Heroes in the Dark chapter 57
Dabi stopped calling him Bird. Now he mostly called him by name or just "kid," which Tokoyami hadn't expected to actually happen. It wasn't very often that he actually referred to people by their names, unless he had some level of respect for them. Dabi was always much quicker to assign some nickname to a person, but apparently he'd crossed some sort of line with Spinner and didn't feel like the subject was worth souring further. Though being called "kid" over "bird" set forth a different reminder: that Tokoyami was still so young and, as far as everyone else was concerned, inexperienced. But that also made Tokoyami think about the passing of time. He'd been caught in this business for a while, and already October was flying by. He wouldn't be so young and naïve forever.
Other than that, things didn't really change. There was nothing grand about getting back to the dingy hotel room after their brief meeting with the rest of the League. Dabi continued the days there-after the same as he had before, going out into the city and leaving him alone.
Tokoyami had a lot on his mind as days rolled over, thinking about what activities the League and Dabi were undergoing. Despite being united under the same cause, Dabi was persistent about striking out on his own. Meanwhile… Tokoyami quietly hoped that the League found success in the raid they were planning. He didn't want to hear the gritty details of it, but he also couldn't help but condone their actions, or at least the end result of it. He hesitated to take the matter personally, and yet he couldn't stop thinking about his conversation with Spinner. The morality of this dilemma had stuck with him in the days to follow.
But it wasn't his to debate. The League's actions happened without him, and he was just a static piece in all this. Keep healing. Keep reaching out to Dark Shadow. Keep watching the rest of the world go by without him. He was becoming restless from it all. And amongst it all, he couldn't really glean much from Dabi.
How was it so much easier to get other members of the League to talk? Though thinking back on it, Dabi had already been open about the end of the Overhaul incident… while Tokoyami had continued to keep his beak shut about what had happened there. He wondered if Dabi resented him at all for that. Would things change if he made the effort to be more open? Or would it only succeed in opening up more targets of weakness within him? As it stood, any chance to talk to the villain still felt stunted or quickly cut short. The only genuine conversation they'd exchanged was the one where Tokoyami had spilled about the state of his quirk.
He kept wondering what Dabi was up to. And he'd asked before – of course he had. But the only responses he got were disappointing.
There was one evening where Dabi had buried his head into his hands in the kitchen while waiting for the microwave to end, and Tokoyami had crept over to him uncertainly. The villain was clearly tired, but he didn't look particularly agitated. He looked somber more than anything.
Tokoyami cleared his throat to get his attention. Sharp blue eyes snapped open, glaring at him from across the counter.
"Did something happen today?" Tokoyami had asked.
As always, Dabi took his sweet time answering, looking through Tokoyami with only the hum of the microwave making noise in the background. Then his response had come, an edge of bitterness in it. "Just the same shit I do every day."
Tokoyami pushed for more than that. "Is it the recruitment you were talking about with Shigaraki? You're looking for new members to join the League, right?"
Dabi laughed disdainfully in his face. "I don't think that's any of your business. What if I told you that I spend my free time strolling through parks? Maybe I'm just going about a normal boring-ass life."
Tokoyami pondered that, taking a seat at the bar. "Well… that depends on how you go out. When you just want to blend in with the public, you wear sunglasses and the coat that covers your face. If I'm being blunt, it makes you look horribly shady, but that's the only way you can go to busier places, right? But most of the time you go out in your normal attire and come back reeking of smoke, so I can only imagine…"
Dabi's scowl caused him to stumble to a stop. "Hey, who the hell said you could analyze me like that? Stay in your lane, you little shit." And before Tokoyami could dare to push further, the microwave beeped. Dabi grabbed his food and locked himself in his room without another word, shoving away the conversation in favor of silence.
That attempt had bourn no results, only succeeding in pissing the villain off further. But Tokoyami couldn't help but persist throughout the week, hoping that he might actually communicate with him the same way he was able to with Spinner. He didn't even know any of Dabi's motives. He hadn't said anything about wanting things from the League, why he carried out these duties, or why his actions were so isolated from the rest of them. It was all a mystery. And considering just how much he'd had to be around this person ever since his involvement with the League – ever since his hand had pulled him into the warp portal during their damned raid – it was made ever more infuriating.
Then another evening had come that had left Tokoyami brimming with questions.
The sound of Dabi struggling with the outside lock had caught Tokoyami's attention, rousing him from the couch. Then he was coming through the door in a hurry, closing it as quietly as possible and locking every lock there was, including ones that Tokoyami could easily undo himself. All the while, Dabi was panting, out of breath from running.
"Dabi? What's wro—"
"Shut up and turn off those lamps!" Dabi hissed, crossing the room to get to the window. He peered out between the cracks in the boards, keeping his body off to the side. Tokoyami did as he was told, turning off all the lights, and went over to the other side of the window, trying to be discreet. He looked over at Dabi, wondering if it was heroes or other villains that had made him this paranoid. Then Tokoyami saw the splash of red staining through the shoulder of his shirt.
Tokoyami's eyes went wide in alarm. "Did someone shoot you?" He hadn't seen Dabi be injured since their first run-in with Overhaul. Although just by looking at him you could believe that he was constantly injured.
Dabi looked over at him tensely, then back out the window. He held that silence a moment longer before deciding that the coast was clear. His shoulders drooped wearily, and he let out a small hiss. "It's just a graze – don't think that you can get the one-up on me after something this small."
"I-I wasn't…" Tokoyami sighed. He looked through the cracks of the window, but nothing awaited them in the lot below. "Was it the police?" Dabi was a wanted criminal, after all. It made sense to be a target while he was out in the world causing havoc.
"In this part of town? Hell no," Dabi said, his tone scathing. He drew his threadbare duster closer around him to cover up the wound. But Tokoyami continued to stare, questions ready on his tongue. Dabi gave in, knowing he wouldn't be able to get away with brushing this off and ignoring him yet again. "I entered the wrong turf, alright? They caught me off guard and had it out for me. I don't usually run from a fight cause the last thing I need is someone tracking me back here, but if my flames can't reach them, then…" He was still watching the parking lot. An uncomfortable silence settled, and Dabi realized that Tokoyami hadn't responded. He was watching the outside, not with caution but with a longing expression. "…If something were to happen here, you'd be relocated with the League."
That pulled Tokoyami back to the matter at hand. "Because that's so much better," Tokoyami said dryly, leaving the window to withdraw into the shadows of the room. A tired sigh escaped his beak, and he watched with guarded eyes as Dabi also left the window alone.
"They make do where they can," Dabi grumbled, going into the kitchen and searching through the drawers that were brimming with miscellaneous junk. "Why the Leader thought my place would be the best to coop you up in, I don't wanna know. But it is what it is." He pulled an old roll of bandages out from a mess of thumbtacks, pens, and discarded batteries, deciding that that's what he needed. "I guess it goes without saying, but you better be keeping a low profile when I'm gone. I think we can agree that we don't want any vengeance-seekers or pissed off yakuza catching wind of this place. Get what I'm saying?"
Tokoyami nodded numbly, thinking of the implications of being in a part of town so heavily riddled with crime activity. It bothered him. This area was still a part of society where people lived. So he would've thought there'd be a better system of heroics or at least someone out there patrolling the streets. A whole section of city couldn't possibly be the playground of criminals and thugs, right? Heroes were established as a system to prevent, or at the very least curb, these sorts of things. So where were they?
"I'm gonna patch up. Keep the lights off for the rest of the night and don't mess with the locks. If you hear anything, let me know," Dabi growled, heading to his room again.
Tokoyami watched him fumbling to unlock the door. "…Why were they after you?"
Dabi paused. "Part of the job, I guess. You already know that I'm trying to find people for the League. But you wouldn't believe the amount of garbage that litters the streets. Pointless scum who think they can get away with petty crimes, who hurt without reason or conviction and think that's okay. Bastards who pick fights based on appearances. I can't stand people like that. Who needs them anyway?" he growled, a distant look in his scathing blue eyes. Tokoyami didn't normally hear Dabi's perspective on the world or society. Hearing it now, it felt as though there was years of experience behind his words.
He got the door open. He was ready to slip inside the dark of his room, away from everything else the world had to offer. But Tokoyami felt like he needed to stop him one last time.
"Dabi, wait—" He got the villain's attention, eyes narrowing at him suspiciously. "I… did you need any medical supplies?" Tokoyami asked carefully, watching the blood from his shoulder continue to seep into his shirt.
He'd been tense while going about the apartment, but now his body seemed to relax, as if he couldn't afford to be bitter with the situation anymore. Dabi looked down at him with a more lax expression, fulfilling his familiarly aloof responsibility. But Tokoyami couldn't get past how tired he looked at the same time. Dabi had claimed this was nothing, but was that really true? Or was it just part of a greater issue at hand that he didn't know about.
"You better not be trying to offer your own medical stuff to someone like me. I have my own supply – you know, burns and all that. But that's my problem, not yours. You're supposed to making sure your supply lasts. And when you run out, you tell me. Not the other way around. Got it? Don't let your injuries worsen or else the world is gonna kick you while you're down." And then he was already retreating back into the dingy depths of his room, where this world he talked of couldn't bother him. That included Tokoyami though, and the door was unceremoniously shut in his face.
That night felt particularly dark, and he stayed up late listening for sounds that might come from outside. But nothing ever really came.
X X X
Questions that Tokoyami had regarding Dabi only ever continued to surface as more time passed. It came as a part of Tokoyami's own restlessness. And, if he was being honest, his ever-growing loneliness. His job was to do nothing, and between Dabi's evasiveness and Dark Shadow's silence, it was beginning to get to him. Tokoyami had gotten too used to the constant action for something like this to be burdening him. And so his restlessness became a desire to learn more about Dabi. His options were limited and this bastard couldn't evade him forever. Not while they had to share the same space.
Tokoyami tried asking him more about what he was trying to do, his perspective, anything really. But Dabi only really stuck around long enough to use the kitchen, and once he became too agitated and would snap at Tokoyami, he would give up for the day.
And then something happened that he definitely couldn't ignore, lighting an unexpected fire under him in a way that Dabi alone couldn't do.
Tokoyami was in the kitchen when Dabi came through the door. He usually didn't come back until deep into the night, but it wasn't out of the ordinary for him to come and go a few times throughout the day. Tokoyami nodded a greeting to him, to which Dabi scoffed.
But when Dabi passed by him, something caught Tokoyami's eye. It wasn't anything big, or even particularly noticeable. But when he saw it drift down quietly from Dabi's coat, his eyes zeroed in on it, his heart beginning to race.
A red feather.
Too many thoughts to rationalize at once swept through Tokoyami's mind, but the one that stood out the most was fueled by instinct: grab it.
Dabi had his back turned, already unlocking the door to his separate room. Tokoyami took an uncertain step towards the little red tuft that had fallen onto the carpet. He couldn't look away even if he tried, with how it called to him. With quiet steps that wouldn't alert Dabi, Tokoyami bent down to pick it up. At first it moved away from him, as if the smallest of winds carried it. But there was no wind.
And then it was in Tokoyami's hands. It was real. A single red feather the size of his thumb. A covert feather, he recognized – the smallest feathers from a bird's wing. But this one was much bigger than anything that would come from a normal bird.
Tokoyami brought the feather close to him, his hands shaking. The feather resisted his touch even now, when his fingers were wrapped carefully around it, almost as though it had a mind of its own. When he brought it up to his beak, it stopped, as though to listen.
Tokoyami felt the words come to him before he could stop to quash his own hopes, the question coming as no more than the smallest of whispers for only one to hear. "…Hawks…? Are you there?"
That. That was it, right? He hadn't wanted to think about it, about the people he left behind. But the heroes were inevitable. They were trying to find him, to save him from the League. And Hawks. That was his mentor. For all of one bitter week, a work study where he could just never seem to catch up with the hero. But that was the number thr – the number two hero. He had to be out there. This was his feather.
"What'cha got there?" came a voice, sounding like a taunt to him.
Tokoyami turned to Dabi, panic brimming in his heart as he hid the feather behind him. He wanted to know why this feather had fallen off of Dabi, but he couldn't let the villain see it either. He managed to keep his expression even, meeting the villain with a cool response that he hoped didn't give away his true state of mind. "You already know what I own, and it's not much," Tokoyami said, his lies at the ready.
Dabi blinked slowly. "Don't lie to me." He crossed the room too quickly for Tokoyami to react. The villain reached out his hand, and Tokoyami's breath hitched at the threatening movement. The hand gripped his wrist, pulling his arm out from where he'd been trying to hide it behind his back.
Dabi looked at the feather in his hand as Tokoyami squirmed in his grip. For a moment, Tokoyami could swear that there was a rare flash of anger on his face, and he worried if he had done something to grievously upset him. But then it passed, and he was looking at the feather with disinterest. "'Not much,' huh?" He plucked the feather from Tokoyami's hand and let go of his wrist. Tokoyami snatched his arm to his chest like the touch had burned him, but he knew Dabi hadn't used his quirk.
Looking at Tokoyami now, Dabi could see just how transparent he was being. Tokoyami couldn't hide the visible dismay on his face at having this be taken from him. This feather was a link to the outside. It was important in a way that he didn't want Dabi to understand. It took everything within Tokoyami not to yell at him, to demand to have the feather back. But he was going to wish he had.
Dabi admired the bright red feather in his hand with a lazy expression. He didn't look surprised, but his eyes were calculating. Was this… disappointment? "Damn pigeons," he said with a sigh. The feather was quiet in his grasp, unmoving. "Don't those city birds know that if they're not careful… if they get too close to me… that they'll get burned to a crisp?"
Blue fire sprang forth from his fingertips, setting the feather alight in an instant.
Tokoyami choked back a cry. "No, wait – !" But he could only watch as the red feather crumbled in the villain's hands, quickly overwhelmed by the dancing flames. It fell apart so easily, turning to ashes that drifted to the ground until there was nothing remaining of what had once been. Before he'd even had a chance to grab onto hope, it was gone, torn from his hand and set ablaze. Tokoyami had to stand there and think, forcing his face back to one of neutrality, if it had even been real. If this feather had shown itself before him for his sake. That was no mistake, right? It wasn't just coincidence, or him being mistaken. He couldn't have been wrong to see that single feather and feel hope. Because if he didn't have that… then he didn't have anything. And Tokoyami had to have something, after everything he'd been put through. He didn't want to accept… that he was completely and utterly alone in this.
"Hey, Tokoyami, you look upset. Is something the matter?" Dabi purred, a smile ready to break on his lips.
He thinks he can intimidate me. God, Dabi, you're such an asshole, Tokoyami thought, swallowing back his shock and desperation. "No. Nothing at all," Tokoyami spat, maybe a bit too vehemently. "Just so long as you keep those flames away from my own feathers."
Dabi held a hand to his chest in mock offense. "What, me? Perish the thought. Well, not until you're ready to train again, anyway." Looking down, he stepped on the remainder of the ashes, grinding them into the carpet until they no longer existed. With that threat hanging in the air, he turned around, entering the sanctity of his room.
Tokoyami glared daggers at him the entire way, watching him retreat into his lair of secrets so that he wouldn't have to stick around and explain himself to Tokoyami. When the door closed, he was still staring, wondering what the hell just happened. But he felt his questions, the ones left unanswered and the ones left unasked, burning a hole into him. In that moment, a decision was made.
Tokoyami was going to break into Dabi's room.
X X X
It was rash, he knew, but Tokoyami couldn't stand not knowing anymore. In all honesty, Dabi should've had this coming. He can't just leave a teenager in this cramped space and not expect him to snoop around for answers. Dabi thought he could feign ignorance and be gone for twelve hours of the day, and Tokoyami was tired of it.
The next day when Dabi went out, Tokoyami waited. He didn't usually come back so soon after leaving, but Tokoyami decided to wait a little while just in case, in the off chance that he came back claiming to forget something. Tokoyami paced the room, checking the cracks in the window to make sure that the villain was definitely gone before deciding that he wasn't going to wait any longer.
Tokoyami searched through the junk drawers in the kitchen. The interesting thing to note about hotel rooms like this is that their locks weren't anything special. Such was the case with most locks for interior rooms. He'd looked at the lock earlier, and it didn't look like it would be too challenging to open. Because this was a hotel room, there was no deadbolt, just the one lock. So when Tokoyami found an old gift card in the drawer, he already had everything he needed.
He approached the door to Dabi's room, asking himself if this was really what he wanted to do. And proceeded to jam the card into the crevice between the handle and doorframe. He fiddled with it for a while, trying to find the right angle to the slant. When he felt it wedged against the lock, he bent the card back towards the frame like a lever, forcefully shoving the lock back into the door. The door unlocked with a click, and he reached out for the doorknob. He'd watched Dabi unlock this door countless times and had seen the dark outline of his room from a distance. Now he got to go in alone.
Tokoyami took a deep breath and opened the door, not sure what he'd find.
The room was as gloomy up close as it was from a distance, and as his eyes adjusted he could see it for what it truly was. It was cold and musty as hell, like this place was a cave created for a monster that didn't want to see the world. It was sparser than he was expecting, too. No posters or grand schemes decorated the walls, just blank canvases stained with soot and dirt. There were some darts buried in one part of the wall with some indistinguishable scraps of torn up paper, but that was it. A large, grossly disheveled bed sat in the center of the room, looking like it wanted to give up on standing. Sheets were piled haphazardly around it, probably in desperate need of being washed. Dressers and shelves had sustained heavy damage from however long Dabi had been living here, splintered on all sides and covered in dark scorch marks. An old boxy tv sat on the cabinet of the wall facing the bed, gathering dust. Part of the tv was melted, and a large crack ran throughout the screen, making Tokoyami wonder if it even worked anymore. A small trashcan in the corner was overflowing with garbage, wads of fast food wrappers collecting on the floor next to it from missed attempts to score. The remains of candles melted down into puddles lined the top of a dresser. If this was truly his home, then it didn't feel like a particularly cherished one.
Tokoyami took one step into the room and stopped, feeling an ominous presence looming over him threateningly. "I'm here, but what am I supposed to be looking for?" he muttered to himself nervously. Looking around, a sudden feeling engulfed him. He was horribly out of place here. This was not his to explore. Get out.
Tokoyami shook those thoughts from his head. No, there has to be something here that I need to see. Otherwise what am I even doing with myself?
Tokoyami crept through the room quietly as if he were being monitored, the fear of messing up tracing his every step. The bedside was the first place he went to for some reason. Only half the bed looked like it was in actual use, grungy and wrinkled as it was, while the other was the home of dirty clothes and blankets. It looked like he tossed around a lot. Tokoyami wondered with a grimace if his burns hurt even in his sleep.
There was a lamp next to the bed, but he dare not turn it on for fear of what it might illuminate. The scraggly light seeping in from the window was enough for him. With it, he could make out the glint of metal scattered across the bedside table. Staples, both new and used, with droplets of dried blood staining them and the dark wood beneath them. He got the impression that there were also staples buried into the carpet, for how many Dabi seemed to use. There was also an almost empty bottle of disinfectant on the small table. Tokoyami stared at the bedside a bit too long, thinking. It occurred to him that over these past few months, in the time since he'd known Dabi, that his burns never looked like they were healing. He understood that they were severe, whatever it was that had caused them, but it still struck him as strange. Unless his suspicions about Dabi's quirk, ones that he'd began to form whiling training against the man, were true. It didn't help that the nauseating smell of burning flesh that he associated with Dabi hung heavily in the air.
Tokoyami took a step away with a shuttered breath. He kept looking around.
There was a closet and a bathroom over on the far wall. Tokoyami decided that he didn't necessarily need to investigate that stuff, but he went over to the wall anyway. He figured he knew what to expect from his closet, though he wouldn't have been surprised if there were some skeletons in there as well. Metaphorically speaking, I would hope.
Tokoyami paused outside the bathroom, seeing something on the carpet. Dark blotches stained the floor leading into the bathroom, and a familiar smell that was much more chemical emanated from somewhere. It didn't look like blood, and against his better judgement he peeked inside. The black spots continued inside, leading to a disgusting sink stained with similar blotches, a bottle spilled next to it ooing the crusty liquid. He'd see messes like this before, and only then did he recognize what the smell was.
…Hair dye? You dye your hair black?
It wasn't the biggest of reveals, but it did still beg the question of what Dabi was supposed to look like. Without his scars and staples and altered appearances, who the hell was this guy and how did he turn out like this?
He still had to figure that out.
The longer he walked around this room, the more chilled and nervous he became. The atmosphere of this enemy territory was beginning to get to him. But there was nothing else in plain view. It was as though he didn't like being surrounded by memories, so he stashed them all away to keep them out of sight. Dabi didn't really have any sort of attachment to this room. It was equal parts a sanctuary and a dungeon, a place to sleep and nothing more. That was the impression he got, anyway.
Tokoyami was hesitant to search through his drawers. That felt like going too far for some reason. At the same time… he was instilled with the nonsensical fear that if he touched something in this room or misplaced one tiny thing that Dabi would notice and come after him with a vengeance. He knew – he knew – that Dabi wouldn't do anything to seriously hurt him. But if he took a wrong step here, he wondered if Dabi would be quite so forgiving. Probably not, if yesterday's use of fire to incinerate that feather was any indication.
So he wasn't going to touch anything, he decided. He was, however, going to look under the bed. Like any other person, he probably stored junk under there that he didn't want to get rid of for one reason or another. That didn't feel as dishonest as going through his drawers looking for answers that might not even exist in this room. If the rest of his room was so bare, then maybe it was just in Dabi's nature not to be materialistic. It would explain his lack of interest in the boxes Tokoyami had gone through outside, as though the villain was entirely detached from such things. Tokoyami couldn't help but think about Shouji, who had mentioned that he was a minimalist. Was this what it was like?
Those thoughts dispersed when Tokoyami got down and looked under the bed, not sure what he'd find. He stared at what he found, finding it out of place. Despite his previous worries, he was struck with curiosity, and reached out to make sure it was what he thought it was. It rolled out from under the bed easily. A pretty typical white ball, slightly deflated from age. It looked like it was never really used, but was still covered in a layer of grime from being shoved underneath there. Why do you have such a thing? I didn't mark you as a particularly sporty person… Tokoyami thought, rolling the ball lightly under his hand. It was true, though. Dabi wasn't particularly athletic, and he was noticeably scrawny. Tokoyami knew he could throw a decent punch from experience, but when it came to battle he relied heavily on his flames. Training with him in the past didn't usually last long, becoming shorter as Tokoyami got better. He'd already surmised by now that the villain might have a weak constitution, probably due to his burns. It was hard to imagine him playing with a ball. Maybe it was supposed to serve as some sort of memento? Or perhaps he found it and forgot about it. It felt like he forgot about things he had a lot, like with the boxes in the main room, though that could also be intentional.
Tokoyami rolled the ball back under the bed. He hadn't really been able to glean much from the discovery, other than adding more questions to his ever-growing list. A voice in the back of his head told him to stop snooping around. It was too dangerous.
Tokoyami sat back, looking around the gloomy room with a discerning eye. "Why can't you just keep your secrets in plain view?" Tokoyami grumbled. He wasn't about to leave just like this. But he really didn't want to root around anymore than he had to. Technically speaking, he didn't have to do any of this. It was the insatiable urge to learn that forced his hand.
Tokoyami's eyes landed on something in the corner, tucked away in the darkness where the thin light from the window didn't shine. A pretty normal looking cardboard box, much like the ones he had stored in the living room. That meant there had to be something in it, and whatever it was he didn't want being out where Tokoyami could see it.
He walked over to it, looking down to where it sat quietly. It wasn't sealed or anything, it just… existed. Crouching down, Tokoyami carefully flipped open the flaps of the box. It was a box filled with magazine articles and images ripped from newspapers. And looking down, the first image he saw made his mouth go dry. It was an image he recognized, one that he hadn't seen in a while but could still recall vividly in his mind from just this past spring. An article covering the sports festival, and on the front of it was a picture of the finalists standing on the podiums. Bakugou in first place, foaming at the mouth with anger, Todoroki in second, looking down quietly, and himself in third, looking up at the person who had beat him in semifinals.
Tokoyami stared at the picture for a long time. He would expect Shigaraki to have something like this, but why Dabi? From his understanding, Dabi and the rest of the current League didn't join up with Shigaraki until after the Stain incident, when the sports festival had already come to pass. So why the hell did he have something like this tucked away? He didn't seem like the kind of person who would have a vested interest in the UA event. It was only the front page, too, like all he cared about were the finalists. It was weird seeing a picture of what later would become two of the League's targets during the forest raid, whether it be intentional or not.
Strange as it was, Tokoyami got the impression that Dabi's reason for having this… wasn't about him. He thought this while looking at the image of himself, standing there on the lowest podium. There was something missing that just wasn't lining up. The paper looked like it had been crumpled up and torn at the edges before being straightened out again. Tokoyami wondered if Dabi had a previous interest in Bakugou, as the champion of the festival. But he recalled that the villain hadn't been particularly fond of Bakugou's angry nature upon capture. So that just left Todoroki, standing in the picture with a distant expression. It had been a while, but it brought back memories of Tokoyami watching the fights of the tournament unfold. Todoroki had proven himself to be an incredibly strong opponent, even more so when he used his fire for the first time in that grand spectacle. That's right. That's why Bakugou was so mad. Todoroki didn't want to use his fire against him. Tokoyami reached towards the picture, as if he wanted to grab onto it and never let go, just so that he could relive the past and think about the people he left behind. On that day, he was depicted alongside two of the strongest students in class as one of the most promising future heroes. How times have changed. Not wanting to use all of your quirk… that's okay, though. I know Endeavor was cheering for you in the crowds that day… but maybe you didn't want to get burned. Fire can be such a scary thing.
Tokoyami's hand stopped over the image, his fingertips hovering just barely over it, casting a shadow over the faces. His thoughts felt hazy, like there were ideas and memories floating around that he was having trouble comprehending. And even though he hadn't actually found any incriminating evidence about Dabi… this room was beginning to make him sick. He admitted to himself – while every other thought came and went through his head – that he didn't want to dig around anymore than he had to. Maybe someday he could pull up the courage to dig deeper, but today was not that day. His hands were already trembling, his mind foggy from being in such a dangerous place for so long, and the atmosphere of this dark place was starting to get to him. With a shaky breath, he closed the box just like he'd found it, not wanting to disturb the papers within it. Even though his curiosity begged for him to keep going, it was ruled out but the other part of him that just wanted to leave this whole place behind.
That left just one last thing that Tokoyami had yet to explore. And if not for the quiet feeling of warmth that managed to touch him the moment he stood up and away from the box, he probably would've missed it entirely. The window.
As if caught in a trance, he walked over to it. Dark curtains were pulled over the filthy glass panes, but the tiniest sliver of sunlight shined through, bravely slicing through the heavy melancholy that permeated the room. Like a subdued beacon of hope, it offered an invitation. With an uncertain hand, Tokoyami carefully pealed back one of the curtains, watching as dust motes floated through the air from the disturbance.
The windows looked like they hadn't been touched in a long time. But they were there, barred only by a simple lock that he could reach out and unflip. And through them, he could see the parking lot spread out below him. Everything was so much more visible once the curtain had been disturbed. Why Dabi would choose to keep his own room so dark, Tokoyami wasn't sure. The view, as dingy and filthy as it was, was also breathtaking. He could see where the tops of the buildings crowding around him touched the sky, and beyond that was the sun, mostly hidden by those very same buildings but shining all the same. It was warm.
And when he looked down, he could see a path so vividly laid out before him. The parking lot was as empty as ever, not a person in sight. Nothing but a cold concrete floor that the sun could never touch, even at its highest point. But it was so far down. The third story of a building had never before been so daunting to him. Yet here it was, and it made him dizzy just to see how far below the ground was.
Tokoyami reached his hand out shakily, pulling at the lock. It was old, stuck in place from lack of use, but it gave way. He laid his hands on the cold glass panel and, bracing himself, shoved it to the side. The window resisted even more than the lock, and yet it also surrendered to him.
There was something different about the chill October breeze that welcomed him here. In the other room he could always feel the cold coming in from the broken and boarded up window, and it made him shiver at night. But here it was different, caressing his feathers in a way that felt gentle. He stuck his head out of the window, hands clutched so tightly around the windowsill that his knuckles had turned white. And he looked at the sky, that great big expanse that evaded him so. There were no villains, no anyone to keep him shackled.
If I could just… fly away. Like a bird.
His heart beat loudly, a pounding that resonated with his every shallow breath and filled his head.
If I could just… be free.
Tokoyami looked for any conceivable route away from the window. Ledges, windowsills, a ladder – anything that would take him down to the ground safely. But the sides were flat. No bricks stuck out, and the only thing from here that offered any sort of handhold were the subsequent windows of the floors below him.
He leaned his head out further, caught in the trance-like state at the mere prospect of escape. A twinge of discomfort was sent through his midriff. Dabi isn't here. He'd never catch me. I… I'm not very strong, but just maybe I could make it down there. It would – it should be easy, had I not been in my current state. I could be careful, and climb my way down, and then… and then what?
Tokoyami found himself raising his knee onto the windowsill, disturbing the layer of dust there. He'd seen people less trained than him do feats like this, scaling the sides of buildings and swinging from sill to sill. The city was a playground for many. And a prison for him, one he wouldn't have constrict him any longer.
His scars ached in protest.
After that… I could run. I'd find a hero patrolling the area. They have to be around here. Maybe… maybe Hawks is out there, looking for me right now. Tokoyami thought about the red feather, and the residual hope it had instilled in him. He looked back up at the sky, feeling the warmth of the sun on his face. Would he come? If I screamed up at the sky, would he be here? Or would I just be wasting my breath, giving away my position for every villain in the vicinity to find me instead. Maybe Dabi would come running instead, and all would have been for naught.
Tokoyami shook the delusions from his head, steeling his resolve for the path below him, the one he could grasp with his own hands so long as his muscles continued to hold out. No. I need to do this myself. If I can't have the sky, then I can certainly reach the ground.
That very ground, the key to his freedom, swam in his field of vision so far below. He felt his nerves trembling, his hands becoming cold the longer he held onto the frigid windowsill.
I c-can still reach them. If I go now, then I can just go back. To my family. My friends. The life I was stolen away from, it could go back. Tokoyami's vision went fuzzy, but he was too busy thinking to even wonder why his eyes had become so damp. But then how would I ever explain? What happened to me, and how I got these scars? Oh god, do they think I'm dead? Have they already grieved for me?!
A drop of rain fell onto the windowsill, and yet the skies were clear. Do I tell them what I've done, and everything that's happened? N-no, I can't do that. But what about Overhaul? He's still alive – what if he tells the police that I k-killed someone? But that was an accident. All of this, just one great accident. I was never supposed to be here. It was supposed to be Bakugou.
The earth quaked ever so slightly beneath his hands. Or maybe he was shaking, his fears and uncertainties beginning to catch up with him. But this cruel game of tag would not slow him. He would force his own hands if it brought him any closer to a future he could envision, even if his weakened body was yelling at him not to.
Tokoyami eyed the second story ledge, so far below him. And he lurched forward.
Please…don't…
Tokoyami stopped dead in his tracks. His vision cleared, and he stared down at the ground so far below him in horror, wondering how close he'd come to falling. He thought he had imagined the sound at first, but his heart told him otherwise. A voice, so thin and reedy. Something so impossibly quiet and frail that it could've been mistaken for the wind flowing through his feathers. But winds didn't plead. Winds didn't carry a weak desperation that clawed at him from the innermost recesses of his thoughts.
Tokoyami got away from the windowsill, his head spinning. He didn't know what to think anymore. But there was one certainty in his mind. "…Dark Shadow?" he whispered hoarsely.
The first words he heard from his quirk in weeks… and it was telling him to stop. To not do what he thought he wanted to do. But that probably meant he never wanted to do it in the first place. Or, more accurately, that it was beyond his physical limits as it stood.
"Dark Shadow, just tell me what you want," Tokoyami groaned, desperate for a response. He didn't want to be here, pleading to nobody. It was getting to him in a way he could barely stand.
Silence.
His heart thumped dully in his chest, weighed with regret. He could no sooner grasp the opportunities that flashed before him than he could help himself. It instilled a heavy emotion in him that left him forlorn. He wanted to be bitter and angry that nobody was there for him right now. But that would never accomplish anything. He just had to believe that they – Dark Shadow or the heroes or anyone who might listen – were there for him in some way.
He got off the windowsill, and then he drew the curtains back across the window until just that thin sliver of nauseating light remained. Looking around the room – Dabi's room – he felt the dark melancholy of it smothering him even more. He needed to get out. Now. This room was never his to see. It held a dark and troubled past. As Tokoyami retraced his steps to the door, he felt guilt well up in his chest.
Why was this place so sad?