I've edited the ending of last chapter, because I realized it could be ambiguous. Fuyumi was supposed to have a realization about Dabi being D., not Dabi being Touya. Sorry if you had liked it the other way, but I've had something else planned for Fuyumi.

VII

Unlike yesterday, when several of Shouto's classmates had talked about Kirishima, Asui, and Uraraka's names being in the news, the few minutes before homeroom this morning were quiet.

Midoriya wasn't talking excitedly about the quirk combos possible within the newly formed hero teams. Bakugo wasn't complaining about being just as good as those three, or how he 'knew he should've went with a different agency'.

No, today there was only the normal murmur of conversation. Along with Bakugo intimidating some reluctant classmates into looking at an article on his phone.

The capture of the shoplifter that Shoto had helped with last night hadn't made it into the news.

Shouto didn't really mind, however. He'd had enough hero-related attention to last a lifetime. He might prefer being in the background.

Spinner was spending the evening playing a videogame at the hideout.

Or at least, he had been playing a game, and ignoring the argument starting to take place, until he lost his last life and got a game over.

He looked up, and tensed on seeing Toga's malicious grin and Dabi's glare—though thankfully neither one were pointed in his direction. Toga was sitting on the other end of the couch, her legs crossed beneath her on the cushions and her phone in her lap. Dabi was standing, and doing that scary 'I'm pretending to be calm but am actually one second from torching you' thing.

Spinner's eyes bounced between the two of them as they traded words like one of those little birdie things in a badminton match. Maybe if he was still enough, he could blend in with the couch and neither would notice he was there.

Dabi had actually been a little nicer to all of them lately; even Toga, despite her teasing him. But today her words seemed more cutting than usual.

He thought it was likely because of the boss claiming Dabi'd been the one to eat all the cookies yesterday.

Spinner's eyes darted to Toga.

"What are you even mad about?"—the sharpness of her voice and eyes belied the innocent wording—"All I did was greet you when you came in."

Spinner looked to Dabi.

Dabi's eyes narrowed. "You know what you're doing. You better stop using that name."

Spinner looked back at Toga.

Toga put a finger to her chin. "What name? Oh, you mean 'Touya'? But I call all my friends by their first names."—Dabi interrupted that it wasn't his name—"And you are a friend, aren't you? Unless you'd rather I call you Todoroki."

Spinner's eyes darted back to Dabi.

"You little crazy," Dabi hissed. "You know this is part of the boss's plan. Unlike what you're doing." He made a sharp gesture toward the phone in her lap.

Toga jerked her phone away to protect it. "I'm talking to my boyfriend! It's completely different!"

Spinner looked to Dabi.

"Yeah, right. I know exactly who—" Dabi's phone started to ring. His expression changed just before he turned away from Toga and walked down the hallway to one of the back rooms.

Just as Dabi opened the door, Toga called out, "Is that little Shouto?"

Spinner glanced at Toga to see her grinning again, then looked back to Dabi.

Dabi sent a frigid glare over his shoulder before entering the room and shutting the door.

Spinner stared at the closed door for a few seconds.

He wondered aloud, "What if he really is a Todoroki?"

Toga started cackling.

Spinner sunk deeper into the back of the couch, wishing he hadn't said anything. So much for the possibility of being the camouflaging type of gecko.

"Shouto?" Dabi said with a sigh as he sat down and leaned his head back against the wall. Despite this meaning more ammunition for Toga, he was glad for the reprieve.

He didn't know what was going on with her. She'd been snappy with him all day long and it was getting on his nerves.

The line was silent for a moment before the kid said, instead of his usual greeting, "Is everything okay?"

What kind of question was that? "Yeah," Dabi said. Then added, in case Shouto really had picked up on his mood, "Besides Toga being extra irritating today."

"Oh. ...Did you eat the cookies with the red drizzle?"

Dabi was confused for a long moment, before remembering yesterday's conversation. He snorted. "Of course not. I taste enough of my own blood as it is. Besides, she can't be upset with me for just eating two cookies. I don't know who ended up with the blood-spattered ones, but I'm pretty sure each member of the League had at least a handful of cookies yesterday. Though I'm pretty sure Shigaraki ate the most."

"He does have the most hands," Shouto commented.

Dabi smirked. "Yeah."

He shifted into a more comfortable position, then asked, "So, were you at your work-study again today?"

"Yes. It's actually what I wanted to tell you about."

Dabi figured.

"It was a slow evening, so Backdraft worked with me on my quirk."

"Oh?" Dabi said. It might've not been very noticeable to someone else, but Dabi could hear the excitement in Shouto's voice.

"Remember when you told me to try concentrating my flames by throwing them like an American football?"

"Yes..."

"Backdraft suggested trying to manipulate my flames without throwing them."

"Without...?" Dabi mumbled, furrowing his eyebrows. What good would that...? His eyes widened as he imagined what that would look like. "Tell me," he ordered, not being able to keep the excitement from his own voice now.

He'd seen Backdraft on the news before, seen how he could shape his element so easily. The rescue specialist could do anything from erecting a full-on barrier, to snaking an arm around several obstacles to pluck some idiot out of danger. Dabi had thought it was just a special property of water—the fluidness and maneuverability, the ability to solidify it. But Shouto was implying fire could be molded that way as well.

Dabi had always thought of fire as being too wild to truly control. Like any fire, his flames seemed to have a will of their own. He'd never thought beyond making sure they didn't spread too far. Little tricks to help direct the fire's path. His tricks were nothing like the ability to shape fire the way Backdraft could shape water.

"Well... I've barely been able to do anything yet; I don't know how much control is possible. But Backdraft seemed to think there was potential when I told him about your technique. So far, I've been working on trying to spin my fire while keeping it in the palm of my hand."

"Has it worked?" Dabi asked.

"I think so... to an extent," Shouto said. "It's slow progress—for both my sides. The two elements take completely different methods, and neither one matches what Backdraft said about controlling water. The fire takes a lot of concentration to move the way I want it to."

"I want to try it."

Dabi realized he'd probably cut Shouto off, but he really wanted to experiment with his fire now. The more he heard about it, the more he itched to do something.

"Does practicing with your quirk hurt you?" Shouto asked, sounding concerned.

"Not as long as I can keep it to my hands, I inherited my father's heat-resistance there," he said distractedly. "I'm going to work on it; talk to you later." Dabi hung up before Shouto could respond.

Toga barely got two words out as Dabi walked through the front room and out the door.

He strode impatiently through the dim streets, without any real destination in mind.

Maybe Dabi would be good at it—he knew his mom had had pretty good control over her quirk. Now that he thought about it, her quirk might've involved a little telekinesis, since she could control her gel-like liquid without direct touch. Unlike his dad, who'd only been able to heat whatever his hand was in contact with.

Lucky him, inheriting a mixed quirk that wouldn't stay where it was supposed to.

Deciding on an area plenty far from the apartment in case he were discovered, and sheltered enough where passersby wouldn't notice the glow of his flames, Dabi carefully lit a small blue fire in one palm.

As always, it behaved like normal flames; the edges reaching upward, catching and flickering occasionally. As long as he kept it small enough, it wouldn't get out of hand. And he had his special jacket on, which also helped regulate his flames.

Now... to spin it like his technique...

He tried, really, his fingers twitching a little as he tried to push but not push it outward. Maybe if he...

It was easier to spin his flames when combined with the momentum of an attack. Rather than being like throwing an American football... it was like trying to balance one of those stupidly-shaped balls on the tip of a finger.

His fingers twitched again as he tried to coax the flames clockwise.

How did Shouto do it?

It should be the same as his spin technique, but without actually moving.

He dissipated the little fire, opting instead to shoot a small, spinning thread toward the nearby brick wall, paying close attention to the feeling of twisting the flames. His spin method had long become instinctive. He had to work to piece together the exact way he did it.

Bringing a little flame back to his hand, he frowned in concentration as he tried mimicking the earlier feeling. He slowly twisted the energy the same way, but in the stumbling, unwieldy way of relearning a familiar skill in a different manner.

There. The flames flickered a little toward the left.

He poked at it again, going back through the steps needed.

Yes, there it was again. It twirled a little in place. The muscles in his hand were already tiring from the strain, and he really should practice with his other hand as well or he would grow a preference; but for now, he was just content to grin at the little flame, ignoring the pull of his staples.

Shouto was right—it was possible.

A shadow shifted in front of him, and he slowly dragged his eyes away from the glowing flame in his hand, still thinking about the achievement and future possibilities.

The shadow coalesced into a person shape, with the light from his flame illuminating a pile of lighter-colored fabric around its neck.

"That kid," Eraserhead commented, "he's really influenced you, hasn't he?"

Dabi only realized he was still smiling when he started to reply. He quickly dropped the expression into his practiced indifference. "I don't know what you're talking about."

Eraserhead nodded toward Dabi's hand. "Todoroki's been doing that exact thing for the past hour or two."

Dabi gave him a suspicious look, because how would he know that.

"He was on the front lawn of his dorm building. Flames are pretty noticeable in the dark." Then a manic grin spread across Eraserhead's face. "Little known fact: even the tiniest flame can be seen from over two and a half kilometers away."

But Dabi had purposefully picked a closed-in area for that reason!

Dabi's gaze trailed upward, to see the wide-open view of the night sky. Well, at least he'd thought to put some distance between himself and the apartment. He'd make sure Eraserhead didn't follow him back there.

Author's Note:

...I had thought about throwing in a scene with Shouto and Backdraft at the end, but I wasn't feeling like it'd fit right. So maybe I'll write an action scene for them later. By the way, I'd thought of most of the stuff in this chapter late one night, before I was finished with chapter 6. By the time I got to writing it out a few days later, I may have forgotten a little of what I'd wanted to say (like, regarding that last conversation). I added the little scene at the top last, because I thought the chapter needed something else (especially since I'd decided against having an action scene with Shouto at the end).

Shouto's referencing the scene at the end of episode 68, "Let's Go, Gutsy Red Riot", but Midoriya doesn't have as much on his mind, so he was more involved in the conversation than he was originally, and Bakugo has a work-study because the exam was different this time around, so he got his provisional license like Shouto—but he still wasn't in the news when the others were. He's found an article that mentions him, very briefly, now, though. The others aren't impressed.

I'm thinking of Fuyumi reappearing during the weekend. If I say that Shouto's first day was Tuesday, then that'd make this Wednesday. It's either that, or Shouto's interview was Tuesday and his first day was Wednesday, making this Thursday. (The anime only says "a few days" and "for a while" when it comes to timing for some of these events.) Either way, I'm thinking of saying a few more things before Fuyumi's scene.

Dabi's mom has brown hair and strangely-glowing solid blue eyes. I'm thinking of naming her Akiko (Aki meaning bright/luminous). The name of her quirk is Soothing Gel. She can produce a luminous blue liquid, which she can control. It's almost like a lava lamp. (By the way, while writing this chapter, I realized her quirk is kinda like Ashido's acid, only it's not acidic and it's more... bubble-like...)

Dabi's dad has black hair like Dabi, and his quirk's called Superheat. He's able to instantly heat up anything he touches. It's useful for heating food and drinks, and he often uses his palm as a stove burner. (At first I wasn't sure what fire-type quirk I could give him that wasn't 'breathing fire' or 'fire', but then I realized temperature changes could work, too. His quirk might be a little like Kendo's Big Fist quirk, in that it's only related to his hands.)

Dabi's quirk is a combination kind of quirk, taking the glowing blue color from his mom's quirk, and the extreme heat from his dad's quirk, creating his blue fire. So, in this fic's universe, it doesn't matter how hot his flames are, they'll always be blue (though it's possible they'll look slightly different depending on the temperature). Also, he inherited heat resistance from his dad. But... his dad only had heat resistance in his hands because of it being a hand-based quirk. His mom needed no heat resistance for her quirk.

I'll try getting the next chapter up next Tuesday or Wednesday, but it might not be until the week after. Depends on how fast I can write it, and how much real-life stuff happens. :)