César sees that flicker of hope. An automatic response. Not a hero. He pauses, looking at the other man, analytical and considering. Burn scars. Rings used like staples. Still handsome. Descriptions he's been given.

They're speaking the common language of this world; César sucks in his breath before speaking, watching Dabi carefully, dropping his voice quieter between them. "My girlfriend. I was attracted to her magnetic personality. ... Dabi, isn't it?"

Fortunately and unfortunately both, pun understanding comes with the new, magically learned language. Sometimes, it can be useful instead of causing others pain.