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lura-valentine · 2 days ago

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Choose Your Own Adventure!

MHA / BNHA Writing event

Part 2: The cool place

This will be an interactive writing event where you decide what happens next!

How does it work❓️

🐵 Character choice - completed 📖 First part of the story Post - concluded 🗳️ At the end of the story there is a survey on how it should continue 🌐 The majority decides what happens next 🔄 The cycle repeats itself until the story ends

Thank you so, so, so much to everyone who liked ❤️ and shared 🔄 the latest part.

There were a surprising number of votes and I really didn't expect such a high turnout. I hope you enjoy this project as much as I do and participate diligently, because the event lives from your votes‼️

To make things more interesting, feel free to give me some suggestions as to what else could happen.

If the suggestions are good, they will be included in the next survey! You can do this anonymously or simply write in the comments😊

Vote 1 Part 1 Part 2

#lura mha/bnha CYOA_1

–> To Kaji's Profile #kaji black character profil

Dabi pushed open the door, stepped inside, and stopped. His gaze slowly wandered around the living room as he ran a hand through his hair. Manga volumes lay scattered on the floor, some open as if someone had simply dropped them carelessly. DVDs were stacked haphazardly on the coffee table, some open, their cases buried somewhere in between. And then there was the collection of empty energy drink cans – a veritable fortress of caffeine and sugar, piled up around the controller in front of the screen.

In the midst of this chaos, Kaji sat, completely relaxed, with one foot propped up on the coffee table, a headset in his ears, his fingers flickering over the controller. The giant screen flickered with explosive images of a game that was way too loud, but Kaji didn't seem to mind.

Dabi leaned against the doorframe and took a deep breath. Not out of anger, not out of frustration – but because he was damn proud.

"Shit," he muttered with a crooked grin. "That's a work of art."

Kaji, who only now noticed him, turned his head slightly and raised an eyebrow. "Oh, you're back? I thought you'd stay out all night."

"I might have, if I'd known I'd be coming back to a post-apocalyptic battlefield." Dabi entered the living room, knocking aside an empty can, which rolled into the corner with a quiet clatter. "Should I laugh or slap you for that?"

Kaji lowered the controller, stretched, and yawned pointedly. "Stop pretending you're not celebrating. We both know you're feeling the same way."

Dabi raised an eyebrow, his eyes twinkling with amusement. "Well, kid, you're right." He slumped onto the sofa, casually pushing a manga page aside with his elbow, and grabbed one of the half-full cans. He took a sip, then grimaced in disgust. "What the hell are you drinking? Tastes like battery acid."

"Caffeine. Sugar. The only energy source I need." Kaji grinned, put his feet back up, and grabbed his controller.

Dabi studied him for a moment, then leaned back, a cigarette between his lips. "Rain would kill us both if she saw this."

Kaji laughed. "Then we have a week to fix this. So relax."

Dabi let the smoke drift out slowly as he surveyed the chaotic scene. It was a damn disaster – but a catastrophe that reminds him suspiciously of himself.

"Well," he finally muttered. "You fucking have more of me than I'd like sometimes."

Kaji shrugged without looking up from his game. "Well then, Dad... make yourself comfortable. I'll give you the second controller if you want to get beat up."

Dabi's gaze fell on the controller, but instead of reaching for it, he just leaned back against the couch and snorted. "As much as I'd like to convince you otherwise, kid, I have another plan."

Kaji raised a skeptical eyebrow, pressed a button, and paused the game. "Oh?"

Dabi twirled the cigarette between his fingers, his gaze casually wandering through the chaos that had accumulated here in just one day. "I need your help with something."

Kaji laughed softly, took another sip of his energy drink. "Then it's going to be difficult, because I definitely don't feel like it."

Dabi grinned crookedly. "Oh, just wait a minute. I'm planning to show you a really cool place."

Now it was Kaji who really burst out laughing. Loud and dry. "Cool? Dad... I doubt you can even define cool."

Dabi quirked his mouth mockingly. "So you're really going to pick a fight with me about style? Kid, I was cool before you were even born."

"That was at least a hundred years ago."

"Shut up and move your ass. I swear, you won't regret it."

Kaji tilted his head back and studied his father through half-closed eyes. He knew that look – it was the same one Touya always wore when he was planning something that was either incredibly dangerous or incredibly crazy. It was probably both this time.

"Fine," Kaji finally sighed, throwing his controller onto the couch. "But if this turns out to be a complete failure, I swear I'll be teasing you about it all night."

Dabi stood up, stretched pointedly, and shrugged with a grin. "Well. I've survived worse."

Kaji's mouth twisted slightly, then finally stood up and stretched, his black wings fanning out wide before folding them loosely again. Then he casually picked up the controller and turned off the console and TV.

"If this isn't worth it," he muttered, turning to Dabi, "I'll turn the apartment into a damn winter wonderland."

Dabi laughed softly, straightened his coat, and looked at his son with a mocking glint in his eyes. "You don't have to. You do it every time you dream in your sleep anyway."

Kaji just growled softly as he pulled on his jacket and followed Dabi outside.

The streets were bathed in an unsteady glow from the city lights, billboards flickered on the walls, and people bustled around. Dabi walked with his usual casual stride, his hands in his pockets, while Kaji walked beside him with a critical eye.

They crossed several residential areas, passing narrow alleys and wider main roads, while Kaji became increasingly skeptical. "Tell me, where exactly are you dragging me? This isn't exactly the route to a cool place, if you ask me."

Dabi just grinned mysteriously. "Patience, kid."

Finally, they stopped – in front of an old, run-down underground parking garage.

Kaji blinked. Then he frowned. "Seriously? An underground parking garage? This is your big, cool place?"

Dabi pushed the door open with a gentle push and stepped into the dim entrance. "Wait and see. Sometimes the most interesting thing isn't what you see immediately, but what's underneath."

Kaji snorted, but his interest was piqued. Without another word, he followed his father into the darkness of the underground car park.

As the door closed behind them, absolute darkness enveloped them. The contrast to the neon-lit city outside was so abrupt that for a moment, Kaji saw nothing but blackness. Then a blue flicker hissed through the darkness – Dabi had lit a flame in his hand, making his features dance sharply in the light. The long, narrow corridor before them was bathed in a bluish glow, the shadows on the walls trembling in the restless glow.

"Damn," Kaji muttered, scanning his surroundings. "It's a bit like a bad horror movie."

Dabi grinned crookedly. "If you want, I can give you the role of the first victim."

Kaji snorted in amusement but said nothing as they descended the stairs. The stairs seemed endless, each step echoing dully off the cold walls, accompanied by the faint crackle of Dabi's hot flames.

But then, Kaji heard something. At first, it was barely perceptible, a deep, vibrating sound that echoed through the floor. Kaji pricked up his ears. It was a dull rumble that grew louder with every step they took. There was a strange rhythm to it – not just noise, but... cheers?

He frowned. "What the hell...?"

The closer they got, the clearer it became. Voices, loud and euphoric, interspersed with shouts that echoed in the walls. It was a crowd, and they were celebrating something.

Dabi stopped just a few steps from the stairs and turned to Kaji with a crooked smile.

"So, kid... ready? I told you I'm going to need your help right now."

Kaji raised a skeptical eyebrow. "Help with what?"

Dabi didn't answer. Instead, he pushed open the heavy metal door in front of them.

A bright light exploded into the room, blinding Kaji so much that he automatically threw a hand over his face. At the same time, a wave of pure noise hit him – the roar of a cheering crowd, mixed with screams and cheers, so intense that it momentarily overwhelmed his senses.

As he slowly lowered his hand and opened his eyes again, he saw it.

A huge, makeshift arena stretched out before them, surrounded by stands where people stood tightly packed. The floor was brittle concrete, enclosed by a tall steel cage covered in scratches and dents. In the center, two men fought, their Quirks in close combat and their clothes tattered, while the crowd celebrated each hit with an ecstatic roar.

Dabi stepped forward and spread his arms, grinning. "So, kid? Still sure I don't know what cool is?"

It took Kaji a moment to process all this. "This..." He exhaled slowly. "This is a damn underground fighting arena."

"Right on target." Dabi shoved his hands in his pockets and scanned the fighters. "So-called underground fights take place here. Usually organized by Overhaul or a few other guys with too much money."

Kaji crossed his arms. "And why do the heroes allow this?"

Dabi shrugged. "Well, officially, such places are illegal, but in reality..." He grinned crookedly. "Let's just say the heroes and the cops tolerate them. Because they keep us villains happy and supposedly prevent us from doing even bigger shit outside."

Kaji scanned the crowd. There weren't just villains here – he recognized some shady businessmen, a few inconspicuously dressed people who looked like rich clients.

"So?" Dabi pushed past him, looking over his shoulder. "Are you impressed now, or do I need to show you something better?"

Kaji clicked his tongue and let his gaze wander over the roaring crowd. He shoved his hands in his pockets and sighed in mock annoyance. "Okay, I admit it. This is... not bad."

Dabi laughed softly. "Not bad? Kid, this is real life. No heroics, no rules, no stupid uniforms. Just strength against strength."

Kaji turned his head toward him. "That's all well and good, but what exactly do you need my help for?"

Dabi stretched, relaxed, as if he'd just been waiting for that question to come. "Well, you know, the League's keeping its feet still right now. No major chaos, no missions – AFO wants us to keep a low profile." He grimaced briefly, as if he didn't particularly like the idea. "But staying still isn't my thing. I need to stay in shape. And that's why your mom and I regularly fight in team battles here."

Kaji raised an eyebrow. "Team battles?"

"Two on two." Dabi scanned the arena. "The rules are simple: Fight until one of you can't fight anymore or gives up. Rain and I have already won quite a bit of prize money."

Kaji snorted. "Prize money? I thought she was already filthy rich."

Dabi shrugged. "Well, you can never have enough money. And let's be honest, for us, this is less about the money than about having fun."

"I see." Kaji eyed him skeptically. "So where exactly do I come into play?"

Dabi's grin widened. "Rain's gone. Normally I'd fight alongside Shigaraki, but AFO's keeping him on a short leash right now. That means I need a replacement."

Kaji blinked. Then he shook his head in disbelief. "Wait. You want me to get in the ring with you?"

"Exactly."

For a moment, Kaji said nothing. Then he laughed quietly and shook his head again. "Dude... you're really stupid."

Dabi just grinned. "Come on, kid. I know you want to. And if you're being honest – you want to see if you can keep up with me, don't you?"

Kaji twisted his mouth, his pride flashing in his eyes, sharp as the edge of a sword that's been sheathed for too long. "Tch. If I step into the ring, it won't be to be your damn sidekick."

Dabi laughed, deep and throaty, as if he'd been waiting for this exact reaction. "Then prove it to me." His eyes sparkled in the glow of the arena lights, as if there was something in there that reignited not only his muscles but also his fire.

Kaji stood there as if he were glowing. The wings on his back twitched, flexed, a few of the feathers fluttering like glittering shards of frost as he trembled with energy. "Come on, old man. Show me where I sign."

Dabi just grinned broadly and gestured for him to follow. The two moved through the milling crowd of fighters, onlookers, and dealers conducting their own business in the half-shadows until they stopped in front of a table that looked as if it had been hammered together from old metal sheets. Behind it sat two men who looked like walking gas grenades – broad shoulders, heavy jackets, and both wearing gas masks whose lenses gleamed dully in the neon lighting.

"Two on two. Straight in," Dabi growled as he leaned forward, flashing the flame in his hand briefly, just as a calling card – a reminder of who they were dealing with.

The guys exchanged a brief glance, then one of them wordlessly handed over a clipboard. Kaji scribbled his name on it, his gaze sweeping over the remaining fighters, who were chatting, testing their Quirks, or warming up.

It only took a few seconds for Dabi's presence to be noticed. Some of the men who were just tightening their bandages or putting grilles on their teeth suddenly turned pale. Two even started to quietly retreat from the line, but then their gaze fell on Kaji, who was now standing next to Dabi like a shadow slowly taking shape.

"Shit... Dabi's here."

"Do you want to unsubscribe?" a skinny guy whispered to his partner, neither of whom was clearly built for a real fight.

"Wait... Rain's not with him. Neither is Shigaraki."

"Who's the other one?"

"I don't know... looks young. Maybe a newbie."

"If he's just some rookie, we might have a chance..."

Dabi heard every word. A barely perceptible smirk twitched across his lips as he turned away from the registration desk. "Can you hear that, Kaji?" he murmured as they moved toward the benches. "The wolves are already sniffing around, thinking I have a lamb on my side."

Kaji gritted his teeth. "Then let me bite them first."

Dabi laughed softly, proudly, without having to say it. "You may. But you'll fight with me. And you'll stick to my rhythm. If you step out of line, you'll burn your wings."

"And if you get too hot, I'll cool your ass," Kaji growled back.

A quick look – hard against hard, heat against cold, pride against pride – then a nod. They understood each other.

A man approached them, a loudspeaker around his neck, distorting his voice. "You're match six. Two against two. You have ten minutes, then it's time to get in the ring."

Dabi put his arm loosely around Kaji's shoulders, as if he wanted to whisper something to him. "Ten minutes, huh? Plenty of time to warm up."

Kaji's eyes glowed in the reflection of the arena lights. "I'll freeze them before they even see where the blow came from."

Dabi grinned. "That's my son."

The entertainer stepped into the cone of light as Dabi and Kaji slowly made their way through the vibrating darkness toward the arena, a heartbeat of light and shadow, punctuated by the dull rumble of the music that danced in their ribs like an alien pulse, impetuous and urgent. Every step echoed heavily on the concrete floor, as if their soles wanted to warn the stage.

The crowd roared, a chaotic sea of shouts, stomping, and wild whistling, but the entertainer, all in black with a glittering tie, raised his hand imperiously. The microphone pressed to his lips, his grin cutting across his face like a razor blade, his voice coaxing, sweet as poisoned honey.

"Ladies, gentlemen, and everyone in between – tonight we welcome a new duo to our arena... on the one hand, an old acquaintance. The burning madness with a pure desire for destruction – Daaabi!"

A torrent of howls, stomping, and burning ecstasy shot through the arena as if someone had lit the fuse of a powder keg. The name was as familiar as a threat, his presence a myth that burned beneath the skin.

"And by his side – well, let's just call him Blue, the Rookie!"

A murmur ran through the crowd, a mixture of mockery and curiosity. Kaji twisted his mouth as if he'd been spat in the face. "Blue, the Rookie? Seriously?"

Dabi laughed softly, his shoulders shrugging beneath his leather. "Well, you're completely unknown, not a file, not even a footnote in the villain world. Of course they call you Rookie."

"That's changing now," Kaji growled, the crackle of his ice flame suppressed but palpable in the air, like the first tremors before a blizzard.

A mischievous smile crossed the entertainer's face, but he remained silent, instead turning dramatically to the other side of the arena. The gate there opened with a metallic groan, as if the underground itself were sighing.

"And their opponents: Two of the toughest dogs from the underground! Atlas and Crank – pure brawn, no brains, but enough force to tear down a house!"

The men who stepped out of the gate looked like nightmares come to life. Atlas, broad-shouldered, metal plates on his chest and arms, rigid as a fortress. Crank, smaller, wirier, but wrapped in chains that rattled with every movement as if they were alive. Their gazes were aggressive, their movements snarling, but in their eyes, a brief twitch of uncertainty flashed – not because of Dabi. But because of the stranger at his side.

"You both are due!" Crank yelled, the chains creaking as he tightened them.

The gong ripped through the air.

And suddenly, there was only movement.

Kaji and Dabi moved like mirror images – a fluid, perfect choreography of instinctive unison. Their flames ignited simultaneously, Dabi's fist flared up, a seething blue that seared the air even before he struck, while Kaji's ice flames sliced sharply and coolly into the air like a blizzard freezing flesh.

Their fists struck their targets in sync, a double impact like a thunderclap that rippled through bone and marrow. Their opponents had no chance. Crank was caught by Dabi's fist, a scream, a twitching flash, and his body was thrown against the cage wall like a wet sack. At the same time, Atlas flew, trembling from Kaji's icy flame, against the bars and lay gasping, steaming, unconscious.

And then, there was absolute silence. The audience, frozen in motion, as if someone had stopped time. Then the microphone clicked, a feedback screeched.

The entertainer stepped forward again, his smile now wider, almost enjoyable. "...oh, how embarrassing of me. I almost forgot to mention something important..."

He held out his arms theatrically. "This is our very special father-son duo! A fiery devil and his frosty heir! Bow down to... Dabi and his son Blue!"

The crowd exploded.

Cheers, screams, whistles, cardboard mugs flew into the air and someone fired a flare at the ceiling. There was whispering, bets, some were already calling for a rematch, for more – more heat, more power, more of that look between father and son that danced between respect, challenge, and a touch of madness.

Dabi stood there calmly, letting the flames lick their way out on his arms, while Kaji still stood slightly bent over, his wings half-spread, his shoulders shaking with the euphoria of victory, and yet there was no pride in his eyes, but hunger – not for blood, but for meaning.

"Okay..." he muttered, almost to himself, and glanced sideways at Dabi. "I admit... this is fucking fun."

Dabi stepped closer, placing his hand on his shoulder, heavy, warm, and honest.

"I told you," he grumbled as they retraced their steps down the corridor, away from the light, into the dim heart of the underground.

"So?" Kaji asked quietly as they headed toward the preparation room. "Was it enough to step out of your shadow?"

Dabi casually lit a small flame and let it dance across his fingertip. "You didn't step out of my shadow," he said without looking at him. "You made your own. And that's fucking frosty."

Kaji laughed softly, a ragged, almost surprised-honest sound. "Maybe it's time they got to know me."

Dabi looked at him, really at him. Something rare flashed in his eyes for a moment – pride, yes, but also worry. A hint of fear. And something dark, quietly scratching at the door of his consciousness.

"Yeah... I guess it is."

But as soon as they entered the room, Dabi felt it. A tug in his stomach. Not painful, not exactly– more like a premonition. A shadow slowly spreading across his insides, like a wing of black smoke.

He knew there were men out there, as well as organizations… eyes waiting in the darkness. People like Overhaul, and others like them, unspoken of, who were interested in powerful sons. Very… interested.

The following battles felt like a rush of adrenaline. Time passed more slowly, flames hissed, and the air reeked of scorched metal. Those brave enough to even face them were brought to their knees within seconds.

Some tried tactics, ducking, retreating, but Kaji's eyes flashed like cold steel, his silhouette vanishing in a sudden storm of frozen embers. Those who tried to dive to the side to avoid the direct blow were mercilessly met with a fiery kick. His legs a swirl of icy fire that hurled bodies across the arena like toys. His every move was a dancing slash of ice and cold, no mercy in his kicks, only the precision of a fighter finally allowed to prove himself.

Dabi, on the other hand, was the storm. He moved with a nonchalance more dangerous than any scream. Its flames did not blaze in wild fountains, they crawled, they licked, they waited. When he struck, it was an act of determination, as if saying with every movement: You are not worthy of feeling my full fury.

Two teams had already given up before the bell sounded. They had heard the names, seen the flames, the glow of the wings, and realized this fight wasn't meant for them. Some cursed, others bowed their heads silently as they retreated, the bitter taste of fear and shame on their tongues.

And so, father and son moved through the arena like forces of nature, leaving nothing but charred shadows and frozen silhouettes in their wake, until only the finale remained.

And then, they stood before him...

Dabi recognized him before the light fully hit him. The broad shoulders, the grotesquely proliferating muscles, as if tendons and skin had been stretched too tightly over his body. The manic grin that knew no joy, only hunger — Muscular.

He stood there like a monument of flesh, covered in a grotesque armor of his own tissue that pulsed with every movement. At his side was a man, gaunt, with thinning hair and sunken cheeks, little more than a shadow. Apparently, Muscular had simply dragged him along. The guy wasn't a partner, merely a means to compete.

"Dabi..." Muscular roared with a grin too crooked even for death. "Missed you, dude. The scars from back then still itch."

Dabi took a step forward, his eyes narrowed, his flames still hidden, but the air already vibrating. "I thought you'd rot long ago."

Muscular laughed, a dry, vicious bark that echoed through the arena. "You took my Arena title back then. Today I'm taking it back. And that one…" his gaze fell on Kaji, slowly and curiously, "I'll take him down right away."

Kaji didn't answer. But the beat of his wings was answer enough. A soft, sharp hiss as the ice crystals formed on the ground, his flames flickering restlessly, like a waking demon.

Dabi gritted his teeth. "You're not touching him. Not a single hair."

Muscular grinned even wider, took a step forward, the floor splintering beneath his feet. "Then show me what the father-son miracle is really about!"

The gong fell like an axe through the silence.

Muscular's body tensed like a rope about to break, his veins bulging beneath his skin, his muscles pulsing, grotesquely exaggerated like the caricature of a god who knew nothing but violence. With a deep, rumbling roar, he charged forward. No tactics, no hesitation, just pure force. The ground shook beneath his steps, dust swirled, and each of his thunderous kicks sounded like a sledgehammer on concrete.

Kaji barely had time to his breath. His pupils narrowed, his body tensed instinctively, but he didn't retreat. He raised his arms, and at the same moment, a flame blazed from within him. It crept over his shoulders, spreading out like a living cloak of light, shimmering between blue and white, flickering like flaming frost.

With a single, powerful movement, he threw his arms forward – the flames shot out in a fan-like arc, and in their center, a wall rapidly formed. Rising and icy cold, but barely had it reached its full height when it began to change.

A crackling sound ran through the fire, the light faded, the blue brightened. It crystallized until only a shimmering, translucent wall of ice remained, veined with fine, luminous lines. It was no ordinary ice, but the kind only Kaji could create – flames frozen in mid-motion.

Muscular slammed into it with unchecked force. A dull thud, a disgusting crunch, and then the wall shattered with a single sound passing through Mark. Shards of ice flew through the air like missiles, slicing into skin and dust. Kaji threw himself to the side – not gracefully, but quickly, instinctively, his body rolling along the ground, wings tucked in, ready for the next leap.

But Muscular was faster, faster than his massive frame would suggest – he whirled around like a force of nature that knew no time, a colossus programmed only for destruction. The fist rushed in, accompanied by a throaty laugh that sounded like rusted iron.

A scream – not from Kaji, but from the air itself – for suddenly there was heat.

A blinding light cut through the gloom of the arena, and a flaming fist, deep blue and angry like the suppressed embers of decades of hatred, struck Muscular full force in the side. It wasn't a direct hit – Dabi wasn't aiming for his body, but for his momentum, his direction. The flames enveloped him like an electric shock, throwing him to the side and making him stagger.

"You're fighting both of us, you ogre," Dabi growled, his voice hoarse, his eyes burning like two narrow rips in the darkness. The flames on his arms licked hungrily, ready for more.

Kaji was back on his feet, his gaze a single, focused cut. Adrenaline pumped hotly through his veins, and somewhere between anger, respect, and a hint of satisfaction, a smile twitched on his lips.

"Nice save, dad."

Dabi huffed. "You can thank my later. Now we'll burn him away."

Muscular spat on the ground, a smacking sound followed by a ragged laugh that echoed in his massive chest like the rumble of a volcano before it erupts.

"What's wrong, Dabi?" he sneered. "You used to give a damn if your buddy got hit by a bus." His eyes flashed, adrenaline pulsing through his oversized body, every tendon straining, ready for the next explosion. "And now? Now you're jumping around this kid like a guard dog. What happened to you, huh?"

Dabi was silent for a moment, his chin slightly lowered, his eyes fixed on Muscular. The words struck a chord within him, but not in the way Muscular had hoped. No anger, no sting of guilt. Only this faint, burning glow, blazing in the depths of his iris like the remnants of an old fire that had never quite gone out.

"It was never completely meaningless to me," he murmured finally, backing away slowly, his step deliberate, gliding like smoke, until he stood behind Kaji. "I just couldn't afford it. Not then, not at Shigaraki's side. Not with Rain storming through the front lines with flaming feathers. We couldn't afford to be soft. Not with the whole world trying to crush us."

He paused for a breath. "But this... this is different. This isn't about missions. This isn't about contracts or a damned rebellion. This is about my son."

Muscular grimaced, the smile falling, giving way to dull confusion, a palpable incomprehension. "Son? Tch."

He didn't need any more words. His legs tensed, the ground cracked beneath his weight, and with a primal scream, he charged straight at Dabi. His fists clenched, his body like a living battering ram.

Dabi didn't move. Not a flinch, not a retreat. Only two small words came from his lips.

"Now, Kaji."

The air changed in a single heartbeat. Kaji raised his arms, his eyes blazing like the northern lights in the night, and his wings spread like those of a demon finally freed from its cage.

Flames erupted from him – not as before, not cautious or tamed, but wild, with a primal force that was barely controllable. They shot in all directions, punched the air, licked hungrily at anything that moved, like a pack of predators finally unleashed.

The cold exploded. The arena was engulfed in a blinding blue inferno that engulfed every corner – the bars, the concrete, part of the stands. It was as if someone had brought the sun down to the ground and chained it.

And then – the break.

The flames changed. Their edges froze. The colors shifted from blazing blue to an almost painfully bright white. In a split second, everything froze – as if frozen in another reality. The arena became silent, a single, rigid cage of frozen fire.

Muscular's body was trapped inside, frozen in motion, his partner barely recognizable as such. A distorted shadow behind the frozen wall. Only Muscular's head remained exposed, panting, steaming, his face contorted with exertion, his muscles twitching, fighting to resist freezing.

"I'll get you... I..."

Dabi stepped forward, calmly, his hands in his pockets, his face cool as ash after the fire.

"You'd better not do that," he said quietly, but his tone cut like a knife. "Or have you forgotten what happens to cold muscles when you strain them too much?"

Muscular's eyes widened as the truth dawned on him – the trembling, the tingling, the beginnings of pain deep in the tendons.

Dabi grinned crookedly with satisfaction. "They tear."

The gong echoed through the arena like the dull beat of a massive heart – a metallic echo that was lost in the icy silence, bringing the world to a surreal standstill.

Not the usual roaring yelling, not deafening cheers. Just a breathless silence that settled over the stands like fog. Hundreds of eyes were fixed on the huge block that took up three-quarters of the arena.

Kaji stood in the middle of this ghostly still life, his shoulders still slightly raised, his breath smoking in the cold air left behind by his own flames. Dabi stood beside him, his hands in his pockets, as if refusing to let the force of the moment get to him too much – but there was a gleam in his eyes that was rarely seen there.

Then, as if someone had suddenly turned up the volume on the world, the crowd exploded.

Shouts, screams, and applause erupted like an avalanche, raging from the stands like a storm of pure enthusiasm. Names were shouted, feet drummed to the beat, and in the midst of it all, they -father and son- stood the undisputed victors.

Dabi took one last look at the block of ice, a mocking twitch in the corner of his mouth, then turned slightly to the side, scrutinizing Kaji with a look that said more than words ever could.

"Not bad, kid," he murmured, and it sounded almost too casual to be real. "For your age... pretty impressive."

Kaji snorted, running his hand through his slightly sweaty hair, his feathers still had a slight glow in them.

"If I weren't impressive, it would be embarrassing. After all, you trained me." He grinned broadly and glanced briefly at the crowd, which was still roaring like a disturbed swarm of bees. "You know what? I'd love to do that again. There's something about arena fights... something so raw and honest. No ambushes, no politics. Just you, your opponent, and your fire."

Dabi raised an eyebrow, the flickering flames long since extinguished, but his expression remained serious.

"Enjoy the moment, Kaji. Because that was the last time for a long, long time."

Kaji blinked, surprised. "What? Why?"

Dabi grimaced slightly, lowering his voice, as if he didn't want to say the words out loud.

"If your mother finds out you've already been to the arena, now, without prior agreement, without her..."

He paused, took a deep breath, as if the very idea caused pain.

"She'll bury us both alive. Grounded forever."

Kaji laughed softly, half nervous, half incredulous. "You're exaggerating."

Dabi looked at him. "I was ten minutes late for training once. She banned me from using fire for a month."

Kaji trailed off. "...Oh."

My moral supporters

@tiny-roki-todoroki | @alexandhisstuff | @doumadono | @unhinged-bratty-boy | @within-eyesight

@indignant-alpaca @vakoss @pranses-oradea @hiding-inner-dabi @irkedpomeranian @the-fallen-moonknight @dr4g0n3t @dedinside1221 @shiggyniggy @roast-toast @grossograsso @brokenheart-brokenmind6 @thedancingparrot

I mention accounts that my works ❤️ and 🔄. If anyone no longer wishes to be mentioned, please let me know.

#lura mha/bnha CYOA_1 #bnha #mha #my hero academia #boku no hero academia #bnha dabi #dabi #mha dabi #touya todoroki #todoroki touya #dabi fanfiction #dabi fanfic #dabi fic #kaji black oc

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