It's like this:

.

Kemuri goes rigid with something more than fear and the snarl bubbles in her throat but doesn't reach her lips. The eyes that watch her are amused even as they step out of the darkness and the polished steel drips red with her blood.

"That's an interesting look," rasps Stain and she can hear Dabi's answering laugh.

A warm hand drops on top of her head, familiar pressure, and Kemuri's thoughts clear and turn to fog behind her eyes. Dabi knows better than to mistake the fine tremor running through as fear. Dabi knows better so when she stops shaking and nearly takes off Stain's face with a vicious burst of flame he's already clear of the fire and his laughter scrapes in his chest because he knew this would happen.

Kemuri watches the knives.

Kemuri watches the knives until there's too many of them to watch and then she starts melting them, heating the metal and watching Stain hiss and throw himself forward with the remains of what was once a cruel cutting edge. He's fast but Kemuri is fighting to kill.

Cold Burn, she thinks and doesn't say and Stain throws himself aside just a moment too late. The ground is black and scorched but cold. Kemuri breathes in ice and doesn't miss again.

"Well," says Stain, because she's got his heart underneath her palms and he doesn't want to see what an attack like that would do in close quarters. "I see what you were talking about."

Dabi's footsteps are familiar and Kemuri lets herself go limp as he hauls her up one-handed, like an unruly cat.

"Told you so," he says. There is a smug purr to his voice and Kemuri watches Stain's eyes narrow and his hand twitch. She's moving before she can think but Dabi reels her back before she can skewer herself on the blade Stain is holding. There is a strange light in Stain's eyes and a bloody smile twisting his lips.

"You'll do," he says.

Dabi shakes with silent laughter.

Kemuri doesn't question it when Stain offers her a blade, black all the way through and cold .

"You're shit at fighting though," says Stain and this time Dabi doesn't stop her.

.

Kemuri doesn't listen to the news.

Shouto is unlikely to be on it, not yet, and she doesn't care what the heroes are up to. Stain beats her into the ground every afternoon and talks about heroes in slow, even tones, seething hatred forged into a weapon, while he twists her arm and expects her to stab him with the other one broken. Kemuri manages because she's a quick study and Stain tends to forget that she doesn't care when she burns.

"Bloodthirsty little monster," he says, bandaging his newest wound and Kemuri rolls languidly over, waiting for his quirk to wear off. The praise burns pleasantly in her chest, warm.

.

The television is so much static noise and the words ring in her ears. Number 2 Hero Endeavor is expanding.

"New office," snarls Dabi. "How many more people is he gonna kill this time?"

It doesn't sound like a question.

"Shut up," says Kemuri and her voice sounds even worse than usual.

Dabi gives her a considering look, eyes burning. Kemuri rocks forward onto her feet.

The fight is vicious, ugly. They know each others weaknesses and don't hesitate to exploit them. Kemuri doesn't watch his hands and the flames snap sharp against her skin. Dabi doesn't expect the heat so soon after the cold and loses control of his arm. The hotel bed goes up in flames.

Kemuri goes stiff. Dabi sets fire to the rest of the room and her clothes were in there so she shatters three of his ribs and adds her own fire to the flame.

The hotel burns down.

Dabi gets them out in time and they sprawl over the cold cement while the heat washes over them. Kemuri pillows her head on his chest and makes noise of complaint.

"Shut up you're bony too," says Dabi but he shifts obligingly. They are quiet and something tangled goes loose in Kemuri's chest.

Dabi smears her face with ash when they go back to see if anything is salvageable from the smoking wreckage and she trips him into a cracked bathtub. She dodges his flames and the outraged shriek as the tub collapses underneath him is music to her ears.

Kemuri tucks a smile away in her chest and takes off on a running head start.

Dabi will catch up.

.

Shouto will be safe, she tells herself.

UA is a hero school, with unbreachable security and pro-heroes in every nook and cranny. Shouto will be safe.

.

Shouto is not safe.

Kemuri wants to scream but it comes out a wrecked, ruined sound and when she reaches out people burn.

She lets her intent rise into a sawing hum of wanttokillwillkilldie and villains buckle under the weight of it. Kemuri doesn't wait for the heroes to come because heroes are as fucking useless and she shouldn't have trusted them — should've taken Shouto away ages ago.

Shigaraki Tomura and his hulking beast are busy with other things and Dabi isn't nearby to stop her so when Kemuri catches sight of Shouto she almost buckles. Almost.

There's a strange imbalance to how he - oh. Kemuri is torn between oh you stupid sweet brother of mine and he's going to die this is going to kill him.

She doesn't know which part wins out but Shouto doesn't have a moment to blink before she's slamming into him and at least the heroes have taught him well enough that he doesn't think, just attacks in a wave of bone splitting ice. Kemuri melts it and throws him to the ground.

She breathes and breathes and her hands are ice cold when she wraps them around his face and Shouto looks gutted, trembling underneath her hands like he's going to crack and fall to pieces between her palms. He eyes catch and hold on her face and she reaches down to press their foreheads together and he makes a low, hurting noise before she is dragged down into a hug that squeezes the breath out of her. Shouto shudders out a sigh that catches in his throat and Kemuri can feel him struggling to stay together.

For moments there is silence and Kemuri's heartbeat slows down because he is safe. He is safe, he is safe, he is still alive.

Then the resounding smash of Shigaraki's pet beast breaking something sounds through the arena and Kemuri remembers where they are. The sound of screams and panic filter through afterwards. She drags herself upwards slow, unwilling to let him go now that she has him here beside her where its safe. But she has to. She has to.

"If you die," she says. "Shouto if you die I will kill you."

Shouto doesn't blink twice at her voice, or the livewire emotion all but leaking from every part of her.

"Contradiction," he murmurs instead, and tries to memorize her face. They both ignore how much he's shaking.

Kemuri gives him - both of them - a few more seconds before she slips away. She leaves Shouto with the impression of comforting cold. She leaves UA with All Might's voice ringing in her ears and blood on her hands.

A cursory glance at her clothes says it'll wash off.

Shigaraki rages on and on afterwards and Kemuri thinks of her brother, thinks of fire and slow rising steam, thinks of how no one notices the ice when streets are dark, thinks of warped metal and shattering, thinks of cold comfort. She doesn't think other things.

She doesn't think about wringing Shigaraki's throat, of shooting ice through his veins, doesn't think cold burn, doesn't think if anything happened to him I would have killed you first.

Kemuri curls silently at the corner of Kurogiri's bar, lays her cheek against the polished wood and doesn't think of anything at all.

Kurogiri throws her a look and when Dabi comes in that night as a new recruit, with a partner that doesn't do anything to hide her polished knives, she doesn't think of anything in particular. Lets her eyes drag over him, cool and assessing. Bares her throat like the invitation they both know it's not. Smiles at the girl - Himiko Toga - because Kemuri appreciates a good blade.

Kurogiri does the introductions.

Kemuri slips away under his approving eye and finds her way underground.

.

"Report."

"Shigaraki did as well as expected."

Something heavy fills the air and it feels like a slow death. Kemuri stands under his regard and blinks slowly. His approval is palpable as he leans back against his chair.

"Good," he says. "Keep watching."

Her eyes rise enough to watch the shadow stationed at his side and deep green eyes pin her down. She offers a shallow bow and receives a barely tilted head in response.

Progress.

"I will," she promises and leaves him behind.

For now.

.

Kemuri is working when she sees it.

The television in the central square is large and there's a crowd clustered beneath it, looking up with awed shouts and cheering. Red fills her vision and the crackle of flames is loud, loud like a whip crack, like a lightning bolt, like anything sharp and hurting. Painful enough to take her breath away.

Shouto's face on the screen is exhausted and exhilarated and if Kemuri weren't watching hard enough to burn his face into her mind she wouldn't have noticed the dampness of his eyes. But she was. And she did.

Her thoughts are numb, a wave of he's stronger like this, safer like this and stop stop please stop. There's a disconnect between her heart and her mind and she feels stretched to snapping, full of white noise and nothingness. The taste of blood is heavy in mouth, she can feel the coming strike, the ghost of her father's hand snapping across her face, heat and pain, red and red and red and

It's Dabi that pulls her aside, into an alley. Kemuri curls into him without thinking, shuddering through her body's panicked hot-cold-hot-cold-hot.

Dabi starts up a drumbeat, taps his fingers against her spine and breathes exaggeratedly slow. His chest rises and falls and Kemuri struggles to match him. It takes time. Dabi holds and waits, watches as the UA proctors stop his brother from beating his opponent within an inch of his life (Kid doesn't look like he has centimeters of life to spare, much less inches and Dabi feels a short sting of pity, quick and fleeting. Shigaraki has a shark's focus on this kid and he can already see the blood in the water.)

The steady beat of his tapping doesn't stop until Kemuri sags against him, forehead knocking against his collarbone.

Dabi's other hand comes up to play with her hair, cropped short enough that someone would be hard pressed to see the red of it as dark as it was. Kemuri exhales, inhales, thinks of baby Shouto and his shock of red hair. Of his smile and his kindess and his determination to be a hero. Something smooths out in her then, as much as it can.

Kemuri looks wringed out and tired so Dabi makes a remark about her height and pulls lightly on her hair, as is his duty. Of course, then she's obligated to point out that she's still growing and he's not and if it devolves into sniping that turns to the banked heat of two fire quirks struggling to contain themselves, well.

Nobody has to know.

.

Todoroki Shouto visits his mother.

He brings bluebells and doesn't say he spent a good long time staring blankly at the assortment of flowers and plants and weirdly dancing bonsai tree before picking the first bouquet with colors that looked safe and beating a hasty retreat.

His mother likes the flowers.

She has them placed on her bedside table, next to her reading glasses and the earmarked book next to them. He doesn't say anything about the flower shop because it looks like she knows anyway, her smile hidden away in the corners of her eyes and the sideways twitching of her mouth.

They talk about easy things, like the weather and how well Shouto's regulating his temperatures. He lets her voice wash over him like soft rain, like a welcome home that doesn't need to be said because he can hear it echoing anyway.

"- and how is everyone," his mother says and Shouto freezes. So does she. They sit in silence for a good few moments because Shouto has no idea what to say.

"Fuyumi is doing well," he offers.

His mother nods gently.

"I'm glad," she says and doesn't press him for more. She waits for him to gather his words, gather his thoughts and try to pull them together into a patchwork something.

It turns into a good patchwork something because when he's finished talking his mother smiles and pats his hand.

"Try not to worry your sister too much," she says and doesn't specify which one. She doesn't have to and Shouta ducks his head to hide a smile and leaves with a warmth settling into his heart, solid and grounding.

He can do that.

.


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