That was it; his big reveal. While it was true that Dabi had displayed a strong hand, you knew that you possessed a better one. In poker, the situation could best be placed as a Four of a Kind to a Straight Flush. Though, you could definitely manage a Royal Flush if you could hide the fact that you'd already been tipped off in this deadly, high stakes match you two were playing.
Contradicting your prior behaviour, you felt that theatrics weren't really your thing. Sure, you totally freaked out last night when your identity was compromised, but you were tired, near hungover, and legitimately ambushed. (Dabi might've walked through an open door without invitation, but Hawks actually had to bust in, even if it was with good intentions.)
In your sober state, you were more the type to default to a cold exterior when cornered; a poker face. You always worked super hard to appear ordinary and never worthy of suspicion in your day-to-day life — so why should now be any different?
The first time you reacted as yourself. This time you would react like (Cover name) would.
I knew you'd be this way (L/n). . . Dabi's voice reverberated in your head.
"Are you getting me confused with another fling of yours, Dabi?" You played off the significance of his use of your real last name.
"I would never confuse you with anyone else." He said, a bit perturbed.
"Then just who exactly are you talking about?" Yes, you knew where the conversation would go eventually, but there was no way you'd give him the satisfaction of getting some overly showy or ultra passive reaction from you.
"You play an impressive game (L/n), which means I won't be wasting any more of your time. If you won't admit to me who you are, then I'll remind you of who you are. You are (Y/n) (L/n), born here in Yokohama in 1999. You excelled in school, sports, and other extracurriculars. You were raised by Kazuha (L/n) and Yuna —"
"That's quite enough Dabi." You didn't want to hear your mothers name coming from the mouth of any godforsaken man right now.
You sat up from the other couch, beginning to saunter towards him. "So, you've proved that you know your shit. . ." You brushed the side of the other couch, the couch he was sitting on with your fingertips, as you moved to stand behind him. Whispering into his ear, you crouched over the back of the couch, and declared "so what if I am (Y/n) (L/n)? Wouldn't it be a pity if you came all the way here just to confirm that?"
"You're right, it would be." He said, still looking ahead.
You were slowly backing away from the couch, when, next thing you knew, the couch had come sprawling right at you.
Dabi had turned around and pushed it backwards with all his might.
With only a narrow space between you, the couch, and the kitchen island, you were forced to use your quirk to gain the proficiency that was necessary to leap over the moving couch in time. (You absolutely did not want to be squished or put into a vulnerable position at the moment.)
Landing lightly, you looked up to be met with Dabi above you. "That's what I wanted to confirm."
Unready for the closeness, you tried to push him away, and he let you.
He then walked over to the couch that had come closer to the wall. You wondered what else he'd planned to do, when, surprisingly, he began to push it back to its original position.
"Didn't mean to scare you that bad, (L/n). I just wanted to see you use your quirk for something other than mixing me up a drink."
"Scared? You're mistaken. I'm a bit frustrated is all — but since when do men know how to accurately read a woman's emotions?"
"You look great when you're frustrated, then." Dabi unelaborated.
"I'm sorry, but can you stick to one personality for even a second?" You insulted him.
"I could say the same to you, you've gone from serious to cold to flirtatious and back more times than I can count." He argued.
"Then let's stay serious shall we?" You proposed.
"(Y/n)." He began. "How does it feel to barely use your quirk? How does it feel to have clipped your own wings?"
"It's tough sometimes, but tough is fine enough for me. . ." You admitted.
"You've been on your own for over five years, but why? What did you choose to run from?"
"I'm defending something. Not running."
"Not running? How?" Dabi pushed.
"I'm defending a promise I made to my mother — and before you ask, I promised her to never join the HPSC. They tried to enlist me for my quirk at a young age, but my mother wouldn't stand for it." (You definitely felt better going over your past when sober.)
"Why would your mother marry a member of the HPSC, then?
"I'm not sure of that. But what I am sure of is that the way the HPSC tried to change my mothers mind. . . It was despicable. They took everything from her, and then from me after she died, because I refused them."
Dabi was glad now. By opening yourself up to him about your past, he began to conjure up a picture of how he could get you to see things from his end.
"It's sick ain't it?" He consoled you.
"It's a reality I've come to live with."
"It doesn't have to be like this. The system is broken." He went on. "It has been broken for far too long."
"Oh, is it now?"
"A broken system makes for a broken society, wouldn't you agree?" Dabi philosophised. "And it's the false heroes we've come to know through the HPSC that ensure power is consolidated in their corrupt system."
"And what do you propose we do about that?"
"It's simple; we topple the system." You thought it sounded as if Dabi had said this line numerous times, seeing as the conviction was certainly there.
"That could hurt a lot of people who don't deserve to be hurt."
"It would save who knows how many people in the future, though. It would bring about real freedom for countless people."
"That's just your way of saying that you don't have an idea of what would replace the current system."
"You think you were the only kid the HPSC was after? You think it's over for you? Don't you wanna save all the people the HPSC's decided to fuck with?"
More than anything, you didn't want anyone else to suffer the way you did. You knew what Dabi was proposing was overtly harmful and immoral, but you also knew that your head didn't completely dismiss the idea.
"I do. Of course I do. But how is a violent revolution supposed to be the answer?"
"Awhhh, sweet naive (Y/n), how is it not the answer? You can't create change by grovelling at other peoples feet. Besides, heroes use violence too, they just try not to kill people, and even then, it's not unheard of."
"Prison's better than death." You objected.
"Is it? Being forced to live without living sounds the same as death without dying."
"It'd be better if no one suffered. . ." You sighed.
"Quite the idealist now, aren't you?"
"Better than a radical." You tried to insult him.
"All radicals were idealists once. It just takes time for the world to push you to the edge."
"Guess that's true." You said, uncertainly.
"Question is, how much time will it take you?"
Remembering the mission, you spoke up. "I'm not entirely sure."
"You see, (Y/n), if you really didn't want this, the answer would've been something heroic. It would have been something like — it doesn't matter how much time passes, I'll never resort to the methods of a radical." He mimicked your voice. "But that's not what you said, is it?"
"It doesn't mean shit."
"Join the League." He announced. "Hell, I'll even do most of the dirty work for ya, doll."
"I don't think you want a dead weight member." You continued stringing him along.
"I wouldn't have come all this way if I thought that of you, (L/n)."
"Maybe, but I struggle to believe your boss would want a member who isn't strongly loyal."
"Shigaraki doesn't care if you're loyal to him. I'm not even loyal to 'em. All that matters is loyalty to the cause, and I see that in you."
"Loyalty to the cause. . ." You slowly repeated.
"Be your old self again, (L/n), your real self, pursuing a real cause."
"Look, Dabi, even if I joined you, I can't afford to throw away the things I do have, like my job and a stable life."
"For starters, just reduce your work hours or switch to earlier shifts, at least on the weekends. And as long as you don't go recklessly letting the HPSC find out you're working with us, you can still live in your apartment. Capiche?"
"Fine." You huffed.
"Good."
"Now what?" You asked him.
"I bring ya to the League."
"Woah, woah, woah, Dabi, that's crazy. Just give me a day, please?"
"I knew it wouldn't be that easy." He deviously grinned. "Alright, I'll be back around this time tomorrow. You just sit tight in the meantime — no use in disappearing again, right?"
"Right." You repeated.
Dabi grabbed your hand, lightly pressing a burner phone into your palm. "Keep this safe at all times. It's only got my number right now, but I'll add the rest of the gang's numbers later on."
He began to walk towards the door.
"Don't expect a call or anything, I can take care of myself for the night." You called out.
"Well, if you change your mind, I'd be more than happy to take care of you tonight." He winked.
"Go burn down an orphanage or whatever it is you do." You told him off, shutting the door behind him.
"If you say so." He said back from outside the door.
Leaving from this encounter, Dabi and (Y/n) each thought they played the other well, not knowing just how little they knew about what was going on in the grand scheme of things.
Is knowledge power, or is it the less you know, the less there is to hurt you?
To be continued. . .