_3_

The man's eyes lit up with interest, a wide grin spreading across his face. He glanced around and said,

"So, kid… are you one of us?"

Izuku blinked in confusion. "One of you? What do you mean?"

The man scoffed impatiently, waving his hand through the air.

"Come on, kid. Take a look around—it's obvious. This place is where outlaws and villains gather."

Izuku's mouth opened slightly, his tone flat. "Really? I didn't know… I thought it was just a regular diner."

The man's eyebrow twitched, baffled by how odd the kid was. The place practically screamed villain hideout—from its shady appearance to the dark atmosphere.

"Judging by that nonchalant reaction, you are one of us… right?"

His eyes darkened as he replied in a flat tone,

"I joined recently. Still new to the scene."

The man let out a low chuckle, thinking: This kid talks like he just picked a college major, not a life of villainy.

He raised his scarred hand into the air. Seconds later, a striking blue flame bloomed in his palm. Izuku watched it with quiet admiration and said,

"Your Quirk's fire… and blue? That's honestly fascinating. It doesn't look dangerous—it's too beautiful."

The man stared at him blankly, eyes wide.

Did this weird kid just compliment the beauty of my flames? Is he serious?

A small grin tugged at his lips.

"Trust me, kid—you don't want to feel them roasting your ass."

He closed his hand, extinguishing the flame, then held it out toward the boy.

"Dabi."

Izuku understood that was the man's alias—his villain name. Which meant he was expected to share one too. The only problem was… Izuku hadn't picked one yet.

He paused for a moment, then offered his hand.

"Nightmare."

Izuku—no, Nightmare—felt the lingering warmth of Dabi's Quirk. It was oddly comforting.

"Do you work alone?" Nightmare asked.

"Most of the time—yeah," Dabi answered.

"You look young. How old are you, anyway?"

"Just turned fifteen this year," Nightmare replied honestly.

Dabi placed a hand on his head and said,

"Well, I'm about twenty-one… that makes me your senior.

Maybe you should call me senpai."

Nightmare shot him a disgusted look and spit to the side. "This is the last time I see you."

Dabi smirked.

"You sound so sure. Be nice, and I might even teach you a thing or two about villain life."

Nightmare glanced out the window, his tone detached.

"Not interested."

Dabi ignored the dismissal, his gaze lingering on the boy's freckled face—it looked almost angelic, contradicting the cold aura he carried.

It made him wonder: What happened to this kid to make him like this?

Nightmare, in turn, was drawn to Dabi's scars.

He asked, "Are those… side effects from using your Quirk?"

Dabi raised an eyebrow, caught off guard by the observation.

He hadn't expected the kid to be so perceptive—but decided to keep it vague.

"Something like that…" Dabi replied coolly, leaning back in his seat.

Nightmare examined the scars again, clearly unconvinced, but he didn't push. Everyone had a past they wanted to hide. He was no exception.

After a brief silence, Dabi looked up.

"So, Nightmare… what do you want out of this world? You got a goal? Or are you just a lost kid looking for a place to belong?"

Nightmare's expression didn't change. He stared Dabi in the eyes and said,

"I have a goal. I'm just not telling you."

Dabi chuckled.

"Ooh, mysterious, huh? That makes this even more fun."

Nightmare glanced toward the door, then stood up.

"Looks like I've wasted enough time here."

Dabi got up too, stuffing his hands in his pockets lazily.

"Don't be so dramatic, Nightmare. Maybe we'll meet again—and who knows? You might need my help one day."

Nightmare gave him a cold look before walking out, leaving Dabi to watch him with a faint smile.

"Interesting kid… let's see where your path leads, Nightmare."

---

As soon as Izuku stepped into the gym, he began some basic warm-up exercises. Then he hopped onto the treadmill, running for an hour straight. Afterward, he lifted a few 15-kilo weights—just enough for his untrained frame.

By midday, when the sun hung high in the sky, Izuku decided to wrap up and head home.

On the walk back, he felt physically drained, but something inside him had shifted.

He'd decided to change—but hadn't expected to meet a real villain so soon. Especially someone like Dabi. He couldn't tell if the encounter was just a coincidence… or the beginning of something more.

He pulled out his phone to check the time. It wasn't too late—his mom wouldn't be worried yet. The streets were quiet, save for the steady sound of his footsteps on the pavement.

He tried to clear his mind, but Dabi's words kept echoing:

"You got a goal… or are you just a lost kid?"

What was his goal?

He'd always dreamed of being a hero. But the world had decided he wasn't good enough.

Did that mean he had to be a villain now?

No—it wasn't that simple.

He just wanted to survive.

To prove he could fight in his own way—whether they liked it or not.

When he got home, the place was empty. His mother had probably gone out shopping or visiting a friend. A small wave of relief hit him—he wasn't in the mood for conversation.

He headed straight to his room, tossed his gym bag beside the bed, and sat down at his desk.

Pulling out his notebook, he began flipping through the pages—old notes and analysis about heroes, villains, and various Quirks.

He stopped on a page he'd written weeks ago—filled with sketches and notes about Bakugou. His fighting style, strengths, weaknesses… and how to exploit them.

Grabbing his pen, he scribbled beside the old notes:

"If his rage makes him reckless… provoking him might be the key to breaking him."

But… was that the path he wanted to take?

To bring others down—or rise above?

He set the pen down and leaned back, staring at the ceiling.

"The next step…"

He knew he had to grow—physically, mentally—but he needed more.

A plan.

He closed his eyes briefly, remembering what Dabi had said:

"Be nice, and I might teach you something about the villain world."

Maybe… maybe learning more about the other side wasn't such a bad idea.

It didn't mean becoming a villain.

It meant understanding.

He opened his eyes, grabbed his phone, and began searching the internet. Crimes in the city… active gangs… anything that might help him understand the bigger picture.

Then he saw it:

"Suspicious activity reported at an abandoned warehouse in the outskirts. Police suspect it may be a base for an unknown criminal group."

Izuku's eyes widened slightly.

He didn't know why, but something deep down told him—

This could be the start of something new.

He slowly stood, eyes fixed on the screen, and whispered to himself:

"Maybe it's time to explore."