Archive of Our Own ^beta

Dabi strolls into the teacher’s lounge twenty minutes later than he was supposed to, clad in sweatpants and t-shirt with a bright red hoodie hanging around his shoulders - likely Pro Hero Hawks merch, since the man is incapable of having a modicum of shame if he tried (not too dissimilar from the Numero Two Hero himself, if what Aizawa has heard of him is anything to go by). 

“Mornin’,” Dabi croaks, voice rough like he’d just rolled out of bed, totally unbothered by the fact that the class he’d be helping teach begins in less than 10 minutes. Aizawa can’t really blame him, he guesses. He doesn’t have enough energy himself to do much more than glare.

Aizawa goes over the day’s lesson plan and Dabi’s role in it as they walk to the classroom, Dabi humming and sipping his coffee. 

“I will warn you,” Aizawa starts just as they’re about to turn into the hallway of the classroom, “My patrol last night ran into the late AM. I’m going to need a nap halfway through the class and you will take over. I trust you’ve read the lesson plan I emailed you?” Aizawa will bet his entire retirement savings that the man hasn’t even opened the email. 

Dabi chokes on his coffee, coughing harshly into his shoulder. “You– what? The fuck you mean you’re gonna nap in class?” He manages to choke further on his words and coughs some more. 

Aizawa gives him a confused look and is just about to open his mouth when Shouto Todoroki stops in front of them.

“Hi Sensei,” he greets as he fishes something out of his jacket pocket and turns to Dabi, who’s still coughing. Shouto grimaces slightly, which consists of the slightest frown and narrowing of the eyes – the most emotion the kid’s shown on his face in days, probably – and hands Dabi whatever was in his pocket. “Here, I only have two.”

“Mm.” Dabi collects himself enough to accept and ruffle Shouto’s hair, the younger kid ducking out of the way immediately and heading straight to the classroom without another word. 

Aizawa raises an eyebrow. “What is that?”

Dabi holds out his palm for Aizawa to see. It’s those ring pop candies. “I’d offer you one, but they’re lozenges.”

“Are you sick?” Now that he mentions it, Dabi does look a little worse for wear - the bags under his eyes more pronounced and skin around his nose irritated - though it’s always hard to tell what’s normal and what’s not with underground heroes who tend to operate on two or four hours of sleep a night and look exhausted on the regular - much like Aizawa himself, currently.

Dabi shrugs, pocketing the candy. “Might’ve caught something when I was in Fukuoka.”

“Fukuoka,” Aizawa repeats flatly.

“Hmm.”

“And what brought you out there? A new case?”

“No case.” Dabi levels Aizawa with an amused look, the corners of his lips curling up in a lazy smirk. “Just getting laid.”

Right, Hawks. Aizawa should have known better than to ask. He shakes his head, picking up his pace. They walk into the classroom together. 

“Good morning, students,” Aizawa announces himself loudly and firmly enough to quiet down the class. “In your seats, please.” The students scramble. Once they’ve all settled in, Aizawa begins. “This is Pro Hero Dabi. Quirk: Incineration.” Dabi waves to the class. If the kids are surprised by his chosen attire, they don’t show it. “As I explained last week, Dabi will be joining in on your lessons this week and will primarily be involved in your training. Please prepare to put your best foot forward and work hard. He works closely with me in the underground scene, so that will be our lesson in today’s class. Underground Heroics.”

Aizawa spends around fifteen minutes lecturing the students over what it means to be an underground hero, why the path may be right for some people, and some key themes in safety and discretion. Dabi jumps in with input (or opinions, probably uncalled for, in most cases) every now and again, before Aizawa opens it up for the kids to ask any questions. It’s at this point that Aizawa pulls out his yellow sleeping bag and settles in a sitting position against the wall, making it glaringly obvious that the Q&A session is just for Dabi. 

—- 

Right, then. Dabi rips open one of Shouto’s ring pop lozenges and takes a long suck. He looks to the class and smirks. “Hit me.”

One hand raises up immediately, the finger-breaking green kid that fought Shouto at the school festival. “Um,” he starts, when Dabi looks at him expectantly, “Why did you want to be underground and not a limelight hero like your d– um–” He waves his arms around and Dabi takes great pleasure in watching the kid backtrack and stutter through his words. “...like others?”

“Well,” Dabi licks the candy from his lips, “This may be shocking to some of you, but hero society is flawed. Fuckin’ crazy, right? The system today makes it so that being a hero isn’t about saving people anymore, it is about the rankings and the popularity and the money. While some heroes probably do want to help and all, it’s real easy to let your motives get twisted along the line with societal pressure– maybe from your peers, maybe from older heroes, maybe even from the damn Hero Commission themselves.” Some students gasp, but Dabi is not here to sugarcoat the reality of the harsh world they live in, not with the very kids who are going to be sent out there to fend for themselves at such a young and impressionable age. “Sometimes it can also be about strong quirks, which is fuckin’ stupid because what does it fucking matter what quirk you have if you're working hard and have your priorities on straight?”

He pauses to cough into his shoulder. He’s really getting worked up over this again, huh? The class remains silent, so he continues. “I think there is a lot you can do to help when you take out the societal aspect of being a hero, with a quirk or without. There’s a lot of bad shit that happens under the limelight, beyond what’s broadcasted on the news and beyond what most of you see within the walls of your safeguarded school. Bad things happen to undeserving people in places where the law doesn’t protect them, where the law prevents them from being protected. Who’s going to help them? Who’s brave enough to get down to the bad and ugly to give them a life popular hero society deems unnecessary? People like your Sensei, maybe. That’s why I do it, to answer your question.” 

The angry kid scoffs loudly. “Tch! That sounds like fucking vigilantism.”

“Maybe.” Dabi shrugs. “But isn’t that the point? The law blindly categorizes all ‘vigilantes’ as bad, and all Pro Heroes as good, just because Pro Heroes adhere to some standards that are pretty fucked up to begin with. I just explained why I don’t think that’s right.”

He can see gears continuing to turn in many of the students’ heads, so he sighs. “Look, being an underground hero is not for everyone. There are decisions you will need to make that are fucking difficult, and you will need to have a real trust in your judgement when you when make them.” He digs through the red hoodie still hanging off his shoulders to pull out his Pro Hero License card and holds it up. “When you get this, it’s up to you to decide what you want to do with it, how you want to use your power, and who you want to save. It’s up to you to decide where you will focus your efforts and how you will go about it. This is what I chose.”

It’s quiet for a moment as the students absorb his words.

“Is that Pro Hero Hawks merch?” The Yaoyorozu girl suddenly asks, pointing at the hoodie. 

Dabi smiles, wide and menacing. Now there’s a question he’d love to answer. He catches Shouto rolling his eyes and turning his attention to the notebook on his desk. He ignores it. “Why, yes it is! This one’s unreleased though, you can get it next year.” He winks, for good measure. 

Keigo’s bird intern sighs at his desk.

A girl with a frog quirk raises her hand. “What is the most memorable underground case you’ve been a part of?”

Dabi smiles.

It goes on like this, the kids jumping over each other to get their questions in, until the bell finally rings and grants Dabi his freedom once again. The students begin chattering, some running out of the classroom for a bathroom break. Dabi moves toward the yellow sleeping bag, which has now tilted sideways in an awkward L-shape on the floor. Dabi pokes it in the center with the tip of his boot. 

His leg is immediately wrapped in a capture weapon as Aizawa cracks open an eye and glares. Dabi raises an eyebrow. 

“Good to see your reflexes are intact even when you’re unconscious. Though you only got one leg, whole lotta good that’ll do.”  

“Is it done?” 

“Yes.” 

—

“Your class is fuckin’ loud.” Dabi comments as they walk out of the room.

“Tell me about it.” They pass Present Mic, who waves excitedly. Aizawa waves back, much less excitedly, considering he didn’t exactly get to nap during the class contrary to popular belief. He couldn’t fall asleep, not completely, not after listening to Dabi’s answer to the very first question. The man is well-spoken and firm in his moral beliefs, despite presenting himself in such a crude and unprofessional manner, perhaps more than Aizawa had given him credit for. Perhaps that was the point.

“What now?” Dabi asks as they round a corner.

“Now we go to the cafeteria where I will sit and grade papers and you will eat something before we begin the afternoon training. Which is for three hours.” Aizawa stops them in front of a vending machine. “Caffeine first. Want anything?”

He gets no response and glances back just in time to watch the other man inhale sharply and a second later let out a loud sneeze, curling in on himself with the force.

Aizawa raises a brow. Dabi shakes his head, goes back to sucking on his ring pop. Aizawa shrugs and turns back to the machine, punching in the number for a redbull. He will not accept judgement for his decisions today. 

They continue their walk to the cafeteria. When they enter, Dabi’s head pans left and right, trying to take it all in. Aizawa is used to the place by now, but he knows the UA cafeteria is no small feat. Aizawa leads them to his designated ‘paper-grading’ corner booth. 

Dabi whistles softly as he looks around. “Maybe I should teach at UA.”

Aizawa can’t help but snort at the thought of Dabi as a teacher. “You,” he says flatly, sliding into the booth.

“Hey,” Dabi gasps in mock offense, which turns into a weak cough. He swallows, grimacing. “I just ran your class by myself, while you were asleep.”

“Right.” Aizawa ignores him. “So, food?”

He grunts, mumbling a “not hungry” as he slides into the booth across from Aizawa. He removes the ring pop from his finger with his teeth and holds it in his mouth, then slides the hoodie off his shoulders and begins to put it on.

Aizawa narrows his eyes at him. “Cold?”

Dabi mumbles something incoherent around the candy. Aizawa raises a brow, Dabi rolls his eyes. He finishes pulling it on, runs a hand through his hair, and pulls the hood up over his head before finally removing the ring from his mouth. “I’m taking a nap.”

Aizawa simply shrugs and turns back to his papers as Dabi puts his back to the wall, knees bent in front of him on the booth’s seat, curling in on himself as he shuts his eyes. Aizawa feels a little jealous.

—

Dabi blinks awake an indescribable amount of time later to the sound of his phone ringing. It must not have been that long, considering Aizawa’s still sitting across from him, hunched over papers. His eyes flick to his phone, which lights up again. He picks it off the table, sees Endeavor’s name on the screen, and promptly declines the call. He groans, repositioning himself to a normal sitting position and stretching until his joints crack.

“Good morning.” Aizawa glances up at him, something of a smirk playing on his lips.

“Did I miss the training?” He croaks out, then clears his throat. The left side of his nose is stuffy and blocked. God, he did not miss being sick. 

Aizawa snorts. “You wish. Starts in thirty minutes.” 

Dabi grunts, grabbing a few napkins from the box at the edge of their table. He folds them a little before holding them up close to his face, knowing exactly what’s about to come. He sneezes once, harsh enough to clear some of the congestion, before squeezing his eyes shut again and sneezing a second time.

“All right?” Aizawa gives him a look. “You know you can start coming to training tomorrow. If you’d rather rest today.”

“I just rested.” He sniffles softly, crumpling and discarding the napkins. “‘M fine. Want to kick your kids’ little asses seven ways to hell.”

Aizawa eyes him suspiciously, before sighing. “Fine. Then go eat something first.”

They end up eating together, and then Dabi changes into his hero uniform. They get to the training grounds, which is a large industrial neighborhood built just for training (Dabi will never get used to the sheer amount of space and funds required to run this damn school), just as All Might finishes explaining the class plan to the kids. 

They’re going to do two rounds of a search and rescue exercise, with some students playing villains and some as heroes. The case will follow one that is deemed appropriate for underground hero work, taking place at night (there will be no lights on the training ground) with the goal to not be spotted, therefore not to use loud and/or vibrant quirks. Round one allows quirk usage when necessary, while round two bans the use of all quirks - in line with Dabi’s earlier speech about how being a hero is possible even without a quirk. Dabi demonstrates a few quirk-free fighting exercises with Bakugou, Shouto, and Iida as his chosen student pawns. 

Then Dabi joins Aizawa on the sidelines to watch as the students begin.

It goes well. 

— 

A few hours after classes and training are done for the day, Shouto Todoroki shows up at the teacher’s lounge to apparently collect his brother for dinner. He’s in casual clothes, in black jeans, a white shirt, and a jean jacket. Dabi’s already changed back to his sweatpants and tee, donning some of his silver necklaces as well. He’s messaging on his phone next to Aizawa who’s working on a computer when Shouto walks in and stops in front of Dabi. 

“Soba?” 

“Mhmm.” Dabi continues typing on his phone. Shouto peeks over his shoulder.

“Oh, is Keigo-san visiting for Christmas?”

“Mhmm.” 

Aizawa has one ear attuned to their conversation. Dabi locks his phone before angling his face to the side and sneezing once harshly. He grunts and takes a full moment to collect himself before standing. 

“Then can we stop by that big gift store that opened down the hill?” Shouto asks his brother. “I want to get him something. Do you have a car?”

“No, I don't have a car. The fuck do I look like?”

“How did you get here?”

“The fuckin’ train? C’mon.” Dabi sniffles softly and begins toward the door. Shouto follows.

“Also you should really start taking better care of yourself, nii-san.”

“No one asked for your opinion, brat.”

Aizawa sighs, watching them go. He yawns. He decides to call it an early night, texting Hizashi that he’ll be home early. He can only hope that Dabi will get some rest tonight as well, before the real training picks up tomorrow.