Chapter 10: Born of Flames
"I-I can't do it."
"You can and you will! I won't tolerate weaklings in this family! No more!"
"We're not weak. You threw us aside. You think you're better than us just because we don't meet your lofty standards."
"Don't talk back to me! Cease the excuses!"
"It's the truth, you-"
"ENOUGH! No more waste of potential! You possess one of the greatest abilities in the world. Use it!"
"But…"
"THAT'S AN ORDER."
The unruly spiky crimson haired young teenager with bleached white bangs gulped, trying not to tremble from nerves before the imposing figure before him. Any defiance and anger he had felt in the past was squashed down to comply, curbing his frustration at being ignored until something was demanded of him. He closed his turquoise eyes, trying to concentrate on his Quirk as he felt the heated gaze upon him, evaluating.
"Come on…" He whispered and after a few seconds flames leapt from his hands, forming balls of fire that felt comfortable, tickling his skin like a cat winding its tail around. He opened his eyes and looked at himself, half proud and half afraid at his success. A shadow of a smile twitched his lips but it was gone in an instant as the small victory was taken from him by a sharp command.
"More! I know you can do more than that. There will be no skimping today! Not again!" There was the sound of intense crackling fire, the room growing dangerously warmer which would have set off a smoke alarm had it any. "I've been letting you off too easy for years, not pushing you hard enough like your brother given that little wimpy act of yours, giving up without pushing yourself. You're a teenager now, you can handle this."
"But, what about bef-"
"This is your last chance to prove your worth to me."
He felt his heart quicken, his breath catching. This was his chance, maybe his only one to gain approval, to be given attention instead of cast aside like unwanted trash. He could prove his worth, and then maybe, just maybe so could the others if the "golden child" was currently not hogging all the attention. Now was his time once again after all these years.
Maybe they would be allowed to be a family again instead of ignored and isolated because of their seemingly unworthiness, their declared biological failure. Perhaps now he could do it, he could endure a bit longer to hold them together. Perhaps even bargain getting his mom to a better facility even though she was now out of the clutches of the household tyrant, trading it instead for a different kind of prison where she was isolate from her children.
He could do it. For them. For his family.
I'm the oldest, I have to protect them.
Taking a deep breath he dug down, coaxing his Quirk to come out even further, allowing the flames in his hands to glow brighter and bigger. His hands warmed as if comfortably putting them near a warm oven but without the danger of being burnt though he felt the beginnings of sweat.
"More! None of this pissy wimp stuff! You are the first-born, you cannot be a disgrace! The highest caliber of flames are within your body! Don't you squander what I gave to you, boy."
"But I'm not you… I don't think I can. Even with training my bod-"
Suddenly there was a large hand grabbing his own enflamed ones in a vice grip, not afraid of the fire. There was a flash of intense turquoise eyes glaring, "You will do what you are told! You will make your flames like mine! I gave you your Quirk! There's no reason why you can only use your hands, even if your mother's side somehow doused my grand Quirk in you."
"It's not-"
"No more coddling. You carry an inferno in you yet you treat it like a matchstick. You wimped out of physical training, don't complain to me about your untrained body. We start from square one today of your crash course. Do you understand?"
I'll prove myself, I'll get into U.A. and make the old man eat his words. This Quirk is mine, not his.
The hand roughly released him, the tall man swathed in flames glowering at him. His gaze was literally heated, flames expelling from around his eyes and bellowing out past his temples, his feet also wrapped in flames while his chest was a blaze, the flames rolling off his shoulders like he were a devil casually bathing in hell's flames. The heat from the flames was intense but the judgmental look alone was enough to scald. "Now, do it."
The teen screwed his eyes shut, blocking out distractions and all the excuses, the fear of his wellbeing and anger to be contrary.
I have to prove I can do it. That I can keep up with this legacy I was born to. I'm not useless. I'll make him regret neglecting me and the others. I'll make him respect us. I have to protect them if Mom can't, if he's breaking her. He will respect me and listen.
A taut breath escaped him as he channeled his determination, becoming a blank slate that could embrace the power that lay within him. His emotions were faint as he focused, giving his Quirk front and center.
I will make this legacy mine, old man. I will surpass you and make you eat your words.
The flames slowly began to crawl up the outside of his arms up to his shoulders before blooming across his upper chest, seemingly expelling above his collarbones and around his neck. His eyes tickled and with a sputter flames formed, creating a fiery mask that was far smaller than what he was trying to replicate. Next the flames began to bloom around his feet, licking up to his shins.
His eyes popped open and he looked at himself in amazement, feeling the strain of keeping the flames in order but excited at his success. His head shot up in apprehension, a hopeful look on his face as he dared to let himself feel.
He had done it. He had done what he was asked, beyond what he was able to before. Better than what he had done in secret on his own to test his limits though he stopped short whenever the sensation of blisters began. Now all he felt was the warmth of triumph, pride in himself.
Surely this was worthy of approval. Of his acceptance. Of his respect.
"There! Now keep it up until I say so! You must never let your flames be extinguished! Like mine!"
The smile started to falter, no praise to be had. Instead fear and anger prickled at him, giving him an odd sensation of icy hot. "I-I don't-"
"DON'T TALK BACK TO ME, DO IT. IF IT TAKES THE WHOLE DAY, YOU WILL DO IT. YOU WILL NOT LEAVE THIS ROOM UNTIL YOU DO."
His mouth clamped shut and he stiffened at the thought of the isolation, trying to will his flames to stay as commanded. He could feel the warmth on his body, slightly increasing, but he ignored it as he felt a flare of anger amidst the frustration and fear.
The flames had to be maintained; his worth had to be maintained. They were depending on him, this was his moment. He clutched his fists and willed his flames to grow, urging them with every fiber of his being to listen to him for once and not make him sick with a fever.
Come on, please. You can do it. Show him what you're made of.
Surely, though almost painstakingly slow, the flames grew and seemed to steady themselves, covering the teen in a nearly identical fashion as his instructor. Silently he counted, trying to maintain track of just how long he could keep his Quirk activated to such a degree.
As he neared three hundred the silence finally broke.
"There! Now, if you can last at least this long, you can do so far longer! With your brother currently temporarily indisposed thanks to that woman it's time to focus on your training, even if you don't have half his ability."
He glanced at the imposing man, his attention dividing between maintaining his fully activated Quirk. He barely resisted the urge to sneer despite his usual quiet defiance and returned apathy throughout the years, used to being treated as a ghost in his own home. However the jab at his mother caused a stab of anger and shame. The use of his brother as a means of spiteful motivation, as a reminder he was second tier, only furthered his quiet frustration, his inner fire growing.
It was bad enough he was not allowed to interact with the "perfect creation." Must he constantly be compared to him without even witnessing his abilities for himself save the day the younger boy's Quirk had manifested? After that he and the others had been pushed out, as if they were a contagious disease that would degrade the chosen one; the one who would one day surpass the Number One Hero, All Might
The man whose status, whose unfathomable brightness, was the reason for their existence.
The man whose existence was the cause of the petty one-sided rivalry that plagued the family as the resident hothead couldn't stand being second best.
Competitiveness ruled the household with little room for nurturing, save what their mother could sneak in and what the siblings could share out of sight of the resident dictator. A household was for raising future Heroes, for crushing All Might. Nothing more.
"While it's certainly not my Hellflame it does have potential." The fire-cloaked man looked thoughtful, as close to pleased as he could get as he scratched his fiery chin, letting the rest of his fire die away to save the room's oxygen levels. "Guess your Quirk should be upgraded from Fireball to Conflagration… I'll begin the re-registration paperwork."
The teen brightened, resentment slipping away at the words. This was it, this was his moment! He was burning brightly and finally being acknowledged. He was a step closer to having the imposing man's ear without needing to rebel. He could surpass him and make him eat his words, make him regret the years of ignoring.
Then there was the smell of overcooked meat and a dull thought came to him, almost numbly.
Why… why was he hurting?
The pain exploded, making stars burst before his eyes and he nearly fainted, stumbling. Excruciating pain spread throughout his body and the redhead began to scream, howling in panic, "I want to stop! Make it stop!"
"You're overreacting! Keep it up until I say so! No quitting!"
"It burns!" "DO IT!"
The smell of burning meat increased and suddenly a scalding sensation gripped his body, feeling as though something were stripping his skin away. Suddenly he went numb but the screams only increased, his body registering what his brain could not as he went into shock. He barely could hear his instructor trying to switch tactics though the barking tone still present.
"Calm down! You're fine! Just deactivate it!"
"IT BURNS! HELP ME!"
"Simply regulate your body temperature! This is training for your weak body! We'll build up a resistance!"
"IT HUR-"
"Your weak constitution is no longer an excuse! I want to see you push yourself to the max!"
"I CAN'T! IT WON'T STOP."
"LISTEN TO ME!"
"HELP ME! I CAN'T CONTROL IT!"
"YES, YOU CAN AND WILL!"
"I CAN'T!"
"LISTEN!" "MAKE IT STOP! IT HURTS. PLEASE, DAD!"
The screams grew, swallowing up his words, and the teen collapsed on the floor, clutching himself as his flames wrapped around his body uncontrollably, writhing in pain. The smell was unmistakable now and the grandiose of the so called mighty Hero faltered as the screams escalated; the crying voice grew hoarse and the boy stilled, reeking of burnt flesh as the flames flickered and abruptly extinguished.
"Touya? TOUYA!"
"Dabi-san?"
The dark haired young man cracked open one turquoise eye, seeing Deku standing nearby, a concerned look on the younger boy's freckled face. Despite being part of the League for a only few months the boy was undeterred in approaching the newcomer, which was somewhat convenient for Dabi. Despite his aloof persona, Deku was receptive to Dabi and proved himself capable despite his proclaimed secondary position, unlike the current head that Dabi found lacking.
Yet for the past few weeks Deku had been withdrawn from everyone, less bright eyed, specifically after he had returned from his solo outing. He had returned changed but refused to say anything about what had transpired, being oddly secretive and evasive until the others gave up prying though the scarred young man had an inkling. To see Deku engaging unprompted was an improvement.
Still, he didn't appreciate being roused.
Dabi let out a groan, leaning his head back against the wall that he had fallen asleep sitting up against, "What is it?"
"Are you alright?"
"Why wouldn't I be? Seems like a stupid question."
"Right, sorry. Just, you were making some sounds and I wanted to check on you."
"Waste of time, I'm fine," Dabi dismissed, both eyes opened but hooded as he looked at the apparent second in command of the League—or temporary as they had insisted given the true leader was locked up in Tartarus. The kid was hardly impressive to look at but something about him made him dangerous, unsuspectingly so to the untrained eye given his boyish face and seemingly caring side.
Yet if the true leader had seen potential in the youth to bring him into the fold there was something to not underestimate.
Dabi had been drawn to him instantly, unlike that child Shigaraki. Yet now the kid had a slightly different air to him, coupled with a pair of red eyes as his heterochromia had apparently resolved itself; that was notable.
He thought of the photo their mutual enigmatic benefactor had shown him years ago that featured two boys. The then obviously shy green haired green eyed boy was more grown and confident now; Dabi hadn't paid much attention to the taller pale haired teen next to him.
However there was a fresh haunted, troubled air to Deku unlike when they first met months ago, let alone a few weeks ago; the look in his eyes was unmistakable along with the faint shadows under them. Also the change in signature apparel choice was noted, the boy seemingly developing an aversion to waistcoats overnight.
Overall the kid's state was troubling though he didn't betray his interest, maintaining his deadpan expression.
"Oh, okay," the boy affirmed in a low voice but remained, hesitating as he seemed to debate internally. "I have… unpleasant dreams also. Sometimes… Tomura-senpai too, though don't let him know I told you."
"Like I care what that hand freak thinks. I'm not one for spilling the beans if you're worried about that."
"Y-you're really confidant."
"Get old enough and you'll be too. What matters is what you think, not others. Cut away that worry and a whole new world opens up to you."
"But you're still young…?"
Dabi let out a dry chuckle, a wry smile forming, "It's all in the mindset, kid. Grown up doesn't mean just the body, look at Shigaraki. Someone around his age shouldn't act like a moody spoiled brat. I'd get if it were an act but honestly it's hardly inspiring."
Deku nodded wordlessly, not wanting to add anything to the slander of his long time companion and foster brother, even if it were true. Besides, Dabi did not seem like he needed confirmation via additional commentary. Instead he waited, sensing the other wanted some peace and quiet but a question burned within him.
"… C-can I ask something?"
"Does my answer affect whether you will go or away or not?"
"No…?"
Dabi let out a sigh, running a hand through his spiky black hair. Would he have to dye it again any time soon? Perhaps Kurogiri could be discreet in purchasing what he needed, he seemed like the only prudent one in the bunch, given the secrets he kept. He roved his eyes off to the side, "Make it quick."
"Have you… have you ever feared your own Quirk?"
The question made him still, his heart seemingly skipping a beat. He shifted his gaze back toward the boy, keeping his head against the wall, maintaining his aloof persona though his tone got a bit sharper, "What's it matter? Where's this coming from?"
"I… I did something I didn't mean to do and I can't change it." The boy gulped, his red eyes looking further haunted as his gaze shifted to the floor. "I made a vow never to… I didn't want… that I wouldn't… and yet…"
"Did you get caught?"
"N-no? Well, yes and no… not for that, no."
"It was an accident, right?"
"Y-yes… But still, I couldn't control… my Quirk started… I didn-"
"Then stop feeling sorry, you can't change anything. Do you have a Quirk that allows time travel? One that allows you to undo an action of yours within the past few minutes?"
"No… I can't chang-"
"Suck it up."
Deku clamped his mouth shut abruptly, eyes wide as he stared at his companion who continued to slump against the wall, apparently comfortable.
Dabi watched through hooded eyes, sighing once more in exasperation and weariness. His inkling was proving to pan out though he wasn't necessarily happy about it, recognizing that look of self-disgust; that fear at one's own abilities and complete loss at what to do.
"Look, I have no idea how you became part of the League, I don't rightly care. But when I do something it's on purpose. I've killed people deliberately. I came here deliberately. I'm enduring you deliberately."
When Deku didn't offer an immediate response he continued, figuring he had to get this out of the way once and for all. Everyone else seemed in complete denial or inept regarding the boy's handling in this case as he "hid" his distress terribly. Yet here he had been sought out, not any of the longer term companions, something that sparked amusement in the rather placid young man.
After all he was just killing some time while awaiting the next move to complete his ambition.
"Make do and move on when things go unexpectedly sideways. Evolve, prevail over what made you stumble; no matter if you turn out differently than you thought or what others tried to force you to be. You have to live with your actions whether the outcome was your intention or not. Don't be expecting help, you have to depend on yourself or learn that the hard way."
"There's help services. Maybe-"
"Professional help's a joke, you've got to depend on yourself and maybe someone will offer you a helping hand, but don't count on it. It's a dog eat dog world, and there won't always be someone there to catch you when you fall. Trust doesn't mean reliability. People are inept and you can't blindly put your faith in them, you have to be able to hold your own or you'll be lost."
The green haired boy nodded with a look of conviction though determination appeared to peek through the somberness. A small smile formed, the hints of remorse seemingly gone for the moment, "Thanks."
"So, why are you asking me instead of that 'senpai' of yours? I'm just the new guy, remember?"
"Because… I don't know… you just are so blunt but it just vibes as a different type of indifference. You're unbiased too; you don't pull any punches. You're honest."
"Oh really? Sure it's not because I'm a neutral party?"
"Well, uh, m-maybe…? I mean Tomura-senpai has his own issues but he's not… Um, he's rather reactionary while you, well…"
"Big surprise."
"I mean, he has to always be careful about his Quirk, he can't turn it off. But you… your Quirk is amazing though it can be deadly! You can activate it whenever and control how much flames you want to expel. You probably even rival Endeavor; it's great that we have such amazing firepower on our side!" Deku rattled off, clearly in awe of the fire wielder as his eyes sparkled for the first time since Dabi had met him, the most lively he had looked in weeks.
"Such intense flames from what I've seen! You obviously trained hard to control them! Maybe that's why you don't want to train with us, you're an expert with an emitter type Quirk! You don't have to worry about drawbacks because of practice despite possible past physical repercussion. Maybe from training accidents or from first manifestation mishap… How does a fire user regulate their own body temperature? Are they immune to any flames or just their own? Do you build up a tolerance in time or just find a temperature you can endure? Did you always produce blue flames or only as your intensity increased with practice?"
The kid was rambling now; the haunted look disappeared as he zeroed in on the possible capabilities of the flame user's Quirk. What had been a discussion became a full on analyzing monologue that had the passion of a fanboy behind it. It was almost like seeing a young child's face on Christmas morning, except for the deep thoughtful expression that looked fitting to one unraveling the mysterious of the universe.
Dabi almost wanted to laugh. His appearance often came across as a twisted aesthetic choice or the result of some accident or villain attack to those who had no idea about his Quirk. The kid was observant but seemingly trying to not jump to conclusions about his scarring; then again he hadn't properly seen him in action for an extended period of time to deduce the true cause. Only a handful knew it was a self-inflicted side effect from prolonged use but Dabi wasn't about to admit that weakness.
Also the little boss was probably close in age to the so-called "golden child" who was trained religiously…
"So you can't control yours?" He cut off the rattling Deku who startled at the question and immediately became subdued.
"Not… not yet. I have full access now though."
"And you're over here by me?"
Deku's red eyes widened and he jumped back, blinking, his eyes nearly completely green before seeping back to red within seconds. The passionate boy suddenly was shrinking back to a cowering child, horror on his face, "I-I'm sorry. I wasn't thinking. You're so strong I didn't think it would be… I didn't think-"
"Such a pain…" Dabi droned as he began to rise, sporting an indifferent look. Deku took a step back, giving the impassive young man space, unsure as to what he would do. "Shigaraki really is useless when it comes to things like this. Can't properly train his own team least he kill one or vise versa, whether through stupidity or neglect. The League isn't much with him as its present leader, temporary or not."
"It's not his fault! Sensei-"
"Come on." Dabi brushed past him, one hand in a pocket while with the other hooked Deku by the elbow, turning him around before letting go as he kept walking.
"Where are we going?" Deku managed, hurrying after, a bit bewildered by the apparent invitation.
"To train."
"What!? W-why?"
"Cuz you're supposed to be our leader too. I can't stand that hand freak, but maybe I can tolerate you. But first we need to toughen you up and get a handle on that Quirk so you're a force to be reckoned with, not afraid of your own abilities."
His benefactor would not be pleased with Deku's present condition either and frankly it annoyed him though he had always been passive in watching the boy's training; regardless, damaged goods was still goods and he was going to make the most of it. While the man hadn't been specific in the boy's treatment, aside from observing and supporting, letting him spiral without guidance was out of the question.
He lifted his free hand, igniting blue flames that flared hungrily in his palm, "Training your body alone isn't enough, you need technique; but without proper technique you'll only hurt yourself or get yourself killed, if not both. Skill and compatibility go hand in hand. If you want to be a proper leader you need to refine your skill set and your mentality."
"Tomura-senpai is Sensei's successor, not me. That's not why I'm here."
"Oh?" Came the dry comment as the flames disappeared, followed by a doleful, "Being here will be a whole hell of a less annoyance if you called the shots."
"I'm in the background for support, the brains. Senpai is the force and face of the organization while Sensei is away. We're a team."
"Maybe we can change that, you have a better face, literally… then again Shigaraki does have one that screams 'villainy.' His stability in comparison to yours though…"
Deku let out a nervous laugh, knowing what lay beneath the hand that his foster brother kept over his face at nearly all times. It took months for him to relax and trust others enough to let them catch a glimpse… last one to see him without permission and remarked about it had their hand rotted and cut off, the exception being Toga.
"You sure this is a good idea? I could k-, uh, h-hurt you… I'm not sure if my body is even compatible with my Quirk, Sensei thought so but…"
"Save your sentiments. I can handle myself." Dabi turned his head toward his companion lazily as he droned though the compatibly remark hit a nerve, "More likely I'll hurt you. Think of it as trial by fire. Besides, you want to talk compatibility with me?"
"Right…"
The notion didn't seem to frighten the boy, instead looking thoughtful as he followed. He was curious about the man who seemed put together—not to be literal—unlike him. He had been hesitant to ever ask to trade blows even if Dabi never seemed interested before now. Given the scarred man's scathing capabilities there was concern for self preservation but he couldn't keep running away from challenges and harnessing his abilities better. Still, a question burned within as he followed along.
"Why did you join the League? If I can ask."
"Let's just say I have a certain lifelong endeavor I need to take care of. The League's goal to reshape society through force of hand just happens to align with my objective. False Heroes must be rooted out and extinguished." A sinister smile appeared on the dark haired young man's face, savoring the dream, "My flames will burn brighter and higher than anyone before or after me."
He would write his own legacy, wiping the old one that had abandoned him from the face of the earth. So-called Heroes and their complicit sympathizers would die in the greatest Conflagration known to man, incinerating all the devious fakers of the world. And making a few allies along the way to help add bodies to the tinder was all the better. Speaking of allies…
"Why are you so interested in me? There are others in the League, you know." He pressed, wanting a straight answer as to why Deku seemed to drift toward him when not with his usual group, as if drawn by some unnatural force. "You part moth or something?"
"We're comrades, right? But I guess it's because a familiar sense of society failing us, even if I don't know your story… I just feel drawn? Maybe it's curiosity and awe? But I guess also because of our Quirks's abilities, their physical capabilities as emitters… Uh, is that alright, Dabi-san?"
"Fine with me." Dabi grinned, his turquoise eyes lighting up, not looking at the younger boy. "Just don't complain if you can't take the heat. Also, cut the polite talk, it's just Dabi. I like to keep things short and to the point, got it?"
"Yes, Dabi."
"Good, Little Boss. Let's do this thing. And less talking, I think I just said enough for three months worth of conversation."
"Uh, right."
Now it was time to see if training would make or break this budding spark; what would the flames forge this time? What would emerge from its flames? They said when fire burned all that remained was ashes, leaving nothing. Would it be the same for Deku?
As for him—he'd been born of flames.