just usually invisible? Or is this a secondary utilization of some kind? Or were all the reports just plain fucking wrong???)

' Dabi 's

quirk,

whatever the fuck it is, looks like a terrible matchup for his highly flammable feathers, so he can try but he doubts he 'll get anywhere.

Most heroes would radio in for backup when encountering an unknown and unconfirmed villain. They 'd also try to get a second opinion on the identity of the individual they 're trying to confirm. Corroborate with databases and other eyewitnesses.

Most heroes also, probably, haven 't had

intimate relations

with said villain that they haven 't managed to get out of their head since.

Hawks knows with an exacting, terrifying degree of certainty that Satoru is Dabi. He has perfect recall and an eidetic memory. There is absolutely no way he 's ever forgetting Satoru 's face ' not when he spent an entire night memorizing those features as they contorted into every shade of ecstasy.

Hawks is the fastest hero in the country. He always has a plan, and a backup plan, and even a hail mary if all else fails.

He has

no idea

what the fuck to do in this situation.

So he finds himself just returning the greeting.

'Long time no see, Satoru-san, ' he replies, in just as pleasant a tone as the villain had greeted him in. Which is bewildering, because he 's the Number Three Hero and he 's not supposed to be on first name basis with villains.

Oddly enough, heedless of his overwhelming panic he finds himself frozen in some numb oasis of calm. Like an out of body experience, or something. Maybe it 's all his training finally kicking in like muscle memory, his mind on autopilot as he strategizes the best way to approach this situation.

He stuffs his hands into his pockets as his wings beat a few times against the warm air currents to remain hovering in place. 'So, what brings you around these parts? '

Dabi laughs. 'All work and no play, unfortunately. I 'm assuming you 're the same? '

'Something like that, ' Hawks agrees. 'We got wind of a deal going down tonight, thought I 'd head over and scope it out. '

'Deal 's over. ' Dabi 's grin is all sharp teeth. 'I don 't negotiate with human lives. '

'Words a fella could live by, huh? ' Hawks returns idly, feeling his own lips twitch upwards in response.

'You 'd think, right? ' Dabi complains, sighing. 'And yet it seems people like that are so hard to come by these days. '

'You might be in the wrong occupation if that sort of morality is what you 're looking for. ' Hawks points out, mildly.

'Actually, I 'd disagree. ' Dabi shrugs, then peers up at him with those mesmerizing eyes of his. Even from this distance, they 're oddly ensnaring. Hawks would bet his left wing there 's something utterly

abnormal

about them, even if he has no idea how such a thing could be possible. 'But nevermind me ' what about you? '

'What about me? ' Hawks replies, shoulders tensing.

'Well, I 've got a bit of a hostage situation on my hands here. People 's lives are at stake ' think you can put aside our occupational differences long enough to save them? '

Hawks doesn 't even have to think before replying; 'That was never in question. ' He tucks his wings in close, and plummets back to the ground. He lands a few paces away from Dabi. 'What can you tell me about their status? '