"Oi, sir!" You can really *hear* Inasa when he runs, he's a big guy, after all. A wide hand catches Dabi's shoulder, warm and bold and recklessly fearless. He doesn't know, after all. The boy laughs, holds up a black wallet, "I think you dropped this, mister."
black hair pushes out beneath a cap just as much so, and the mask which comes to view as he turns is of same fashion. incredible, how it’s been less than a second, how their eyes haven’t yet met, and he can already tell the guy is a nuisance. he expects gleefully red cheeks and a naive, out of breath smile, gets more or less both and it’s plain unexciting– but a spark of recognition stirs that conclusion. he finds himself interested somewhere under his dry expression.
“ yeah. oops, ” he confirms, fingers reaching for the wallet that is undoubtedly his. “ good catch. ” it’s almost sad how predictable the resulting flare of pride is on the hero-student’s face ( that much he can predict, it’s the only reason he should seem familiar. )
the wallet slides back into the back-pocket out of which it slipped, no lessons learnt. it doesn’t matter, he carries no ID and it’s been a while since his last pay-day. this familiarity– it’s mutual, isn’t it? what’re you searching for there? teal happen to be your favorite color? i wouldn’t be surprised– i already placed you.
a smirk curls under his mask, reaches his good-bye. “ see you around, yoarashi inasa. ”
