Musty cave walls pressed in on every side, frustratingly close. Crates of supplies stashed away in secret for however many years served as the only indication that this hideout was even remotely special. The location was isolated and unknown to the heroes, and in truth that's all it had to be for the likes of them. They'd been in less comfortable conditions before.
Even still, it was hard not to miss what they'd had before. The lofty rooms and open space. The structure and respect. It wasn't a true ideal, living in that pompous mansion, but it was still another part of his life that had gone up in flames, and it hadn't been his choice.
Shigaraki's screams filled this place night and day, so shrill and nauseating that at times he wanted to drive knives in his ears. Nobody mentioned it. They didn't want to talk about or even question it with All for One right there. It wasn't even worth discussing, right? Because this had been what Shigaraki wanted. The greatest power imaginable, given to him so that he could achieve his destructive dreams, and the only price he had to pay was his bodily autonomy.
Dabi picked at one of the loose staples in his wrist. It wasn't doing much to hold his grafted skin together anyway, given how the edges have been further singed after the last big fight.
His body felt too hot. His skin itched in places where he knew he had no feeling, and he resisted the urge to scratch knowing that his nails would tear the burned flesh too easily. His foot was tapping restlessly against the ground, and he didn't truly notice until All for One's voice interjected itself between Shigaraki's screams.
"You'll be fine, other me," All for One sighed. He had so much patience for the agony of others. "Calm down. Our quirk factor is damaged and is in no working condition. As long as we bide our time, we'll be able to use our quirks again."
Shigaraki, meanwhile, was inconsolable as his screams reached a fever pitch. "I'll kill you! I'll kill you! I hate you!" he seethed, practically frothing at the mouth. Dabi watched him with a disinterested expression. A worm of discomfort squirming its way into him wondered if he'd ever looked so unhinged himself. Probably. "As long as even one person remembers All Might, this hatred will never cease to exist!"
Shigaraki writhed on the cave's dirt floor like a dying snake, sinking his nails into his head with such intensity that blood seeped from his scalp. His Master got up from his throne, unhurried, and approached the injured thing with slow, measured steps. Upon reaching his other self, All for One stooped and patted Shigaraki on the back in what might've been a show of comfort, without any of the usual sincerity such a gesture would normally possess.
"It'll be fine!" he assured. "Although we weren't able to steal New Order, we've now removed our greatest obstacle. Let's take it slow! It's never a good idea to stick to a single plan. Although everything was carefully prepared, we must wait a little longer."
Dabi grit his teeth. The itching was becoming unbearable, and it was all he could do to sit still and keep listening to his surroundings when everything was grating on him. "Nope. I'm sooo done with this. Not while the world keeps moving around us."
Too much had happened in so short a time to have left them in this position. Without that forward momentum keeping him going, it was becoming harder to focus. Pacing this place waiting for the time to strike was doing him no good.
All for One turned his eyeless gaze to him, and Dabi resisted the urge to scowl at his ugly mug. He stopped his restless foot tapping.
"Toya, I understand you're displeased that your father has recovered from the last fight, but you need not fret…"
He still wasn't sure how to feel about being referred to as Toya again after all these years. One way or another, his grand reveal had left its impression on the world, and he had to sit with the results of that. The past never dies – but he sure felt closer to death now than he had in a long time.
Toga and Spinner still called him Dabi, though. That was how he'd introduced himself to them, almost a year ago, and so that's who he continued to be. It was fine, he supposed, considering how unapologetically two-faced he felt. At the time of the last major fight, the most important thing had been revealing to his family that Toya wasn't actually dead. But Toya had still burned in those woods. Dabi, too, felt like a moniker that was burning through the wax of its candle.
So he supposed it didn't matter as much in the end.
The end… who would grieve the person he is now, when he inevitably dies a second time and doesn't come back?
All for One sounded almost sympathetic when he spoke again, and yet it did not feel as though the sympathy was conceived for him. "Although you and I are a lot alike, there is one crucial difference…"
Dabi suppressed a shudder. Gross. But he revealed nothing as he spat out a neutral response. "...Oh yeah?" He'd hear him out. But fuck, he did not want to be compared to that guy. All for One was too manipulative and carefully calculated to be on the same level as someone as impulsive and emotionally driven as Dabi. He could see through it, but he had to admit that it was hard to distance himself from someone like that. Dabi's personal goals had become assimilated into All for One's greater schemes; even though it made his own plans more attainable, it left a bitter taste in his mouth. He didn't like being used, even if it was for the sake of mutually assured destruction.
All for One grinned as he stood back to his full height, leaving Shigaraki to twitch and spasm at his feet. Toga had stopped watching a while ago. Spinner couldn't look away, and he chewed fretfully at his claws. "Listen closely. A person like me has only one goal firmly in his mind, but plans out many, many routes to get there. Strictly speaking, they are all routes to use only in times of emergency. Over years… decades, even, everything I have done was to ensure that every single route converges at my goal." He gestured to the person who'd been the leader of the League of Villains, lying prone at his feet. "I'll leave him with you until the body is perfected. Meanwhile, Izuku Midoriya has returned to a fortified U.A." Dabi resisted the urge to ask about his ex-student. Though he wondered not for the first time if the man with many planned paths knew what Tokoyami was up to. How he was supposed to play into this, if it was true that he had everything figured out. "But you see, Toya, there-in lies the difference between you and me. I have a lot of friends."
Dabi scowled and looked away as All for One walked back to his seat. For the first time in a while, the room was quiet. Only the raspy panting from Shigaraki disturbed the air, and they settled into an uncomfortable calm.
What a load of shit, Dabi thought to himself. He already knew damn well that he didn't have much. But he still had…
Dabi reminded himself of where he was, and the actions he'd taken to get here. In one corner of the room was Toga…
Who was gone. She slipped away at some point in the last few minutes, retreating deeper into the caves. Probably to bide her own time doing whatever granted her some semblance of sanity.
And then there was Spinner. Once All for One had stepped away, he'd slithered forward to fill the empty space at Shigaraki's side like a dog. Shigaraki's condition was hard to look at – even more so for Spinner, who'd always regarded him most favorably as a reliable friend and leader through it all.
Dabi smothered a sigh. Temporary though this all was, it wasn't the outcome he had in mind. The tattered remnants of the League of Villains were just doing what they could at this point to cling fast to the ideals they'd had when they'd first joined together under the team name. And All for One was more than happy to continue utilizing them in what was meant to be a mutually beneficial relationship.
But there was a problem, the likes of which Dabi wasn't sure All for One had accounted for despite all his careful planning. Something he dare not reveal to a single living soul.
He wasn't angry anymore.
Maybe that wasn't entirely accurate, either. He still felt the hate and fury and resentment that had fueled him for so long in the first place. But it didn't make his flames any hotter. And it didn't make him feel any better. The unquenchable thirst for vengeance that he'd been eager to drown himself in was still there, and would remain deeply rooted as his main driving force for as long as Enji Todoroki was still alive. And yet it didn't burn so hot. He'd felt it, undoubtedly, when he'd seen that poor excuse of a hero on the battlefield. He'd given in to his anger, of course, when facing off against Shoto. But when it'd ended, and him and the remaining half of what'd once been the League of Villains had retreated to lick their wounds, something else had wormed its way into him without permission.
A heavy, unmistakable grief.
That's what this misery had to be, right? The feeling of loss had carved a hole in the vessel where he'd been holding all his hate, and the more he festered in these feelings, the easier it became to let his anger slip.
Not that he could express as much. Not that he would ever admit that he was privy to the same weaknesses that the forlorn girl and empty cosplayer possessed. He was a force of destruction to be reckoned with, and that was all he had until he could finally reach his last goal in life, for the little it was worth.
But he was frustrated, and not just because he'd strayed from that goal. He'd lost something he hadn't known was so important that day, in the crumbling ruins of that villa.
And it was all because of that kid.
While standing in those burning ruins, he hadn't remembered the last time he'd wanted so badly to cry. Couldn't recall a moment in so many years where his heart had clenched with so much pain and his shoulders had shook in the start of a sob, only for the tears to not come. But there, on that balcony, while staring down at Twice's lacerated body, he'd felt something wretched. And he'd felt it again after what he'd done to Tokoyami, when his rage had boiled over and they'd fought over someone who wasn't even fucking worth it. When he'd hurt him. And hurt him again. And taken everything out on him because the last time he'd felt such unmistakable betrayal, he'd been staring at his own fucking memorial. After all that, he thought his anger would persist, the way it always had before. That it'd been given the fuel to grow. But it hadn't. It'd fizzled out like so many cold little embers when he'd turned his back to Tokoyami and that defeathered bastard and told them to leave. Dabi had never considered himself a merciful person, and he still didn't, but... what else was he supposed to do at the time? The soles of his boots had Tokoyami's blood on them. That was something he'd never wanted.
Dabi was starting to realize that there were other things he wanted in life, beyond the ever-burning promise of revenge. And it occurred to him now, as he took shelter beneath the roof of All for One's crummy little hideout, that for a few meager months, he'd been comfortable. Maybe even content. He hadn't thought that was even possible without his dreams fully realized. He'd been so sure that the only thing that would ever bring him peace would be the death of a single man. But if that were still true, then why didn't thinking of those aspirations ignite him the same way? Why was he instead plagued by thoughts of what could've been, while mourning these new losses just the same as he'd mourned the loss of his own life so many years ago?
Dabi didn't mind the nomu that All for One kept close to him at almost all times. They're big, brutish, sentient monsters, but who wasn't these days? Not that he felt any sort of connection or sympathy towards them, beyond being useful tools crafted by that deranged bastard. They were abominations stitched together to resemble humans, and yet they were so warped by their quirks that they could hardly be labeled with such a lofty title.
Shigaraki lost one in his fight against that American hero, but All for One didn't seem nearly so bothered by it. After all, he still had six more to utilize as he saw fit.
Well, technically seven, but that one was even more unfinished than the others, according to him. It didn't process the Master's orders as good, for whatever reason, and it was always slinking away to do its own thing as if it were pursuing some instinctual need.
Dabi didn't like any one of the sad, disgusting creatures. But the one that never seemed to hang around very long made him particularly uncomfortable.
He was successfully doing a whole lot of fuck-all when he heard the sounds of wings flapping outside the cave entrance.
It ignited something inside him, and he was up on his feet in a heartbeat. The fire beneath his skin burned with an uncomfortable intensity, and it took all his willpower to keep it from seeping out through the cracks in his crumbling furnace of a body.
A dark beak poked its way past the shadows of the doorway, and Dabi's breath caught in his throat before recognition hit him.
It was just that fucking nomu again. The one that wasn't very well behaved.
The heat within him simmered down into something more manageable, and he took a slow breath for the sake of calming down and feigning indifference.
Dabi sat down heavily onto one of the wooden boxes and leaned against the cave wall. He scowled and crossed his arms as the black-feathered beast shambled past him, while his eyes darted to the side so that he didn't have to look at it. Even still, it was hard to ignore the fact that it resembled him.
There were so many reasons to despise that loathsome doctor and his incessant meddling in the living and dead. But this bird-headed nomu was especially vexing, because he knew that this was the result of the doctor not getting his way. Because he'd wanted Tokoyami instead, and there was no way in fucking hell they were going to stand for that. The others had been very open in that regard. And Dabi would never have admitted it out loud, but the thought of Dr. Daruma turning Tokoyami into another one of his disgusting pet projects had... well, it'd scared him. And that alone had been something of a shock, because he'd never had to fear for the well-being of somebody – not even himself.
The nomu's shambling stopped, and he thought to continue ignoring it. But there were only so many places to look in this cramped, miserable place. And so, inevitably, he did regard the monster, turning his head to give it the attention it must be asking of him.
"The hell do you want?" Dabi growled lowly.
Every movement the damn thing made put him on edge, and he hadn't been able to figure out for the longest time why it did. But it'd finally clicked after watching it long enough: it moved like Tokoyami.
It was in such small, subtle ways, and he hated that he recognized them because now it couldn't be unseen.
But the nomu would tilt his head a certain way. Or it would begrudgingly swipe its talons over its arm as if feeling out invisible scars. Or fix the feathers on its head that weren't truly feathers. Or stare at him expectantly, like it was doing right fucking now, as if waiting for him to do something. Anything. Anything other than this.
Being in this place must surely be a punishment.
The Crow nomu continued to wait, and he knew that this couldn't possibly be what it was supposed to do.
Dabi arched a brow. Usually it would move on by now – All for One had been waiting for the thing to get back since... well, since it disappeared without warning the other day. Dabi could tell that it was starting to get underneath that man's wrinkly skin, because it was something that he hadn't really planned for. And he planned everything.
"You gonna say something or what?" Dabi drawled sarcastically, leaning forward. He didn't expect a response – as opposed to the other nomu, this one didn't really talk. At least, he'd never heard it speak. And honestly, it was probably for the best. This thing was too uncanny to be throwing out fully formed sentences.
But for whatever reason, it chose to speak this time. It's beak dropped open, and it spoke with alarming clarity in a voice that did not fucking belong to it.
"I'm nothing like you!"
Dabi surged to his feet, flames igniting in the palms of his hands. "What did you do?!" he screamed – demanded. The words curdled on his tongue, made him feel angry, made him feel frantic, and he stepped towards the Crow nomu with every intention of burning it if it meant that these feelings might go away. But what would be the point?
The nomu scrambled away from the searing heat of his blue flames, hissing all the while, and it made his gut clench when he realized how much it reminded him of the kid's sensitive little quirk that had caused so much trouble for him.
He didn't charge any further or take another step. His flames fizzled out in his hands, and with it the burst of anger that had ignited it in the first place.
But that was, without a doubt, Tokoyami's voice. A perfect imitation that'd been plucked from his throat. And beyond how jarring the words themselves had been, what was even more rattling was how scared and desperate it had sounded.
Dabi slumped heavily against the wall as the intimidated beast skittered away, seeking refuge behind its twisted brethren without a backwards glance. That thing didn't actually give a shit about him. It wasn't actually Tokoyami, as much as it tried to imitate him. And yet, it still had his voice. Not just a cheap mockery, but his. It had to be.
That had Dabi's thoughts running rampant. While he'd been pacing this cave and whittling away at his patience, that monster had been off doing things without orders. So he had to imagine that it was out there causing havoc. That maybe… it would've run into its real-life inspiration at some point. That the nomu fought him. And heard his voice.
And if he was being honest, the nomu was probably torn to shreds before slinking back to its master. Dabi couldn't imagine Tokoyami losing to that… that thing. He didn't train that kid for fucking nothing.
"You should keep a better leash on your monsters," Dabi eventually snapped, turning his frustration on All for One to cover the fact that he'd been so rudely shaken by the brief exchange. God, he hated it.
All for One wasn't amused. The corners of his mouth shifted into a shriveled frown, and he stared at Dabi with nonexistent eyes. "I have everything under control. Your worry is unnecessary, Toya."
Dabi's skin prickled with unease, and he averted his gaze back down to the cave floor. "I'm not worried," he gritted out in a way that he hoped wasn't entirely unconvincing.
And then the silence stretched on once more, and he was left with his thoughts again.
The nomu's words refused to leave his head, much as he tried to think of anything else. It was just too fucking weird, hearing the kid's voice through the twisted pipes of that abomination. What else had that nomu heard? What more could it say that would catch him off guard? He didn't like not knowing. He didn't want to learn more.
At least he knew that Tokoyami was still alive. And his condemnable emotions told him that he was relieved because of it. But how could that be? When so much had gone wrong when the kid had chosen the side of this fight that he'd always known he would pick? When Dabi had been so filled with anger and remorse, and yet not enough to take it out on the would-be hero?
No. Never that. Dabi had wanted Tokoyami's freedom just as the others had. But in that discreet, hardly spoken way. And now that the kid was, he thought it'd be easier to distance himself.
It wasn't.
Sometimes the little communicator would go off, and Dabi would steal away into the furthest recesses of the cave system to listen. And sure enough, it'd be Tokoyami on the other end, talking to him and updating him. Did he have any idea how dangerous that was, when he was right next to All for One? Not that he could blame the kid – Dabi was the one responsible for leaving these connections behind for him to find.
A part of him had wished that the things he'd left behind in his apartment had gone undiscovered. The fact that they hadn't meant that Tokoyami wasn't able to let go. And the same could be said for Dabi, who'd left them there for his impulsive ex-student to find in the first place.
There were days where he kept the communicator turned off, because he really didn't want to hear Tokoyami through it. He didn't like having to skulk around as much as he did, either, when All for One would blindly watch him with dangerous suspicion. Nobody needed to know. The idea that he was bogged down by a different, more recent part of his life didn't have to be common knowledge. At least this time, he was the one trying to hide these things.
There was a problem though. Even when the connection between him and Tokoyami wasn't turned on, he could still hear his voice at times. This, too, must be a punishment. For not letting him go sooner. For not clipping Hawks's wings before it all went to shit. And so he thought himself mad when he heard the bird and his quirk whispering in the caves of this place. If he looked fast enough, he'd sometimes spot that freaky nomu trailing after him. That must surely be the source.
But as time passed and Dabi retreated deeper into the cave system, he heard the voices whispering again, as if to taunt and condemn him.
Curiously – or maybe stupidly – he followed the sounds, doing well to ignore the way that they made his gut twist in mingled disgust and dread. As the voice neared with every consecutive turn through the carved tunnels, understanding began to take form. This wasn't just the parroted snippets that the nomu had stolen from the bird's mouth. These were full sentences being whispered far from prying ears in a conversation.
Dabi knew that Tokoyami wasn't actually here – that would be asking for a fate worse than death. But the voices were real. And so that dread smoldered into anger, because that was something he was so much better at processing.
Dabi rounded a corner in the cave system with an accusation ready on his tongue.
"Toga, what the hell do you think—"
Tokoyami's face whipped around to face him, eyes blown wide in surprise. From the tattered feathers and unfocused red eyes to the dark attire and deep black cape, it was him.
And behind him was a quirk that was supposed to be Dark Shadow, he was sure. But it wasn't, and he couldn't quite decipher why that was, but still he knew that it was wrong.
Flames curled unbidden in the palms of his hands, and he took a threatening step forward even as he struggled to put his thoughts into words.
"Toga!" he snapped out once more, causing the masquerading girl to flinch back.
The unfamiliarly familiar quirk reared up with a hiss, flashing its claws and hovering protectively over her. Dabi drew a line of fire between them, causing the dreary thing to recoil with a whimper, and it was jarring to him just how little this thing could stand up to his fire compared to the real deal.
"Don't hurt her!" Toga begged, again in that voice. But already, the cheap imitation was beginning to slough off her skin in globs. Feathers melted into viscous sludge, and the quirk sputtered like a dying flame. It made him want to turn away, but he couldn't just do that. The anguished face of that boy remained seared into his mind even after it'd faded from view. It was with a shuttered breath that he clenched his fists, consequently snuffing the flames that had burned so hot.
Toga reached out mournfully to her fake quirk, watching it fade, and he watched the way that dismay morphed easily into resentment in her eyes.
Dabi leaned heavily against a wall for some much-needed support, his voice needlessly strained. "Why do you have his blood?"
Toga slumped to the ground with a scowl. Her eyes were damp as she fought back tears and her chin crinkled with words that couldn't be so easily said. "I didn't steal it from him this time, if that's what you think," she sniffled, drawing her legs to her chest. More often than not, he could find her wearing black clothing that was suspiciously similar to Tokoyami's. It would've been easy to believe that she'd just been smitten by their friendship, but it was never that simple with her. A better image began to click into place as her confessions spilled forth.
They'd been training together in secret. For months, up until the heroes invaded. While he'd been working with Tokoyami to hone other abilities, he'd turned around and taught Toga of all people some of those very same skills. He'd willingly given the obsessive young girl access to a great amount of volatile power.
Considering how much of a pain in the ass it was to work with Tokoyami and Dark Shadow's rocky relationship over the course of half a year, learning that there was a second one made him uneasy. Dark Shadow, at least, was a part of someone who was rational and considerate, if not just a bit unsound like the rest of them (a fact that Dabi admitted to himself he was probably mostly responsible for). But for Toga to take his image and use his quirk…
Fucking hell, what was the kid thinking?
At least it was only ever temporary. He didn't want to see Toga get hurt from her newest obsession. He didn't want to see Tokoyami's image get slandered more than it already was, now that the kid was finally back where he needed to be, either. He'd thought for sure that Toga would be too preoccupied with the blood of their fallen friend that he'd given to her upon reuniting from their fights. Twice's blood was a vial that she held onto like a sacred serum that would solve all her problems.
Tokoyami's blood was a medicine to keep her loneliness at bay and remind her of her own strength.
The longer Dabi stayed in that cave, listening to Toga gush about her power and her quirk – "Night Bite," she called it, as if it was its own distinct thing – the more he felt despair creep up on him. Why was it so fucking hard to let that kid go? Why did he find himself agreeing with Toga's inability to treat Tokoyami like a traitorous hero that they'd have to fight one day? She still talked about him with such heavy, downtrodden fondness. The kid didn't owe them anything. Dabi would pay the price for his actions, same as he always had. When this slow-ass plan of All for One's finally came to fruition and they had to fight again, he hoped Tokoyami didn't hold back against them.
If he did, then Dabi wouldn't be able to—
He couldn't just—
Dabi had stopped expressing his disapproval, the longer Toga rambled on about their secret training. She hadn't talked this much in a long time – and never had she opened up to him like this. She'd always just been tolerable at best. They all were. The same way Natsu had tolerated Toya keeping him up at night with talk of being a hero and training harder, so many forgettable years ago.
"It helps. Having someone to talk to that you know you can trust," Toga went on. "I… I won't be able to see her for much longer – do you think Night Bite will miss me?" Her eyes filled with sadness, and yet she didn't seem burdened by the thought. "I hope she doesn't. I hope she hasn't learned what rejection feels like yet. I don't want to leave her with that feeling when his blood is gone. But what I have left, I'll save for a special occasion. And then Tokoyami won't have to worry about it ever again."
Dabi leaned his forehead against clasped hands, letting the information wash over him like frigid river currents. "Do you want more of his blood?" he dared to ask, knowing the implications.
Her voice was soft and hesitant as it answered. "I… do. But I also want his happiness."
Dabi took a breath. "Do you want to be him?"
"I think this time I want to be myself."
Dabi considered that very seriously. He tried to change tact – bring it back to battle. To winning. "Toga. Are you able to use my quirk through Sad Man's Parade yet?" he asked, stressing the words. So far, the only quirks she was able to actually use belonged to Twice and that U.A. girl she was so hung up on. At least, he'd thought that'd been the extent of her love. Even though she would say with all her heart that she loved her friends, which by now consisted only of Shigaraki, Spinner… and him. It wasn't enough to fulfill the requirements of her quirk.
Toga dropped her face onto her arms, concealing her expression. In the silence that followed, all she could do was shake her head.
She couldn't do it.
Air. He needed some air to breathe. And a better place to not think than this cramped fucking cave. It felt like something was wrong with them, and it wasn't something he could ignore or ignite.
He pushed himself up to his feet. "You've been cooped up too long," he complained, without sounding all that bothered. Toga hummed dismally as she dragged her knife through the dirt. But he at least had her attention. "Talking to yourself and sneaking around to play with shadows, that's not very exciting."
Toga crossed her arms over her chest with a pout. "Did you have something better in mind? All for One doesn't want us making a scene when we're supposed to be in hiding."
Of course he didn't. But Dabi had never been very good with those sorts of plans. If that mastermind really had everything figured out, then he probably didn't actually care what Dabi did in his free time. He's pretty sure that was how that worked, anyway.
"Let's go out somewhere. Light some shit on fire. Be yourself, or whatever it is you wanna be." The bold suggestion left his mouth so easily, and he realized just how much he wanted this once it was out in the open.
Toga looked up at him with wide, cat-like eyes. "Go? Go where?"
"Anywhere you want – I really don't care, as long as it gets us out of here for the night."
She sheathed her knife and slowly pulled herself back onto her feet. "Should we take Spinner? Do you think All for One will care?"
Dabi's eyes darted to the side, and he brushed his bangs out of his face only for them to fall back into place. "Spinner's… busy. Looking after the leader. It should probably just be us this time." He shrugged as if it made little difference, when really he just didn't want to be confronted about his decision-making. "I dunno, maybe next time?" If there was a next time. Despite his previous impatience, he could tell that the days leading into the next phase of the Master's plans wouldn't last much longer. There was a trigger that needed to be pulled, and the finger was hovering awfully close by now.
Shigaraki's body was healing into something that was uncomfortable to look at. Spinner spent most of his time with it than not. At this point, there wasn't really anything to be done about it. It wasn't his place to intervene, anyway.
But he did still want to take control of his life, what little remained of it. To that end, he wasn't going to let anyone get in the way of doing what he wanted.
And right now, he wanted to do the one thing he was good at.
Dabi and Toga slinked away from the caves without Spinner noticing. He hadn't expected that she would take him to her old childhood home – a somber, unnecessary memory if ever he'd seen one. They'd taken to the city under the cover of night to feel better. It seemed instead that she was punishing herself by looking back on a past of misery. The house and the slander graffitied onto it brought no comfort.
So Dabi had done what he'd always done when faced with memories of his past that he strongly detested.
He burned it. He burned it all down in a blazing conflagration, so that Toga would never have to look at it and feel sad ever again.
And he liked to think that she did seem a bit more chipper as they walked away from the scene.
As the heat at their backs began to fade, the communicator in his pocket crackled to life. For a split second, he could hear Tokoyami's voice. His hand rushed to his pocket, smothering the device and turning it off before anything could be discerned.
Toga turned back to face him, her toothy smile slipping. "Did you say something?" Her eyes reflected the blue fires they were leaving behind.
Dabi was slow to respond, but quick to pick up the pace, hastening them to leave the area. "Nope. Not at all."
This was not the time. He knew it was risky being such highly sought after villains roaming the streets in the shitty part of town, but that hadn't bothered him enough to object to the address Toga had suggested. On the other hand, running into him… That wasn't something he was prepared for. Not now, and maybe not ever. But certainly not when he and Toga were trying so hard to move forward the only way he knew how: by burning the past.
Moving forward had never been his strong suit, but he was selfish like that. Dabi was a bit too quick to refer back to the last real, tangible connection he had to Tokoyami when they'd returned to the cave.
All for One was in a meeting with some of his pawns, planning for the next few days. Shigaraki was… spreading, for lack of a better word. The nomu were skulking about, whispering snippets of sentences and growling at nothing. And Spinner was pacing fretfully in the main supply room, his chewed nails digging into his arms.
"Where were you two?" he hissed, upon seeing their return.
"A welcome back would've been nice," Dabi drawled out sarcastically. Ever the helpful one.
Toga supplied a bit more of an answer. "Just finishing up some old business. Nothing exciting, really." When Spinner didn't look convinced, she turned the confrontation back to him. "How's Tomura?"
Dabi watched the way Spinner's eyes darted to the side, avoiding them. "Good. Good. Yeah, no, he's… he's piecing himself back together just fine." His voice softened to a whisper. "At least, I think it's still him."
Dabi tuned it out and began to walk away. He didn't really want to hear it. Toga and Spinner watched his back as it grew farther from them, their conversation stumbling to a halt without his investment.
He'd see their leader for whatever it was he wanted to be sometime soon. He wondered if Shigaraki would even be recognizable in his metamorphic state.
Later on that day, Dabi would hide himself away in the deepest recesses of the caves and turn on the communicator again. Consider it one of those insufferable weaknesses that seemed to be bogging him down lately. He didn't know what he was supposed to be hearing anymore, but what came through from the other end caught him off guard in a way that few things were ever supposed to. And yet it felt as though these combating feelings were tearing through him more and more as of late, and he'd never been handed the means to understand them.
He'd gone years feeling detached from the world that had left him for dead and had moved on too fast. He hadn't even truly noticed when he'd started to feel grounded in reality again, only for the ground to be uprooted beneath his feet.
Mourning the loss of someone besides himself had felt much like that. Knowing he didn't have to be alone had been an oddly comforting assurance.
It'd been less than two weeks since him and Toga had returned to the ruins of the Gunga Villa to give Twice a proper send-off. Spinner had stayed behind for Shigaraki's sake, but he'd known what they were doing and had bid them good luck.
Now they weren't the only ones to leave something at Twice's grave.
Dabi listened quietly as Tokoyami settled himself in front of the meager shrine they'd left behind for a villain who very few would remember as a friend. He laid on his back, staring up at a dark dirt ceiling, as Tokoyami voiced his grievances and begged forgiveness to someone who could speak no longer.
When Tokoyami began talking about them – the living, breathing members of the League of Villains that he still wanted to see for some godforsaken reason – Dabi moved to turn off the device. If this was something Tokoyami was serious about, then he'd rather hear it in person for himself.
And so Dabi laid in the dark, staring at nothing and listening instead to the sound of his heart pulsing dully in his ears. It was more comfortable this way, even if it did nothing to resolve the ugly anticipation for the future that kept his flames hot.
Dabi did, eventually, turn that damn thing back on, even if he had long since regretted leaving it for Tokoyami in the first place. Dabi's need to be present in all things was loathsome, but he didn't have a whole lot going for him right now. It was either listen to the jumbled sounds on the other end of the communicator, or mull over his own thoughts and feed his need to make things right in the world that he wanted to see. Either option was met with frustration, though. Nothing was as clear as it was supposed to be. Both literally and metaphorically.
Ugh. I'm just in his pocket right now. He must be on patrol.
Dabi chose to ignore it for now. His hands were itching with unlit flames, and he made his way towards one of the untouched sections of tunnel where he knew he wouldn't be bothered to let off some steam. Here, the walls were charred black with ash. Here, he felt the most at home, in a twisted sort of way that suggested that to be on fire was to be alive.
Dabi had quickly found out that if he did too much, then his body would deteriorate at a rate much faster than ever before. He'd be more concerned if he didn't already expect it. More than that, though, he didn't want to cool down too much before the war picked up again. He wasn't going to burn the whole area to the ground, but he had to do something in this place. Doing it outside always attracted unwanted attention, and he'd hate to see what the backup hideout for this place was like, wherever that was.
But as he was getting ready to light his flesh ablaze, something changed on the other end of the little device. He couldn't quite decide what about it was different. Against his best interests, he paused to listen.
A god-awful sound, muffled and staticy, came through from the other end. With a jolt, he realized that it sounded like a scream from the beak of his ex-student. Dabi hurriedly slinked deeper into the cave network, away from any potentially prying ears. By all rights, he shouldn't be that worried. In fact, he wasn't. That damn kid could handle himself just fine. And he was going to have to continue doing so until the day they had to fight each other again. Anything that happened in the meantime was none of his fucking business – he wasn't that kid's handler anymore. Never should've been in the first place. Tokoyami had been in plenty of fights since they'd last parted ways on uncertain terms, and whatever was going on now would be resolved all the same.
If Tokoyami couldn't win a fight before the war started up again, then that was his loss to bear.
So when Dabi took out the little device as he had countless times before, he had an idea of what he might hear. What he got instead struck him in a way that caught him off his carefully protected guard.
Clearly spoken, directly into the speaker, was a frantic voice flooded with fear. "Dabi! Dabi, help me, please! The CRC's gonna—"
Tokoyami?
Something fierce and unkind stabbed its way into his guts, leaving him with an unexpected spell of nausea. Compelled by some outside force, he held the device up to his mouth, as if meaning to respond. But he couldn't say anything. What could be said?
And so he listened instead, contemplating his own silence. There was overlapping movement coming from the other end, and unfamiliar voices speaking over each other. Then a cut-off scream. And then nothing.
Dabi realized, in the back of his mind, that his hand was shaking. The little communicator in his hand was beginning to melt with the heat he struggled to contain. He numbly pocketed it, not trusting himself to hold it any longer.
The CRC. That was… those were cultists. Those guys were bat-shit insane, even by villain standards. It was Spinner that had made it a point to list them as an enemy of their rag-tag team of degenerates, back when they were first starting out. Dabi had never had to worry about the clan himself, but he knew what they were like. He knew how dangerous they were. Because they were coordinated and, despite changing times, widespread.
And they'd chosen Tokoyami as a target.
And, consequently, Tokoyami had turned to him for help.
Dabi cursed Tokoyami just then – his stupid, sentimental, desperate apprentice. If that kid had called out to anyone else, it wouldn't have been an issue. If he'd just tried to beg for help from a hero or someone who could reliably give a damn, then it wouldn't hang over Dabi the way it did now. But he hadn't done that. Even though he was supposed to be with the heroes. Even though he should've relied on people who made it their fucking jobs to help others.
Instead, Tokoyami had taken his one chance to call for help.
And wasted it on a bastard like him.
Dabi raced down the tunnel, thoughts reeling and nerves on fire. He couldn't do it. He couldn't be that person to Tokoyami anymore – never should've been someone worth looking up to in the first place.
But he knew someone who could be.
The frantic villain hardly slowed down as he reached the central supply cave, where the paths split off in several directions. He turned down the one that Shigaraki was holed up in for his recovery, knowing who else he'd find there.
Dabi's too-hot hand grabbed hold of a green-scaled shoulder and yanked him off to the side, behind a stack of boxes. If he listened, he'd be able to hear things skulking about the caves, but right now he didn't want to worry about that.
"Hey, man, what the—!" Spinner stepped back, face fixed in a snarl and eyes wide in surprise.
Dabi barely gave him time to breathe. "Spinner, I need your help," he hissed, with as much quiet and control as he could possibly muster in that moment. This only enhanced the level of surprise that Spinner was experiencing. "It's the Creature Rejection Clan, they—" Dabi stopped suddenly. What the fuck was he doing? They couldn't save people. They could hardly save themselves.
But the League had always at least tried to look out for one another. Even when they inevitably got hurt. Or killed. Or went too far.
Spinner gripped his wrist and leaned in, growing deathly serious. Dabi couldn't feel the contact. "Are they on the move? Are they hurting other mutants? I c-can maybe mobilize some of the PLF – I know they've, uh, been wanting me to be their leader."
Right. Spinner was the kind of person that could bring people together, while promising to look out for them. He was loyal, even if he wasn't all that strong or useful on his own. That was just who he was.
"Spinner, it's… it's Tokoyami," he confessed. The name felt like shrapnel as he spit it from his mouth. "They went after him. They… they got to him. And I dunno how to find him or how to save him, but it can't be me."
Spinner released his hold like the searing hot pan that he was. "Wha— Dabi, how do you know this? Have you…? Have you been keeping contact with him?"
Dabi grit his teeth and swallowed his pride, for the yen it was worth. "Spinner, please. Can you rescue him or not?"
Spinner paced the small space they were hiding in, tangling his fingers through his plume of bright pink hair in frustration. "I can! I… I will. I have connections for stuff like this, I just need some time."
Dabi crossed his arms close to his chest with a scowl. "They're going to kill him."
"And you're not?!" Spinner snapped back.
Dabi's scowl deepened, crinkling the unsightly burns that made up most of his face around the singed skin grafts. "I don't—!" …want to.
He sighed, keeping it to himself. "Look. He's somewhere around Osaka, I'm sure. I'll look after Shigaraki while you're gone. So just… do what you have to, okay? This is the one thing I've ever trusted you with."
Spinner stepped back with a groan. He held a hand to his mouth as if he was about to vomit. "Alright! I hear you! I'll… I'll figure something out, okay?"
And then he was already turning to leave. Dabi really didn't have anything useful to say. It all felt so horribly futile, standing around doing nothing. But that's all he could do.
He'd confided in Spinner, which was more than he'd ever thought he would do. All that remained was to wait things out and hope he did something useful in time.
Dabi watched Spinner go; he was ducking out of the cave with phone in hand, rapidly messaging whatever contacts he had in mind. He could spin this story however he wanted for the heteromorphs awaiting his orders, and they'd be happy to comply – especially if it meant tearing down that outdated cult. It didn't matter what means. Just so long as it was something.
If Tokoyami couldn't hold out until then, well…
Maybe he just wasn't strong enough.
Dabi didn't know when his heart began to thump audibly in his chest. He didn't register the way his breathing picked up, nor the way that the other sounds around him grew dull. He sat down on a crate, body numb, and cradled his head in his hands.
I must be tired, he rationalized. I must be insane, he decided.
He stayed there on that crate, guarding the entrance of Shigaraki's tunnel with a maelstrom of thoughts, and sank deeper into misery.
He was vaguely aware that he was being watched, and he didn't care.
Eventually, Dabi was able to calm down. And wait for an update.
Twelve hours later, he received a ping on his phone.
Lizard: "Mission complete. He should be alright. Coming back now."
Upon Spinner's return, Dabi resisted the urge to pester him with questions. Toga, on the other hand, was far more curious and willing to prod him for information. It'd been bad enough revealing his intact ties with Tokoyami to Spinner, but he did not want Toga knowing – especially after discovering the depths of her feelings for him. Because if that came to light, then there'd be nothing stopping the League from all reaching the same conclusion: they still considered Tokoyami a part of them.
And that was just so fucking asinine, when that kid should be cursing their names from the hero side.
But Dabi should've known better. He'd enabled this when he'd left those things behind at that miserable old apartment for Tokoyami to find. He'd cast a lure, and that fiercely reliable kid had grabbed it so fast that the hook had pierced his hand. If All for One knew about this, he would use it as another opportunity.
He probably already knew.
And yet he really just saw Tokoyami as a minor inconvenience.
"Oh, come on, Shuichi," Toga complained, when faced with Spinner's lack of answers. "You never leave this place. Did you do something bad? Did you let loose a little bit?" She lowered her voice to a purr. "Do you not want the Master to know?'
Spinner folded his arms and turned his body away. He was sweating nervously. "That's not it! I just… need to take my role on this team more seriously! We can't be much farther away from the next stage of fighting, and I want to be ready." He took a breath and forced his calm. "I'm going to do it. I'm going to lead my soldiers into battle. They… they actually respond to me, as if I'm already a leader. Can you believe it?"
Toga thought hard about that, looking him up and down. "I mean, it wouldn't be my first guess."
Spinner deflated, and Toga patted him on the back with a toothy grin. "I'm kidding! Of course you're gonna be a good leader! You care too much to let anyone down."
Spinner glanced up at Dabi, vying for his attention. Dabi did his best to stay out of it. He'd been involved enough as it was. "R…right."
Later on that night, Spinner was summoned back into All for One's personal chambers.
It really wasn't any of Dabi's business what happened between them. But it seemed a bit too timely, and he couldn't shake the thought that whatever was going on was his fault, since he'd instigated a rescue on Tokoyami's behalf. It was weird to think that he'd had good intentions for once in his miserable life. But like all things, that came with a price.
Dabi crept close to the cave entrance, sneering at the nomu that regarded him with indifferent curiosity.
He didn't think anyone actually cared about him sneaking around overhearing trivial bits of conversation. As far as that wrinkly old mastermind was concerned, Dabi would give anything to have his way, which happened to align with the plans at large. And he was still faithful in that regard, but the longer the days dragged on, the more doubt was able to weedle its way into him.
The nomu grumbled his name and hissed little curses under their rank breaths as he leaned against the wall outside the room and listened in.
"If you're going to use Body Bulk, then this one should also help," All for One said, manifesting a power at his fingertips. "Scale Mail. It'll grant you raw strength, heightened defense… and the appearance of a true leader."
When faced with the easy promise of power, Spinner hesitated. "Actually, I was thinking… maybe I only need the one quirk."
The smile dropped from All for One's face, and Spinner rushed to explain better. "I-I mean, not to say it isn't a good suggestion. But really what I was hoping for was just being able to take a hit and… be a bit bigger. I don't wanna go too far with these extra quirks." The image of the multiquirk amalgamations waiting in the shadows came to mind, and Dabi couldn't blame him for declining half of the offer. "And… I may not look like much, but I think I can still make for a good leader. Quirks aren't the only thing that matter in order to be strong, right? I, uh, I made it this far, didn't I?"
The smile in All for One's voice sounded strained, and yet he agreed all the same wth honey-sweet pleasantness. "Of course, Iguchi Shuichi. I understand where you're coming from. So go ahead and step forward, and I'll give you your new quirk."
Distrust gnawed its way through Dabi, settling at the bottom of his gut alongside the heavy feeling of dread that he'd been carrying with him for a while now. He held still and bit his tongue, but all the while he found himself thinking: you don't actually believe that, do you?
Dabi cursed himself for snooping in the first place. It was too late now to turn the other way and pretend he was never here.
The low chortle of a nomu from behind seemed to agree with him.
He listened in quiet as Spinner stepped forward to accept his new power. He paid attention to how Spinner gasped and struggled, bearing the new weight placed upon his shoulders. He fought the urge to cover his ears as the screaming began, and Spinner fell to the ground.
Dabi could not, however, keep himself out of it like he'd wanted. He turned on his heel, hand braced against the entryway, and watched with eyes wide at the view he was greeted with.
Spinner was convulsing on the ground. Froth formed at the corners of his mouth, and his eyes began to bug out of his skull. His flesh bulged and writhed like there were parasites burrowing beneath his muscles, and Spinner sank his claws into the thin layer of dirt for any sort of stability.
It was admittedly a difficult scene to witness, wrought with agony and a lack of understanding. Most people didn't know the levels of pain a quirk could bring. In that moment, Dabi struggled to choke back the shred of sympathy that threatened to rise to the surface. At the same time, he refused to look away.
All for One, to his credit, seemed bored by Spinner's anguished struggles. "Relax. This is a perfectly natural reaction. You two would know as much from seeing how my new vessel has been stitching itself back together."
Dabi did his best to maintain an uncaring face. This was all just part of the process. "...That makes sense," he dutifully agreed. And still he found himself frowning.
Spinner's muscles bulged and strained, becoming host to the new power. His bones groaned, to the point of nearly snapping, and his clothes were pulled taut by how his body grew in size. That must be the Body Bulk quirk.
Then, as Dabi continued to watch with mingled disgust and uncertainty, Spinner's body was altered further. Sharp crimson plates the size of hands pierced easily through the reptile's skin, causing blood to weep from each freshly carved wound. He thrashed with renewed intensity, though his screaming faded into whimpers. His body twitched and spasmed, and he curled in further on himself in the fetal position as the scales traveled along his whole body.
That was Scale Mail.
Dabi took a wary step back as Spinner continued to grow in size and strength. He could practically see the lizard's mind being turned to mush through the process. It bothered a part of him that resented what his own quirk had turned him into.
Fucking monsters, every last one of us.
Dabi curled his lip in disdain, and his gut clenched with a spark of anger. "I thought he only wanted one quirk."
"You overheard that, did you?" All for One hummed, resting his chin in one hand. "Yes, I suppose he did, now. But oftentimes, people of his, ah, caliber don't truly understand what they need. I simply made the decision for him, knowing what was best."
He shouldn't decide that for someone else.
Dabi swallowed his anger. He pushed aside the repressed horror he'd felt when he'd woken up in a hospital after being a charred corpse and been assured that he'd been taken care of. That someone else had deemed it necessary that there was still a good use for him.
"Is something wrong, Toya? You don't seem very happy with Shuichi's new powers. Is there anything you wanted to say?" He leaned back with a disingenuous smile. "I'm all ears."
Dabi looked away. From the master on his throne. From the pawn on the ground. "Nah. I'm good. It's not that big of a deal."
A shuttered whine left Spinner's mouth, and when he glanced back, it was to see a bloody, red-scaled hand reaching shakily towards him.
"...You're probably right. It's what he wanted."
And he retreated down the corridor.
Coward. Fucking coward. That dumb cosplayer helped you, and you couldn't even stand up for him.
He must be to blame for this. All for One was no fool, and to take him as such for even a second was a fatal mistake. Dabi had sent Spinner out on an unauthorized mission. And he'd come back feeling more confident in what he could do. But that wasn't what All for One needed. He needed tools that were easily malleable and dependent on him to feel strong.
The thought rekindled his anger, and he stopped in his tracks upon realizing that it was a fiery rage that wasn't directed at his own repulsive father.
This situation was no better.
Perhaps there was no outcome left in this world that would quell the hate he had for the current state of things. No matter where he stood, he was bound to be faced with people that deserved to suffer. And people who never should've been hurt in the first place.
Just a few more days. A few more days and it would all be over. He would make sure of it. However this was all resolved, things would be different, and he'd never again have to see the world for how it was now.
The thought was both exhilarating and dreary.
All for One was moving his pieces again. Shigaraki, or whoever the hell he was now, was up and about, ready to break free of this place the moment the word was given. Spinner was adjusting to his new quirks; his thoughts were slowed as they played catch up, but his body was strong, and that was what actually mattered.
Toga swayed through the tunnels like a widow's ghost, haunting this place with her hopes and dreams firmly instilled in the blood she possessed.
Dabi felt himself to be festering in both body and mind. He was certain that it would all culminate into something more unsightly than he already was, and he'd come to terms with that. There was something egregious about the steps he'd taken in life to reach this point in time, and there was little else to look forward to than the end of it all.
But that damn, persistent little idea in the back of his mind wouldn't leave him. That maybe there were still people in this world worth saving.
If he didn't make it through the next few days, then at least he wouldn't have to feel that wretchedness he'd felt when Twice had been killed at his feet. He wouldn't have to mourn the loss of his miserable company, when they, too, lost themselves to their own blinded ambition.
Clarity was a concept that was lost on them. He'd rather let instinct take over from here, if it kept the fires stoked and his doubts in check.
Once All for One had that all-powerful quirk he desired so much, nothing would matter anyway. It was the kind of nihilism that was comforting, in an odd sense. If this outcome was set in stone, and life was already so painfully unbearable, then what was there to look forward to beyond the promise of a blood-soaked victory?
He'd gone so long after death not having any connections tethering him. Nobody reliable or even tolerable enough to stay around for long. And yet here he was still, with the last of the League, still clinging onto something.
He couldn't bring himself to eat. Water hurt when it passed through his lips, and it dampened his flames anyway. His hair was starting to fall out, and it was becoming harder to take care of himself the longer the inevitable was prolonged. There were only so many reasons why he'd ever want to do better, and right now he wanted to bury them all.
So then why. Why was he still holding onto his connection to Tokoyami?
Dabi stared dully down at the communicator. He'd been holding it so much that it had begun to warp with heat, and it stuttered with every noise. He'd almost given up on it – the stupid little thing had been silent since the run-in with that cult. It'd probably been broken. Or taken. And yet he'd held onto it all the same, just in case something came through from the other end.
He felt like he was stupid for it, and ridiculed himself for clinging to it like a lifeline when there was nothing left worth preserving. But at the same time, he couldn't rid himself of that fleeting feeling of relief he'd received when he'd known that the kid was safe. That he'd asked him for help, and he was able to do something about it.
Anger never actually felt good. His desperate need for revenge would only feed into the filthy sense of satisfaction that might excuse him for turning out like this. He accepted as much.
And so he damned his traitorous emotions when the device crackled, and his heart skipped a beat just to know that Tokoyami was still there. Living his life. That it hadn't been robbed from him somewhere along the way. That Dabi hadn't ruined him.
Dabi listened to the voice on the other end. Dark Shadow was there, too – of course he was. But nobody else. Despite being back with the heroes again, those two had found someplace far from that world. Despite another chance, Tokoyami had dragged himself back into a place of darkness, where only the worst would go.
Once again, Dabi had to take responsibility. He was the one that'd left them the key to such a desolate place, if ever the kid needed an answer to something he couldn't say himself.
And so he sat in the cave, where nobody would overhear, and paid attention to everything that Tokoyami had to say. His frets and woes. His doubts and insecurities. The feeling that he wasn't enough.
And that made Dabi angry. But in a way that felt so different from the hate he'd kept stoking for so very long. It took him a while to understand why. When it clicked, he felt it stab him like a rejection.
Tokoyami didn't find himself capable enough to go forward, with the prospect of a bitter battle looming on the horizon. But if that were the case, then what had all those months of training been for? Why struggle so long and bleed so much if you didn't think yourself stronger for managing to come out of it alive? Scars and all, it was still worth something.
Tokoyami paused just then, if only to breathe a ragged sigh. "You're probably not listening anymore," he said with a great deal of sorrow. "But I… don't know what else to do, the way I am right now." And then he spoke his plan aloud, for only Dark Shadow and Dabi to hear. A most inconsiderate, reckless, stupid plan that made his blood run cold and reignited the one fear he had while looking after this gloomy high schooler and his overpowered sentient quirk. The mere thought of Tokoyami ending up like that whitened the edges of his vision as a wave of emotions crashed down upon him, smothering all else he'd been struggling to build.
Dabi sat in the midst of a doused fire pit, feeling for the first time just how cold these caves actually were. He brought the communicator to his mouth and unmuted himself for the first, only, and last time.
"Don't do it."
Before he could get a response, Dabi closed the device in the palm of his hand and fried it. That was the most he could do to satiate those two-sided feelings burning inside him. What happened to Tokoyami from this point on was beyond his control.
They both had to take matters into their own hands now. Regardless of what the kid decided, Dabi would be there at the dawn of a new war. And he wouldn't let anyone stop him from reaching his goal.
Dabi's head sank into his hands, where his nails dug into his scalp. He couldn't wait to be seen, with the same realization that he dreaded to see the outside. He prayed that maybe he'd done something good for once in his shitty life.
As darkness closed in from every side, it occurred to him that he was finally alone.