Chapter Text
Smoke billowed into the sky, and he coughed as he tried to orient himself on the ground. Blue fires were dying around him, burning away the dried weeds and scattered trash. That certainly explained the smell.
He swiped at the air as he tried to stand, but the weight on his back made him off balance. What are--? Oh, wings. Red wings. His wings. He has wings?
Gravel and broken glass crunch the ground as footsteps approach him. He can see shapes through the smoke. One, two-- no, five. S***. He's not sure he can handle five.
He throws a hand in front of himself, palm open, in a motion for them to stop. He's hunched over, lungs burning with each breath he's pulling in, and he can barely see. Oh, there's blood in his eye. He must've hit his head. That explains the headache.
"w-Wait..! Don't come any closer! Who are you guys?" A breeze shifts the smoke, allowing a glimpse of the person in front. All he can see are piercing blue eyes, dark spiky hair, and scars under his eyes before the smoke envelops him again. He can guess at least three reasons why his heart just gave an involuntary squeeze. He hopes the pleasant reason is right, but he has his doubts...
"What the h***?" The man in front tilts his head, his shadow visible through the smoke. "You hit your head or something?" He doesn't come any closer, so that seems like a good sign.
"Um, yeah actually. Think you can help a guy out? Maybe answer some questions?" The other shadows stop behind the man with the spiky hair and nice voice.
"Like what?" Another male voice pipes up, and from the way the other shadows look at him, he can guess that the others weren't wanting to give him a chance for questions. That probably wasn't a good sign; he'd better ask them quickly.
"Like, say, who you are? Who, uh, who I am..?" His voice pitched upwards, uncertainty coloring his tone, making him stutter. He holds his breath. It’s all in their hands now. Whether he lives or dies or gets any answers: it all lies with them.
The shadows look to each other, and he can hear muttering among them, quick half sentences that jumble together. The only one who hasn’t spoken is the one in front; that’s a voice he’s come to recognize in the two minutes he remembers. Without a word, that shadow steps forward, fully leaving the smoke.
His scars cover more than the space under his eyes. His entire jaw is scarred, and it encompasses his ears and bottom lip before traveling down his neck and past his collar bone. His very low-cut shirt shows some healthy skin, but this man looks to be at least 80% scars. And maybe 7% piercings.
Metal flashes in the light now that he can get more than just a glimpse of the man. Metal stitches keep the scar tissue attached to the healthy skin, and that doesn’t include the piercings covering this man’s ears. There might be some in his nose, too, but he can already tell that he’s been staring too long. He quickly blinks and focuses back in on the man in front of him. S***, he doesn’t know his name. Better call him Spiky for now.
Spiky’s giving him a once over of his own, and it’s only now that he realizes that his heart’s racing. Has it been doing that this whole time? For the sake of his sanity, he’ll say yes. Yes, whatever’s happened up to this point has had his heart racing; it definitely wasn’t caused by Spiky approaching him just now. Nope. Yep. That’s his story, and he’s sticking to it.
“You really don’t remember who you are?”
He shakes his head. “The last thing I remember is waking up to smoke and blue fire everywhere. It’s really cool looking, but also pretty disorienting.” Now that they’re having an actual conversation, he lets his hand drop back to his side, slowly coming back to a standing position.
“That sounds reasonable –You expect us to believe that bulls***?” Another ‘nother male voice calls from the smoke, but Spiky just raises a hand to the side, immediately getting the shadows to stop approaching. Okay, Spiky’s got a commanding presence. That could either be good or bad.
There’s a beat of silence as Spiky considers him again, giving him another once over.
“Your name is Takami Keigo. You can call me Dabi. Follow me if you want a place to stay.” With that, Spiky-- no, Dabi- turns away and walks back into the smoke. It seems to part around him, revealing quick glimpses of the four shadows that were lingering behind him.
A guy in a black and white spandex body suit, a lizard man with purple hair, and a blonde girl with her hair in messy buns are watching him. The fourth shadow’s already turned around to follow after Dabi.
“Dabi, are you sure?” The other-other-other male voice asks (why are there so many guys?), this one attached to a top hat. He’s following after Dabi, but when he glances back, he sees that Top Hat is also wearing a mask. Huh… Wonder what the story is about that…
“Yeah, he’s not faking.” Dabi reassures Top Hat without bothering to glance back. It seems like he already knew that Keigo would follow him. Not that he wants to be predictable, but where else is Keigo supposed to go?
(Dabi pov)
Maybe it will seem like he’s being irresponsible, but he’s not. He’s known Hawks for months, and Hawks doesn’t stutter. He doesn’t show uncertainty either, especially not when he’s been knocked out of the sky and wakes up surrounded by villains. As crazy as it is, everything Hawks has done since standing back up has rang genuine, and maybe that’s the most surprising part of it all. Hawks is rarely genuine.