Chapter Text
Tomura Shigaraki is, despite Dabi’s best efforts, someone he can’t help but be compelled by.
Within the span of a few weeks, he went from someone Dabi saw as an entitled, immature brat, to a respectable and dignified leader. Even after their tumultuous first meeting, Shigaraki went and made Dabi leader of the Vanguard Action Squad, and even after losing the man he called his sensei, someone clearly close to him, and his own home, he never complained or showed that he was upset. He didn’t turn on any of the remaining League members. He didn’t blame them for what went wrong. He simply tightened his lips and accepted his situation for what it was.
That level of strength is something that Dabi, to his detriment, is intrigued by.
He shouldn’t be. Getting close to any of the League members was never his goal. They’re a means to an end, and so he shouldn’t fixate on any one of them, especially not his boss.
Still, there’s… something magnetic about him, something that draws Dabi’s gaze whenever he’s in the room. He’s a beacon in a pit of darkness, drowning out any shadows until his light is all Dabi can see.
Dabi wants to figure him out. He wants to understand what led him to this point.
He wants to know how Tomura Shigaraki is so resilient and fearless in the face of adversity (when it seems that Dabi is just the husk that’s left of Touya, who was too weak and softhearted to live).
None of their interactions clash quite as much as their first meeting, but there’s a strong tension in the air between them no matter what. A cord on the verge of snapping. It’s only a matter of time before it breaks completely.
They can’t seem to get along. And Dabi isn’t particularly inclined towards making an effort to decrease their animosity. He’s not here to make nice with the leader, only use him to further his own goals.
“You want us to do what,” Dabi says when Shigaraki finally reveals why he was putting a new team of villains together.
“I want you to abduct Katsuki Bakugou and bring him here to me,” Shigaraki repeats.
Dabi stares at him. “Why? In what world would that be a good idea?”
“I don’t know if you saw the Sports Festival—” Of course he did, he saw how his brother just proved himself to be a mini Endeavor in the making when Dabi thought that a for a moment, he would turn out to be different, “—but they muzzled Bakugou and chained him up in front of the entire country. These heroes… if that’s how they treat their own students, what hope do us villains have? I want to show Bakugou that he doesn’t have to be abused like that, that there’s other options.”
Of course he’s a bleeding heart on the inside, Dabi inwardly scoffs. “He’s never going to join. All of them are brainwashed into worshiping heroes.” Just like I was, he thinks. And that kid in particular, he’s too stubborn and bullheaded to even consider what they’d say.
Shigaraki stands, hands flat against the table. “Are you undermining my leadership, Dabi? Do you think I’m not qualified?”
Dabi stands up as well, looking at him coolly. “I think you’re an immature brat who has no idea what he wants in life. So yeah, you’re not qualified to be a leader. Crazy blonde girl could do better than you.”
“Thanks, Dabi!” Toga says loudly.
“I’ve spent my entire life being trained for this,” Shigaraki spits. “Don’t you dare imply I’m not good enough. I could dust you right now. I don’t care who you are, Dabi, you do not get to speak to your boss like this.”
From there, it devolves into a screaming match (mostly on Shigaraki’s side, as Dabi doesn’t care enough to start shouting). By the time Shigaraki angrily rushes out, leaving Dabi behind, the room is empty, the rest of the League clearly having vacated while they got a chance.
Dabi grits his teeth, reminding himself of why he’s here, why he decided to join a group of villains. He can get through this for the sake of his revenge.
Even if the leader is a guy who acts more like a twelve year-old than anything.
“You’re not sleeping, or you just woke up?” Shigaraki asks, seeing Dabi seated at the bar late at night. He’s dressed in a soft hoodie and sweats, something at odds with his deadliness, the hardened edges he’s cultivated as a feared and powerful villain. There’s a water bottle in Shigaraki’s hand and somehow, he still has the hand on his face. Does the man sleep with it, or something?
Dabi grunts. “None of your business, boss.”
He expects Shigaraki to start pitching a fit at that, the way he usually would, but instead he sighs deeply. Dabi frowns and looks over at him. “If it’s nightmares or something…”
“Like I said, none of your business,” Dabi repeats, because he’s never going to admit that Shigaraki got it right on the first try. And then, because he genuinely is curious, “Do you sleep with that on?”
To his surprise, Shigaraki once again answers instead of blowing up at him. “Father?” He shakes his head. “I put it on when I… actually, it doesn’t involve you.” Dabi supposes he should have expected that response considering how he answered Shigaraki’s own questions.
Shigaraki shuffles a little closer, reaching for the hand as though he’s going to pull it off before lowering his arm, clearly having changed his mind. “Dabi, I’ve been thinking and I wanted to say… I think we came off to a bad start.”
“Yeah, no thanks to you,” Dabi snorts. Still, he isn’t exactly mad at him right now. This is the most civil they’ve been.
“Well, you did call me gross—”
“Because you have a preserved hand on your face, dude,” Dabi says. “It’s kind of gross.”
“...I guess so,” Shigaraki agrees, and once again, he surprises Dabi with his response. “But we’re going to be working together, aren’t we? We should try to get along more.”
Dabi gets up from the bar and walks over so he’s directly in front of Shigaraki, staring him down. Through the fingers, he can make out the blood moon gaze of Shigaraki’s eyes. “Let’s make one thing clear, boss. I’m not here for any of the touchy-feely stuff. I’m here because I have my own agenda, and you’re useful to the cause. So while we work together, I don’t care if we get along or not.” Maybe he’s testing him a little, seeing how far he can push Shigaraki before he decides Dabi is too much. If he really can stay here without trouble, or if he’ll have to leave despite the resources and opportunities the League offers.
And Shigaraki simply nods, once again turning Dabi’s world on his axis. “I’ve been thinking about that, too, actually. As long as your agenda doesn’t directly interfere with my own goals, I don’t care what you do. I don’t care if you never tell me your name. Kurogiri, ah, told me it might have been a deadname considering you’re trans, so… I get it. I have one too.”
Dabi blinks. “It’s… not a deadname.” He pauses, then adds, “At least not in the way you’re thinking.”
Shigaraki says nothing, and Dabi gets the feeling he’s staring at him blankly.
“You’ll find that funny when I finally tell you what it is,” Dabi says to him.
“...So you are planning on telling me?”
“Depends on how I feel about you at the time.” Dabi grins widely, a slash across his face. “Guess we’ll see then.”
Shigaraki huffs, his characteristic impatience finally shining through. “Right. Whatever. As long as you don’t betray me, you’re free to do what you want.”
“So we’re in agreement?”
“I guess we are, yeah,” Shigaraki says. Dabi can’t see his face behind the hand, but he thinks Shigaraki might be smiling. “Welcome to the League of Villains, Dabi.”
He turns away to fill his water bottle up after that, leaving Dabi lost in thought as he watches Shigaraki’s retreating back.
There’s more to Tomura Shigaraki than he believed. And that… that’s dangerous, for someone who prides himself on getting a good read of everyone he meets.
In the following days, Shigaraki gifts Dabi his own noumu, provides him with a new coat that’s slightly heat resistant. He appoints him leader of the Vanguard Action Squad, tells him he trusts him to do what’s necessary to get Bakugou.
It’s a full one-eighty from his earlier treatment, and Dabi can’t figure out where it’s coming from.
“Stop trying to buy my loyalty,” Dabi says, marching up to Shigaraki while he’s at the bar.
Shigaraki sets his phone down. “What? I’m not trying to—”
“The noumu. The coat. You can try to sweeten me up all you want, leader, but it’s not going to work.”
Shigaraki is silent, faced away from Dabi. “I’m not trying to buy your loyalty, Dabi. I couldn’t care less. I’m just trying to be a good leader.”
“Well,” Dabi starts, and finds he doesn’t actually have a comeback. “You still suck.”
“...Thanks,” Shigaraki says. “I can take the coat back if you don’t want it.”
“Fuck off. I’m keeping it and Neko-chan.” Dabi whirls around, his new coat billowing behind him, and stalks off. He can feel Shigaraki’s red gaze burning into his back, a crimson brand searing into his flesh.
Maybe kidnapping Bakugou isn’t such a loss, Dabi thinks, seeing the fear reflected in the students and teachers’ eyes. And when he sees how people start to lose their faith in heroes after the training camp, well, destroying hero society just tastes all the sweeter.
“You did well, Dabi,” is all Shigaraki says when he comes back with Bakugou in his grasp, hand tight around the back of his neck as a threat. “I knew you could do it.”
His heart skips a beat, chest feeling pleasantly warm, something odd considering his heat intolerance. “Whatever,” Dabi says after a pause, averting his gaze, “don’t ever make me do this again.”
Shigaraki lets out a chuckle. “I’ll take that into consideration.”
Bakugou looks between the two of them, a scowl firmly in place. “Get a fucking room,” he snaps. “Why do I have to see this shit?”
“Hey,” Dabi says, shaking Bakugou slightly. His little brother is classmates with this brat? Maybe killing Shouto will actually be a mercy to him. “Shut up, kid. I’m the one in charge here. Well, actually—boss, what do I do with him?”
“Tie him up on that chair over there.” Shigaraki tilts his head towards a wooden chair with leather straps. “I want to talk to him.”
Dabi still thinks trying to get Bakugou to join them is a lost cause, but Shigaraki can deal with the consequences himself, so he simply listens and straps Bakugou down into the chair, standing right next to him.
As expected, Bakugou doesn’t listen to a single word Shigaraki has to say. And then the heroes track them down, and Dabi gets knocked out, and things completely go to shit.
Dabi’s head hurts like hell when he regains consciousness, muffled voices coming from above him. He groans, head throbbing worse than he thought possible.
“Dabi?” That’s Shigaraki. A cold hand presses against his cheek. “Dabi, are you alright? How are you feeling?”
“Like I just got beat up by a tiny grandpa,” Dabi mutters, eyes still closed. He stays sprawled over the ground, wishing it would swallow him up from how embarrassed he is that he got knocked out so easily.
“Sounds like he’s okay,” Spinner remarks.
“Are you sure?” Shigaraki asks. It’s bizarre how much concern is in his voice for Dabi of all people.
“I think he’s just embarrassed that old guy knocked him unconscious for like, three hours because he’s a loser,” Toga says.
“Shut the hell up you nutjob,” Dabi snaps immediately, sitting up. He winces at the sudden rush of blood to his head, hissing as he presses a hand against his temple. “If it weren’t for me you all would have lost Bakugou at the training camp. Fuck you.”
All of the League members are standing in a circle around him. They’re in a dark, empty warehouse. Someone’s coat is underneath him, and Dabi wonders who would go to the effort to try and make him more comfortable.
Toga bursts into laughter, her shrill giggles making the sharp pain in his head even worse. Dabi glowers, mentally making her burst into flames. “See? I told you!”
Shigaraki is staring at Dabi. It’s impossible to tell what he’s thinking. “As long as you’re alright. I don’t… want to lose more of my people tonight.”
“What are you talking about?” Dabi asks, squinting at him.
“Surprise!” Twice exclaims, spreading his arms. “We’re homeless!”
“...Okay?”
Shigaraki sighs, shoulders slumping for a second. “Well, yeah. That. We have no resources, no money, no home. It’s just going to be us.” After a pause, he tilts his head. “You’re welcome to leave, Dabi, if you feel that you don’t want to be with us now that we’re no longer useful to you. Otherwise…” He holds out a hand. “You can stay for as long as you like.”
Dabi stares at it, his bony wrist and fingers. Little pale scars that he’s just noticing for the first time decorate the skin. His hand is large, sturdy, a weapon capable of unimaginable destruction.
Thoughts swirl within his head, of whether it’s worth using the League now that they have nothing or if he should go it alone like how he has been all these years. If there’s any way for him to keep using them if he stays, or if he should just cut his losses here. But then he glances up at Shigaraki, spotting his expectant eyes peeking at him from in between the fingers covering his face.
“It’s… not like there’s anywhere else to go,” he says eventually, looking off to the side as he takes Shigaraki’s hand, who pulls him to his feet with more strength than Dabi expected from that scrawny body. His hand is dry, cooling on Dabi’s overheated skin, like a balm on a hot summer afternoon.
Shigaraki’s grip tightens. “Thank you, Dabi.”
“I did it for myself,” Dabi mutters, but the retort is weak, eyes locked on their joined hands, one of Shigaraki’s fingers held carefully away from Dabi’s own in a silent show of care. For some reason, he feels his face warm at that thought, and he quickly pulls his hand away.
Shigaraki hums in noncommittal agreement. “You’ll still be useful to have around.”
They all fall into a restless sleep after a quick trip to the bar to grab some of their possessions, returning within minutes. They all agree to Shigaraki taking on the role of lookout once Kurogiri quietly points out that he probably wants to be alone with his thoughts after what he went through.
Dabi doesn’t normally sleep more than a couple hours at a time, so he finds himself waking up after what seems to be only half an hour later. He hears cursing coming from outside and glances over, getting up and heading in the direction of the noises.
Shigaraki is right outside the warehouse, mumbling under his breath. He’s agitated, one hand furiously scratching at his neck. Blood coats his fingers and neck, dark red rivulets all the way down past his collarbones.
“What the hell are you doing?” Dabi asks.
Shigaraki’s head snaps over to face him. Between the fingers, his eyes are bloodshot and crazed. “Go the fuck away!”
“How do you expect to lead us if you’re just going to kill yourself?” Without thinking, Dabi moves forward and grabs Shigaraki’s wrist, attempting to pull it away. He resists easily, his arm unexpectedly as strong as steel. “The fuck’s your problem? Do you want to bleed out or get infected?”
“You don’t know what you’re talking about,” Shigaraki snaps. “Why do you even care?”
“I don’t,” Dabi says, rolling his eyes. “But you’re of no use to me dead. So stop whatever you’re doing. Got that, creep?”
Shigaraki honest to god growls at him from behind the hand. “Well, maybe I should be, considering how much you seem to think I’m a terrible leader!” There’s a moment of silence where they stare at each other, punctuated by Shigaraki’s heaving breaths, and then abruptly, all the fight drains out of him and he slumps over. “I can’t do this without Sensei. He was the one guiding me. I don’t know how to be a leader on my own.”
“Well,” Dabi says. “Tough shit, I guess. We don’t ever get what we want in life. But you just gotta forget about it and keep moving forward.”
Shigaraki tilts his head. “You’re terrible at giving advice. But somehow, not?”
“I’m not giving you advice,” Dabi says, “I’m telling you I don’t care about your stupid problems. Now shut up and stop hurting yourself so I can sleep.” He turns around without waiting for a response and heads back inside the warehouse, pausing when he hears Shigaraki speak.
“Night, Dabi.”
Dabi is quiet for a moment. “Whatever.” He lies back down, and doesn’t think about how terrified Shigaraki looked when he first turned to Dabi.
Life falls into a bit of a rhythm after that. They squat out in whatever abandoned buildings they can find, struggle for scraps of food and money.
It’s not quite the life Dabi expected when he joined the League of Villains, but he reminds himself that it will be worth it soon.
And Shigaraki, he’s not what Dabi expected, either. He takes to leading well (although Dabi will never tell him that, even if threatened with death).
They look at each other, and something passes between them, sometimes.
Dabi leaves to look for possible recruits, and comes back to chaos.
“What happened?” he asks, for once dumbfounded at whatever’s going on.
“Dabi!” Shigaraki exclaims. “Come over here. You can cauterize Compress’ arm, can’t you?”
Mister is on the ground surrounded by the League members, Spinner pressing his hands against what remains of his shoulder in an attempt to stem the bleeding. Seeing him so severely injured is a shock, but now is not the time to question it. “It’s gonna hurt,” he warns instead, oddly charitable. Still, he kneels down next to Mister and hovers his palm over the open wound once Spinner removes his bloody hands.
“Do it, Dabi,” Mister says, voice thick, “I’m not concerned about more pain.”
Dabi lets his palm blaze up, and within a matter of seconds the injury has been sealed up. Mister, to his credit, barely makes a sound beyond an initial grunt. “Thank you, Dabi,” he says quietly.
“Spinner, go clean up and get medical supplies for Compress,” Shigaraki orders. Spinner nods and runs off. “Compress, you… take a rest, okay? Dabi will—Dabi, do you know anything about first aid? Can you handle him?”
Dabi shrugs. “Yeah, I’ve got him.” Turning back to Mister, he says, “Mister, you need to elevate the wound while we wait for Spinner.” He helps him onto his uninjured side, making sure the raw, red wound isn’t too exposed to the air.
After he’s certain Mister isn’t in danger of dying from shock or blood loss, he sits back on his heels. “What happened?” he repeats, looking around. Toga is crying and Twice is beside her, seeming just as upset. Then he notices the pool of blood and the remains of a body beside it. Magne. “She’s…”
A hand comes to land on his shoulder, one finger up. It’s not a threat, though, that much Dabi is certain of. It’s the only reason he doesn’t flinch away from the casual touch. “You were out looking for recruits, weren’t you?” Shigaraki asks softly. He pauses, leaning down to look straight at Dabi’s face. If it weren’t for the hand in the way, their breaths might have been mingling. “Your eyes are bleeding.”
Dabi sniffs, wiping at the blood. “Ignore that. Staples make me bleed sometimes. Yeah, I was recruiting, but I…” For once, he’s at a loss for words. He doesn’t care about the League. He doesn’t care what happens to them. But this… this is going to weaken them more than they already are. Losing Magne, and Mister getting seriously injured, that’s a problem for sure.
Shigaraki’s grip gets firmer in a way that Dabi thinks is supposed to be grounding. “It’s not your fault. You couldn’t have known this would happen.”
“But what did happen?” Dabi asks.
“It’s my fault!” Twice bursts out, burying his face in his hands. “I… I led those damn yakuza here, and—”
“It’s no one’s fault but the Shie Hassaikai’s,” Shigaraki declares loudly, turning away from Dabi. His coat swishes behind him. “I don’t want anyone here to blame themselves. Got that? We’ll just go after the yakuza for what they did to Magne and Compress.”
Dabi can’t tear his eyes away from Shigaraki as he speaks, voice strong and unwavering. It’s strange how much faith he has in this little group. Doesn’t get mad at them for anything despite all the failures they’ve been facing. Doesn’t take it out on them. Doesn’t even show a sign of weakness.
Shigaraki… really is something, huh?
Shigaraki comes in after an apparent meeting with the head of Shie Hassaikai, the same one who murdered Magne and injured Mister. “We’re going to be collaborating with the Shie Hassaikai,” he announces.
Dabi, sitting in the back, lifts his head slightly to focus on Shigaraki. That’s something he didn’t expect from him.
Twice, unsurprisingly, is upset at the news. Toga and Twice both demand to know what he’s doing, and Dabi can’t help but listen intently. Even his breath catches when Shigaraki moves to take off the hand that’s covered his face all this time, revealing the scarred skin underneath. Dabi studies the dips and curves of his face, the lines surrounding his blood red eyes, even the dark mole underneath his mouth.
“You’re doing it for me, you, and all of us,” Shigaraki says softly, the slightest hint of a smile on his face. Everyone is entranced as he continues speaking, assuring them of his faith and trust in the League.
And Dabi… Dabi hates that he’s so fixated with this enigmatic man. He’s just his boss, nothing else. So then why can’t he stop staring at him?
Shigaraki takes a seat by Dabi when Toga and Twice leave for the Shie Hassaikai’s hideout. He still has his hand off, and Dabi has to admit… there is something enthralling about his appearance, the delicate bridge of his nose, the softness of his jaw, the long white hair framing his cheeks.
His heart skips a beat when Shigaraki’s red gaze lands on him, eyes alight with… something. “You know, that includes you, too. Despite what you say. You’re a part of us now.”
Dabi scoffs, fingers messing with a frayed thread on his pants. “I’m only hanging around because you’re still useful to me.”
The corner of Shigaraki’s lips draws up. “I have no doubt, Dabi.”
Dabi gets the feeling that he does, in fact, have doubts. He frowns. “I don’t care about you guys. At all. You could… die in a fire, and I’d just leave you there.” Bit close to home there, he thinks. But he’s not going to take his words back, not when he means them.
Shigaraki looks at him. Really looks at him. His gaze bores into Dabi, past his skin and scars and muscle and sinew and bones, reaching deep into his core. “Dabi, tell me. What motivates you?”
“You know this,” Dabi says flatly, eyes focused on his lap. “This corrupt society needs to be purged. I’m going to follow Stain’s footsteps and finish what he started.”
Shigaraki hums in agreement. “And what makes you think that we don’t have that exact same goal?”
There’s a pause, and then Dabi turns to stare at Shigaraki. “I… never thought that.” Truth be told, he never really paid attention to what exactly Shigaraki even wanted. He always got the feeling Shigaraki himself was unsure of what his plans were, not like Dabi, who’s known for ten years exactly what he’d do to Endeavor.
“Right, so why can’t we work together on this?”
Dabi shakes his head. His fight with Endeavor is his alone. “I’m doing this alone, whether you like it or not. Don’t get in my way, boss.”
Shigaraki gets up, shrugging. “Alright, not gonna pressure you. Just figured I’d bring it up.”
“Because this… is our time!” Shigaraki loudly announces to the backdrop of screaming and explosions.
Dabi watches him confidently strut forward, more energized than he has been in months. As they approach the van where Spinner’s waiting, Shigaraki starts laughing. “Dabi!” he shouts, whirling around, his coat swishing. He pulls off Father, revealing a grinning face, the light of the fire reflecting in his crimson eyes. “Wasn’t that something?”
Dabi tilts his head, unsure of why Shigaraki is directly addressing him and not anyone else. “Sure, bo—mmph!” Without warning, Shigaraki grabs the back of his head and smashes their lips together. He’s still smiling into the kiss, all giddiness and excitement. Dabi’s face feels hot, and he can’t even say it’s because of the raging fires behind them. Shigaraki’s lips are dry, scarred, and he can really only feel the kiss on his upper lip, but sparks of electricity still zap down his spine, especially when Shigaraki’s tongue starts tracing the inside of his mouth.
Dabi isn’t sure what drives him to reciprocate the kiss, tongue and lips rhythmically moving against Shigaraki’s own, but when they pull apart, a string of saliva still connecting their mouths, all Dabi can think about is how much he wants to do that again. “What… was that for?” he breathes, only centimeters apart from Shigaraki.
Shigaraki’s mouth quirks up, reddened from the kiss. Dabi has never wanted to kiss someone stupid more than he does in that moment, has never felt the desire to jump someone right then and there, damn the consequences, until just now. “It just felt like the right thing to do.”
The van honks, breaking them out of their reverie, and Dabi realizes Spinner and Mister have been waiting this entire time. Not only that, but they probably just witnessed him and Shigaraki swapping spit for absolutely no reason. “I…” At least Toga and Twice aren’t here. They never would have shut up.
“Come on!” Shigaraki hops into the back, holding out a hand for him. Dabi rolls his eyes and takes it. And doesn’t let go, even once he’s situated in the van.
“We are not going to talk about this,” he hisses to Mister.
“Talk about what?” Mister says, pointedly looking away. “I saw nothing.”
Dabi thinks, maybe he can appreciate the League members. Just a little. Especially when he glances down at his hand tightly linked with Shigaraki’s, warmth blooming exactly where his heart lies.
They haven’t talked about the kiss since it happened, and Dabi isn’t certain he wants to discuss whatever… that was. He’s never quite lost control of himself like that, always reminding himself of the plan, that he can’t get distracted by such needless things in the past.
But now, all he can think about is how badly he wants to kiss Shigaraki, and keep kissing Shigaraki, and maybe do even more. It’s infuriating. He’s not some high school girl with a crush. He’s a hardened villain, a murderer.
And yet, Dabi finds himself fantasizing about what it would be like to touch Shigaraki bare, to bite those scarred lips and neck and hear him gasp, to be held down by those hands as he—
“Shut up, idiot,” Dabi says to himself.
“Hm? No one was talking?” Spinner says, sounding confused.
Dabi blinks, remembering they’re about to have a team meeting and that he can’t be having dirty thoughts about his boss unless he wants to embarrass himself in front of everyone. He already gets bullied enough, they don’t need new ammunition. “Did I ask for your opinion,” he says flatly.
“It… wasn’t an opinion…?”
“Ignore him, Shuuichi,” Toga says consolingly, patting him on the shoulder. “You know how weird Dabi is.”
“Bold words coming from you, crazy,” Dabi says.
“Has anyone else noticed how weird Dabi’s been acting ever since he made out with Tomura?” Toga asks loudly. “I think Dabi has been acting really strangely lately. I’m sure it has nothing to do with his big, fat crush on the boss.”
Heat rushes straight to Dabi’s face, steam spilling out from between the seams. “What the—how do you know about—Mister!” he cries out, head snapping toward him.
Mister instantly points at Spinner. “I didn’t say anything, it was all him.”
“What the hell!” Spinner shouts, throwing his hands up. “How was I supposed to know it was a secret when you had your tongue down his throat for all of Japan to witness? You two are freaks, by the way.”
Twice whoops, laughing. “Get it, Dabi!”
“You—” Dabi shoots up, about to tackle Spinner to the ground, but Twice quickly grabs him by the waist. “Let me go, Twice,” he growls as Spinner leaps off the crates he was sitting on top of and runs to the opposite side of the room.
“Nah, don’t really want Spinner to die. You got it, Dabi!”
“Fuck you!” Dabi lunges forward, but Twice simply holds onto him even tighter. Dabi is really, really regretting the fact that he never exercises right now.
This is the exact scene Shigaraki walks in on, and he pauses, seeing the chaos. “Am I… interrupting something?”
“Yes!” Dabi shouts, struggling in Twice’s grasp.
“Wow, Dabi, I’ve never seen you this emotional. Didn’t think you had it in you,” Toga muses.
Dabi points at her angrily. “You’re next!”
“Don’t worry, Tomura,” Toga says brightly, “your boyfriend’s just upset that we know how madly in love with you he is.”
“I am not madly in love with him! I don’t care about any of you assholes!”
“Um,” Shigaraki says. And then, “Dabi. You know you have a fire quirk, right? Why are you trying to physically fight Spinner?”
“That’s what you’re going to focus on? Dude, not cool,” Spinner says, back against the cement wall.
Dabi grunts as Twice’s arms get even tighter around him. “Does it matter? I want him to die!”
“Alright, let’s go, Dabi. It’s time to calm down.” Dabi lets out a sound he will never admit is a squeak as Twice twists him around and onto his shoulder. “Man, you’re so much feistier than I thought!”
Dabi gives everyone a death glare as he gets carried out of the room by Twice like a misbehaving child. Toga is trying hard to muffle her giggles, and Spinner is hiding behind Shigaraki, who looks like he’d rather be anywhere but here. Mister… apparently just left while they were all distracted.
He is going to kill them all, he swears. Especially Toga.
Twice takes Dabi out to set some abandoned buildings on fire, and the release is admittedly therapeutic. It’s also strange how Twice knew exactly what to do to calm Dabi down from his rage, but he doesn’t dwell on it when there are more pressing concerns.
It doesn’t take long for Dabi to start feeling embarrassed over his outburst. He’s not supposed to be emotional like he was as a child. Endeavor burned all that out of him until all that was left was the specter, the ghost of Touya Todoroki. What’s wrong with him?
“So, uh, you and Shigaraki, huh?” Twice says, leaning against a pole as Dabi blasts another empty warehouse. “Kinda saw it coming, to be honest.”
“We’re not together, Twice,” Dabi says, back to his usual monotone. He shoots another ball of fire, ignoring the way his skin is sizzling. “Never were, and never will be. I have other things to focus on. Not romance.”
“Then why were you so mad at Spinner?”
Dabi turns to him, eye twitching. “Why do you want to know about this?”
“What? Can’t a guy try to talk to his upset friend? I just wanted to gossip with Toga later.”
“Friend…? Hmph.” Dabi goes back to setting the warehouse on fire, watching as bricks and beams collapse under the blazing flames. “It was a temporary lapse in judgment. I don’t want people to think I’m going soft, ‘specially not for my boss.”
“What’s wrong with going soft?” Twice says. “Just because we’re villains doesn’t mean we don’t deserve some softness in our lives. You’ve got the right idea, Dabi! ”
Dabi scoffs. “You wouldn’t get it.” Touya was soft, and look where it led him. Dabi can’t make the same mistakes he made as a vulnerable kid.
“Maybe not everything, but I still sure would try,” Twice says quietly. “Because you’re my friend, Dabi. You deserve the same as everyone else here.”
Dabi doesn’t say anything to that. Doesn’t even think about the words, because he’s not sure what he’ll do if he starts believing them for even a moment. “Let’s go back, Twice. There’s nothing left.” Only ashes remain, dust that will eventually be blown and washed away.
“Ready to talk about whatever that was?” Shigaraki asks when Dabi and Twice return several hours later, arms crossed.
Dabi stares at him. “No.”
“Cool, I didn’t want to either. Now can we have that damn meeting? The others ran off somewhere, but I’ll go get them if you wait for me.”
Dabi shares a glance with Twice, who nods at him. “Whatever, man. As long as you don’t bring that up.”
“What? That you’re madly in love with me? I know it was just Toga being Toga.” Shigaraki rolls his eyes as he walks with them to the meeting room, one corner of his mouth lifting up. “Like anyone would be in love with me.” His tone and face are neutral, and Dabi can’t even tell if he’s sad about what he’s saying. Maybe he just believes it’s a fact of the universe, like the sky is blue and the earth revolves around the sun. And something inside of Dabi cracks, just slightly.
“I would fall in love with you, Shigaraki,” Twice announces loudly. “You’re right, no one would ever love you. Oh my god, I didn’t mean that.” He hugs Shigaraki tightly, and Shigaraki doesn’t even flinch, although he doesn’t exactly return the hug. “I love you, man.”
Shigaraki lets out a huff of laughter, shaking his head. “Thanks, Twice.”
As they walk back into the room, Twice wraps an arm around Dabi’s shoulders. “I’m telling you, Dabi, there’s nothing dangerous about love.” Dabi shrugs him off without a word, but he still finds himself following Twice’s gaze. He’s staring right at Shigaraki’s back as he leaves to get the others.
And Dabi… Dabi considers what it would feel like to kiss Tomura Shigaraki again.
He climbs up to the roof of the warehouse that night.
Here, away from the city, he can see the clarity of the night sky, all the little stars floating overhead twinkling down on him. Usually, he tries not to watch the stars when all it reminds him of is when he would go to the beach with Natsuo and lie under the pale moonlight telling him about all the constellations they could see, with the sound of waves gently crashing against the shore in the background. And then he always starts thinking about whether or not his family even misses him and he’d rather not think about that (and honestly, he’s not sure which answer he even prefers).
Dabi always tells himself it doesn’t matter. Nothing matters except destroying Endeavor and himself in the process, a supernova in the making. Ending their lives together seems a fitting way to finish what Endeavor started with his birth.
He lies there on the hard cement of the roof, staring up at the sky and wondering what he’s doing with his life.
It’s the first time he’s ever thought that, too focused on making Endeavor’s life as miserable as he made Touya’s.
“Damn it,” he hisses softly, pressing his hands against his eyes. The crack splits apart even more, a dark chasm forming between the spreading fissures. He can’t be having doubts, not when he’s so close to finally putting his plans in motion. And it’s all because of damn Shigara—
“Didn’t take you for a stargazer,” comes Shigaraki’s voice, and Dabi turns his head just in time to see Shigaraki climb up onto the roof.
“Not stargazing,” Dabi mutters, wondering if his thoughts summoned him. “What are you doing here? Leave me alone.”
“Well, I’m the team leader, and as the leader I should be checking up on everyone, should I not?” Shigaraki asks. “You’re lying on the roof staring up at the sky. That’s not normal for you.”
Dabi looks back at the sky. “Fuck off.”
“And you’re brooding more than usual,” Shigaraki says. Dabi hears him take a seat by his side, and he sighs.
“I liked it better when you were just a grumpy dick,” he says.
“What? Like you?” Dabi can just about hear the smile in Shigaraki’s voice. “Hey, my favorite star is Saturn. What’s yours?”
Dabi pushes himself up and glares at him. “You’re such an idiot, what the hell. How do you not even know the difference between a planet and a star?”
“What’s a planet?” Shigaraki says with that stupid smirk of his, and Dabi thinks he might actually punch him. “Joking, I know what Saturn is. But look.” He points up at the sky. “That super bright star, what’s that?”
Dabi doesn’t even have to look at it to know what Shigaraki’s talking about. “Polaris. The north star.”
“So you do know,” Shigaraki says. “Tell me more. About stars and stuff.”
“No. Go away.”
Shigaraki sighs. He bites his lip, chewing the scarred skin, before he says, “Is this about the kiss, or whatever?”
Dabi glances away, staring at nothing in particular. “...No.”
“I don’t regret it,” Shigaraki says instantly, as if he’s trying to make Dabi feel better. For what, he’s not sure. “I did it because I wanted to, and I can do what I want. But do you regret it…?” When Dabi doesn’t answer, he continues, in a gentler voice than Dabi has ever heard him, “Did it make you uncomfortable in any way? Did I force you into it?”
“No,” Dabi grits out, “you didn’t force me. I would have set you on fire if you did. You’re not that special.”
“Then what is it?” Shigaraki presses, leaning closer. There’s a pause, then he says, “Do you… want to do it again? I wouldn’t be opposed.”
And before Dabi can even think about what he’s doing, he grabs Shigaraki’s face and presses their lips together. This kiss is shorter, less frenzied and passionate than their first one, but no less sweet because of it. “Yeah,” he admits quietly, when they pull apart. “I wanted to do it again.”
There’s a slight flush on Shigaraki’s face, a pale tint of red that contrasts with his stark white hair. “Oh,” he says. “That was. Nice.”
Dabi’s first instinct is to disagree just on principle, because it’s Shigaraki and he loves riling him up, but for some reason he can’t bring himself to. “Yeah,” he says instead.
Shigaraki is silent, red eyes piercing in their intensity. Eventually, his mouth quirks up, and he says, “You really… are something else, Dabi.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” Normally Dabi would have assumed a negative connotation, but he’s not entirely sure that’s what Shigaraki intends right now.
“You’re just not what I expected. Not in a bad way, though.” Shigaraki stands up and looks down at Dabi, the slightest hint of a smirk on his face. “You done brooding now? It’s cold out here. Let’s go inside.”
Dabi takes one last glance at the dark backdrop of the sky. At the brilliantly shining star Shigaraki had pointed out. At the moon and its gentle light filtering onto them. “Alright, boss.” And he follows Shigaraki down, back into their home.
Dabi’s gotten accustomed to seeing Shigaraki without Father obscuring his face now, but somehow he still finds himself holding his breath every time he catches sight of him.
Maybe Shigaraki isn’t traditionally attractive to some people, but there’s a mysterious, delicate sort of beauty to him that Dabi thinks is far more appealing than whatever celebrities they’ve plastered on the front page of magazines. And, well, who is Dabi to judge when it comes to appearances, when eighty percent of his body is covered in thick, dark burns?
Shigaraki’s fascinating to look at and study, with a face that draws attention to him no matter where he is. Dabi often catches himself roving his eyes over Shigaraki, gazing at his full, scarred lips, his delicate hair, his long, pale eyelashes, and then it’s a mental battle with himself to try and force himself to look away before anyone else notices.
It’s a habit he should quit, maybe, but Dabi can’t bring himself to care much. Not when he sees the pinnacle of beauty before him everyday.
It’s only when he ends up walking into a wall when he spots Shigaraki with his hair tied up for the first time that he thinks, maybe I have a problem.
Toga and Twice instantly burst into laughter, while Spinner moves forward to help him up. Dabi is admittedly a bit surprised he would do that, until Spinner whispers to him, “Dude, I’m getting secondhand embarrassment from watching you.” Dabi immediately lets go of Spinner’s hand, deciding he would rather fall back down than let a traitor like Spinner help him up.
Spinner stares at his outstretched hand, then down at Dabi. “There is something deeply wrong with you.”
“Are you… alright, Dabi?” Shigaraki asks, sounding more amused than concerned. Dabi looks at him from his place on the ground and instantly regrets it. Shigaraki with his hair pulled back and tied up in a ponytail is a sight he thinks he’ll never be able to get over. Little wisps of white hair escape the hair tie, falling around his face in curls, and Dabi aches. For what, he’s not sure.
“I fell on purpose,” he says, feeling his face flush—something that’s become more common as of late. “Because the floor is really comfortable.”
“Yeah, and I’m sure you made out with the wall on purpose too,” Toga says, still giggling.
“He was probably imagining it was Shigaraki,” Twice adds.
“I hope every single one of you drops dead,” Dabi says viciously. “Except Mister. For now.”
“I’m not a part of this,” Mister says.
Shigaraki looks around at them, rubbing at some scars on his neck. “I can’t believe you’re actually making me say this, but leave Dabi alone. He doesn’t have a crush on me. He’s just…” He trails off, glancing over at Dabi. “Are you just going to stay there?”
“Yes,” Dabi says. “The floor is my home now.”
Shigaraki facepalms. Hard. “I can’t kill my only allies,” he mutters to himself. “I can’t.”
Toga steps forward, arms outstretched. “Wait, Tomura! We’ll stop.” She turns and grabs Spinner and Twice’s hands, pulling them aside. “By the way, you look so cute! You should wear your hair like that more often.”
The three of them start whispering frantically, and Dabi has a sinking feeling he knows what they’re discussing. This wasn’t what he signed up for when he joined the League.
Shigaraki sighs, pressing a palm against his forehead again, and moves to help Dabi up. “Those three are up to something.”
“When aren’t they? Hey, why are you so certain that I don’t have a crush on you?” Dabi asks as Shigaraki pulls him up. “Not that I do,” he adds quickly. “It’s a. Hypothetical situation.”
“Well, why would anyone?” Shigaraki doesn’t look the slightest bit upset as he says, “I know the kind of person I am. Sensei’s told me all my life that I was created for destruction and hatred, not love. No one will ever fall in love with me.”
“You…” The cracks inside Dabi get larger. He thinks he’s barely held together now, staples straining to keep his pieces together. “You really believe that.”
Shigaraki nods. “I’ve known it all my life. Sensei made sure.”
Well, Sensei can go fuck himself, Dabi thinks. He tightens his hold on Shigaraki. For what reason, he’s not sure. But he still finds himself gripping onto him like he’s a lifeline. “Boss, you’re kinda fucked up. You know that, right?”
Shigaraki smiles, and it’s small, tinged with a sadness that Dabi isn’t even sure Shigaraki is aware of. “Yeah.”
Dabi lies on his bed late at night, and all he can think is, Maybe we have that in common. Being unlovable.
Toga’s playing with his hair instead of doing literally anything else. Dabi hates it here. “I think it’s so cute you’ve got a crush,” she coos, brushing her fingers through his choppy black hair. “Who would have thought that Dabi, big bad murderer, would fall so hard in love?”
Dabi pushes her arm away, glaring at her. “I’m not in love.”
Toga grins, her fangs glinting in the weak sunlight as she leans close to Dabi’s face. “I can smell your love, Dabi. You’re so adorable, the way you follow Tomura everywhere. I’ve seen how you look at him,” she says in a sing-song voice.
“I don’t even know what love is,” Dabi tells her, instead of responding to all of that. He looks at Shigaraki and follows him around because he’s his boss. There’s no other reason. Toga’s wrong.
“You’re stupid, too,” Toga says. “It’s okay, though. Every group needs a token idiot.”
“Die.”
Toga ruffles his hair, still smiling. “I’m so happy for you, Dabi! I hope you two get together.” She sighs dreamily. “I wish I could see Ochako and Izuku everyday. You’re so lucky for that.”
“Why are you in love with UA kids,” Dabi says, making a face. “You literally have the worst taste.”
“Not true!” Toga snaps, hands on her hips as she pouts at him. “They’re both amazing people, and everyone loves them. Why wouldn’t I?”
Dabi frowns. “So you love them because other people love them? That’s dumb. Maybe you should love yourself instead of obsessing over hero students.”
“Well, my heart is telling me that they’re who I love,” Toga says, eyes glazing as she loses herself in thought. After a few moments, she refocuses on Dabi. “You’ll get it one day, when you finally grow a brain and realize how much you love Tomura.”
“And I’m telling you I don’t,” Dabi says, but the retort sounds weak even to him. He’s getting tired of insisting that there’s nothing between him and the boss to everyone in the League. Just because they kissed twice, and Dabi wants to do it again, and he thinks a lot about the sensation of Shigaraki’s lips against his own—none of that means anything. It’s the weak part of him that he violently suppresses. Dabi is incapable of feeling. Of loving. He lost his heart years ago, as a small and teary-eyed child who wanted nothing more than to feel wanted and accepted.
He knows now that it’s impossible for anyone to love him. It was beaten into his head over years and years. He’s defective, broken, a toy to be tossed aside once people get tired of him.
Toga tilts her head and starts brushing his hair with her hand again. “Dabiiii, stop getting all sad! I can tell you are. What’s bothering you?”
Dabi leans forward, resting his elbows on his knees. He doesn’t look up at her and whatever expression she must be making right now. “You… why do you care?”
“Why shouldn’t I?” Her fingers are gentle as they work through knots and tangles. “You know, my family always hated me because I wasn’t normal for them. But you guys let me be who I want! I live life for myself, the way I want to.” Softer, she adds, “You should, too.”
“I am,” Dabi insists. “You don’t get it now, but. I am doing what I want.” And what he wants, above all else, is to destroy himself alongside Endeavor.
Isn’t it?
Toga has no idea what she’s talking about. Dabi doesn’t have a crush on Shigaraki, and he doesn’t follow him everywhere. At least, not because he’s in love (a small part of him insists there’s a reason he keeps kissing Shigaraki, and he violently crushes the voice).
“...And I think this will really just be a two-person job, so who wants to team up with me? Toga?” Shigaraki finishes, and Dabi realizes he completely blanked out while gazing at Shigaraki’s hair, too focused on how ethereal and angelic it makes him look, a veneer of innocence masking death and destruction.
“I’ll do it,” he says immediately, not entirely sure what he’s signing up for. But he wants to keep looking at Shigaraki’s hair. It looks soft and fluffy, like a cloud, and Dabi aches to run his hands through it (where are these thoughts coming from? He’s completely lost it, hasn’t he).
Next to him, Toga giggles and mutters something under her breath, but Dabi doesn’t even care, not when Shigaraki smiles so brightly at him. He shines brilliantly, everything else in the room paling in comparison. “Alright, that works too. Dabi, you ready to head out?”
“Totally,” Dabi says, having no idea what they’re about to do. He still stands up and moves to stand beside Shigaraki, unable to keep himself from smiling back at him.
“We’ll keep in touch,” Shigaraki tells the others as he turns, but Dabi is barely listening, still stuck on the image of Shigaraki smiling because of him. When was the last time someone was so happy to see him? “Come on, Dabi. We need to get ready.” He looks over his shoulder at Dabi, tilting his head towards the entrance.
And Dabi follows him without question, certain he’ll tail Shigaraki to the ends of the earth if need be.
(Everyday, it gets harder and harder to deny what’s right in front of him. Dabi will keep trying, though. Nothing matters more than destroying this worthless society and purging it of false heroes. Nothing.)
“So here’s the plan,” Shigaraki starts as they leave the hideout. “We’re going to watch their hideout and figure out an opening to sneak in. We disguise ourselves and look around to find out what they’re doing.”
“Right.” That explains why Shigaraki made him wear plainer clothes. “Ah, what are we doing?”
Shigaraki glances at him from the corner of his eye. “Weren’t you listening?”
Dabi searches for a quick excuse. “You can’t really expect me to listen. I have my own things going on, boss.”
He swears he hears Shigaraki mumble, “Deflecting idiot,” under his breath, but it’s so quiet he can’t tell if he imagined it or not. “Alright, well, I’ve heard reports of a gang that supposedly found a way to reproduce those quirk destroying drugs we got from the Shie Hassaikai. I don’t want anyone but us to get their hands on them, so I decided we should go look around and find out what they’re up to. And if they are a threat… We’ll destroy them.”
“I see,” Dabi says, thinking maybe he shouldn’t have taken Toga’s spot. “Didn’t think espionage was really your style, boss.”
Shigaraki snorts. “You’d be surprised at how much I’ve sneaked around in the past. This is nothing new to me.”
“Huh,” Dabi says, surprised. Everyday he realizes just how little he knows about Shigaraki. He glances down, at their hands side by side, and hesitantly slips his palm around Shigaraki’s.
He doesn’t say anything, but he tightly grips Dabi’s hand back. Steam escapes from Dabi’s seams, face flushing red hot, and not for the first time he curses his stupid quirk. When he steals a quick peek over at Shigaraki, his cheeks are pink. At least Dabi isn’t the only one affected.
Spending time one on one with Shigaraki, it’s almost overwhelming. Somehow, it’s both everything he’s ever wanted and something he doesn’t think he can handle without spontaneously combusting (and why is that, idiot?)
It’s quiet for the rest of their walk, hands tightly linked together and Dabi’s heart beating a mile a minute every time he looks down at them.
Dabi has no idea what he’s doing anymore.
Shigaraki breaks the silence after a few minutes of slinking through back alleys. “We’re getting closer, I think.”
“So what are we doing?” Dabi asks.
Shigaraki looks around at the empty, abandoned buildings. “I want to find a vantage point where we can watch their hideout. Come on, let’s go inside one of those buildings.”
He leads the way, pulling Dabi along by the hand until they step inside one of the old apartments. They’re a shell of their former selves, broken and rundown, and Dabi wonders what drove everyone to leave the area.
“Here’re the stairs,” Shigaraki says, pushing a door open. “You think you can climb to the top floor?”
Dabi takes one look up at the spiraling stairs, already dreading the climb up. It’s probably not even worth lying to Shigaraki, since it’ll be obvious soon enough no matter how much Dabi pushes himself. They both know that Dabi’s too weak to handle such tasks, otherwise Shigaraki wouldn’t have asked. “No,” he deadpans.
Shigaraki simply nods, his face lacking any sort of judgment. “Do what you can, then we can take a break. We have time, I’m sure.” His grip on Dabi’s hand is firm, grounding, and he gives a little squeeze that Dabi thinks is supposed to be reassuring.
“Okay,” Dabi agrees, and takes a step forward. And another, and another, Shigaraki at his side.
It does take time for them to make it up, and a few times Dabi has to sit down and just breathe, sweat beading on the healthy parts of his skin, dull aches radiating throughout his body. But Shigaraki doesn’t complain even once about Dabi’s weakness.
It’s not even the first time he’s done that, Dabi realizes. He’s always accepted the League’s limitations without question—Twice can’t make clones of himself, Dabi isn’t physically strong, Spinner’s quirk doesn’t help with combat. He just nods and moves on, figures something else out.
He’s been taking care of the League, hasn’t he? In his own way. Dabi gazes up at Shigaraki, who’s standing next to him, waiting for him to catch his breath and stop shaking. He’s… really grown. Become someone that they can all depend on (and Dabi, here in this quiet, dark space with only the person he’s fixated on for the last few months as company, can admit to himself that he depends on Shigaraki, too).
“You… why don’t you ever get mad about our weaknesses?” Dabi asks when they reach the top, sitting near a window with moonlight filtering in on the two of them.
Shigaraki blinks at him. His blood red eyes are luminous in the pale light, so much brighter than everything else. “What weaknesses?”
Dabi searches for the words to explain. “I can’t even go up eight flights of stairs without needing breaks. And it didn’t bother you at all. But that’s just me being weak and useless.” He says the last sentence bitterly, spitting it out like venom that burns his tongue. He’s all too aware of the mistake of his existence. He’s just the defective masterpiece, the failure that Endeavor regretted creating.
Shigaraki looks utterly confused at his words. “You have a disability; there’s nothing wrong with that. It doesn’t mean you’re weak and useless,” he says slowly. “You can just do things that other people can’t. Like, you’re our ranged fighter. Toga isn’t. I’m not. No one is, except for you. That’s what you’re good at.”
Dabi stares at him, desperately looking for a single hint that Shigaraki is lying, just trying to make him feel better. He’s not sure he can handle it if Shigaraki’s telling him the truth. Because that would mean—it would mean— “That doesn’t make sense!” His voice is frantic, pained.
“Think about it this way,” Shigaraki says calmly, at odds with the way Dabi is breaking to pieces before him. “Imagine a video game that has a bunch of characters you can play. Each of them has their own strengths and weaknesses. Not a single character is broken, and the game is balanced. You team up with other people who chose different characters, and they all compliment each other because they have their own roles in the team. That’s how I’ve always imagined a team to work like.”
A choked off, broken sound rips its way out of Dabi’s throat. Shigaraki’s eyes go wide, his mouth forming an ‘O.’
Dabi’s face is hot and he can feel staples tear, warm blood trickling down his cheeks. “That doesn’t… I’m useless, okay, I don’t even know why I exist and I’m—I’m supposed to be dead, I should have died—what you said isn’t true, it’s not, because then—then—I’m…”
“Dead?” Shigaraki leans closer. His hands come up to frame Dabi’s cheeks. He’s doing that a lot lately, touching others and especially him, Dabi notices in a distant part of his mind. “What are you talking about?”
Dabi shakes his head. His breath hitches and another wounded noise escapes his mouth. He covers his mouth with a trembling hand, trying hard to suppress what he can’t even deny are sobs. “He—he was wrong, I know that, but still I—you—you have to be lying!”
“Dabi.” Shigaraki sounds like he’s in pain. His thumbs swipe at the blood, looking straight into Dabi’s eyes as he gasps for air that won’t come. “I don’t know who hurt you, but he’s dead, okay? I’ll kill him myself. Nothing he told you was true. You’re not useless. You’re a part of the League; you’re meant to be at my side as we destroy this worthless society.”
He shatters.
All the little cracks that spiderwebbed their way throughout him tear apart, until all that’s left is a pile of broken pieces. Dabi can’t stop himself from leaning forward until his face is buried in the crook of Shigaraki’s neck, helplessly sobbing for the first time in a decade. His hands clutch onto Shigaraki’s coat like he’s the only thing tethering Dabi to the world, and maybe he is.
After a few tense moments, he feels hesitant arms wrap around his back. They aren’t holding him as tightly as they could, still shy and unsure, but just the touch is grounding enough. “Whatever he did to you… you didn’t deserve that,” Shigaraki murmurs in his ear. “We’ll kill him together, okay? He isn’t allowed to hurt any of my allies.”
Dabi cries and cries, letting out all the pain he’s kept bottled up inside for the last ten years, and Shigaraki holds him throughout it, a steady rock that Dabi can latch onto when it feels like the inside of his chest is tearing apart, a collapsing black hole.
When his sniffles finally die down, his shuddering breaths calming, Dabi feels a hesitant pat on his back. “You… alright now, Dabi?”
Dabi mumbles an affirmative, not entirely sure what he’s feeling at the moment. He lifts his head from Shigaraki’s shoulder, realizing that he’d soaked the coat through with blood and snot. Ugh.
“I’m not one for comforting others, really,” Shigaraki starts awkwardly, “but hope I helped in some way?”
“You did,” Dabi mumbles, not sure what exactly Shigaraki did, but his presence was more than enough. He keeps his gaze downwards, avoiding eye contact. Shame builds up within him, a sticky, oily feeling filling him up like tar. “I… don’t usually get like that.”
“I’m well aware,” Shigaraki says, clearly trying for a teasing tone. “You’re a massive dick, usually.”
Dabi continues, ignoring him. Although, Shigaraki isn’t wrong. He’s a heartless, unfeeling monster. He’s supposed to be, at least. But even he can’t deny that just a few moments ago he was crying harder than he has in the past ten years. “I don’t cry. My tear ducts are all fucked up and burnt. So.”
“Huh,” Shigaraki says, “that sucks. The tear ducts thing.”
It’s blunt, straightforward, and Dabi can’t help but let out a slight chuckle. “Yeah.”
“Are you ready to focus on the mission now?” Shigaraki asks. “Or do you want to… talk about it? I’m assuming you don’t, because you’re you.”
“Fuck you,” Dabi says without any real heat behind the words. He wipes his bloody face with a palm, sniffing. “Yeah, let’s continue with the mission.”
It takes a few more hours of watching before Shigaraki nudges Dabi’s shoulder. “Saw some people leave,” he whispers. He opens the drawstring bag he brought along and pulls out some masks, handing one to Dabi.
“What if they took the drugs with them?” Dabi asks, the thought coming to him suddenly. “For whatever they’re planning on doing.”
“I don’t think they have anything,” Shigaraki says. “They were probably bluffing to seem like a bigger threat than they are, or they have some shitty knockoffs. I don’t know.” The grin he gives Dabi is deadly, sharp, like a blade’s edge. “Either way, we’ve got this, Dabi.” He puts on the mask and climbs out through the window onto the tiny balcony, taking the fire escape down.
Dabi follows, the way he always does, and the way he’ll always do. Going down is far easier than up, and they make it to the ground outside in a matter of minutes.
The base itself is just a repurposed warehouse, not unlike their own. Whatever this gang is, they’re probably not as powerful as the Shie Hassaikai were. They enter through the same door the members left, and Shigaraki instantly pulls him aside into what turns out to be a closet.
“So what now?” Dabi asks. It’s too dark to see anything, so he lets a little fire flare to life in his palm.
“There might still be some people around, so keep an eye out for them. I want to look for wherever they might be keeping their weapons. And if they do have anything dangerous… Dabi, you have permission to blow them all up.”
Dabi grins viciously under the mask. “Can I do it anyway? Just because.”
Shigaraki rolls his eyes. “Fine, you fucking pyromaniac. Sure.” After a pause, he turns away from Dabi and ties his hair up, completely unaware of how it makes Dabi’s heart beat twice in rapid succession. “It’s a good thing no one knows what my face looks like without Father.”
“What about me,” Dabi says.
“Does it look like you can do anything to disguise yourself? Shigaraki asks. “It’s not like you can remove your hair dye right here.”
“How do you know it’s—”
“Dabi.” Shigaraki turns to look at him incredulously. “Everyone knows you dye your hair. You’re not nearly as subtle as you think you are.”
Dabi elects to ignore that fact for the moment. “I have hair dye remover in my pouch.”
Shigaraki’s face, if possible, grows even more incredulous. “Why? You’ve been carrying that everywhere for months. What is wrong with you?”
“Everything,” Dabi answers honestly.
Shigaraki closes his eyes and breathes deeply for a moment. “Okay, fine, use it if you want,” he says eventually. “It’ll help.”
Dabi does, certain he’ll regret it later. But at the moment, he’ll do anything he can to please Shigaraki. And if that means removing the hair dye he’s been seeing on himself for years then so be it.
Shigaraki stares at him, eyes wide, when they step out of the closet. “Oh,” he breathes. “I wasn’t expecting…”
Dabi wipes the excess remover dripping down his face and neck with his hand, grimacing at the wetness. “What?”
Shigaraki startles, his entire face reddening. “Nothing,” he says, averting his gaze, still blushing furiously. “Let’s just continue.”
The warehouse goes up in flames, and Dabi and Shigaraki make a mad dash for the exit, laughing the entire way.
They hadn’t found anything of value, nothing that indicated they were on their way to overshadowing the League of Villains. And so Dabi quickly torched the place just as some of the gang members spotted them sneaking around. Just as a distraction.
When they make their way outside, blue flames eating away at the foundation of the building, Dabi can’t help himself from grabbing Shigaraki and hugging him tightly, smiling so widely that his staples pop and tear the skin. “You saw that, right, boss? We did great!”
Shigaraki’s frozen in his arms, but then he grips back just as tight, a huge, manic grin on his face. His pupils are blown wide, only a thin ring of crimson at the edges. He holds Dabi’s face, pressing against his cheeks and leaning forward until all Dabi can see are his frenzied eyes. “Dabi! You’ll be at my side as I destroy everything, right? You’ll be my right hand man when I become king of the world? You’re not leaving me?”
And Dabi, high off the death and destruction he just caused, doesn’t think as he promises, “I’ll be with you, forever and always.”
Even later, he can’t bring himself to regret his words. Somehow, somewhere along the way, he stopped imagining a future of revenge and suicide, and started imagining one where he’d spend the rest of his life with Tomura Shigaraki. One where he lived, and spent his life with a man he once thought he hated.
It was a slow development, he thinks, like a narrow, trickling river. Eventually it built up until this point, where he knows now he won’t let Tomura go. Never. Not even if the entire world tries to tear them apart. Dabi will simply burn them all down, just so he can look into those blood moon eyes every morning.
He doesn’t regret the words, and he doesn’t think he ever will.
Especially when he looks over to his left and sees Tomura, gorgeous and pale-haired, a specter of death and a bright light leading Dabi forward. Especially when they happen to meet gazes and can’t help but share a secretive smile, one only understood by the two of them. Especially when Spinner looks between the two of them when they return, utterly confused. “You two went on a mission and Dabi came back with a new hair color? What the hell?”
The two of them merely look at each other and burst into a fresh set of laughter. For the first time that Dabi can remember, he thinks that maybe the future is worth it.
Dabi can’t deny there’s something going on between the two of them. Not anymore.
“What are you playing?” he asks, spotting Spinner with some sort of video game on their stolen TV.
“GTA,” Spinner responds, focused on stealing a car. At least, that’s what Dabi thinks he’s doing. After a few more moments, he pauses and looks over at Dabi, who’s still standing there. Normally, he would have left by now. Normally, he wouldn’t have even asked Spinner what he was doing. Normally, he wouldn’t initiate a conversation unless it was to insult somebody. “You… want something?”
Dabi twists his mouth. “I’ve never played before.”
Spinner blinks at him. “Okay?”
He attempts to continue, but the words get stuck in his mouth, refusing to come out.
Spinner looks between him and the TV. “You wanna try?” He pats the spot next to him.
“No,” Dabi says immediately. He still sits down, and when Spinner passes him the controller, he takes it without protest. It doesn’t take long for Dabi to get a hang of the game and start blowing everything up with Spinner’s guidance, a genuine smile on his face.
He finds Toga with her hair down, running her comb through the golden strands. There’s a stricken expression on her face, which is what makes him pause.
“What’s up?”
Toga turns to him, and it’s as though a switch flipped, because within seconds her regular grin is back, as though she hadn’t just been staring into the mirror looking absolutely broken and desolate. “Hi, Dabi! Just getting ready.”
Toga shouldn’t ever make that face again, Dabi is thinking, which is what drives him to move forward and snatch the comb from her hand. “What kind of hairstyle do you want?”
She blinks at him, taken aback. “What?”
“You want your usual buns or something different?” What is he doing?
“Surprise me,” Toga says cautiously. But at least she doesn’t look so upset anymore. Dabi takes her hair in his hand and gently starts brushing through it, surprised at himself for how soft he’s acting. Still, he doesn’t stop.
“You should always smile,” Dabi tells her quietly after a few minutes, not even thinking about what he’s saying. All he knows is that he doesn’t want to see Toga so upset. It’s… not right. “Forget whatever it was you were thinking about just now, okay? You have a nice smile.”
Toga’s eyes, when he meets her gaze in the mirror, are wide and shocked. Her lips curve up. Just the slightest bit. “Okay, Dabi.”
And when she sees the braid Dabi gave her, her face splits into a wide, genuine grin as she hugs him tightly (and Dabi just lets her).
Twice is hunched over the table, head in hands. He’s clutching on tightly to a handkerchief. It’s rare to see him so down, and Dabi finds himself stopping and staring, unsure of what to do. “Twice,” he says eventually, “get dressed for the cold. We’re going out.”
Twice lifts his head. “Huh?”
“We’re going out.” Dabi’s tone leaves no room for discussion. “I want to show you something.”
It takes a few minutes, but eventually Twice shows up at the exit where Dabi was waiting for him, clad in a jacket and scarf on top of his villain uniform.
Twice is uncharacteristically quiet as he follows Dabi through the streets. It’s late fall now, the wind biting and the sky gray. To Dabi, though, it’s just refreshing after the heavy humidity of summertime.
They end up in a back alley, and Dabi leads Twice over to a small cardboard box. “Be a little quiet, she has kittens.” Dabi kneels on the cold ground and reaches in, petting the mother. After a pause, Twice kneels down next to Dabi. He hesitantly reaches in, letting the cat sniff his hand.
There’s a soft mew. Dabi picks up the black kitten batting at his hand. She’s small, fits into his palm without any trouble. “I feed them sometimes,” he says, placing Kuromi in his lap and petting her fluffy, black fur. “And I got them a blanket since it’s almost winter.”
“Huh,” Twice says. He’s petting the mother, her deep purrs reverberating through the alleyway. “That’s nice of you.”
Dabi glances away. “Shut up.” The effect is ruined by the fact that the other kittens are climbing out of the box onto him, letting out little squeaks and meows. “Thought you might like to see them. You like animals, don’t you?”
“Sure do,” Twice says, sounding more like himself. He’s so large next to the tiny white kitten—Cinnamoroll—on his lap, but he treats him with utmost care. “I think they make great meals!”
Dabi snorts lightly. “Well,” he starts, “you should come see them more often. Make sure they’re okay. In case I…” He pauses. In case he what? Succeeds in his suicide plan? For once, the thought only fills him with dread.
Twice clearly catches onto what he’s implying, because he gives Dabi a look. “We can come see them together, don’t be silly.” He wraps his free arm around Dabi, pulling him in close.
They spend a while just petting the cats, Dabi introducing each and every one: Hello Kitty, Kuromi, Keroppi, and Cinnamoroll. He even sneaks in a few pictures of Twice covered in tiny, happily purring kittens. He’s sure Toga will love to see the photos later.
It’s when they return to the base that Twice hugs Dabi tightly. “Thank you, Dabi. I really needed that.”
“Don’t know what the hell you’re talking about,” Dabi mumbles, looking away as his face flushes. But Twice is smiling again, and Dabi can’t help but weakly smile back.
Mister’s showing off his magic tricks again in the common room. Dabi usually ignores moments like these—team bonding activities, Tomura calls them—and either goes out or goes to sleep instead. But for the first time, he finds himself sitting there among everyone else watching as Mister puts on a show for them.
It’s… not the most impressive thing he’s seen, but Mister is clearly excited when the others cheer him on, so Dabi bites his tongue and doesn’t say anything.
Afterwards, when the others have left and it’s just Dabi and Mister in the room, he can’t help himself from speaking. “Were you, like, actually a magician, or…”
Mister chuckles. “Why don’t you answer that for yourself?”
Dabi glares at him. “How does that tell me anything at all? You’re not even good at magic.”
Mister reaches forward, behind Dabi’s ear, and pulls his hand back. Between his fingers is a coin. “Are you so sure, dearest Dabi?”
“Yeah.” Dabi rolls his eyes. “I know that was in your sleeve, old man.”
“Ah, but was it truly?” Mister asks, a playful tinge to his voice. He flips the coin, once, twice—and it disappears from his hand, palm completely empty.
“Now it’s just back in your sleeve,” Dabi complains. “Your tricks suck.”
“It’s not about whether or not they’re good,” Mister tells him. “They’re basic magic tricks anyone can do. But don’t you think we villains deserve a bit of magic in our lives? We get so little happiness as it is. I enjoy bringing some joy to everyone however I can.”
Dabi grimaces. “Why?”
“We’re just people too, are we not? Ones who’ve had hard lives. Indulging in a bit of fun won’t kill any of us.” He places a gloved hand on Dabi’s shoulder. “That includes you.” With that, Mister turns away, one hand raised in farewell. “Sleep well, Dabi.”
Dabi does not, in fact, sleep well, too focused on what Mister had told him. The words keep repeating themselves in his mind, cycling around and around and around until sunrise and Dabi realizes he hasn’t slept all night.
Later, Dabi walks up to Mister. “Teach me your magic tricks,” he says. It’s a demand, not a question.
Mister has the mask on, but Dabi gets the feeling that he’s grinning, a cheeriness to his tone as he says, “Why, of course, dear Dabi! Where shall we start?”
He and Tomura don’t talk about it. But there’s nothing awkward between them like Dabi would have expected. It’s more comfortable, as though they’ve settled into this new… thing, without even needing to discuss whatever it is.
“Dabi’s changed, hasn’t he?” Dabi hears Spinner whisper moments before he enters the dining room of the old, abandoned house they’re staying in.
He pauses just outside the doorway, looking in. Everyone but Tomura is seated at the table, digging into the takeout they’d gotten with the stash of money Dabi forced Hawks to hand over as a fake hazing ritual—western food, it looks like. “Ever since he and the boss… it’s like he’s a completely different person.”
“What, does it bother you?” Toga asks.
Spinner shakes his head quickly. “No! But it’s weird, I guess. Seeing him so nice. For him, at least. He’s still a dick in comparison to other people.”
“Well, Shigaraki’s changed quite a bit, too,” Mister points out. “Need I remind you of how he acted when we all first met?”
Toga makes a face, sticking out her tongue. “Ugh, I sure don’t miss that Tomura.” She rests her chin in her hands, smiling. “It’s because Dabi’s in love. He’s finally starting to melt.”
“I think he’s happier,” Twice says quietly. “With us.”
“You think so?” Spinner asks. “Yeah, maybe. He sure was a gloomy ass when he joined.”
“Now he’s just gloomy,” Toga says cheerfully.
“Hey, watch it,” Dabi says, stepping into the room. Their heads swivel towards him, eyes wide when they realize he caught them speaking about him.
“Oh,” Spinner says blankly, “how much of that did you hear?”
“I haven’t changed,” Dabi says, “don’t know what the hell you’re talking about.”
Twice pats the seat next to him. “Forget about it, Dabi, join us for lunch. Fuck off!”
“Have I been acting nicer?” Dabi asks, ignoring him. He thought he’s been acting the same as always.
They look at each other. Finally, Mister clears his throat, and says, “You have been quite charitable of late. We don’t think it’s a bad thing. Rather, we’re quite happy for you. We’re glad you feel more comfortable with us now.”
“I. Well. I’m not,” he says, sweating. Have they really been taking all his actions as kindness? “I’m just manipulating you. For my own gain.”
“If you were manipulating us why would you even tell us that? Kind of defeats the purpose,” Spinner points out. “Come on, man, just sit down and have lunch with us. Shigaraki’s gonna join us in a few minutes, too.”
There’s a pause. Dabi quietly slides onto the chair next to Twice.
“Woo!” Twice wraps an arm around his shoulders. “Is there anything you want, Dabi? We got some American food today.”
“Some fries,” Dabi mumbles, and Mister passes him several packets, along with a wrapped burger.
“You need to eat more,” he insists when Dabi looks at him questioningly.
Dabi shrugs him off, snapping that he doesn’t need charity, but he still stares down at the food with a warmth in his chest that he can’t blame on his quirk.
Tomura joins them not too long after as Spinner said he would. He doesn’t even hesitate to sit down by Dabi’s empty side. He’s complaining about their decision to get western food again, and Twice pretends to be hurt that Tomura doesn't appreciate his efforts to get them all a decent lunch while Toga eggs them both on, and everyone is laughing while enjoying their food together, and Dabi finds himself thinking, There’s nowhere else I’d rather be than here.
At night, Dabi does something he never thought he would ever do, too fixated on burning his ties to his family to even consider the possibility. But now he’s found himself standing outside the hospital anyway. It’s a last-ditch option; he’s confused and doesn’t know who else to talk to about this (and him making the effort to try and talk things out instead of running away, that’s new, too).
It’s a struggle, but eventually he manages to climb his way up to the third floor window, seating himself on the window sill and knocking on the glass. His heart pounds in his chest, a loud rush of blood in his ears drowning out the silence of nighttime.
It takes a few moments, but eventually the curtains are drawn apart. Mom blinks at him, confused and dazed from being woken up in the middle of the night, and her eyes widen. Before Dabi can somehow try to reassure her that he’s not some creep through the glass separating them, tears fill her eyes as she pulls the window open and whispers in disbelief, “Touya…?”
Nausea fills him at the name, the first time it’s been spoken in his presence in ten years. He never thought—he had hoped, but— “You… recognize me?”
A strangled sob escapes its way out of Mom’s throat, tears spilling down her cheeks. “Of course I would recognize my own son.” She reaches for his arms, helping him into the room. When he’s standing in front of her, Mom hugs him tightly. She’s trembling from head to toe, and Dabi is reminded of just how fragile she appeared to him during those last few years.
“You’re alive. Oh my god, you’re alive. My baby is alive,” Mom whispers, in some sort of trance. She grabs his face and kisses him repeatedly, on his cheeks, on his forehead, on his eyelids. She doesn’t flinch away from the tough skin of his scars, the numerous staples, paying close, delicate attention to those areas.
And Dabi lets her, despite how surprised he is at the affection. Their relationship, at the end, had been strained, by Endeavor’s influence and Touya’s desperation. Now he’s old enough to recognize that Mom had been put in a difficult situation and that she did what she could, even if what she did hurt Touya, but at the time, he had directed all his anger at her.
But for some reason, the thought that she (and the rest of their family) didn’t miss him agonized him beyond belief. Those early years, when he was still a young and damaged teen, all he could wonder was whether they missed him, if they even noticed he was gone.
And then one day, it became too much for his mind to handle. And Dabi was born from the gaping black hole in Touya’s chest. And he burnt his emotions out, refusing to think about his family and what they meant to him.
But now, he has direct proof that his mother missed him beyond words could ever describe. And he doesn’t know what to think (hasn’t, for a while).
Mom runs gentle fingertips over his damaged, scarred skin. “Touya…” she murmurs. “What brought you here? Where have you been?”
There’s a lump in his throat, choking him as he struggles for words. “Mom. You don’t need to—I’m not a good person,” he says quietly.
“I don’t care,” Mom insists. She guides him over to her bed, seating herself next to him and clutching his hands tightly. She rubs her thumb over his wrist, right where he’s stapled himself together.
“I’ve killed people,” Dabi tells her. He can’t bring himself to look at her, focuses down at his feet.
There’s a pause, and Dabi expects her to kick him out, scream at him, do something.
A hand lifts his face up, forcing him to look her in the eyes. There’s a light in them that Dabi can’t ever remember seeing, not even as a young child. “Touya, baby, I don’t care. I don’t care what you’ve done. What you’re doing right now. I’m just happy to know you’re alive, and I’ll be happier if I know that you’re happy.”
Dabi doesn’t say anything to that, shaking. Blood leaks out from his seams. “How can you—” he chokes out. “What are you saying?”
Mom pulls him in closer, pressing his face into the crook of her neck. “I’m… sorry I wasn’t a very good mother to you.”
“Mom, you don’t need to—”
“Shh. I’ve spent ten years thinking about what happened to you, what I could have changed. Everyday I would wake up and think about my mistakes and regrets. But Touya, the one thing that’s never changed is how much I love you. Even though I… wasn’t always the best to you, I loved you more than words could ever say. And when I heard that you—you—my heart broke completely.” Her hand pats his back comfortingly, running soothing circles into it the way she did whenever he was sick as a kid. “So whatever it is, Touya, whatever you need, I’ll give it to you.”
Dabi sniffs, clutching onto her. “I don’t know what I’m doing,” he admits into her neck. “For ten years, I… was certain of what I wanted, and what I wanted was to destroy Endeavor and end this worthless hero society. But now I keep having doubts—not about society, about myself. I keep thinking… I want more than that. I want my life to be something not defined by him.”
“That’s a normal thing to want, Touya,” Mom says after a pause. “I know you’ve been raised to believe the opposite, but—Enji was wrong. For everything he did. And you can do what you want. What makes you happy.”
“I think I made friends,” Dabi continues quietly. “Other villains, but. I thought I didn’t care anymore, about anything. I thought that fire burned away all my feelings and turned me into a monster.” He bites his lip, thinking. “…My plan was to commit suicide while destroying Dad. I figured there was nothing worth living for after he was gone.”
“Oh, Touya,” Mom says sadly. Her fingers brush through his hair, softer now that the dye is out. “I’m so sorry for whatever you went through in those ten years to make you think that. But none of it is true. You’re a kind boy, with a big heart. You love so strongly, more than you may even realize, and your life is worth so much more than what Enji told you. You deserve to be happy and live life the way you want.”
“...I’m in love, I think. And I’m so scared. Of letting him in.”
Mom is quiet for a moment. “You know, I’ve never held any love for Enji, not even in the early days.” She pushes him away from her neck, looking him straight in the eyes and hands tight on his shoulders. “The first time I fell in love, it was when you were born. Touya, you were the first person I truly loved. And it was a terrifying feeling, to know that your entire heart could be devoted to one being. But I don’t regret having you, even after everything. I don’t think I can even begin to explain how happy I am to see that you’re alive and here with me.”
She pulls him in for another hug, squeezing him tightly. “I know it will take time for you to believe all this. But think about my words, okay? Don’t be afraid to let love into your heart again.”
Dabi is silent, overwhelmed by the emotions he’s feeling right now. He can’t quite seem to control his racing thoughts, unsure of what exactly to think about what Mom is saying to him. All he knows is, he wants to stay here in his mother’s arms forever.
Neither of them sleep for the rest of the night, instead spending hours catching up while lying down facing each other. It’s comfortable in a way that Dabi can’t ever remember his conversations with Mom being, the shadow of Endeavor permanently looming over the two of them. But now he isn’t here to hurt either of them, and they can finally talk to each other as equals.
It’s just before dawn breaks, when the sky is pale and gray, that Dabi decides he should leave before it gets too difficult to sneak out. Somehow, he almost doesn’t want to go.
“Come visit me again, okay?” Mom asks, holding onto both his hands. “Let me know how everything goes.”
“I will,” Dabi says, and surprisingly, he means the promise.
She smiles, small and sad, and runs the knuckle of her pointer finger over one of the scars under his eyes. “Touya. I’m not going to tell you to stop using your quirk. I know you won’t listen. But please… my darling baby, please be careful. Please—come back to me. Come back to all of us. Me and your siblings—we all miss you so much.”
His breath catches, heart stuttering. But he can’t stay a moment longer. After letting her hug him one more time, he gives her a slight smile before climbing back out through the window.
He ends up passing out and waking up in the afternoon, exhausted from the strength of the emotions hitting him all night.
When he wakes, he finds a box with a note on top. Toga and Twice both bullied me into leaving this for you, it reads, you better not be getting sick. Idiot. The characters are scratchy, jerky, and Dabi knows it couldn’t be written by anyone other than Tomura.
When he opens the box, he sees it’s full of onigiri, clearly having been stolen from a nearby konbini. Dabi takes a bite of the umeboshi one and doesn’t bother to stop the smile that spreads across his face since he’s alone at the moment.
Living with the League… maybe he can get used to this.
“So you’re the asshole that burnt down our base.”
Dabi turns to face a small group of people glaring him down. Oh. They didn’t bother checking if there were survivors, drunk off each other.
“Man, he’s even more freakish looking in real life,” one of them, a short woman with dark, choppy hair comments.
“Thought he had black hair,” one of the men says, nodding at him. “That’s what they always showed on the news.”
“Who cares? With that burnt up face there’s no doubt it’s him!”
“Well this is awkward,” Dabi says. He thrusts up a hand, calling up the flames always simmering just beneath his skin, only to freeze.
The dark haired woman has her arm held up, mirroring Dabi’s pose. As she moves her hand down, he realizes his arm follows in the exact same way. Soon, his arms are tight against his sides, and he’s kneeling down in front of them. No matter what, he can’t break free of the control, paralyzed and trapped before the gang.
He bursts into flames when one of them attempts to tie him up. A fist flies towards his face, and everything goes black.
He wakes up tied up in a chair, face and head throbbing. Judging by the dried blood clogging up his nose and coating his lips, he must have a massive bruise all over the healthy parts of his face.
When he attempts to move, he finds that he’s still restrained by that same paralysis quirk on top of the zipties and gag. A quick glance upwards reveals the woman seated in front of him in the exact same pose. Dabi spares himself a moment to mentally laugh at how cramped she must feel, if his own body is anything to go by.
He really went and got himself kidnapped by some loser gang. This is actually the most embarrassing thing that’s happened to him yet. Toga is never going to let this go.
“He’s awake,” the woman announces without moving a muscle besides her mouth. Dabi feels his own mouth struggle to move with the gag in the way, but not a sound comes out.
A large, burly man with pale blue hair stalks forward and his hand tangles itself in his hair, dragging his head up. Or his head moved up on its own, he’s not really sure. “You sure caused a lot of trouble for us, League of Villains trash,” the man hisses right in his face, breath hot.
Dabi can’t even speak. This is hell.
“Our base is gone, and so are our supplies. We didn’t even target you, so what gives?” he continues, as though Dabi could actually give an answer. He stays silent.
The man lets go. “Well, no matter. You’re helpful to us now. We’ll just lure Shigaraki out using you as bait.” He tosses something in the air, catching it with one hand, and Dabi realizes it’s his phone. “You have a really shitty passcode, by the way, what the hell is wrong with you.”
Maybe Spinner was right about 1234 being a bad passcode.
The man starts tapping at something on his phone before holding it up in front of him. “Hey, Tomura Shigaraki, right?” he says.
“What the hell?” Comes Tomura’s tinny voice. “Who the hell are you? Where’s Dabi?”
“See for yourself.”
Oh no, this is not good. Everyone’s going to see how lame he is. Sure enough, in a few moments he hears Toga’s shrill laughter burst through the speakers, before someone loudly shushes her.
Tomura’s voice, when he speaks, is full of barely restrained anger. “What the fuck did you do to—”
“We want you to come down unaccompanied, Tomura Shigaraki. You will give up all of your quirk destroying drugs in return for your villain. Are you willing to pay the price?”
“What the fuck? You are so stupid. Do you realize what you’re asking for?”
“Do it, or he dies!” the man snaps. “Can you really afford to lose what’s left of your little group? The League of Villains are not what they used to be. Are those drugs really worth his life?”
If it were any other villain they were speaking to, Dabi gets the feeling the answer would be yes. But with the League…
“You are so fucking stupid,” Tomura repeats. “...Let’s talk in private.”
The man pauses, then shrugs, moving aside so that he’s out of Dabi’s view.
Now, Dabi could probably escape on his own if he really tried. His fire still works, and if he focuses enough he can direct it where he wants it to go without moving a muscle. But a part of him is curious if Tomura would come for him if prompted, and so he stays put.
It doesn’t even occur to him that he’s putting his life in someone else’s hands.
Tomura shows up as the man asked. Unaccompanied. Dabi’s heart beats twice. “Give me my villain back,” Tomura says coldly.
“Not until you hand over the drugs,” the man returns.
Dabi has no doubt Tomura is glaring daggers from behind Father. “Fine. Here are your damn drugs.” He pulls them out of his pocket and tosses them to the man. Dabi’s assuming they’re fake copies made by Twice, because no way Tomura would give up the real ones. “Now give him back. He’s mine.”
He can’t help the sudden flutters in his chest at the bold statement, a flush permeating his skin. Tomura’s never been quite so direct to others like this before.
The man starts laughing. “You’d really give up something as valuable as these for some useless grunt’s life? Well, it works out for us.” He nods at the woman. “Let him go.”
It’s as if a string holding him up snaps, because suddenly he feels heavier and he has put effort into not falling over. His bindings are undone, and Dabi stumbles as he gets up, unused to moving himself.
Tomura quickly catches him and doesn’t let go. Softly, he murmurs, “Dabi. Get away from here.”
Dabi barely has moments to react before Tomura lunges forward and dusts the woman who had paralyzed him, leaving behind dust and blood where there was once flesh.
The gang members don’t hesitate to retaliate, going straight for Tomura. He whirls around and presses his whole hand against another person’s face, their body gone within seconds.
He’s insane if he thinks Dabi’s just going to stand to the side like some sort of damsel in distress. Dabi lets a large blast of flames erupt from his palm, torching everyone in his path.
Dabi keeps glancing back at Tomura, seeing the way he moves with absolute certainty. There’s not a bit of hesitation in his body, movements he’s honed and trained for years as he murders everyone coming for him with deadly precision. He’s untouchable, a god amongst mortals.
It doesn’t take long before the room is empty save for the leader, who’s on his back with Tomura pressing a foot hard against his chest.
Tomura rips off Father, shouting down at him. “Dabi’s mine, you hear that? No one gets to fuck with him. He belongs to me !” He leans down and holds both hands against the man’s head, watching as cracks spiderweb their way through his body, blood spilling out.
But Dabi’s eyes are only on Tomura, as he laughs and laughs and laughs, blood covering his face and hands and chest. He’s never looked more beautiful, he thinks, than in this empty warehouse, surrounded by blood and metal.
And it is here, in this moment, that Dabi thinks, I’m in love with him.
Here, with only the remains of what were once living, breathing human beings for company, Dabi knows there’s no going back, not when Tomura came for him. He stares and stares, hardly breathing, caught in a trance where all he can see is Tomura’s beautiful, laughing face, blood covering him in a macabre imitation of makeup.
“Dabi. Dabi!” Tomura’s grabbing at him. “What’s with you?”
Dabi refocuses, fixating on his eyes. The same shade as the liquid staining him red. “Tomura…” he breathes.
“Why did you wait for me?” Tomura shakes him by the shoulders, looking concerned. “I know you could have escaped on your own, but you just sat there waiting for me. Why? That’s not like you at all.”
A corner of his mouth quirks up. “Maybe… maybe I wanted to see if you would come and save me,” Dabi caresses his face with a hand, eyes half-lidded, “like a true hero.”
Tomura lets go and steps away. “What? You are so stupid! What if they had just killed you anyway? What if this was a trap? What if I never came and just left you?”
“You would have come. You’d always come for me,” Dabi insists in that same, low voice.
“But you just said—” Tomura buries his face in his hands. “I can’t believe that you would actually—”
But Dabi can’t hear what he says, focused as he is on the image of Tomura all bloody and sweaty and dirty and so, so beautiful. Because he came for him. For Dabi. He risked everything just to make sure Dabi would be okay, would be safe.
“You’re an idiot, you know that, right?”
“Yeah,” Dabi agrees, not even hearing the words. “Let’s make out.”
Tomura startles. “What?”
“Kiss me!” Dabi grabs his face and pulls him forward, kissing him deeply. They end up on the ground, Dabi straddling Tomura’s hips as he viciously kisses him, biting his lips and licking up the blood that spills, the taste of metal blooming on his tongue. He pulls away for a moment, breathing heavily. “You said I’m yours, right? You can’t take that back, I’m yours forever and ever and ever. And you’ll always come for me, I know you will, because I’m yours and no one else’s and I only belong to you—” He dives down again, messily licking into his mouth.
Tomura gasps as he clumsily reciprocates the kiss. Their teeth crash against each other, and Dabi merely tilts his head, devouring Tomura whole. When he separates the kiss for a moment to get some fresh air, Tomura grabs onto Dabi’s hips. “What’s gotten into you?”
Dabi looks down at him, at the mess he’s made of Tomura’s face, and desire pulses within him. “I just finally know what I want. And what I want is you, you motherfucker.” He shrugs off his coat before ripping off his shirt and tossing it to the side, a macabre grin slashing its way across his face when he spots the way Tomura’s pupils dilate at the sight of him. Lost in the frenzy as he is, he barely even registers the fact that he’s exposing all his scars. “Like what you see?”
“I—I’m not going to pretend I’m not into whatever is going on right now,” Tomura admits, eyes unblinking as he stares up at Dabi.
Dabi leans down, pressing a soft, chaste kiss to the tip of Tomura’s nose, oddly sweet in the midst of his passion. “I want you, Tomura Shigaraki,” he murmurs, voice heavy and sultry. “Do you want me?”
And Tomura, powerful, deadly, beautiful, sweet Tomura, says, “Yes.”
Late that night, Dabi grabs Tomura’s hand and drags him outside. “Come on, Tomura, I want to tell you something.”
“When did you start calling me that…?” But Tomura doesn’t protest, letting himself be pulled along.
They end up sitting side by side, staring up at the starry sky. “Alright, so. What is it, Dabi?”
“Touya.”
“What?”
Dabi takes a deep breath and closes his eyes. He can’t back out now. “My name is Touya. Touya Todoroki.” His eyes flutter open just in time to see Tomura turn to him, lips parted.
“You’re…” There’s silence, and then finally he reaches over to grab Dabi’s hand, lifting it to Tomura’s chest, over his heart. “He’s dead—Endeavor. You don’t need to tell me more, okay? We’ll kill him together, just the two of us.”
Dabi mouth is dry. “I’d like that,” he says hoarsely, feeling warm blood blooming from beneath his scars. He bites his lip, thinking. “...Tomura.” He hums, indicating that he’s listening. “You were wrong. About being unlovable.”
Tomura’s hand twitches, slightly. Dabi’s hand tightens around his. “What…?”
“I don’t think you’re unlovable,” Dabi repeats, leaning closer. “Not at all.” If it were anyone else he was speaking to, they would have thought his words cryptic and vague. But Dabi knows Tomura, he knows the way his mind works. He’ll fill in the blanks himself and figure out what Dabi’s trying to say. Because Tomura knows how Dabi’s mind works.
Tomura gazes at him. For a long time. Dabi can’t quite figure out what he must be feeling, but after a few minutes he notices that tears have started pooling in Tomura’s eyes. It’s the first time he’s seen Tomura cry, Dabi realizes, and the sight takes his breath away.
“Dabi,” Tomura chokes out. “I don’t—I can’t believe you just yet. But—you—you aren’t either.” His words are clipped, uncertain. “Unlovable, I mean.”
His heart stutters. The words are so much more than he could have ever imagined. “Yeah?” Dabi leans even closer, their hands clasped tightly.
Tomura presses their foreheads together, breaching the last bit of air between the two of them. “Yeah,” he breathes, eyes closed. “Dabi. Touya. You were right when you said that I would always come for you.” He uses his free hand to guide their lips together, his fingertips soft on Dabi’s cheek. When they pull apart, foreheads still touching, he continues. “Even if I was on the opposite side of the world—hell, if I was on another planet. Nothing could have stopped me from coming when you needed me.”
Hearing the admission makes the blood stream down his face even faster. Tomura wipes it off with a thumb, a tender expression on his face that Dabi never thought he would ever see from Tomura Shigaraki. “You’re crying, aren’t you? It’s just tears of blood instead.” His own tears are slipping down his face, but despite them, he’s smiling.
Dabi touches his cheek, fingers coming away wet with his blood. “...Maybe,” he says, not quite ready to admit it just yet. “Why are you crying?”
Tomura wipes at his face with his forearm. “I don’t know. Guess we’re both just super fucked up when it comes to emotions.”
“Then,” Dabi says softly, taking Tomura’s free hand into his own, “let’s be super fucked up together.”