A/N: I just need some comedy in my life right now. So I wrote this.

"It's just- not fair, Big Sis!"

Ah, shit. What had he walked in on this time? Dabi froze mid-step, shuffling backwards through the open doorway, praying he hadn't been spotted. How come the living room couch was always occupied when it was prime napping hour? Life was cruel and he was its punching bag. In the midst of his impressively swift retreat, a second voice piped up, giving him pause. He stood there a moment against his better judgment, leaning in toward the ajar crack. Y'know, like a masochistic dumbass. Now that the blood drumming in his ears had calmed, he was able to make out exactly which sucker it was that accompanied their youngest member.

Magne. Of course. She was all for these kind of touchy-feely discussions. Why was he still here? Dabi grunted, fully intending to step away before the situation escalated to actually being included in the conversation. But something in the way the older woman rubbed consoling circles on the back of Toga's cardigan made his chest squeeze somewhat painfully.

Another time, another place, another young girl… He shook his head, urging those complicated feelings back down into the abyss where they belonged. It wouldn't do to get lost in thought anywhere near Toga. That girl smelt weakness like a shark sought blood in the water. Er, well, she smelt blood the same way, so maybe his comparison fell short. Maybe Toga was just a bloodthirsty predator confined to a cute human form. His musings were interrupted by Magne's soothing tone.

"I know, Toga, boy trouble is the worst!" She sighed wistfully. "But nobody ever said love was easy."

Great. There were a number of things Dabi had conjured up in his imagination when nights stretched long and lonely and his thoughts refused to settle. Things he'd rather never witness in his lifetime, that is. There really wasn't much left that could rattle him nowadays (thoughts pertaining to Him and The Others were kept locked in a box labeled strictly "off limits"), but Accidentally-Walking-In-On-A-Hormonal-Teenager-Discussing-Their-Love-Life (or lack thereof) was right up there with Shigaraki-Giving-A-Handjob. Oh yeah, he was waaay out of his comfort zone. Unfortunately, before he could slip away definitively and patter quietly down the hall, pretending this awkward privacy invasion never happened, there was a knife in his sleeve, pinning him to the wall. Dabi frowned, praying for strength as he turned to meet Toga's quizzical gaze and Magne's snicker of amusement.

"Kurogiri just refurbished this room, Toga. I'm not gonna be the one to tell him you impaled his new floral wallpaper."

"What do you think I should do, Dabi?" The girl ignored him (goddamnit), huffing to herself as she turned and offered her full attention. Magne looked as if she were about to burst out laughing.

"Since when is Dabi our resident love expert?" The older woman grinned, clearly enjoying her comrade's obvious torment.

"I'm not." Dabi said flatly, yanking the blade from the wall (man, and he'd just stitched up this jacket too...) and tossing it back to Toga with nonchalance.

"Aww, c'mon Dabi! You've gotta have some experience in the field." Her yellow stare pierced through him expectantly, as if picking him apart with her eyes alone. Dabi felt an uncomfortable sweat gather on his brow. This was exactly the kind of conversation he'd been trying to avoid. Even before his days of villainy, offering relationship advice had never been his strong suit (of that, Fuyu—Other People could attest), and he was quite certain that ten years of living alone on the streets had done nothing to brush up his skills. The flame user cursed his luck again, at getting stuck with the most persistent little shits imaginable.

"What, you think I'm drowning in admirers with my ugly mug?" He settled on shooting her a stare of the utterly unimpressed variety.

"Aw, Dabi there's someone out there for everyone. I'm sure there are people who think you're pretty!" Toga cooed.

"—or they at least have a morbid fascination with fucking the walking dead." Came Magne's interjection.

"I am not a corpse, Magne."

"Pfft, could've fooled me. You might as well be with all that dead skin, terrible stitch-job, and lack of personality."

"Yeah Dabi, maybe there's someone who's into that! If you want, we can go browse the necrophile forums—"

"Fuck off Toga, my pulse would be a total turn off."

The teenager's eyes twinkled mischievously as she twirled her knife. "I could fix that!"

"Heh, you wouldn't be the first to offer." Dabi leaned against the doorway, eyeing her blade in an unconcerned manner. He shifted his footing as Magne propped herself up on her forearms, turning to him with a teasing air.

"Back to the matter at hand, do you have any sagely wisdom to impart on our dear little Juliet? She'd just love to have a certain green-haired stud in her back pocket." Ugh, Shakespeare references. Magne had been spending too much time with Compress.

"I hope you're not referring to UA's golden boy, cuz you know any mention of that kid gives Shigaraki an IBS flare-up."

"Well then it's a good thing he gets his best ideas on the can."

Toga rolled her eyes at their dry banter. "That's not true! Shigaraki loves hearing about Deku-kun!" Behind her, Magne snorted. "Yeah, about as much as he loves to lose at Mario Kart."

Dabi sat back, filtering out their bickering. He felt his brain throb against his skull in the beginnings of a migraine. It wasn't that he hated socializing with his teammates, but one could only handle so much of them at one time. Especially when it concerned Toga. She was best in small doses, usually between the hours of 5 and 8 pm.

"Why are you so hung up on that bone-breaking pipsqueak anyway? You've seen plenty of dudes soaked in their own blood, you kinky little gremlin." And oh no, why did he say that? Now she was looking at him again—

"Yeah, but nobody wears bruises quite like him! He just looks so yummy and handsome, all bloodied and battered! Like sirloin extra rare! I just wanna get a taste~"

Y'know he should've expected a response like that. Toga could be notoriously one-track minded.

"… Forget I asked. It's not like he's the pinnacle of pretty boys or anything—"

"Well I don't care about anything like that! He looks good to me and that's enough." In any other context, a comment like that could almost be interpreted as sweet.

"Don't mind him, Himiko, it's not like he could find anyone better for you. Dabi knows as much about the ways of the human heart as a fish knows about flying."

Ah, now that. That stung. It pissed him off because it was true, but he didn't need them knowing it was true. It's not like he'd had the best examples of what healthy relationships looked like growing up.

"Oh, says you. I bet I could find a guy way more suited to her tastes than All Might's fucking protégé. Hell, I could set you up with anybody," he directed his attention to Himiko, "from rich kid, to bad boy, fuck, even a sugar daddy if you wanted, take your pick." What the fuck. What the fuck was he doing? The corner of his eye twitched painfully, tugging at one of his stitches as his mouth went off to the races. Toga's smile seemed to stretch wider and wider the longer his spoke and ugh, he just kept on digging didn't he?

"That's really nice of you to offer Dabi! I didn't know you had so many sexy singles in your contacts." The little demon had the gall to laugh at him from behind her hand.

"You think I don't?! Well, just watch Toga, I'm gonna score you the best fucking date of your life." Then maybe she'd shut up and quit whining about not having some boy toy to flaunt around base. Maybe he would finally get some peace and quiet (probably not, but it didn't hurt to have ambitions). "Just don't say I never did anything for you."

Okay. Yeah. This was a huge mistake. Dabi groaned to himself, tossing his third burner phone across the room forlornly. Not a single person in his contacts who would make an ideal match. Either they wouldn't be able to handle Toga's specific brand of crazy or just didn't fit her requirements (or those unspoken requirements he had tacked on, because despite what he'd said earlier, there was no way in hell he was setting Toga up with some forty-year-old creep). There was also no way he was calling Giran for advice on this (or God forbid the other League members—Magne and Toga knowing about this particular "mission" was bad enough), so he was quickly running out of ideas. It wasn't like he could just stroll into popular teen hangouts and start scouting like when he was looking for potential recruits (Shigaraki had already gotten an earful for his little stint at the mall that one time. Any one of them could be called the poster child for stranger-danger).

… How old was Toga anyway? He'd never asked, or reviewed the files Giran kept. She wouldn't want that anyway. None of them liked acknowledging their skeletons in the closet. He knew she was young, younger than him at least, and probably Shigaraki since she was always running around in that uniform, but it could also be a fashion statement right? No, he was almost certain she was under the age of eighteen. Heck, she was probably right around the age of—

Oh. Oh. Now that was a completely shitty idea—

But what if.

Shouto kicked his shoes off unceremoniously and shuffled into the foyer of the Todoroki family abode. He could smell Fuyumi's cooking wafting down the hallway, making his stomach rumble in anticipation. Entering the kitchen, he met the sight of his older sister prepping a meal of tenzaru soba. She always liked to try and make his favorites when she knew he'd be home. It'd been a month or so since his last visit. In all honesty, he tried to avoid the place as much as possible, but knew it made her anxious to go too long without catching up. So he was here. For her sake. As Shouto contemplated his greeting, Fuyumi turned and caught his eye with a look of surprise. "Ah—Shouto! You're home earlier than I expected." She pushed the cutting board to the side and wiped her hands on her apron. The young woman then offered a shaky smile, as if unsure how to proceed.

"Yes. I told Aizawa I'd be visiting this weekend and planned to leave right after classes ended. Sorry if I interrupted your alone-time."

"No, no! I'm happy to see you. I just thought maybe you'd…" Spend a little time with your friends first went unsaid. "… Well, no matter. I'm afraid Dad is working overtime on a case and Natsu… couldn't make it, so it's just us tonight."

"That's fine. Want me to help cut the vegetables?" He motioned to the mostly-sliced green onion that sat forgotten atop the cutting board.

"Oh, that'd be great. Thank you."

Time passed in a nearly comfortable silence as the two siblings worked, but Shouto could tell from the way her fingers fumbled while grating the daikon that there was something else on his sister's mind. He let the tension simmer between them a little longer, in case she brought it up willingly, before pushing his work away and setting down the knife.

"Is something the matter, Fuyumi? His voice startled her a little, as she suddenly jumped, knocking over a cup of mentsuyu. "Oh—" In a quick movement, Shouto shot a slight blast of ice out to catch the falling dipping sauce. He retrieved it carefully and set it back on the counter. Fuyumi gave him a grateful smile.

"No, nothing's wrong or anything. It's just… something came in the mail for you today."

Shouto tilted his head, unsure as to why that would be a problem. Being the son of the number one hero meant he often got strange letters addressed to him from "fans" or the likes. It wasn't always welcomed, but he'd grown used to it. However, the way Fuyumi twiddled her thumbs nervously suggested there was something a bit off about whatever had arrived for him.

"Oh? What is it?" Fuyumi suddenly looked embarrassed.

"It was um, a letter, and before you say anything, I read it and I'm sorry. It's just that there was no return address and the paper looked a little… worn. Strange, I suppose. So I felt I should take the precaution to look it over. I know those kinds of things are private, so I apologize." Fuyumi stuttered out an awkward explanation, searching her brother's face for any sign of change. She found none as he continued to gaze impassively. Finally, as the pause between her apology and his expected response stretched a little too long, Shouto blinked. "Is that all? That's okay Fuyumi, I don't mind. You know people send letters sometimes."

"Yes, I know. But, well, maybe it'd be best if you read it for yourself." She exited the room, disappearing down the hallway for a moment before returning with the aforementioned letter in hand. Shouto took it gently, noticing the material was course and charred in the corners. The paper itself looked to be a scrap torn from the back of a fashion magazine. No wonder his sister had been suspicious… but the most disconcerting part was the various letters, meticulously cut (probably from the same magazine) and pasted to the paper in the formation of words. It definitely created some eerie vibes.

'Hey cutie~

I saw you at the UA Sports Festival earlier this year and thought you were so cool~! 3 I was thinking maybe we could hang out sometime and go to the park or the beach maybe. We could hold hands and go out for lunch. I know a place with really good cold soba! If you're interested, meet me at Dagobah Municipal Beach Park at 1:00 pm on Sunday!

XOXO Your Secret Admirer~'

As his eyes reached the end of the message, Shouto felt his brows furrowing. While he had received notes of this kind in the past, none had ever been quite so odd in presentation. It almost felt like some cheap imitation of how adolescent love confessions were supposed to go. The absence of sender information only served as the cherry on top to the bizarre situation. Fuyumi observed him, frowning the longer his eyes scanned the page.

"Do you have any idea who sent it, Shouto?" She looked at him hopefully, as if he would just laugh it off and say it was a friend pulling some prank and her worries were unfounded.

"No," he started honestly, "in fact it makes me kind of uneasy." The sudden disheartened expression that came upon Fuyumi's face made him backpedal.

"But I'm sure it isn't anything to worry about. It's probably just a creepy fan. The house security is top notch, so I doubt any amateur would be able to trespass here, Fuyumi."

"Still… whoever it was sent it directly to our personal residence—"

"Endeavor's address is in the public registry, they could've easily just looked it up."

"I know, but usually fanmail gets sent to—his agency, or if it's to you, then UA—not the house. And not looking like a standard serial killer note!" She was getting herself worked up, he could tell. Shouto suddenly felt a tad guilty. He didn't like seeing his sister fuss over him.

"Nobody would be stupid enough to send threatening messages to the number one pro's own home. I'm sure it's fine." To prove that it was of no big importance, he set the letter down on the lazy-Susan. "Let's eat."

The boy returned to the kitchen, distributing their dinners onto the designated trays. Fuyumi followed after a moment's hesitation, sparing a final glance at the discarded parchment.

That night, Shouto considered what the best course of action would be. Naturally, if he was harboring suspicions, he should alert the pros. His teachers maybe, or even his father. With all that had been going on lately, they would be sure to take it seriously. But what if it really wasn't anything to be alarmed over? Some teenagers really were that awkward. He would know. Shouto didn't want to accuse some innocent weirdo of being a villain just because they were lacking in charm or subtlety.

'… I could go see for myself. I'll keep my phone location on and ready if I need backup.' He could picture Iida's scolding tone echoing in his brain, warning how dangerous of an idea it was. But a little voice in his ear urged him to go. Perhaps he would uncover some greater conspiracy… it wouldn't do to worry anyone so soon. Not until he knew what he was dealing with.

When Sunday morning arrived, Shouto met Fuyumi downstairs where she nursed a mug of black coffee in her bathrobe. As he prepared his buttered toast he felt her eyes on the back of his head. The weight was strange, but not uncommon.

"You're not going to go today are you?" She stared pointedly. Shouto took a bite of his toast, mulling over his reply. It didn't seem to encourage her.

"Shouto! You said yesterday you don't know who sent it and it reads like some crazy fan wrote it. Why would you go? Are you looking for trouble?" The young woman ran a stressed hand through her white locks.

"No, I'm just curious. I really don't think it's anything super dangerous." He lied easily, wiping the crumbs from his bottom lip. Fuyumi only sighed in exasperation.

"… okay, but I'm letting Dad know where you're at then. He only got home a few hours ago, so he's upstairs asleep, but if something goes wrong I'll make sure he's awake to come get you." That was the first shred of irritation he felt. "I don't need him to play babysitter for me, Fuyumi." The teen grabbed a light jacket and a half-read novel, figuring he could head down to the beach early. Anything to escape his sister's disapproving frown.

The beach was empty when he arrived at a quarter past 10:00 am. The tide lapped eagerly at the shore and clouds hung overcast in the sky. It was too dreary a day for any sensible young couples to head out gallivanting. Most would just stay home, huddled on the couch watching Netflix. With this unappealing weather forecast in mind, Shouto hunkered down on the sand to read with half-attention. As the hours passed and the sun crept higher in the sky, a few rays came streaming down, casting light on the pages. Shouto squinted, turning his head to check his phone for the time.

'12:52.' Eight minutes then until his "mystery beau" was meant to show up. With his guard on high alert, Shouto didn't miss the crunch of footsteps in the sand a few moments later. He rose swiftly to his feet, willing the ice on the tips of his fingers to remain unnoticeable. A quick sweep of the surrounding beach brought nothing unusual to his attention. That was however, until the form of a young girl stepped out from beneath the overhead dock. He froze in defense as she stepped closer, immediately recognizing her as one of the villains from the attack on their summer camp. And thus affiliated with the League of Villains. She didn't seem perturbed by his display of distrust, continuing to move further into his general radius. Now that she was out in the open, he could see her more clearly. She was wearing a light yellow off-the-shoulder sweater with dark denim booty-shorts and striped leggings. A far cry from the usual school uniform she was known for. It was perplexing to say the least.

Shouto raised his right arm in a warning when she took a step too close and suddenly her eyes widened as she sidestepped to the left. The hair on his arm pricked up as she seemed to do an about-face into his blind spot. The boy whirled around, sending a stream of icicles in her direction, which she quickly deflected by producing blades seemingly out of nowhere. The girl was looking at him now with something akin to disappointment. Yet another abnormality, as she was usually known to hold a cheery disposition. What exactly had he done to earn her ire? He didn't have time to ponder as she lunged for him. Shouto swept his left arm out, feeling familiar flames lick at his skin as he sent a ball of fire hurtling towards her. The villain maintained her speed, back-flipping over the affronting blaze with little more than a grunt. She landed in front of him and pouted.

"Todoroki-kun~! This is no way to treat your date!" She batted her lashes and moved to grab the offending arm. He made sure to raise its temperature significantly and internally smirked when she hopped back with a yelp.

"What do you want with me? The nearest pros could be here in mere minutes, you know. I don't have anything to offer your league either." He stated bluntly as Toga took another crack at latching on. She seemed to growl at him in slight frustration before working her features back into an easy smile.

"This isn't work-related, silly! I thought we could enjoy a personal outing together!" Shouto found his eyes narrowing, unconvinced by her claim of no nefarious doings.

"Why?"

"Why? Well, because you're... cute... and cool..." She spat through gritted canines. Yeah, like that was any more compelling an answer?

"So you're the one who sent that obnoxious letter?" Toga seemed to take a split moment to side-eye a spot over Todoroki's shoulder, but it was too quick to ascertain.

"Yup. That was totally me." She kept a white-knuckled grip on the handle of her blade while Shouto regarded her coolly.

"Well it was creepy. I wouldn't recommend sending stuff like that to crushes again." Toga hesitated to take in his response, searching his face for any sort of micro-expression of fear. He instead seemed entirely bored with her, and perhaps even annoyed. It was so aggravating! With a discontented sigh, the girl flopped back down in the sand, dropping her knife dejectedly.

"Never mind! I can't do this! You're not fun at all. You don't even want to put up a nice, bloody struggle. All you wanna do is fight and be done huh? Lame. There's hardly anything pretty about you at all! You'd be as un-marred as marble if it weren't for that scar, and I doubt you'd let me reopen it." Her rant only caused Shouto more confusion. He carefully lowered his flames, eyeing her as if she were a ticking time bomb. Though her words were less than flattering, Shouto was unsure if he should be offended or not.

"I don't know why I agreed to this. Stupid Dabi thought I'd have a good time, but Magne was right—he doesn't know anything! I don't even like you like that! I just wanted a cute boyfriend..." She hugged her knees and stared longingly out toward the sea. Shouto pursed his lips.

"I don't know why your fellow villains would think I'm a good match for you." Really? A hero-in-training and the son of the top pro to boot? It was a disaster waiting to happen. Toga seemed to agree, as she snorted.

"Yeah, you're nowhere near Deku-kun's level."

Now that got his attention. "Midoriya?" His eyes narrowed. "What about him?"

"He's perfect! So intense when someone he loves is in danger and just gorgeous when he bleeds. I would love to drink him dry." Shouto wasn't sure he should dignify that with a response.

"But he's also so passionate! You can tell he really cares about all this hero-business and believes he can help this dumb world. What I wouldn't give to walk around in his skin..."

"Midoriya's not perfect. But you're right that he really cares. Sometimes to an unhealthy degree..." Shouto thought of that fierceness in the other boy's eyes, of those fateful words reverberating through the air of the arena. 'It's your quirk, not his!' Yes, Midoriya had proved time and time again that he would go to extremes to save someone, even if it were detrimental to himself. He had certainly shown Shouto.

"Even if you had his face, you could never replicate his noble heart." The boy found himself playing with the sand absentmindedly, eyes fond and distant. Toga stared at him as if some puzzle piece had just clicked into place.

"Ohhhh, I see." She grinned and Shouto caught the sun as it glanced off one of her fangs. "You like him too, don't you?"

His mind crashed to an abrupt halt. Did he? Like Midoriya? Thinking back on that pleasant warmness that had erupted in him that day, those inspiring words, the complete ardor directed back at him in eye and in action... in that moment he had felt whole again. A blush dusted his cheeks, and though he was sure Toga noticed, she made no comment.

"Midoriya inspires me every day. To be both a better hero and a better person. I couldn't ask for more in a friend."

"He's not just a friend to you though, is he? I getcha! He's inspiring me every day too! And one day he'll be mine… But I appreciate a challenge, so good luck to you too, Todoroki-kun." She stuck out a hand cheekily.

What? Was she seriously thinking they were in some sort of love rivalry now? He shook his head in exasperation, but reached out to take her hand. Her nails dug into his skin.

"Well, I'd better be going before you make good on your promise to alert the authorities! Enjoy the rest of your weekend, Todoroki-kun!" He found himself rising to his feet, a wordless 'wait' on his tongue before she darted forward, faster than he would've expected. Toga planted a tiny kiss on his cheek, and was off, disappearing behind the dunes. He raced after her in hot pursuit, yet by the time he made it to her escape point, the villainess was gone. Shouto sighed. What was he doing baring his heart to a criminal? Especially one as mentally unstable as her... he kicked off his sandals, returning to retrieve his book. It wasn't like he'd get much more free time to finish it.

"Toga, what the hell was that? I offered you that kid on a silver platter and you ditch him when things finally start calming down?" Dabi pinched the bridge of his nose tiredly. Yeah, he knew it was a dumb plan. But it was the best he could come up with at the time, and honestly? If there was any chance (he knew there wasn't, but still) of convincing the duel-quirk Todoroki child of coming to the villain-side, why shouldn't they take it? Toga gets a boyfriend, the league gets a strong fighter. Win-win for everyone. But he'd known it wouldn't work. Shouto had never been the type to be swayed by feminine wiles. The boy was kind of dense anyway. And yet… he'd dared to hope for a moment. A truly horrible decision, really. Toga's eyes crinkled in delight, a soft, traitorous smile forming.

"Don't lie to yourself Dabi, we all knew that he's as 'strait-laced hero' as they come," her fingers brushed his arm in what could almost be described as a comforting gesture, "but I don't think you were really serious about him joining us. He doesn't like me and I don't like him, and you don't need to be a love expert to see that."

Dabi stiffened. "Well, you never know—"

"I know you have some ulterior motives for wanting to see that boy again," she smirked. "But don't worry, I won't tell."

Goddamnit, the little witch had him figured out, did she? When had he become so transparent?

"Well, I guess you had a pretty shitty time then, huh?" He shoved his hands in his pockets, eyeing her with reticence.

"Oh, it wasn't all bad! Turns out we have something in common after all." She paused, a hand on the door-frame.

"Huh. Do I want to know?"

"Doubt it. But it wasn't a wasted afternoon. I'm still really happy you wanted to help me, Dabi!"

'Well, doesn't it just fill ya with butterflies to be appreciated?'

"No problem, Toga." He mumbled indifferently.

"But next time," her expression shifted to idle disgust, "let me write the letters."

A/N:

Dabi: *writes cringeworthy imitation of what he thinks love-struck teenage girls sound like*
Toga: Am I a joke to you?

Should've had Magne proofread my dude

~ With love, RosieBrie