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Aizawa Shouta was sitting on a rooftop, legs dangling over the edge of an unfamiliar apartment building.
Being an underground hero, he was used to the cold nights, patrolling the dark streets to keep everyone safe.
He was a hero for a reason, and he loved his job. The system was flawed, the pay wasn't the best, and there were certain humans who made his patrols hell, but for now, he got to save people, and that's all he ever wanted.
He shivered at the thought of parading in the daylight, having to keep up his image, please the media. He would much rather get little to no sleep than turn into a public figure.
He was taking a break, resting on the tallest building he could find, enjoying the lit up city below him.
His fingers twitched as he held an unlit cigarette in his right hand, itching to add one more light to his life.
Unfortunately, the universe apparently didn't agree with the sentiment, and the cheap lighter that he carried around refused to create a spark, leaving him dry.
Aizawa sighed, irritated, chucking the terrible dark lighter into the streets below him.
He glared at the disappearing creation, following it's fall all the way to an open trashcan.
"Need a light?"
A familiar scratchy voice called, accompanied by the sound of hard footsteps.
Aizawa didn't bother to look behind him, the slightest change in posture betraying his indifferent state.
By now, the two were used to each other's company. The previous heated moments turned into something similar to friendship, although neither would admit it.
Aizawa gave up on questioning the logic behind their meetings. Somehow, they always managed to find each other.
The footsteps echoed though the night, the metal boots getting closer to the hero, until the villain ungracefully sat on his right side, uninvited.
Aizawa stubbornly refused to meet the man's gaze, keeping his eyes locked on the streets below them.
Finally, Dabi moved again, making a show of slowly putting his pinky finger in front of the hero and lighting it up, a familiar blue flame dancing on the tip.
Aizawa mutely put the cigarette to his lips, getting closer to the flame and inhaling, watching the end finally light up, burning away.
The finger didn't disappear, the flame extinguished as Dabi shifted his hand, palm up.
Aizawa sighed, tiredly tapping on his cigarette and letting the ash fall down, reaching into his pockets with his other hand, digging out a pack of cigarettes.
Opening it with one hand, he tiredly counted the contents. Only one left. Great.
He closed the pack with a glare, giving the whole thing to the hand blocking his view, trying not to think about the way their fingers touched.
Aizawa quietly went back to smoking, enjoying the distraction, watching the city below. He heard the man light up his gift, mirroring the hero's actions as a cloud of smoke came from his own mouth, slowly floating past them.
The hero watched from the corner of his eye as Dabi studied the empty pack, turning it over in his free hand before producing a tall wall of blue flames, making the thing turn to ash in seconds.
Aizawa sneered at the sight of the man's smirk, clearly enjoying the destructive show.
They quickly made eye contact, Aizawa flashing his eyes red in clear warning. Dabi didn't seem bothered, smirking wider as he took another puff.
They both sat in silence, both enjoying each other's company, watching the busy city below them.
As always, Dabi was the one who ruined the peaceful silence, breathing out as he asked his question. "How's Shouto?"
Aizawa almost snickered, straightening up a bit. "You could just ask him yourself, you know."
The old, dumb reasons were unsaid, air filled with smoke. It's not my time yet. It was a familiar conversation. Todoroki Shouto was one of the reasons why the two even talked.
That's what they both believed, anyway. Whatever the reason was, on the rooftops, they never fought. There were threats, sure, but none seemed genuine.
Aizawa sighed at the man's silence, not pushing the subject. "He's doing better," he admitted, feeling the blue eyes burning into him. "He's more outspoken. Yesterday, he even made a joke. It was terrible, but he seemed happy."
Dabi snickered, clearly proud of his little brother.
They sat together for a few more minutes, listening to the sound of the town's quiet nightlife mixed with their own breathing.
Aizawa was the first to put out his cigarette, pressing the bud to the concrete roof with practised motion before throwing it down.
When the remains landed in the trashcan under them, Aizawa looked at Dabi, the younger man still enjoying his gift.
"My offer still stands," reminded Aizawa as he stood up, patting himself to get rid of the small rocks that stuck to his costume.
He didn't have to specify anything, they always had this conversation. Leave the league. Come live with me. Help the heroes. Change the system in the way that you want to.
They both knew it wouldn't happen anytime soon, but it was a nice thought.
"I can't loose another family," replied softly Dabi, holding onto his finished cigarette, not caring about the slight burn in his fingers.
Aizawa nodded, sighing as he slowly walked away from the ledge.
"What, no good-bye kiss this time?" Called after him Dabi, stretching lazily as he ruined the emotional mood.
He barely had time to dodge the capture weapon that aimed for his head.
Aizawa said nothing as he jumped away, slowly getting lost in the darkness.
Dabi let himself sit there until he was sure the other man was gone, mindlessly disintegrating the cigarette in his hand.
Somewhere in the background, the clock struck 3.