….
It's been a whole week after the sports festival, U.A. had settled back into the regular grind.
Classes ran on schedule, and the first years had moved on to hero information studies - specifically, picking their hero names.
Midnight and Aizawa were handling that one.
Dabi was in the faculty room.
He was sitting in his chair with his legs up on his desk and his mask off, head tipped back, eyes closed.
Eri was curled against his chest with her face pressed into his shirt, completely out.
Her breathing had that slow, heavy quality little kids get when they are deep enough under that you could probably set off fireworks and they would just roll over.
"Here." Cementos came in through the side door and went straight to All Might's desk.
A new nomination had come through for a first-year student, for Izuku Midoriya, specifically.
Unlike in the show, where Izuku keeps breaking his body to use his quirk, here he has learned Full Cowl and doesn't injure himself nearly as often. Because of that, he receives far more offers than he normally would.
"Thank you, Cementos." All Might perked up, pulled up the file with clear satisfaction, until his expression shifted into something more complicated when he saw the name attached to the nomination.
He walked back to his seat… a bit defeated.
Dabi, who had not opened his eyes through any of this, said. "It's Nighteye?"
All Might looked at him.
"Yeah." He rubbed his face with one bony hand. "My old friend. Mirai Sasaki - Sir Nighteye. Of all the people, I... hah." The laugh that came out was thin and didn't have any humor in it. "I should have expected this, shouldn't I?"
"What are you thinking of doing?"
"Well, that's the thing, I haven't quite… I mean, it could be a genuine–"
"So you don't want to send the kid to him."
"Dabi, it isn't about my willingness." All Might's voice dropped a register. "You are well aware that the reason behind this nomination might not be to help Midoriya."
Dabi opened his eyes and looked at All Might for a long moment.
True. He understood.
Nighteye had spent years urging All Might to retire, warning that his body couldn't endure much longer and that the clock was running out. All Might refused to listen.
Then, instead of passing One For All to the successor Nighteye had carefully 'identified', he gave it to a quirkless kid named Izuku Midoriya - someone with zero combat experience at the time and a habit of crying whenever people were nice to him.
In Nighteye's eyes, Midoriya was the wrong choice.
"So it's the old man, then?" Dabi said.
The only person he ever called that was Gran Torino.
"Yes! Yes, I think so." All Might said, straightening as he latched onto the idea. "Master Gran Torino trained me, and if anyone can help Midoriya understand One For All at a fundamental level, it's him, the boy could learn a great deal there."
"That pile of bones has nothing to teach." Dabi muttered, shifting Eri's weight slightly so she wouldn't slide. "And let's not even get into his memory. I honestly can't tell if he is faking it or not because he apparently doesn't remember me at all, but he remembers Eri just fine." He smoothed a hand over Eri's head, and she didn't stir.
All Might fell silent, thinking it through.
Gran Torino was getting old, and asking him to take on a student now, to train Midoriya in something this important–
"And his agency?" Dabi added, clearly not finished. "It's not even a proper building, just an old house, no matter how much he renovates it, with bad plumbing and a kitchen that reeks of taiyaki grease. I have told him to move in with me, but he won't budge." he said, keeping his voice low and his body still so he wouldn't disturb Eri.
All Might sighed, clearly at a loss, until his expression shifted, that familiar hopeful look forming, the kind that usually preceded a terrible idea, as he turned to Dabi and met his gaze in silence.
Dabi shook his head. "Nope. Nope nope nope. Never."
"Now hold on, just, hear me out for a moment–"
"I don't have an agency." he repeated, using the same excuse he had given Shoto.
"I… well…" All Might deflated further, somehow managing it even in his gaunt form. "That's… true, but it would have been a tremendous help for Young Midoriya." he added, scratching his jaw. "Working alongside someone of your caliber, and your team, I believe the boy would have flourished."
The team he meant was - Stain, Spinner, Twice, La Brava, and Gentle - running an agency that Stain had set up and Dabi had deliberately kept his name off of.
He worked with them when necessary, though officially he wasn't part of it.
Which raised the obvious question of how Dabi actually supported himself if he didn't have an agency or a regular hero gig.
He still needs money to buy food and have a roof on top of his head.
Well, if you didn't know, working as an underground hero isn't all that bad. It actually pays better than most public Hero work.
Even now, being an assistant teacher at U.A., wasn't a position to underestimate financially, and beyond that, Rumi herself was the number five Hero in Japan.
She earned more than enough for two adults and a small child who mostly ate rice and fruit and the occasional ice cream cone if she had been particularly well-behaved at the grocery store.
So yeah, his retirement plan is moving along nicely, with no brakes.
Unless he and Rumi suddenly decide they want kids - which obviously they don't as of now.
Maybe once the plot finishes.
He had drifted far off the original topic, and while sending Midoriya to Stain didn't sound like the worst idea, that unruly group wasn't exactly suited to teaching something like this.
"Just send him to Nighteye." Dabi said.
All Might looked at him.
"They are both nerds, perfectly suited for each other." Dabi said, adjusting Eri and tucking her head more securely under his chin. "And honestly, setting aside their shared obsession with you, Nighteye could actually help him with One For All - get him ready for what's coming. He is smart, and so Midoriya… let them figure it out together."
"Though before any of that, the kid needs Nighteye's acknowledgement, and you are seriously saying you can't trust Midoriya with something that simple?"
All Might nodded, though the look on his face suggested he was still deep in his own thoughts as the faculty room door opened and Aizawa and Midnight walked in looking like they'd just survived something.
Midnight headed straight for Dabi's desk, already reaching out. "Come on, give me sweet Eri, I need to recharge, I am running on empty."
"She is sleeping…." Dabi said, angling his shoulder away. "Don't wake her."
"And how did it go?" he added. "The naming session seemed productive."
Midnight made a noise that could only be described as spiritual exhaustion. "These problem children are something else, especially Bakugo."
Dabi grinned. "Well, yeah. I would have put money on him not being able to come up with a hero name that didn't use the words 'explosion', 'murder' and 'kill' in some combination."
"Don't laugh." Aizawa dropped into his chair. He looked like he had aged a year in forty-five minutes. "It's not funny, and as an assistant teacher you always dump the most annoying things on me."
"That's what assistants do, they assist by not being there."
He added. "But yeah, don't worry about Bakugo. I will have someone else straighten him out."
"Then what about your brother?" Midnight asked, and her voice had that particular tone people used when they were trying to describe something they still hadn't fully processed. "Shoto. How was he even… I mean, does he have any social skills at all? Any? Even basic ones? The things a person needs to just, like, exist in a room with other people?"
Dabi could guess what had happened. Shoto had probably just written his own first name on the board and sat back down.
"Well." Dabi said. "Can't really blame me for that one."
The faculty room door slammed open.
Present Mic stood in the doorway, one hand on the handle, and at full volume. "WAIT!! Shoto Todoroki is Dabi's brother?"
He drew in a breath to continue, then stopped.
Every head in the room had turned toward him at once - Midnight, Aizawa, All Might, Dabi - all wearing the same precise irritation of people whose quiet had just been shattered.
Because the little girl on Dabi's chest had woken.
Eri lifted her head, one eye scrunched, a small hand pressed to her ear while the other clutched his jacket, looking confused, unhappy, and seconds from tears.
Mic's mouth stayed open, but nothing came out as his gaze flicked from Eri to the four adults, and back again.
.
….
[To be continued…]
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