Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

“I want a divorce.”

The statement is met with silence. Shouto, who’s busy playing with his brand new All-Might plushie – a gift Dabi got for him a few days ago, both to annoy Endeavor and get into his brother’s good graces – looks up curiously, while Natsuo exchanges a concerned glance with a frowning Fuyumi. Rei puts a hand on Dabi’s shoulder.

“You can’t divorce you father, Touya,” she says gently, her voice almost apologetic.

“Yeah, dumbass, you’re not the one who’s married to him,” Natsuo adds unnecessarily, sending him a condescending look.

Deciding his family is no fun at all, Dabi rolls his eyes. “I didn’t say I was going to be divorcing him. I just said I wanted a divorce.”

Rei responds with an amused huff, surprising even herself with her reaction. She smiles at him and reaches down to ruffle his hair. It’s nice, but he can’t have her thinking that, so he hisses like a startled cat and leans away from the touch. Natsu and Fuyumi both chuckle from where they’re sitting, playing Macao at the coffee table, while Shouto stares at their mother longingly, like he would like to demand a head pat too.

“I can’t just divorce him, you know that,” Rei explains patiently, although there’s an undeniable frustration in the way she holds herself. Dabi can see the shadow in her eyes that never seems to go away nowadays. “With his position and financial status, even if I somehow managed to get a divorce, he would get to keep the custody of you all. Surely that’s not what you want?”

Dabi can’t help but grit his teeth in annoyance. There’s nothing he hates more than feeling helpless. Even with the extensive knowledge of the future on his side, it turns out he’s still powerless against his father’s money. It doesn’t help that everyone else seems to be much less eager to do anything about dear Enji than he would like. 

They’ve been having these ‘secret family meetings’ recently, a little rebellious tradition they came up with to be able to discuss important things without Endeavor looming over their heads. This is one of them. Most often than not, they just turn into them five spending some quality bonding time together, which is great, don’t get him wrong. Today, though, Dabi wanted them to actually have a serious conversation, one that they’ve been putting off for weeks now. It all started after Enji’s sudden decision to become a better person. Not a good person, mind you, just a little less shitty one. Truth be told, they didn’t even notice he was trying at first. They just assumed he was simply avoiding them, until the man explicitly informed them what he was doing, citing that one fight with Dabi as his incentive. Since then, Endeavor has been attempting to be a little less terrible and is still at it now, four weeks later.

The problem being, Dabi doesn’t give a shit. The sooner he can get everyone out of this house, the better.

“Exactly!” Fuyumi exclaims, sitting up straighter and pointing at him with her hand that’s holding her cards. Taking advantage of her distraction, Natsuo peaks at the numbers and grins to himself. “And I know you have your… opinions, about dad, but do you really think abandoning him now that he finally wants to change is the right thing to do?”   

“Yes.”

His sister groans. Dabi isn’t sure what answer she was expecting. He’s pretty certain he’s made his feelings about Endeavor clear enough. Natsuo, the person who understands him the most, chuckles and raises his palm and Dabi accepts the high five with pleasure. Curled on an armchair, with a momentarily discarded book in her hand, Rei watches them with a strange expression on her face, something between amusement and melancholy.

See, Dabi isn’t stupid. In that future that used to be his present, he’s heard all about Endeavor trying to redeem himself too. With his boyfriend’s best friend dating his sister, it was inevitable. Apparently, Fuyumi was over the moon about this development and spent a lot of time gushing about them ‘finally having a real family’. She never mentioned how the rest of this family felt though, which was rather telling.

And, well, Dabi wasn’t buying it even then. It’s not redemption if all you do after years of abuse is say you’re sorry and try to stop being a dick. No, you have to suffer consequences. There has to be some accountability if the forgiveness people choose to grant you is to mean anything. Deciding to still keep that abuse a secret and continuing to work as the Number One? It only means Enji was never serious about his atonement, even if he was serious in his regrets.

Not to mention that Dabi has a lot more history, terrible history, with his father than the rest of his family. He knows what Endeavor is capable of. He doesn’t think he will ever forget the feeling of his skin melting under his father’s hands. He knows people like that don’t change. But his family has no way of knowing that. They could never understand the depths of hatred Dabi holds for that man. Not without witnessing all the horrors he caused, horrors that haunt Dabi’s nightmares even now, years after getting away.

He's perfectly aware that he’s the only one of them totally against giving their father another chance. Which is quite funny, considering it was apparently his little speech that caused this change to begin with. Fuyumi, naturally, didn’t need much convincing. Shouto appears to be indifferent, but Dabi caught him smiling slightly after Endeavor awkwardly complimented his drawing a few days ago. Even Natsu is secretly alright with it, although he pretends not to be in order to impress him.

The only one who is nearly as unenthusiastic with their forgiveness as him is, unsurprisingly, Rei herself. But even she’s not able to outright tell him to shove it.

“Very mature of you,” Fuyumi sighs, glaring at him with disappointment. She puts down one of her cards without even glancing at it. Natsuo doesn’t even bother hiding his cheating anymore. “You don’t have to like him. I know he’s been harsh on you. But don’t you think the rest of us deserve a good father?”

Dabi resist an urge to yank on his hair in frustration. “You know marriage isn’t a one-in-a-lifetime thing, right? Mum could find someone else who will actually love her and, you know, already be a good person.”

He knows they don’t understand,. He knows. They can’t - they aren’t the ones who can barely stand their own reflection because of how much they resemble the man who did nothing but hurt. They weren’t there when the house was woken up by a heart-wrenching scream of a child getting boiling water poured all over his face. They weren’t there when Endeavor slapped his sobbing wife into submission and thrown her out without a second thought. They certainly weren’t there when Touya’s life burned to ashes in their combined flames.

Still, it’s so fucking annoying. Not for the first time, he wonders if he should tell them the truth. Keigo took it well enough. Surely they would accept it too, after a while. And maybe then he would be able to explain why trusting Endeavor isn’t something he can ever do. Why, even if he’s not lying, he doesn’t deserve a second chance.

(Perhaps Dabi is a bit of a hypocrite – after all, he himself is sitting here, on a plush carpet in a luxurious mansion, instead of rotting in a prison cell like he probably should. But he never claimed to be a good person. And it’s not like he thinks he deserves his second chance either.)

Really, the only thing holding him back from telling them everything is fear. He’s never been the best at trusting people, even people closest to him – his own boyfriend was a traitor, after all, no matter how much they didn’t talk about it – and so opening up about something this big terrifies him.

What if they don’t believe him? What if they think he’s making it up specifically to convince them to give up on Endeavor? Or worse, what if they do believe him and then hate him for what he’s done? Or what he hasn’t done?

(He was supposed to protect them.)

“New dad sounds cool.” Shouto nods to himself, staring at his plushie with an intensity no other six-year-old could ever hope to achieve. “You should marry All Might, mum. Or Gang Orca. They seem cool.”

“I second the Gang Orca proposition,” Dabi says, allowing his messy thoughts to take a backseat for a moment. He tries to keep his expression serious, but he can feel the corners of his mouth twitching. “I heard he’s great with kids.”

Fuyumi huffs and rolls her eyes, although she too is hiding a smile. Natsuo’s eyes light up and he nearly jumps out of his seat, cards all but forgotten.

“Yeah, Gang Orca is so awesome! You should totally marry him, mum!”

Rei laughs quietly, looking at all of them with fondness. She’s been doing better these last few weeks, Dabi noticed. With Endeavor’s absence, she’s gained some of her control back. She’s not fine yet – she might never be, not fully – but Dabi thinks this time spent with her children is really doing her good.

“I will think about it,” she promises softly. 

Unfortunately, not everyone likes fun in this house.

“Can you all please take it seriously for a minute?” Fuyumi sighs, folding her arms. There’s no evidence left of her smiling just a moment ago. “I know he hurt us, okay? I’m not stupid, I know he’s not perfect and that he needs to put… a lot of effort into fixing this if it’s going to work, but… He’s our father. I want to give him a chance. Is that really so bad?”

“It’s been over three weeks of his ‘trying’,” Dabi points out, making sure to visualise the air quotes, his voice dripping with sarcasm. “And nothing’s really changed, has it?”

Believe him, he’s not being cruel because he enjoys it. He would love nothing else but to allow her this hope – if only he wasn’t so sure it’s going to hurt her.

His sister winces and he tries not to feel guilty about it. “That’s not true. He’s been doing better. It’s just—it’s not that easy.”

“What, not being an asshole? I don’t see you, or anyone else here, struggling with that.”

She sends him a pointed glare. “I would say there is one such person.”

“Come on now, no fighting,” Rein intervenes before Dabi can respond. “Fuyumi, don’t be mean to your brother. And Touya, Fuyumi has a right to forgive your father if she wants to. It’s completely understandable if you can’t, of course, but—”

“Whatever,” he interrupts harshly, springing up from his place on the floor. He’s not sure where the sudden anger is coming from, but he grits his teeth and clenches his fists to keep it in. The last thing he wants is to take it out on them. “Believe his lies if you want to, see if I care. But don’t tell me I didn’t warn you when it all blows up in your face.”

Not waiting for a response, he storms out of the room, heading for the front door. He ignores it when they call after him. His entire body is buzzing with rage, the same rage that seems to be permanently lurking under his skin, waiting for the smallest spark to prompt it and send him into a fit. It won’t go away, he knows, unless he takes it out on something. And this something sure as hell isn’t going to be his family.

Not bothering to grab any of the stuff he might need, Dabi gets out of the house and nearly runs towards the train station. There is only one place he needs to be right now.  

***

Dabi doesn’t mean to become a vigilante – it just sort of happens.

To be honest, when he came here for his very cool and very illegal tattoo, he thought it would be the first and the last time he ever visits this particular part of town this time around. He should have known better. The tantalizing promise of familiarity and freedom ends up pulling him back in like a magnet. Soon, he finds himself back where he belongs – in the dark alleys and abandoned buildings, places that leave his clothes dirty and his knuckles bloody, and echo oh so painfully with the faded voices of his old friends. It’s a strange sort of addiction one develops from living in places like this, something unlike any drug. The thrill of danger awaiting at every turn, the exhilaration of once again barely evading death, the primal desire to dominate those weaker than you – this deep unnamed craving in your chest that drags you deeper and deeper until you can’t function without it. It doesn’t matter who Todoroki Touya was or what kind of life Dabi managed to steal from him. In the end, Dabi is and will always be just another outcast left on these streets to rot.

You can take the rat out of the sewers, but you can’t take the sewers out of the rat – or something like that.

The point is, things got weird in the house after Endeavor’s little change of heart and Dabi needed some outlet for his growing frustrations. So he started leaving. Not permanently, never permanently, but more and more with each day. And, well, one thing led to another and suddenly he’s sneaking out every night to punch some baddies in the face. These streets are dangerous after dark, full of shady people doing shady things, and Dabi is strong.

It only makes sense that he accidentally earns himself a reputation.

Frankly, he hates it. He’s not trying to be hero. It’s just, beating the shit out of people is a really great way to let off some steam, you know? Always has been. It’s fun! And Dabi really, really need some fun right now. What he also needs though is not to be arrested – so vigilanting it is. It’s not like he cares about saving anyone – he doesn’t. He’s just taking advantage of the fact that society will gladly turn a blind eye to his morally questionable actions if his victims happen to be criminals. That’s all there is to it.

(Often, he finds himself thinking how funny it is that doing exactly the same things to civilians would instantly classify him back as a villain. The double standards these people have are honestly disgusting.)  

Effortlessly twisting some thug’s arm behind his back until it lets out an ugly snap, he kicks at the guys knees to get him down. He caught this one trying to beat up some old man in one of the less populated alleys. The grandpa must have been over seventy and could barely walk, wobbling unsteadily even with a cool silver cane as his support.

(And like, who does that? Even for a bad guy, that's just pathetic. What was he even going to steal from that man? His false teeth?)

The criminal is much bigger than him and heavier too, but currently he’s not putting up much of a fight – probably because Dabi made sure to hit him over the head with that cool silver cane just moments earlier – so really, it’s almost too easy to immobilize him. Dabi’s sort of disappointed. Are his fighting skills that good or are the villains here truly so pathetic? Whenever he happened to fight someone in hand-to-hand combat before – which, admittedly, was not often – it tended to pose a bit more of a challenge.

Though, now that he's thinking about it, maybe fighting is just easier in general when your skin doesn’t feel like it’s going to tear with one harsher tug.

Dabi smiles bitterly at that thought as he pulls out some glittery pink cable ties (what? he's having fun, okay?) and uses them to secure the guy’s hands together in case he turns out to be even more of an idiot and tries to run. Then, he grabs the discarded cane and hits him over the head once again for good measure. Honestly, attacking a grandpa? What kind of lame villain this guy must be?

Dabi sighs as he looks around – they are quite deep in this alley, not very far from the main street but also not close enough for anyone to notice them easily – and wonders if he should call the police. The hero patrols in this district are basically non-existent, so just leaving the guy to be found and arrested is, unfortunately, not an option. That’s probably why people are so eager to welcome a new vigilante, now that he thinks about it – he might be something of an enigma, someone a bit too violent and maybe a little too short not to raise any eyebrows, but at least he helps. The same cannot be said about any regular authorities.

Still, Dabi knows he should alert someone. He relives this exact dilemma every time he beats up yet another villain and it might have only been a few weeks, but there were a lot of them. Like, a lot. Unfortunately, his options are pretty limited. Technically, he could set the man on fire and be done with it, but he’s trying this whole ‘not killing people’ thing this time around, so that’s one idea out. He could also simply leave him be, he supposes, but he knows the guy will most likely manage to escape before anyone else stumbles upon him and who knows what victims he might target next. Old ladies selling flowers? Kids with cancer? Puppies? Dabi isn't too keen on letting that happen.

On the other hand, he fucking hates police. He hates them almost as much as he hates heroes – not surprising, after all the times they turned him away when he tried to tell them about his father's abuse and they told him to stop making stupid jokes. Asking them for help feels like a betrayal to his younger self. Plus, he despises phone calls.

Maybe he can start a fire in the garbage can nearby so someone would have to come take a look?

Before he can decide, he hears a thump of someone landing on the ground behind him and suddenly there’s a lot of white fabric wrapped all around him. He glances down at it blankly, then experimentally tries to move his arm. The fabric doesn’t budge an inch. It feels unnaturally hard against his skin, like it’s made of metal or something. The feeling is, regrettably, quite familiar feeling. And, like, come on. Why does it have to happen to him?

“Eraser,” he sighs under his breath and doesn’t let himself relax. He might be more or less sure the hero wouldn’t hurt him without a reason, but, well, arresting him is a completely different thing.

Instincts are a fucking bitch to control though and so he’s burning the capture weapon before he can think any better, rather annoyed that he’s the one being restrained when the real criminal is lying on the ground right next to him. Stretching his newly freed limbs, he turns around to face the intruder and is met with Eraser’s unimpressed expression. The hero has his arms crossed over his chest, looking exactly like a teacher scolding a misbehaving student – but his body is taut and ready to strike at a moment’s notice. He doesn’t attack first though and so Dabi doesn’t either.

Some tenseness leaves the man once he gets a good look at Dabi’s face and his eyebrows raise in surprise. “You’re that kid.”

Dabi clenches his fists, cursing inwardly and trying very hard to keep his own expression neutral, lest he gives himself away. He’s wearing a medical mask, for fuck’s sake. How did the hero even recognize him?. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Sadly, Eraserhead does not look like he buys it. “What, you mean to tell me there is more than one kid with a powerful blue fire quirk wandering around this part of town?”  

Dabi shrugs, continuing to play indifferent. He knew he shouldn’t have used his quirk those few times. It was bound to bite him in the ass. “Do I look like I know everyone here?”

“Yes.”

“Rude.”

Eraser is not apologetic, simply sending him a deadpan look in response. Dabi rolls his eyes, but finds it hard to be truly offended. Especially considering he does look very much like a delinquent. And also that there’s an unconscious, beaten up guy lying right next to him.

“Who’s that?” the hero changes the subject abruptly, pointing at the unmoving body. He seems more curious than angry, meaning he probably already knows the answer.

“Some dick who thought beating up old people was an okay thing to do,” Dabi drawls with another shrug, grimacing slightly at the memory of the terrified, bruised old man, barely managing to stagger away without the support of his cane but too eager to leave after his assailant was pushed off him to bother with picking it up.

“So, I’m assuming you’re the new vigilante?” The man narrows his eyes, his head tilted just so, and takes a step closer. Dabi tenses instantly, ready to defend himself if he has to. “Dabi, is it?”

Yes, so maybe he did make sure people know him under that name again. What about it. Ever since he arrived in this weird past it was ‘Touya this’, ‘Touya that’ and he’s gotten sick of it. It’s not his name anymore – his name is Dabi. He chose it, he made it his own and he wants to be called that again. Even if only by the criminals he takes down.

“Depends who’s asking,” he answers warily, subtly checking if there’s a chance he might be able to run away somehow.

The answer is not really, at least if he wants to keep his record in this world murder-free for a little bit longer.

Eraser frowns. “You know who I am. I heard you call my hero name.”

“Yes,” Dabi says, sighing heavily at the fact that he needs to explain. “But is it Eraserhead asking me? Or is it you?”

The man’s dark eyes widen slightly in realization. “Oh, you’re asking if I’m going to arrest you.”

Dabi snorts. “Wow, how did you figure it out?”

It’s a bit bizarre to see Eraser like this. So young and kinda clumsy. He looks a lot like Dabi remembers him – his hair is just as messy, his clothes baggy and unfashionable, the dark circles under his eyes as present as ever. His posture, though, is different. Not as confident. Tense. Far from the hero he fought during this whole training camp thing. The future Eraser was definitely older than Dabi, a proper adult, hardened by life and years of work experience. This version of him is clearly younger, maybe twenty, fresh in the hero industry.

Eraser stares at him for a long moment as if debating intensely over his choices, until finally he tsks. “I’m not going to arrest you. You have no idea how much I heard about you these past few weeks.” He sighs and rubs his temples. “How old even are you?”

Dabi can’t help but scoff. “As if I would tell you.”

“You’re clearly too young—”

“I’m old enough.”

They glare at each other, both waiting for the other to give up, and Dabi used to play this childish game with Shigaraki so much he could easily do this all night. Eventually, the hero sighs again and looks away. Dabi can’t help but smirk in satisfaction.

“You said you weren’t homeless and yet you spend so much time here,” the man pries, watching Dabi like a hawk. “Why?”

Irrationally, Dabi feels the need to cover the bruises that aren’t even that visible under his clothes. It’s a ridiculous urge. They’re not even from home this time! He got them from his vigilante fights! So why the hell does it matter if Eraser sees them?

“Someone has to, since heroes clearly don’t give a fuck about this place,” he counters bitterly, hoping to change the subject from his home situation to the general hero hating. 

It doesn't work.

“Still, you’re out pretty late." Eraser pushes, his gaze piercing. "Your parents aren’t worried?”

Dabi rolls his eyes, way too tired to bother with niceties and very much done with this useless conversation. “Jesus, can’t you just fuck off? It’s none of your fucking business what my parents think.”

It’s getting late, he thinks. He really should be heading back if he wants to be able to buy his regular energy drinks before heading back and still be home before anyone notices his absence. Rei would definitely panic if she found his bed empty and that’s literally the last thing he needs.   

Eraser doesn’t seem put off by his rather rude answer though, merely levelling him with yet another unimpressed look. “It is my business if they’re neglecting you. No kid your age should be out at night fighting crime, no matter how good you think you are at it.”

“You don’t know what age I am.” Dabi reminds him flatly.

Eraser raises an eyebrow. “From your behaviour, I would say you’re definitely a high schooler.” Wait, what. “Your voice is another tell. You sound almost like my cousin and he's twelve." Okay, fuck not being a villain, Dabi is going to torch that guy. "The point is, you’re clearly underage and that’s all I care about. It’s just…" the hero hesitates, most likely already knowing what kind of reaction to expect. "If your parents are mistreating you, you can tell me. I will help you.”

Dabi lets out another snort, the familiar sting of burning anger humming under his skin. “Oh yeah, I’m sure you will. Just like the police did when they told me to stop making stupid jokes, right? Just like everyone else did when they found out. When they laughed it off and said it was impossible, that I must be exaggerating.” His voice is filled with years’ old resentment and disgust. Then he chuckles darkly. “Abuse. So funny, isn’t it?" Turning serious again, he continues, forceful enough to hopefully make the man leave him alone for good, "You can’t do shit about my parents, hero, so just take this fucker to jail or whatever and kindly fuck off.”

He didn’t mean to say any of that. He’s not sure why he did. Not willing to deal with the annoyance any longer than necessary, Dabi attempts to make his way past the man towards the entrance of the alley. At first, the man does nothing to stop him, allowing him to pass without a word. Still, Dabi’s breath is already speeding up and there are flickers of fire dancing between his fingers and shit, he’s pissed again, great, just after he managed to finally calm down.

Fucking heroes.

“Wait!”

What did he just say? Gritting his teeth, he continues to stomp away. What does this man want from him? If he’s not going to arrest him, then Dabi sees no point in talking to him any further.

Eraser clearly disagrees. “Dabi, wait!” he repeats, a bit less demanding, a bit more pleading.

Dabi does not wait. When he hears the capture weapon coming again (hasn’t Dabi burned it? how much of it does Eraser have?), he immediately raises a wall of fire to prevent it from reaching him. The fabric hisses as it burns, leaving behind a rather unpleasant smell. Dabi glares at the annoying hero with all the rage he can muster, trying very hard not to imagine how nicely his skin would hiss under his flames too.

“I said. Fuck. Off.”

Not bothering to wait and see if the man will listen, Dabi makes his fire burn higher, effectively obscuring himself from view for the precious few seconds it takes him to run away. He spares a moment to hope no one dies in the fire he’s leaving behind, but honestly? At this point, he really couldn’t care less.

***

The next day is, regrettably, a school day. And school is… bad. Very bad. Horrible, even. Nightmarish. Awful. Abhorrent. Disgusting. Dreadful. The worst thing that has ever happened to him and he’s been literally burned to death before. Vile. Bad.

You get the picture.

He hates to say it but it’s true. That bullshit Keigo sprouted about Touya’s ingenuity? Yeah, that’s definitely gone. Dabi just wasn’t made for math, you know? Some people aren’t math people and that’s okay. That’s how it is. He couldn’t tell you what a differential is, sure, but he could easily break your leg, so really, who’s the winner here? And hey, it’s not like he’s ever going to use fractions to fight crime.

Hopefully.

“Wow, that’s bad,” Keigo says in a voice that’s probably supposed to be sympathetic. It doesn’t quite work, especially when his lips are stretched into a satisfied smirk as he casually waves around his paper where a proud 100% is written in red ink.

Dabi fights a ridiculous urge to cover his own red fat 0% somehow, rolling his eyes at Keigo’s childish antics. So what if he didn’t pass some stupid test? It doesn’t define him as a human being. It doesn’t mean that Keigo is better than him or anything. It’s simply bad luck, that’s all.

“Who cares about this shit?” He pushes the test away with a little too much force and leans back on his chair. “I will still kick everyone’s asses in practical class.”

Practical classes are probably the only reason his parents haven’t been contacted yet about his atrocious results from every single test they’ve taken in the past few weeks. That’s where he thrives – while beating people up, not reading some boring books. He’s pretty sure most teachers are convinced he’s going through something right now and that’s why they kind of go easy on him - even though he can’t even spell his name without making a fucking mistake. But he’s not stupid enough to believe it’s going to last.

“Look, I get it, you had a hard life,” Keigo continues, somehow having grabbed Dabi’s paper in the meantime. His faces twists into an unattractive grimace once he reads a particularly offensive answer. “But seriously, how can you not know what a function is?”

Dabi huffs. “I didn’t need it to do crime.” For a short moment, he lets himself enjoy the sight of Keigo trying not to look too disturbed by such an easy admittance of his previous nefarious deeds. But because he isn’t an entirely evil person, he continues with something less serious, “Also, I’m gay. I’m formally obligated to suck at math.”

Keigo lets out a surprised snort, which he ineptly tries to cover. Dabi can’t stop himself from sending him a self-satisfied grin. He loves being able to predict his friend’s reactions so well. Messing with him is way more fun that way.

“Shut up. I’m gay too and I did just fine.”

‘Just fine’, Dabi repeats mockingly in his head, glaring at the perfect score on Keigo’s paper. Sure, you could call it that.

Out loud, he says, “Didn’t you know? It’s a rule. You can’t cook and you can’t drive a car so you’re allowed to be good at math. But since I can cook, I’m legally required to be awful at both driving and math.”

Keigo rolls his eyes in exasperation, even as his mouth twitches in a beginning of a smile. “I would say you’re just awful, period.”

Dabi can only let out an offended gasp before whatever he’s about to answer gets drowned out by the bell ringing, signalling the end of the nightmare class. It’s just in time too, because immediately after it silences, Dabi’s stomach rumbles loudly – and, fortunately for him, it’s the lunch period. Keigo is already holding his bento that his loving mother apparently makes him every day – yeah, that’s a thing here, which is just super weird – and staring at Dabi impatiently. When did he even manage to stand up? Just to annoy him, and also because he can, Dabi takes his sweet time reaching for his own food. Never say he misses a chance to be a nuisance.  

Unlike most other days, when he simply grabs a single sad banana or a plain piece of bread – no, Keigo, he’s not trying to starve himself, okay, he’s just lazy – today, Dabi has his own rich bento, a (non)-living proof of his earlier claim about knowing how to cook. If someone were to ask him, he would swear he got manipulated into making it, since he’s a dramatic bitch. What actually happened was that Fuyumi bribed him with some nice make-up stuff to cook something for her and Natsu and, well, since he was already making food for them, then why not make some for himself too? That eyeshadow palette better be worth the two hours of sleep he lost because of it though.

“I’m seriously going to leave without you, if you don’t hurry up,” Keigo grumbles, resting his hip against his desk and crossing his arms over his chest. Irritation is such a lovely look on him.

“And leave your boyfriend to eat alone?” Dabi flutters his eyelashes innocently, face twisted into an exaggerated pout. But he does finish getting ready considerably quicker, so it’s still Keigo’s win in the end, even if his face colours a pretty shade of red.

“I’m not your boyfriend!”

“Boyfriend, fake-boyfriend, same difference.” Dabi waves a hand dismissively. Having collected all of his stuff, he jumps from his seat, grabs Keigo’s wrist and starts pulling him towards the door. “It still wouldn’t look well if you abandoned me like that.”

After he more-or-less accidentally told his father that Keigo was his boyfriend things got even more complicated between everyone involved. Endeavor, being a homophobic piece of shit, has been rather insistent in trying to convince him that he’s making a mistake and should pursue a genetically pleasant young lady instead – even going so far as to show Dabi some pictures to choose from, despite the silent (and occasionally less silent) disapproval from Rei. Naturally, Dabi’s response to those offers was usually a raised middle finger, accompanied by a firm reminder that he’s already a taken man and is not planning on changing that anytime soon. Although, he has to admit that while his father’s continued disapproval was the main incentive for keeping up the lie, the chance to see Keigo blush way more often was a close second.

They talked about this – or more like Dabi whined at Keigo until his friend reluctantly agreed – and so they decided to give this whole fake-dating thing a try. This way, Dabi not only gets to live out his fanfic fantasy but also has a chance to experience dating baby Hawks without feeling like a creep about it. They haven’t done anything more serious than a slightly prolonged hug or an occasional kiss on the cheek and Dabi fully intends to keep it that way.

To make sure the lie held up, Dabi insisted they needed to be seen as a couple by everyone, not just his parents, and so they continued the charade even at school. There were some mean comments directed at them at first, sure, but nothing too nasty. Most students and teachers already thought they were dating anyway, so in the end it wasn’t that big of a deal.  

Still, Dabi loves using this ‘relationship’ of theirs to his advantage. Keigo usually lets him, even if he’s a bit of a bitch about it.

“I’m sure people would understand.” His friend snorts, but intertwines their fingers anyway. The sensation is strange – Dabi and adult Hawks did a lot of romantic things with each other, but holding hands was not one of them – yet he finds himself enjoying it way too much for how innocent it is. “They have all met you, after all.”

Before Dabi can find some witty response to that, he’s interrupted by someone clearing their throat right behind them. This someone being their unusually serious math teacher.

Almost unwillingly, Dabi turns around to face her, Keigo following suit. He really doesn’t like her face expression – it can’t mean anything good for him, especially not after that failure of a test. Judging by the way Keigo squeezes his hand tighter, he isn’t alone in his worry.

The teacher is sat behind her desk and yet somehow she seems to be towering over them. The power she holds in a single polite smile is frankly terrifying. “Ah, Todoroki. Can you stay behind for a moment? I think we need to talk.”

He will never admit it out loud but her calm voice sends a shiver down his spine. Suddenly, he’s very glad to have something to hold on to, even if Keigo’s hand begins to feel a little sweaty.

With his free hand, Dabi scratches his neck nervously, a slip-up he instantly berates himself for. “I was actually going to eat lunch now…”

“It won’t take long,” she cuts him off, still with that blood-chilling smile.

“Yeah, well…”

Her gaze turns sharp. “I insist.”

Resigned to his fate, Dabi sighs and nods. He might be a lot of things but he’s definitely not a coward. If he’s to be murdered by his math teacher for being an absolute moron, then so be it. Maybe it’s his punishment for all his previous sins – being forced to tremble in fear before a woman shorter than him by at least fifteen centimetres because of fucking numbers. What a pitiful end to the big bad villain Dabi. 

“Takami, you can go eat your lunch in peace,” she says, sending the other boy a pointed look. “I would like to speak with Todoroki privately.”

“Oh.” Keigo blinks, clearly unsure how to proceed. His gaze meets Dabi’s, desperately searching for any clues. “Well, I—”

“It’s fine,” Dabi decides to save his birdie from his misery, even if he really would prefer not to be left alone with that frightening woman. Still, he has an image to maintain, so he schools his expression into blank indifference and waves Keigo off. “Just save us some seats or something. I will join you soon.”

“Ah, sure.” Keigo chuckles nervously, hesitantly letting go of Dabi’s hand. It’s a little pathetic, but he immediately feels cold without it. On his way out of the classroom, Keigo looks back at him one more time before awkwardly saying, “Eee… Good luck?” and then immediately bolting.

So much for being a supportive fake-boyfriend.

“So,” the teacher starts casually as she stands up and slowly walks up to Dabi’s usual desk. She grabs the abandoned test, takes one look at it and grimaces in disgust. Her expression doesn’t change much when she raises her eyes to stare at him. “Care to tell me what the hell this is?”

Her tone is deceptively calm, friendly even. It clashes terribly with her very un-teacherlike words. Are teachers even allowed to swear? Maybe Dabi could report her to the principal for it, get her fired before she can fail him?

“I will take a wild guess and say it’s a math test,” he mumbles in response and despite the mocking words there’s none of his usual cheek in them.

He briefly considers burning himself to death there and then as he feels his cheeks burn with shame that has no right to be there. He shouldn’t care about a stupid math test, not after everything that’s happened to him and yet. No matter how many times he loses, no matter how many thigs he fucks up, the acidic taste of failure in his mouth never gets any easier to swallow. Yet another thing to thank his father for, he supposes.

“It’s the third time in a row,” she says, completely ignoring his weak attempt at a joke. “Everything you wrote here is wrong. Everything. Half of these things we’ve already covered last year and I know you had no problems then!”

Not knowing what he could possibly answer to that, Dabi stays silent. It’s not like he can tell her that it wasn’t him who passed those previous tests. How can he explain that his father didn’t deem math important enough to include it in his home-schooling, not when he couldn’t even get the fighting part right? That while living on the streets the only important numbers where the number of days he could survive without food or how many new scars he’s got this week?

“I know you’ve been… going through something recently.” Her pointed stare lands on his dyed hair, his piercings, the black fishnets visible through large holes he cut in his uniform pants. “And I’ve been trying to be understanding, because I know how hard it must be for you, I do.”

Ah, there it is. The going through something excuse. She’s not wrong per se, Dabi has definitely been going through a lot recently – randomly time travelling ten years into the past is not exactly an everyday occurrence – but, sadly, it has nothing to do with his atrocious math skills. Of course, he’s can’t tell her that either. He’s not that stupid. It’s better if she simply believes he’s got so much on his shoulders that he just can’t focus on school properly. That has always been his plan to somehow hide the fact that he has nearly no school knowledge whatsoever. Only, as has been proven to him rather unpleasantly, it was only going to work for a pretty short amount of time.

“But we have rules here at Shiketsu and one of those rules is that every student needs to pass every subject, no matter if their primary interest is heroics,” she continues, trying to appear stern and apologetic at the same time. “Otherwise, you’re going to get expelled. And Todoroki, with how you’ve been doing recently, I’m afraid you’re going to fail my class.”

He winces, even though he wasn’t expecting anything else. “Okay.”

Dabi can’t really force himself to look at the teacher. He doesn’t need to see her disappointment as she’s telling him how much of a failure he is. Weird, really, that sudden apprehension. Shouldn’t he be used to it by now? Endeavor certainly never held back in reminding him about that fact. From the very beginning, from the first time he’s heard ‘school’ uttered at him, he’s known there was no way he would manage not to get kicked out.

It’s fine. He doesn’t need this shitty school. If that’s what they want, great, kick him out. At least he won’t have to bother with stupid homework anymore. And Endeavor’s going to be so delightfully mad too!

(Or he’s just going to laugh, his traitorous mind whispers venomously, say that he’s known from the very beginning that Dabi wasn’t good enough even for the inferior school like Shiketsu.)

(Shut up.)

Eventually, after the silence between them turns slightly uncomfortable, Dabi looks up at her. Instead of pity or disappointment he’s expecting, he’s met with determination. He blinks, taken aback.

“That’s all you have to say?” She raises an eyebrow, pursing her lips. “You’re really going to give up, just like that? Are you a hero student or not?”

Not, Dabi thinks, crossing his arms defensively and frowning at her. “Well, what do you want me to do?”

“I never said I’m failing you right now. It’s still possible for you to pass. We’re having this talk so you can consider how you’re going to do that.”

Can he even do that? Does he want to? He would have to put some work into his studies, that’s for sure. And even then, with so many gaps in his education, it might still be impossible to learn everything he needs for that class. Why would he waste time for something that can only end in failure? Wouldn’t it be easier, to give up now and spare himself the inevitable let-down?  

“Maybe I don’t want to do that,” he challenges, twisting his face into an ugly grimace. Why does she care anyway? With his recent rude behaviour, shouldn’t she be happy to get rid of him?

The teacher ignores him, as if she didn’t hear a word. “There is still one test left before the final exam. If you get at least 50% on the test and 60% on the exam, you will be able to pass.”

50%? 60%? Is she kidding? That’s definitely impossible.

“Have you somehow missed that zero on that?” He gestures towards the piece of paper the teacher is still holding. His voice is mocking, purposely disrespectful. “I will never be able to get a fifty.”

She furrows her eyebrows. “You got 23% on the previous test.” Yeah, because he cheated. Duh. “You still have two weeks until the next one. I see that you’re very… close… with Takami,” she pauses here, her frown deepening and it’s hard to tell whether it’s because they are two boys or because of that ridiculous rule about not dating at all that Shiketsu has for some reason. Still, she moves on without any further comments, “I’m sure he would be happy to help you with studying. Maybe ask your father for a tutor too. There’s a lot of options and giving up shouldn’t be one of them.”

Oh, yeah, great idea. Dabi’s sure his father would rather eat his own shoe than hire a tutor for any of his kids. Needing help means you’re not perfect. Not being perfect means you’re worthless. And if you’re worthless… well, he’s sure you can imagine.

Although, now that he thinks about it, maybe asking Endeavor for help and getting berated for it isn’t such a bad idea. If nothing else, it would be a good way to show his family that no matter what the man claims, he’s still the same asshole he’s always been. Too proud and selfish to care about his poor son’s education. He wonders what excuses Fuyumi would find to that.

Keigo… look, he doesn’t doubt that Keigo would be ecstatic to help him. Not to mention that he is kind of a genius at this whole school thing. The idea of asking him still doesn’t quite sit well with Dabi though. The teasing he would have to endure… Not getting expelled just isn’t worth it.

On the other hand, if he actually does get kicked out, he will never hear the end of it. Keigo made it very clear many times, particularly while trying to convince him to wear that horrendous uniform, that he really doesn’t want Dabi to leave. Especially since they are kind of each other’s only close friends, at least in their year.   

The teacher must notice his internal battle because her face visibly softens. She looks more like she’s talking to a spooked wild animal than a failing student and Dabi tries very hard not to get offended. “You’re a smart boy, you’re just having some troubles. It happens to everyone.” She throws the test away, letting it fall to the ground carelessly. “Forget about failures. Fight for your place here, not because I’m telling you to, but because you deserve it. It might be hard but once you succeed, it’s going to be the best feeling in the world.”

He opens his mouth to… protest, maybe, he doesn’t even know, but it doesn’t matter because then she’s smiling at him gently and it’s so foreign that it strikes him speechless. 

“I know you can do this, Touya. You just need to believe it too.”

When Dabi finally finds Keigo, his mind still mulling over the teacher’s words, he’s displeased to see that his friend is not alone.

Two other people accompany him, both of them upperclassmen, both of them girls, both of them vaguely familiar. The first one seems absolutely normal, nothing unusual about her, average height, blond long hair, some nice curves – and yet her face rings a bell in his head, telling him that he must have seen her before, even though he can’t quite recall where. The other one though, with her white hair, dark skin and bunny ears, is easily identifiable as a younger version of Hawks’ best friend and his sister’s future girlfriend, Miruko.

Dabi hates his luck sometimes.

It’s not like he doesn’t know Keigo has friends in upper years. The boy references them often enough, yet somehow Dabi hasn’t met them until this very moment. Which, now that he thinks about it, seems kind of weird. Has Keigo been keeping them away from him on purpose?

Not anymore, it seems, since that’s the moment Keigo catches sight of him and starts waving enthusiastically, clearly inviting him to join them. A resigned sigh escapes his mouth. There’s no escaping socializing today. Usually, he doesn’t mind other people that much – yeah, no, that’s a lie. People suck. You know what else sucks? Having to deal with the girl who tried to kill him with her murderous kicks multiple times, even before she knew about his relationship with Hawks.

Having no other choice, he walks towards them, but he purposedly makes it slow. He’s definitely not in a hurry to get another shovel talk from Miruko, especially since this time he isn’t even dating Keigo for real.

The table they occupy is, unfortunately, right in the middle of the cafeteria. He attracts some stray looks as he approaches, but not many. The excitement about Dabi’s antics has died down rather significantly over the last few weeks, depraving him of this school’s last redeeming feature. There are still occasional people who shout an insult at him or scold him about refusing to wear the embarrassing hat, but that’s basically it. No fun at all. Even Kaneko hasn’t been bothering them much. 

“I didn’t know we would have company,” he greets the group in a dry voice, raising one eyebrow as he examines the two girls. They’re both smiling, but while the other girl seems genuinely friendly, Miruko’s grin is dangerously sharp. “You must be the friends Keigo constantly talks about.”

“Oh, does he? How nice,” Miruko purrs, resting her chin on her palm, her eyes narrowing as she watches him intensely. “We’ve heard quite a lot about you too.”

Dabi snorts, sitting down next to Keigo and casually putting his arm around the other boy’s shoulders, causing him to blush. “Let me guess, it wasn’t all good things, hm?”

Miruko’s eyes flash darkly at the sight of the casual affection and her voice is a little harsher when she responds, “No, not quite.”

“Rumi!” Keigo squawks, glaring at her in betrayal.

“What? It’s true, isn’t it, Yu?” she addresses the other girl who’s only been observing them, more than a little amused, this whole time. Yu, as she’s apparently named, is busying herself with sipping on her juice. She kind of looks like she would like some popcorn as well.

“I suppose.” The girl shrugs, tilting her head a little. “But don’t let her worry you so much, it’s mostly been good things.”

“Of course they were, my dear Keigo here adores me, don’t you, darling?” Dabi asks sweetly, making sure to have the most lovesick expression on his face that he can manage. It’s not really that hard, he has to admit with some embarrassment.            

Predictably, the reaction he gets is some undignified spluttering and Keigo’s face turning even redder. His eyes are slightly widened, even as he attempts to escape Dabi’s gaze and it takes a lot of self-control on Dabi’s part not to burst out laughing. It’s not the first time he’s done something like this – used pet names, initiated physical affection – but it is the first time he’s done it so explicitly in front of someone other than Dabi’s family.

“I don’t know where you got that idea,” Keigo mumbles, trying to subtly escape from Dabi’s clutches while simultaneously attempting to regain some of his dignity. “Right now, I hate everything about you.”

“Everything?” Dabi lets a devilish smirk form on his face, then quickly leans in to place a kiss on Keigo’s cheek. “Even this?”

“Please, stop with your disgusting PDA, we’re in public,” Miruko says, pretending to gag.

Dabi laughs, even as Keigo pushes him away rather violently. Teasing the little bird is just so fun he can’t help himself, especially since older Hawks never had those adorable reactions to his antics. His Hawks wouldn’t get so flustered about a little kiss. He would probably roll his eyes in false irritation, maybe pinch him for being an idiot, but then he would stick his tongue out at Miruko for her comment and proceed to make out with Dabi even more enthusiastically, just to be a little shit. And then…

Well. It doesn’t matter what Hawks would have done. Hawks isn’t here anymore. And Dabi’s heart might squeeze painfully for a moment, grieving what he will probably never get back. No matter how amusing Keigo is, no matter how fun it is to rile him up… It’s just not the same.

But it doesn’t matter, he reminds himself forcefully, because Keigo is here and it’s enough. It has to be enough.

“Now, Keigo’s friend, don’t tell me you’re homophobic,” Dabi gasps dramatically, shoving the unwanted thoughts into a dark corner of his mind where he doesn’t have to confront them. 

“I’m gay, dumbass, I just don’t enjoy seeing you two being all lovely-dovely when I’m still painfully single,” she deadpans, rolling her eyes. Then her lips curl up into a small smirk. “And the name is Usagiyama, Rumi Usagiyama.”

“Todoroki Touya,” he replies, offering her a small nod. “But I guess you already knew that.”

Rumi snorts, muttering under her breath something that sounds suspiciously like ‘hard not to’.

“I’m Yu Takeyama,” the other girl offers cheerily, sticking out her hand so he can shake it. He does, reluctantly, just as he realizes where exactly it is that he knows her from. “Nice to officially meet you, Todoroki.”

Back in his world, Yu Takeyama has just recently started her ascend into fame as a hero. The League never really dealt with her personally but they did own a TV and if you watched any news, you would have heard of her. Mt. Lady, she called herself. Pretty fitting, considering her quirk. Dabi kind of assumed she went to U.A., since most of the top heroes did, so it’s a bit surprising to meet her here, but to think of it, nothing in this strange world really makes sense. Why would this be any different?

“It’s Touya,” he corrects her quickly, grimacing. “I don’t really like my last name.”

Her smile doesn’t waver. “Touya then.”

Pleasantries behind, Dabi decides to dug into his food. He isn’t about to go hungry for the rest of the day just because he was too busy with small talk. Fortunately for him, Keigo follows his lead and also starts picking on the food that so far he’s been ignoring. The girls don’t have anything with them though, except for Yu’s juice, so they’re left watching. If Dabi was a better person, perhaps he would have offered to share, but the two hours of sleep he lost to make this prevent him from making that mistake. He’s only met her a few times before, but he remembers well enough just how much Miruko can eat.

“So, Touya, what exactly are your intentions towards Keigo?”

The question is an expected one, yet it still catches Dabi by surprise. Rumi’s voice is deceptively sweet, poison dripped in honey, her eyes staring him down sharply. He pauses with his chopsticks on a way to his mouth, raising an eyebrow at her as if he had no idea what she’s talking about. Keigo panics.   

“What the fuck, Rumi?” he hisses, glaring at his amused friend.

“What? As your best friend, I have a right to know. We wouldn’t want an awful delinquent like him to hurt you, would we?”

Half-entertained, half-annoyed, Dabi fakes a pout. “I thought I was your best friend, birdie.”

“It’s not—”

“Anyway,” he continues, cutting Keigo off, his attention focused entirely on Rumi. “Isn’t this conversation something we should be having without him present?”

“You shouldn’t be having it at all!”

“Quiet, Keigo,” Yu interrupts suddenly. Her smile is just as friendly as before but her eyes suddenly seem darker. “Let’s hear his response.”

With all eyes trained on him, even Keigo’s, Dabi doesn’t have much of a choice. He sighs, dropping his arms in defeat.

“Obviously, I want to love and cherish him until we’re both old and ugly and then I want us to be buried together in a romantic double grave.”

His statement is met with silence. They all look rather taken aback, Dabi notices with delight. Yu’s smile turns into a cute frown, Rumi blinks at him in bewilderment and Keigo… Keigo seems to have been frozen in his place, unmoving even as his cheeks redden, either from embarrassment or building rage. Honestly, Dabi thinks to himself, they really shouldn’t have asked if they weren’t ready for the answer.

“What?” He tilts his head innocently. “Something on my face?”

***

After a lot of yelling that gets them the attention of a teacher, some apologizing and more or less pleasant small talk, the girls decide to take their leave, claiming to have something very important to do. They do offer some sort of a blessing for their romantic union, which is nice, especially since it gets Keigo flustered again. Rumi makes him promise not to be a stranger – which somehow sounds more like a threat than anything else – and then drags Yu towards the patio, waving at them until they disappear behind a door. While their company wasn’t exactly bothering him, Dabi is still glad to finally be alone with Keigo.

Or so he thinks, before he notices his friend’s suspicious stare directed at him and immediately wishes the girls would come back. Eager for any distraction available, he blurts out the first thing that comes to his mind.

“Is it weird that she’s exactly the same as I remember her?”

“Hm?” Keigo blinks at him, his mouth full of chicken. “Who?”

Dabi grimaces at the blatant lack of manners, but decides not to waste his breath. “Rumi.”

“You knew her?”

He finds himself nodding. “Unfortunately. She was my Hawks’ best friend too. The few times I met her, I honestly thought she was going to murder me. I still remember the shovel talk she gave me. I spent the next week bringing Hawks flowers every day, afraid that she’s watching and judging my merit as a boyfriend.”

Keigo frowns. “You know I’m allergic to flowers, right?”

Recalling that particular memory, Dabi shudders. “Yes. I found out.”

“She was a hero too, then? In your world?”

“Yup,” Dabi replies, popping the ‘p’. “Number Five. Quite popular with fans. Mostly girls. She enjoyed it.”

Keigo huffs a laugh, smiling fondly. “Yeah, I bet she would.”

“Fuyumi, on the other hand, did not,” he adds dryly, remembering that one time he found Miruko ranting at Hawks after some big fight the two had over it. The bunny girl made it seem like it was so serious they were on a verge of a break-up, only to be caught by some paparazzi on a disgustingly romantic date just a day later. “Apparently, she could get quite jealous. Who would have thought?”

“Fuyumi?” Keigo asks, visibly confused. “Like, your sister Fuyumi?”

“No, some other Fuyumi,” Dabi retorts, rolling his eyes. “Yes, my sister. She and Miruko were quite a happy couple, I’m told. Hawks suspected Miruko was going to propose soon.”

He wouldn’t be invited to the wedding, of course. Not officially, at least. Miruko would probably manage to sneak him in somehow though and then he could feel, if only for a moment, like he was still a part of their family. And then he would get drunk on free booze and spend the rest of the night groping his boyfriend, desperately trying not to spill why exactly Hawks’ friend’s wedding was making him so damn emotional.

“Really? I mean, good for them. Rumi deserves someone nice and Fuyumi seems great. Maybe we could—” he cuts himself off, a frown marring his pretty face. “Wait, stop. You’re trying to distract me.”

“Me? Never.”    

“Come on now,” Keigo’s tone turns stern, not unlike a parent’s scolding a disobedient child, ”what did she want to talk about?”

Dabi’s muscles twinge involuntarily just as a dark pit opens up in his stomach. It’s a good thing his food is mostly finished already, because the unexpected wave of nausea the question brings with it would have definitely killed his appetite. Avoiding meeting Keigo’s eyes, he pretends to be absorbed in picking on the small hole in his uniform jacket.  

“Who?”

Keigo continues to look unimpressed, his determination ironhard now that he’s picked up on the fact that Dabi very much does not want to talk about it. He’s clearly aware that Dabi knows who he’s talking about and his disinterested tone is just an avoidance tactic. Hawks has always been too stubborn for his own good – one of their shared features – and, well, Dabi doesn’t expect his younger version to be anything else.

“Junko-sensei.”

“Don’t know who that is.”

Is playing dumb a sound strategy to avoid having to explain what he really, really doesn’t want to explain? Nah, probably not. Is it fun to see Keigo’s feathers so sweetly ruffled? Yes. Is he going to keep it up? Also yes. As long as he can. He would rather have a full on fight with Keigo than admit to him the truth about being defeated by numbers.

Keigo grits his teeth, even as a resigned sighs escapes his mouth. His expression makes it pretty clear he has some creative insults on the tip of his tongue, begging to be released. Unfortunately for Dabi, his friend manages to keep his irritation contained, most likely knowing that if he lets this conversation turn into a bickering match, he will never get the answers he wants. Smart, for a chicken.

“Our math teacher.”  

Barely stopping himself from snorting at the forcefully calm tone of his friend, Dabi shifts his attention from the hole in his jacket to his black nails. They are more than a little roughened from his yesterday’s fights, he notices without a suprise. He doesn’t mind, not really – there’s a certain charm in the chapped colour. Something, something, beauty despite the imperfections, something, something. Dabi isn’t a fan of poetry or anything like that, but he has to admit he finds the metaphor appealing.  

“What about her?” he asks in fake confusion, tilting his head.

“What did she want to talk about.”

It’s not even phrased as a question this time, Dabi notes with some amusement. It seems Keigo’s patience is running thin. It’s a miracle he’s not already resorting to violence – Hawks certainly never had any inhibitions about it when Dabi’s teasing went on just a little bit too long. Maybe his endurance lessened with age or maybe this version of his boyfriend was simply different in that regard, who knows. Whatever it is, Dabi is still not about to make it easy for him. If his friend wants to know so badly, he will have to work for it. 

“Oh, you know…” he starts, making a vague gesture with his hand.

Keigo's voice starts getting excited. “Yes?”

“Math.”

Fed up, Keigo lets out a pained groan and slaps Dabi’s arm lightly. “That’s not what I’m asking and you know it.”

Dabi grins, resting his cheek on his palm and batting his eyelashes at the other boy innocently. “Do I?”

“Do you seriously need to be difficult about everything?”

“It’s more fun this way.” Dabi shrugs, still using one of his hands as a cushion, while the other starts to idly pick at the cold remains of his food. Even now, he doesn’t meet Keigo’s gaze.

“Or maybe,” Keigo probes, squinting at him, “you’re just avoiding the subject.”

Dabi shifts uncomfortably in his seat, an action that is not missed by his friend. Keigo’s lips quirk in a delighted little smile, showing off his impressively white teeth. Fuck, he’s about to gloat, isn’t he? It takes all of Dabi’s self-control not to burn some of those lovely feathers just to wipe that smug expression off his face.

“You really don’t want me to know what she talked to you about. I thought it would be about the test, but then you wouldn’t be so cagey. It’s something worse. Something embarrassing. Am I wrong?”

He isn’t, unfortunately. Damn chicken, too perceptive for his own good. What is Dabi supposed to do now? Should he tell him and face the unavoidable scolding? Lie and hope he won’t find out until Dabi’s already been expelled? Kill himself with a plastic spoon so he doesn’t have to be nearly twenty-five and still have to worry about fucking math?

“Alright, alright, you really want to know?” Dabi eventually asks, even to his own ears sounding a little bit like a whining child. But only a little.

“Yes, I do want to know.”

“I’m getting expelled.”

Silence. Keigo freezes in his place, face stuck somewhere between shock and disbelief. His mouth is gaping open like some braindead goldfish, letting no sound escape from it other than a single choked noise that could be a laugh or a sob. Eventually, he seems to reboot. He blinks a few times as though trying to decide whether this whole conversation is a joke or not, closes his mouth, then opens it again in another attempt to form actual words.

It would all have been pretty amusing to watch, Dabi muses sadly, if he wasn’t about to get (verbally?) murdered the moment Keigo’s brain is back on.

The dazed look doesn’t leave Keigo’s face even as he manages to croak, “Excuse me? Can you repeat that?”

“I said that I’m getting expelled.”

“Oh, my.” Keigo chuckles suddenly, his expression turning amused. Although, Dabi would have to be deaf to miss the hysterical undertone in his friend’s laugh. “My hearing must be going bad from all that high pressure in the air. Because I swear I’ve just heard you say that you’re getting expelled.”

Dabi cringes involuntarily, the acidic taste of failure back on his tongue. He doesn’t want to talk about it, but Keigo’s deadly glare is digging into him with hot intensity, clashing horribly with this too wide, too pleasant smile. With his eyes so dark, he finally resembles a true bird of prey rather than an overgrown puppy Dabi has always taken him for.

He exhales heavily. He knew his friend would make a big deal out of it.

“That’s what I said, yes.”

“Well, un-say it then, because it’s ridiculous!” Keigo’s calm facade crushes, replaced by heated indignation. His raised voice catches the attention of some other people in the cafeteria who shoot them curious looks. Especially after Keigo hits their table with his clenched fists hard enough for it to tremble. “They can’t expel you over one bad grade!”

“It’s not just that one test,” Dabi explains calmly, meeting Keigo’s fuming gaze head on. A strange warmth blooms in his guts at the realization that Keigo is not really mad at him but mostly at his behalf. “She said that to keep their place in everyone needs to pass every subject. And, apparently, I’m failing math.”

“Well, there has to be something you can do!”

Dabi shrugs, unconvinced. “I guess. I will probably still fail though.”

“Why are you so calm about this?!”

“I’m just being realistic.”

Keigo is having none of that. “No, you’re doing this whole… deflecting thing! You don’t think you can do it, so you decided to give up. Without even trying! You know I would help you if you asked. We can work on your math, I’m sure you wouldn’t be quite as bad if you actually made an effort.”

Dabi scoffs, putting as much derision into it as possible. “Yeah, no, thanks. I have better things to do than listen to you drone about algebra.”

“So what? That’s it? You’re fine with getting expelled? You don’t care at all?”

“Oh, come on, Keigo, you know I never really gave a shit about this school. I only went along with it not to raise too much suspicion and because it pissed off my dad. Nothing more and nothing less.”

“I think you’re lying.” Keigo says quietly, although it’s enough to shut Dabi up. “I think you want to stay here. I think you don’t want to leave. I think,” he leans forward, closing the distance between them to mere centimetres, “that you’re scared. That’s why you won’t even try to fight for your place here. Because you’re too afraid to lose.”

Dabi stares at his friend dumbfounded, his throat suddenly feeling dry.

“But you’re being stupid,” Keigo continues, lips pursed in disappointment that burns hotter than any fire ever could. “Because you really should know by now, based on your experience, that if you don’t try, you just lose anyway.”