Flea

Chapter Forty Two (Part Two)

Dabi made it to the curtain first. He tore the fabric aside like paper and strode into 'Palace of Eros's' top apartment with a cobalt fireball already searing in his right hand. The scene in front of him wasn't exactly what he'd expected. 

A busty middle-aged woman in a tight blouse calmly rotating from side to side in her office chair and puffing on a cigarette. Dyed black hair in a perm contrasted strongly with her heavyset face, reminding Dabi of those bulldogs who got frizzed up for dog shows. The makeup applied so heavily it caked unpleasantly didn't help things either. 

A balding man in a rumpled suit was leaning on the desk over her. His tie hung around his flushed neck with an abandon that indicated complete loss of control; he was shouting so hard spittle covered the furniture's surface like a distasteful film. Yet even though he'd just hurled death threats around, Dabi dismissed him quickly as a proper opponent. The man didn't have what it took. He felt it. 

Psyche clearly sensed the same thing, because she just took long draughts of her cigarette and seemed to be calmly waiting for him to run out of breath. Dabi noticed she had one hand surreptitiously under her desk, however. Most likely a panic button that alerted the receptionist downstairs that she needed backup. A receptionist they'd just taken out of commission. 

Dabi's inferno drew their attention and Spitfire paled, eyes widening at the sight of him. The idiot actually managed to back away and raise his hands above his head before Dabi reached him. Grabbing his collar, the scarred man picked him up and slammed him against a wall. His squeak of terror was so pathetic it wasn't even amusing. 

"Magne, darling!" Psyche exclaimed, fully ignoring the fact a villain was almost burning her client's face off. The brothel owner's voice had the deep, hoarse quality of heavy smokers. Getting up from her desk, she hurried around it and kissed the magnet user on both cheeks. 

"It's great to see you, dear, I worried with your new supervillain status you'd forget your roots and stop visiting." 

Their conversation left Dabi in an awkward situation. He couldn't let the man go, but Spitfire had also started blubbering and Dabi was worried that he'd get tears or worse, snot on his coat. Shigaraki was watching with a shit-eating grin behind his hand without helping at all.

"Please don't kill me," Spitfire sobbed, his rotund self shrinking against the wall. The asshole's wailing was so obnoxious Dabi was tempted to just end him to make it stop.  

"This fine gentleman isn't going to murder you, Takahashi, don't be ridiculous. You can let him go, Sugar," she addressed Dabi with a wink. Oh, God. 

He gave Spitfire a shove and the man staggered, collapsing into the chair he'd vacated to begin the one-sided shouting match. Takahashi was wheezing and bright red from shock, which induced an eye roll. Dabi couldn't help but remember Maeve's sharp retorts and sarcasm, even after she'd just heaved her stomach up over a villain's toilet. The contrast between her and this pot-bellied, pathetic specimen of a businessman was palpable.    

"So," Psyche said to Takahashi, sauntering back around the desk to her seat and twirling a cigarette between blood-red nails. 

"Let me get this straight. I'm sorry, the shouting was inarticulate most of the time. You've been enjoying the pleasure of our services for the last few months, with no complaint. Then a couple of days ago, while in bed asleep with your wife, you went under and began sleep talking." 

The brothel owner paused to tap her cigarette ash onto a tray. Dabi opened his mouth to ask a question, but Magne kicked him in the shin and he settled down to just watch. 

"She was furious, took the kids while I was still-" Takahashi's eyes flicked from side to side wildly "-you know. When I woke up the house was empty and a note on the table told me I could expect divorce papers soon. This place is supposed to be the best, you're supposed to know what you're doing, but now I'm losing everything and it's YOUR FAULT."