The dull thrumming of the sounds emanating from the club gradually became clearer as soon as she stepped outside of the building.

Club Narcissus was emblazoned on the club's entrance, the name written in a fancy script as the lights blinked on and off. As rows of people made their way into the establishment, Takano Naomi wobbles in her steps, grimacing at the height of the heels she wore.

She grabs her phone from her purse, skimming the lockscreen for new messages from her friend. Ayane had texted her thirty minutes ago, asking Naomi to "haul her ass to Club Narcissus right this moment or else I'll throw myself off this building," which sounded like a threat, but Naomi had most likely surmised it was a drunk chat. She was used to cleaning up after her friend's drunken messes before.

Sighing, she places her phone back into her pocket, her fingers adjusting the hem of the ridiculously short dress she had borrowed from Ayane's stash of clothes. Club Narcissus was a nightclub that catered to the more posh clientele of Tokyo, after all—from A-list celebrities to the children of politicians. Although rumour has it that the bar also served as a meeting place for shady business transactions within the yakuza and the villains.

Whether the rumour about it being a hotspot for villains was real or not, the club had a dress code and though it was disagreeable on her part, Naomi had to dress up for the occasion, lest she was denied entry.

She fell in line with the rest of the club and spared a look at her wristwatch. It was past 11:30 in the evening, and if she can manage to haul Ayane back to their shared flat, she could still sneak in at least four hours of sleep in preparation for tomorrow's work. Just as she raises her wrist down, the person in front of her was already allowed entry into the club, making it her turn.

"ID please." The bouncer—a tall burly man with reptilian features, no doubt someone with a heteromorphic Quirk—grumbles, and in instinct, Naomi pulls out her workplace ID. The man takes it, glances at the document before moving his features to her.

Dressed in a strapless body-hugging silver dress that ends barely past her thighs and dark stiletto heels, Naomi offers a smile in a means to placate the situation. She had her black hair swept into an elegant up-do, had her make-up done with more effort than usual, and substituted her trusty glasses for a pair of grey contact lenses.

Huffing in approval, the bouncer hands her back her ID and opens the club's entrance for her. "Enjoy the night, Miss Takano."

Giving the subtlest of nods, Naomi steps into the party, only to flinch at the music blaring from the speakers. Coloured lights filled the establishment in varying degrees of green, blue, red, and purple. Squinting through the haze of colour and the notes of a sensual party beat, Naomi could make out a blur of faces and on the dance floor, a tangle of bodies as sweating figures began to grind against each other.

Glasses filled with dark liquor start being passed around, and drinks begin to overflow from the bar counter. A few people stayed seated in the couches and tables around the dance floor, talking in hushed voices and laughing at jokes.

Naomi makes her way through the crowd, murmuring apologies as she nudges against the crowd of tangled bodies. In the corner of her eye, she catches a couple making out in one corner of the room, and she had immediately averted her eyes away. Once past the dancefloor, she exhales a sigh of relief, before spotting the bar counter and taking a seat next to a ginger-haired girl.

The bartender was a polite-looking gentleman, who greets her with a business smile, asking for her order.

"Scotch, please." Naomi answers, returning his smile with a clipped one. "On the rocks."

As he nods and turns his back to make her drink, Naomi focused her senses, her eyes scanning the area for a petite girl with bleach-blonde hair cut in a bob. Ayane had styled her hair for numerous times for that month, and just the other day, she had shown up in the flat with a new hairstyle and new hair colour.

A clink on the bar counter returns Naomi's attention to the bartender as he slides her drink across her. She bows gratefully and takes a sip, cringing slightly as the drink registers in her system. She was never a fan of alcoholic drinks, but she had to blend in with the place. As she cradles her drink in her hands, she finally spots the person she was looking for.

Across from her, seated on one of the tables, Ayane was right into a group of people, next to a gaudy looking guy dressed in chic white Italian suit. Her friend was drunk enough—her normally pale face had a red flush splayed across her cheeks and she was laughing to a joke the guy had said. Naomi's eyes narrowed as the guy had his hands sneakily crawling up to the thighs of her friend.

Placing her unfinished drink and a couple of bills on the bar counter, Naomi makes her way to the group, her eyes narrowed and her fists clenching in restrained anger. As she walks up to the group, she plasters an excessively cheerful smile on her face.

"Hi, sorry to interrupt." Naomi speaks up, raising her voice over the loud volume of the music and drawing the attention of the group to her, Ayane included. "I'm here to take Ayane home."

"Nacchan, you're here!" Ayane slurs, picking herself off from the seat and flinging herself at Naomi in a sloppy hug. Naomi could still smell the alcohol stench on Ayane's breath. God, it's barely past twelve and she's already this drunk?

"A friend of yours, Ayane-chan?" This time, it was the guy next to Ayane who speaks up. Naomi directs her attention to him, only to regret it as the guy begins to run his eyes over her form and leering at her. Bastard.

"Yess, yess!" Ayane slurs drunkenly, untangling herself from Naomi's grip and turning to face the group. "This is Takano Naomi, and she's my bestest, bestest friend evuhhhh!"

"Uhm, right." Naomi forces a chuckle out of her throat as she reaches out for her friend, her grip firm on Ayane's arm this time. "I think we should go."

"But you just came here!" Italian-suit guys comments, opening a bottle of brandy and pouring some of the liquid in a glass before extending it to Naomi. "You should have a drink with us, yeah?"

Warning sirens begin blaring in her head at the scenario. Naomi plasters a polite smile on her face this time. "Sorry, but I think I've already drank enough."

"Come on, Naomi-chan, one more drink wouldn't hurt, right?" He croons, this time reaching for Naomi's arm. Naomi narrows her eyes, catching his grip before it could touch her skin. Italian-suit guy blinks in surprise before he yelps in pain as Naomi grips his arm tight enough.

"No means no, bastard." Naomi snarls. "Don't think you can get away with taking advantage of my friend while she's drunk."

"You bitch—"The guy curses, raising his free hand to slap Naomi but she was quicker, stepping daintily to the side, making the guy lose his balance and face-plant to the floor. Laughter emanates from the group, and Italian-suit guy picks himself off from the floor, face red with rage.

"I think you've had enough to drink, don't you think?" Naomi remarks, smiling sweetly before turning her back away from the group. Huffing in satisfaction, Naomi grabs Ayane and drags her toward the exit of the club.

Outside of Club Narcissus, Naomi hoisted Ayane's left arm over her shoulders as she assisted the blonde while they walked.

"And y'know Nacchan, that idiot Haruki dumped me for that loser of a-" Ayane drawls drunkenly, and Naomi sighs. Her friend was the sort that was talkative and emotional when drunk, ranting about how her exes were losers for dumping her.

"Yes, yes. Haruki is a jerk, I know." Naomi mutters under her breath, struggling under Ayane's weight as they headed towards the exit of the club district. Out of the corner of her eye, she could see sleeping salarymen on the corners of the street, cabaret girls picking up possible customers off the street and drunk men staggering on their feet as they tried to hail a cab home. She and Ayane blended in with the crowd perfectly.

"Why do you always choose to party in the really innermost parts of the district," Naomi mutters under her breath, cursing inwardly as the sight of the exit towards the taxi stops seemed to go on forever.

"Hng? Did ya say somethin', Nacchan?" Ayane replies drunkenly and Naomi only sighs in defeat.

"Come on, we need to get you home—"

"Hey ladies~ You seem free."

Naomi looks ahead, her senses on high alert as a group of men in expensive-looking suits block their way towards the entrance. Unlike the stuck-up brat from the club these men ooze dangerous vibes. Naomi darts her gaze to the matching tattoos on the men's arms.

Yakuza, She mulls in her head. Oh, great.

The men crowd in on them and Naomi plasters a sweet smile on her face, urging herself to keep calm, despite the thundering pace of her heart in her chest.

"I'm sorry, we're on our way home now, actually." She croons, adjusting her grip on Ayane's body. Damn it, Aya. You owe me big for this. "Could you please move out of the way, kind sirs?"

The men share a glance between them, before the leader of the group affixes his gaze back to them. The sight of the salacious grin on his face made all the blood in Naomi's body run cold.

"Come on, you could spare a few minutes for some fun now, can't you?" He offers, his groupies nodding along and whistling. "We'll buy you a drink."

"We really can't, I'm sorry." By now, Naomi's palms were sweating and shaky, but she forced the nervousness down. "Please get out of our way."

It was a miracle her voice didn't waver.

Apparently, the men didn't like her reaction one bit. One minute they were merely standing across them, then next thing she knew, Naomi was being slammed against the wall in a hidden alley, a knife pressed against her throat.

"Y'know Missy…" The man starts, his breath fanning in her face as he spoke slowly. "I'm not used to being refused."

Naomi narrowed her eyes, gritting her teeth. "Well, first time for everything, I suppose."

"Feisty bitch," The man states before drawing his knife away from her skin and motioning to his subordinates. "Strip her."

Naomi's eyes widened, her mouth opening into a scream, but it was only muffled as a pair of hands stuff her mouth with a piece of cloth. The men begin tugging off her clothes, their hands roaming around whatever patch of skin they could find and Naomi began to struggle against their grip but it was futile.

Stop! Her subconscious screamed, and she could feel tears dripping down her cheek as the men begin hiking her skirt up. Someone….anyone….help…!

"You bastards are in the way."

A new voice echoes in the vicinity. At the distraction, Naomi opens her eyes, blinking the tears away as a tall figure looms across them.

The men pause in their ministrations, taking in the profile of the newcomer. One man had the audacity to step near him.

"Hah? Who'd you think you are?" He drawls, rising on his tiptoes as he tries to appraise the newcomer. "Mind yer own business, son of a—"

A burst of blue fire erupt from nowhere, the flames geared towards the man. Yowling in pain, the man backs away from the newcomer, falling to the floor. As he thrashed on the concrete, the rest of his body catches on fire, and in a few minutes, he stills.

The rest of the group stills in their movements, stunned with the events that transpired. The trance broke when the newcomer quells the flame in his hands, and the rest of the gang members draw their knives and guns in anger.

"You fucker!" One yelled. "You'd pay for what you did to aniki!"

The rest of the gang members charged full force at the newcomer, leaving Naomi to herself in the corner. Transfixed to her spot, she could only watch as another burst of blue flame erupts and howls of pain only echoed from the gang members as they slowly burned to a crisp.

As the last member of the gang crumpled to the ground, Dabi turns his attention to the cowering girl in the corner.

He takes in her dishevelled appearance: her dark hair was in disarray and her body was practically almost exposed as her dress was almost pulled off from her due to the ministrations of the men from earlier. He takes a step towards her, and in response, she flinches back and crowds herself into the corner.

Like a deer in the headlights, he mulls in his head, but he merely casts her one disinterested look as he walks past her. Not that it matters to me, anyway.

He yawns, shoving his hands into his pockets as he continues in his steps.

"Hey, you."

He pauses in his steps, tilting his head back to survey her form. She had stood up straighter, her arms wrapped around the upper part of her body as she looked at him straight in the eyes. A hesitant smile crawls on the corner of her lips.

"Thank you." She murmurs, angling her body forward in a bow. "For taking care of them."

Well, this is a first. Dabi thoughts, blinking in confusion at the female bowing in front of him. Usually, people tend to run away from him after seeing his Quirk in action, including the fact that he had just practically incarcerated people in front of their very eyes.

"Don't take this the wrong way." He remarks, turning his back against her and resuming his pace as if nothing happened. "They were in the way and you just happened to be there."

As their saviour made his way out of the hidden alley, Naomi releases a breath of air from her mouth before sinking to her knees. The charred corpses of the men who tried to rape her littered in the corner and she raises her palms to her mouth, closing her eyes as she tried to process what happened to her.

People were just literally burned—murdered—right in front of her very eyes. She feels bile rise up to her throat, and in minutes, she heaves, vomiting into the nearest corner dumpster.

"Ayane…" She murmurs, rising to her feet as she steadies herself against the wall. "I have to get Ayane…"

Police sirens echo in the distance, and Naomi was brought back to reality as a police officer runs towards their corner of the street.

"Ma'am, are you alright?" He asks, stepping towards her in an attempt to assist. "We've received reports of a burst of blue flame around this area. Do you know anything about it?"

Naomi glances up at the police officer, her eyes blank and her mind hazy. His next words all came as white noise to her, and eventually his face, a blur. Within seconds, her mind succumbs to the nausea and then, darkness.

Before she faded into unconsciousness, the only thing Takano Naomi could remember was a flash of blue flame, a scarred face and sea-green eyes.

Author's note: I'm back from my hiatus (three cheers because my second semester has finally ended!) and I finally caught up with the anime and I just have to say that I'm literally thirsting over Dabi (ya feel me?!). The lack of adequate Dabi fanfics finally pushed me to write this and I hope I did justice to his character.

This story is a bit different compared to the fluffy fanfics I write most of the time, but well, I tried. Reviews are very much appreciated!