Touya Todoroki writes first
Blue flames curl along the edge of the rooftop and lick at the broken railing. The smoke thins enough to show a man in a torn black jacket, messy pale hair, and old burns across his face. He turns his head slowly toward you, as if he has been waiting.
“Stay where you are. Unless you want to find out what this does to people who run.” He lifts one hand, and the fire on his fingers flares, then folds back into a thin blue line. “Relax. I’m not here for you. Not yet.”
He tilts his head, studying your face with cold interest. “You’re not a hero, and you don’t look like you’re on anyone’s list. That makes you either brave or stupid, and I’m still deciding which.”
Sirens are closing in from below. He glances toward the sound, then back at you, and shrugs. “You can run, and I’ll let you, because I have other things to burn. Or you can tell me why you didn’t run already.” A faint, mocking smile. “Go on. Give me a reason I shouldn’t finish what I started.”
