It’s technically the first time he’s patrolling alone. Of course, Fatgum had taken all necessary precautions to ensure his safety, assuring him he would never be too far off, that this was one of the safer neighbourhoods they were expected to patrol this week, but Kirishima doesn’t really care about any of that. He’s excited. It’s a huge responsibility, a show of trust, a sign that Fatgum believes in his abilities and that he expects big things of him. To say the least, he’s eager to make his mentor proud and prove that his trust is well-placed. It’s an opportunity he refuses to squander.
Vigilance is key, Kirishima tells himself as he walks from street to street, keeping a careful eye out for anyone who might need his aid. Working as a hero has never just been about apprehending villains and petty thieves; it’s about helping the average person, too. Or, at least, that’s what Crimson Riot’s efforts have taught him. It’s a lesson he takes very seriously and it’s precisely the reason why he finds himself halting mid-stride when he catches a glimpse of a worried looking couple darting out of a side street like a pair of spooked cats.
He turns slowly on his heel, peering into the gloom of the alleyway the pair had rushed from, thin brows furrowing into a frown. Something low and warning settles in his stomach as he, against his better judgement, steps into the shadows, hands curled into readied fists. A figure looms near a dumpster at the far end of the alley. Kirishima’s lips part, a concerned query dying on his tongue the moment the figure turns to face him, revealing a grotesquely familiar face that immediately sends his instincts into alarming overdrive.
Kirishima knows him. Like he could ever forget a face like that. His posture stiffens, shoulders lifting and bunching around his ears. His voice sounds different even to his own ears when he finally breaks the suffocating silence, “ You…! You were there the night— ” The night they took Bakugou away.
Anger surges thick and fast through his veins despite his best efforts to quell it. Kirishima activates his quirk in the blink of an eye, sharpened teeth bared in a show of aggression. He needs to remain calm, to curb the white-hot frustration causing his hands to tremble as he stares down one of the many villains directly responsible for Bakugou’s capture. He’s safe now, Kirishima vehemently reminds himself, we saved him, we got him back. They failed.
With a steadying, shaking breath, he urges himself to focus. This is what he’s been training for, but there are still too many factors to consider. He has no way of knowing if their meeting is a coincidence or not, no way of knowing the man’s intentions, but with Fat and Suneater a handful of blocks away, he’s the only Hero ( unofficially, admittedly ) in close proximity capable of putting a stop to him. And he has to stop him.
There are no civilians nearby. They’re in a fairly secluded alley that branches off from the main street. Ideally, he should attempt to call for back-up and let Fatgum and Suneater know he’s encountered trouble, but he has a feeling the guy in front of him won’t give him the chance. For now, at least, Kirishima’s on his own. He just needs to keep him away from the streets and figure out how to apprehend him as quickly as possible, preferably without sustaining any injuries himself.
He lowers himself into a fighting stance, never once taking his eyes off the figure before him, his hardened skin grating and scraping loudly with the abrupt movement as he boldly addresses the villain, “ I don’t know what you’re doing here, but I’m not gonna let you hurt anyone…! ”
@cremationary // starter call! ♥
he doesn’t recognise the figure at the other end of the alley. in fact, the kid looks so panicked & unlike any kind of threat that he averts his gaze, attention reverting to the wallet in his hold. his intent HADN’T been to harm, nor provoke the couple. ( the fact his appearance had frightened them, and that they’d happened to drop their wallet whilst making their escape ... ) he’d gotten lucky, essentially. serves them right, for being so blindly ignorant. that said, he’d briefly CONSIDERED snatching it from them in passing, regardless. mild irritation wells in his gut upon hearing the unfamiliar voice call out, and his temper really begins to waver.
the candid anger, & choice of words is what garners dabi’s attention at all. there that night ? ah, right. from what information he’s gathered since then, dabi came to understand that they’d begun working as heroes; apprentices of sorts, at the very least. ( he’s still ‘fairly’ certain that his flames can BURN through this kid’s hardened skin, but sees no use in instigating worthless fights. at least, not yet; it’s still risky, admittedly. ) hands slipping from pockets, dabi tilts his head back, observing the other’s stance. “ i don’t remember you. ”
was he one of the brats sheltered AWAY while the others fought ? whatever; it’s irrelevant. so long as his quirk is only meant for hardening, & his alternate skill the reliance of brute strength, dabi needs only remain vigilant. still, he’d rather not tire himself out. this one isn’t a prime target ... although, he is beginning to piss dabi off. ( unable to prevent his friend from being snatched away; what does he hope to achieve ? ) flames flicker idly beneath clear, albeit calloused fingertips. “ but you’re pissin’ me off. what makes you think i will ? ”
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