#atds

Chapter 24: Icarus Takes Flight

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Previous Chapters: 23, 22, 21, 20, 19, 18, 17, 16, 15, 14, 13, 12, 11, 10, 9, 8, 7, 6, 5, 4, 3, 2, 1

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Geten knew she was rusty the minute she raised the lake of ice. In the same way muscles atrophied after unuse, her quirk felt, ironically, as if it were thawing after being frozen for a century. 

Her cryokinesis was sluggish, rigid. The ice body jerked forward and stalled as she attempted a simple levitation towards her. Finally, she returned the ice to the snaking gap in the ground where the water had been. 

She scowled. Despite doing simple manipulation exercises during her hospitalisation, using whatever ice cubes she had, it wasn’t enough — wouldn’t be enough to go up against the might of the entire army. 

As she allowed the bottom of the lake to melt back into water —  something she could still do just as well, to her relief, the thought struck her immobile for a few seconds. That is, after all, what I am seeking, yes? Freedom from this place and its people.

But I am still not strong enough. People as strong as Shingu Takame existed amongst the ranks of the advisors, and perhaps even the common soldiery. If she were to fight multiple of them concurrently, she could be…

Flashes of Mihara Takame’s corpse sent a shiver down her spine. 

“Killed.” She whispered. 

“Who?” Hawks’ voice gave her a reeling shock, creating a barrier of ice out of instinct. Upon registering it as his voice, she lowered it with a scowl. 

“Don’t do that,” She said. 

“My bad,” Hawks replied. “Who died?” 

“It’s nothing of importance.” 

“If you say so.” From his coat, he pulled out a half-eaten packet of chips. He offered one to her, who declined with a wrinkle in her expression and a shake of her head. 

“So, training for the Festival?” He observed. 

“Yes.” She still had to keep up appearances. “Why aren’t you asleep? It’s quite late.”

“Still have some errands to run. Just taking a break to catch up with you, if you don’t mind.”

“It doesn’t matter to me.” She sat on a constructed ice-bench, to which Hawks followed suit.

“Cool. Quick question, why do you always have your hood on?” He munched on more chips. 

“Not always.” She shot back. 

“Ah, you know what I mean.” Even though his tone sounded playful and curious, there was a sharpness in his words that pierced through all pretence.

“I do,” She conceded, “But I don’t want to share that with you. I hope you’re not offended.” 

Hawks waved his hand. “All good, I get it.” And he let the subject die. But the topic only grew like a fungus in her mind, until the question – innocent-sounding as it was, brought her back into her memories.

“Who am I? Apocrypha, a weapon for the Liberation Army.” That was what she said, and a statement she once lived by. 

“A sword has no need for a name any more than a stray dog does.” The words she had spoken with such conviction in front of Shigaraki – perhaps in hindsight, an act of bravado in the face of destruction incarnate…

She made herself shiver. Yet she lived by this doctrine imposed upon her, which she reinforced herself all those years. 

Till now. 

She reached up and pulled down her hood. Besides her, Hawks raised an eyebrow. 

“All right, I get it,” He chuckled. “Not all the time.” 

Geten returned a small smile. He wouldn’t understand. Her focus shifted to the pair of crimson wings on his back. 

“Where did you train?” Geten said aloud the question rising to her mouth. “Did you go to…” What was it called? “A school?”

“Not me. I was...special, you could say.” His tone took on some solemnity. 

“So you trained under a mentor, like myself?”

“You could say that.” Hawks said, after a pause. 

“He must have been good, for you to attain such a high hero ranking, in the public eye.” 

“Ha!” He burst out. “Almost too good...too good for me.”

Geten recognised that look. It was her own expression whenever she stared herself in the mirror as a young child, after she’d finished writing in her journal. Childish habits.

“It was difficult, was it not?” She felt a strange connection between her and him. It was sympathy, to an extent, but not the same way her spiteful past self viewed her inferior soldiers. She sympathised with Hawks, but she also understood his pains of training. Was there some word for it? She couldn’t grasp it.

“You got me. It was. Really was.” 

A silence. Geten was unsure what to say.

Eventually, she said, “I went through something similar, though you must’ve realised that by now, given our last conversation.”

Hawks nodded. After another moment had passed, he said, “I had a friend who went through the same thing with me. He was a fun person. He made things easier.” 

“That’s good,” She said softly.

Hawks must’ve caught the look on her face which she tried to conceal. “Sorry, didn’t mean to make you feel bad.”

Geten waved it off. “He sounds like a nice person. What happened to him?” 

“We’ve went our separate ways. But I think you would’ve liked him.” 

“Perhaps I might meet him someday. Is he a hero?”

Hawks shrugged. That was all he did. 

“At any rate, all that training...Seems like it’s biting me in my ass now, what with the Festival and my assigned task,” He said. 

“Your...Oh.” She recalled it. 

Shigaraki had given the lieutenants and Hawks a more in-depth briefing just this morning, right after Geten left the hospital. There, he assigned groupings and explained his strategies to annex the cities they were to strike, taking out the heroes on guard there and keeping the populace under control. Suspiciously, he gave Dabi a job to be on the backline during the Festival, along with Apocrypha, which meant that Dabi’s other assignment was more secretive than she thought. 

As to what Hawk’s mission was, it was to keep up appearances. Shigaraki ordered Hawks to fight as a hero, against the invading Liberation soldiers. That way, his cover would be maintained, and he could continue infiltrating the Commission. 

“What about it?”

“To fight against people I would consider peers, and with the abilities that the Hero Commission know I have, they’ll expect me to round them up quickly, which means I’d be dooming them to prison. The total opposite to liberation.” Hawks sighed. “I feel horrible.” 

She responded, “They’ll understand. It’s for the greater good.” In other words, they would be so brainwashed they would accept come what may. But she didn’t say that. Judging from Hawks’ creased expression, he seemed troubled by his role in the Festival. 

“For Destro.” She said. 

Hawks looked at her. “For Destro,” He echoed. Standing up, he let his wings spread, pocketing the empty packet. 

“Thanks for keeping me company. I’ve gee to gee. Make sure you get some sleep, you did just recover fully.” He flashed a smile.

“Gee to gee?” 

“Got to go. It’s a shorter way to say it.” 

“But they have the same number of syllables. That’s illogical.” She argued.

Hawks chuckled again, not offering a reply to that, before ascending. 

“See you on Monday! Festival’s going to be great!” Hawks shouted, and then he sped off into the night sky. 

Geten resumed her training, feeling slightly better. At the same time, she tried to push away the thought that one day, when she had abandoned the Liberation Front, it could be Hawks that would be dragging her back into the clutches, and they would have to fight. 

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Hi, I don’t have much of an excuse. I said a few days and it ended up at least a week and then some. I could get into a rant on writer’s block but you’ve seen it all. Really sorry. Am hoping to make it up to you guys with the next chapter which should be an appropriate dose of Dabiten fluff and angst. Our usual orders as a fandom, I suppose. 

Shoutout to kannra21, kerasion, novella12nite and avirabbit (I know there are others but I just remember these few of you, sorry! ><) for still sticking with this story despite everything. 

Chapter 23: A Beating Heart

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Previous Chapters: 22, 21, 20, 19, 18, 17, 16, 15, 14, 13, 12, 11, 10, 9, 8, 7, 6, 5, 4, 3, 2, 1

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“Are you feeling better?” Geten’s head whirled around at the unexpected question to break the silence. Dabi was trailing behind with his hands in his pockets, glancing around. 

“Chest hurts less and I can walk without limping. So the answer would be yes,” She said. After a pause, she continued, “What about your injury?” 

“Good.” 

“That’s...good to know,” She responded, relieved that she was at the front so Dabi couldn’t see her heated face. How was she to respond to that? It was the first time that she asked someone about their condition, or was even concerned about them. 

She only quickened her pace back to the hotel, hoping to start talking about the more important matters at hand that had been on her mind for the past few days. 

“Wait, we’re going to your place? You still live at that hotel?” Dabi seemed to recognise the street that lead back to the temporary lodgings in the aftermath of the first Resurrection Festival.

“Yes, although I haven’t actually returned there in a while because of everything that has happened.” 

“Why haven’t you moved back to the mansion?”

She tensed up. So much had happened that she forgot the lurking threats within the PLF. Takame was unanticipated. Skeptic, Trumpet and possibly Yotsubashi seemed to be watching her, identifying her as a rogue weed in the garden. Trumpet in particular made his intentions clear when he held her at gunpoint. 

Then a thought came to her like a silent blizzard. Why wouldn’t her room be under Skeptic’s gaze? Suddenly the Deika City Hotel looked darker under the night sky. 

“Actually, can we go there instead? You live in one of the rooms, right?” She halted, her eyes darting around to see the numerous street cameras, functioning both to catch speeding vehicles and as Chikazoku’s mechanical eyes. 

Dabi bristled, but he followed her gaze to also notice how exposed they were. 

“So you’re that paranoid, huh?” He whispered. “How much of a threat is he?”

“I don’t wish to take any chances.” 

Dabi gestured for her to follow, walking back the way they came. He said nothing until they reached the gates, and a nauseating feeling arose in Geten’s gut, crawling up her spine like a centipede, reaching her head. The sight of Re-destro’s inheritance triggered this, along with more memories. 

In the centre of the courtyard where the two were striding across, Geten watched a team of construction workers assemble a statue of Shigaraki. In its place was once a similar statue of Re-destro. She had a feeling the Grand Commander could not care less about useless monuments built to honour him, but the idea was, now that she thought about it, definitely Yotsubashi’s. 

The statue was intimidating, portraying Shigaraki with all his disembodied hands, sitting atop his throne in a lanky manner, his elbow on the armrest and his face resting on his fist. She could not see his eyes; the statue was erected using black marble, compared to the gold sheen of the predecessor’s. The contrast in colour, alongside Shigaraki’s emotionless expression here made the hairs on her skin rise. She quickened her pace after Dabi. 

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“Okay. Now, spill.” Dabi relaxed on one of the armchairs, while Geten sat on the sofa. His room was unusually clean, until Geten remembered that there were servants to help with the housekeeping. She doubted the man in front of her would even make his own bed, but to be fair, neither did she. 

She paused, picking her words carefully. She had so much to say, she found it difficult to start.

“You were right,” She blurted out. 

“You’re welcome,” He replied, “About what?” 

“The Liberation Army. I understand what you mean now.”

A smile tugged at his lips. “About time.” He sounded like he meant it, and the smile looked as if he was truly glad for her. It was only a biting feeling; Geten was surprised how she surmised it at all. Dabi expressing genuine happiness at something was unorthodox, to say the least. 

“So…” Dabi tapped his chin. “That means you’re not going for the Festival. Fine by me.” 

Geten froze. She wanted to say that. She needed to say more than that. To verbally express her anger, her pain, her betrayal at the PLF. A burning desire had arisen in her throat at the notion of declaring how the Festival was a totem of everything she despised about the Front, and she wished to burn it in effigy. 

But instead Dabi incinerated all of that to ashes, and the ashes wrote, That means you’re not going for the Festival. He surely had his own manner of expressions. 

Sometimes she forgot how perceptive he was, like when he understood her reasons for not abandoning the Takame assignment, without her even saying much. But his qualities ended before empathy. Then again, she figured she possessed little amounts of it too. 

“Yes,” She said. “Which brings me to what you’re doing next Monday.”

He bristled, silent for a while in possible contemplation. He opened his mouth a few times before closing them. Finally, he sighed and said, “It’s another assignment Shigaraki put me up to. An escort mission for that guy you saw me with.” 

“I’ll come with you, then.” 

“S’cuse me?” Dabi raised an eyebrow. “Since when could you just budge into anything you want?” 

“Well, I did it the last time.” 

“You’re absolutely right,” he deadpanned. “That will be the last time.” 

Geten allowed herself to scowl at his snark. “Come on, I’d have nothing to do. I can watch your back, at least.” 

Dabi eyed her for a while, his expression reeking of annoyance. 

“Fine. There’s really no arguing with you.” 

Geten shot a glare at him, but before she could retort, Dabi added, “Come to think of it, now that you’ve stopped following all that bullshit liberation crap, why are you still here? Why not just pack your bags and leave this place?” 

She blinked. That question had been on the back of her mind ever since she picked up Destro’s book and threw it, but she had never given it thought. It was as if she knew the answer, but never verbalised nor phrased it in her mind. 

“I suppose...there are many reasons,” She said. “Leaving the PLF would raise many alarms within. I’d be considered a traitor and hunted by them forever. Their influence is still to be respected and feared. Japan as a whole is polluted with soldiers following the ideology. Another is Shigaraki.” 

Her voice trembled as she spoke the Grand Commander’s name. “I’ll admit that I’m fearful of him. I can’t say the same for you, I suppose.” 

She took a deep breath. “Lastly, I think it’s because of you. I respect you as a colleague and fellow soldier, and I trust you.” She swallowed. “You saved my life.” 

Dabi’s head dipped. “Shut up.”

“What?” 

“That’s not true.” His tone was uncharacteristically soft. “You saved mine. I haven’t said this yet but...thank you.” 

Her internal circuitry froze up at the words. She opened her mouth but nothing was said. What could she say in response to that? 

“I think…” She said her thoughts out loud. “We helped each other. That’s all.” 

She surprised herself at said thought, realising how unprecedented that was. Before this, she always operated alone, and if she ever worked with other soldiers on assignments – well, she hardly noticed the difference between missions with or without them. All she ever focused on was the task at hand. They were like the air rushing past her ear. 

“Yeah, yeah.” Dabi coughed. “Don’t tell anyone I said that.” 

“You said that the last time, when you let me lean on you. Are you that shy?” Geten observed dryly. 

That seemed to strike a nerve. His eyes immediately hardened into a snake’s glare. “Shut up.” 

Geten bit her lip to stifle her giggle, but she changed the subject. 

“How did you know about what the Liberation Army was really like?” Geten said. 

“Easy. I talked to you on the first night, and…” A thought seemed to cross his mind, souring his expression. “Other things.” 

Geten frowned. Was that guilt? 

“What’d you do?” 

He averted her gaze. “Something I can’t say I’m proud of.” 

“Interesting. That’s a lot, coming from you, but I won’t pry.” 

A silence entered the conversation, but Geten found it comfortable, unlike the silence that presided over the past few days where she was cooped up in the hospital. Although she had the peace and quiet, a part of her was always on edge. It was the same part that kept her ice at the ready, prepared to defend herself from anyone. 

But here, as she thought about it, she realised she had let her ice melt into her parka, but she wasn’t alarmed. The vigilant side of her was resting, feeling —

Safe. That’s the word. I feel safe with him. 

“I still owe you that soba, by the way.” 

“Huh?” She stared at him. “I honestly assumed you were joking.” 

“Nope. Tomorrow night. Keep your schedule open.” Dabi met her gaze, a smirk returning to his face. 

“Thanks, I suppose. I hope it’s good, and friendly to you.” She gestured at his form. 

“Oh yeah, it’s villain-friendly. Don’t worry about it.” 

“You call yourself that?” The word was strange to apply to herself. Villain. 

“Well, everyone calls me that. I’ve simply accepted it. I mean, I am, but I’m not.” 

“That is totally illogical.” 

Dabi gave her a weird sort of smile, as if he knew something she didn’t, but it soon faded. “Well, you’ll figure it out. Anything else?” 

She did have other things to talk about, but it was enough for tonight. She shook her head. 

He gestured at the door. “See you tomorrow then. Good night.” 

Geten acquiesced to his request, despite a churning feeling in her stomach. She murmured a “Good night” in return and stepped out of the room. 

She was met with a rush of cold air prickling her skin, as if reminding her she was no longer in friendly company. She pulled her parka close to her and began her journey back to her room. 

I wish Dabi was here. 

The thought came from nowhere, stopping her in her tracks. The crowd parted around her without question. 

That’s not normal. She wasn’t one to depend on others, much less wish for their presence. But the feeling of solitude felt more bitter to her than usual. 

I’ll go train. It’s been a while anyway, and I’m still a lieutenant to Violet. I’ve yet to inform the other two of the deeds of Takame. 

She changed her direction, walking towards her usual spot. The city was still somewhat populated at this time of the night. Soldiers and citizens were walking alongside her or past her. It occurred to her that they kept sparing her sidelong glances, both of curiosity and fear. 

I’m walking with them. Her footsteps felt heavier. To tread upon the same ground as them, as opposed to flying overhead on her platform of ice, it made her feel more…akin to those around her, as if they were all cut out from the same cloth. The cold truth? They were. All puppets in the hands of Destro and his ideas.

She thought about Mihara Takame. If she was here, how would Geten have differentiated her from any other soldier? 

“Ah!” Geten collided with someone, a young man about her age. She stumbled back, but he quickly caught her by the arm, before instantly dropping his grip once she was stable.

“I’m so sorry, Apocrypha! I was too careless, it will never happen again, I assure you. I’ll watch myself better!” He bowed, voice quaking, along with his arms. No doubt he was part of the younger generation of soldiers who learnt who Apocrypha was, the ice-man. Geten hated that now.  

She took a breath to steady her instincts that demanded he bow lower in shame. But it was her shame that she felt those thoughts still rise up in anger when she was knocked back.

“No, I was too mired in my own thoughts, my apologies.” She held him upright and gave a slight bow in return, then she continued onwards, leaving him stunned. 

Chapter 22: Lost Memories

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Previous Chapters: 21, 20, 19, 18, 17, 16, 15, 14, 13, 12, 11, 10, 9, 8, 7, 6, 5, 4, 3, 2, 1

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On Friday, Dabi found himself surrounded by four figures, recognising only one by his still-long silver hair like strands of moonlight, his hardened, battle-scarred face and calm expression. 

“This is a nice reunion. I can’t say I remember all of you – mostly because I don’t care to do so, but if Nine let you guys into his special club, you guys are likely decent.” Dabi smirked, eyeing each of them in turn. 

The rightmost one, an imposing wolf-man gave a growl. “Decent? I’ll show you decent.”

“Chimera,” Nine, to his left, spoke softly. To Dabi’s surprise, the subordinate huffed and stayed silent. Turning back to face Dabi, Nine said, “It has indeed been a while. You understand the logistics of this experiment?”

“Shigaraki put me to it, of course I do.” 

“Then let us proceed.” Nine stepped towards him, while his minions tensed up. 

“Nine, are you sure about this?” The skinny man directed a glare towards Dabi. Dabi didn’t need that to tell him they were suspicious of him. 

“I’ll be in safe hands. We will meet at the location I’ve given you all. Take care, friends.” Nine gave a wave of dismissal, and with some reluctance, the remaining three departed in silence. 

“Alright, let’s go.” Dabi pocketed his hands and began leaving the forest clearing, heading back towards Deika City. He heard Nine’s footsteps behind him. 

“Your demeanour has certainly shifted. What happened to the old Vengeance?”

“Who?”

“You, obviously.”

Dabi racked his brain, but the name didn’t ring a bell. “Well, I don’t call myself that horrible name now.”

“I’ve heard. Numerous cases of burnt corpses or piles of ashes, blue flames. They call you Dabi now. I thought it was peculiar, but it made sense when I could no longer contact your old mentor.” 

“Your squadmate.” Dabi corrected, the fact returning to his memories. As Nine’s voice entered his head, it hummed in resonance with old recollections where he had met the man in his teenagehood. He now recalled the one encounter, out of the few, where Dabi had first seen that calm, controlled countenance contort with rage, born from the ideology he stole. 

“It confused me initially. I wondered why a man you respected and perhaps even cared for would be subject to your flames. The possibilities ranged from hallucinogens to collateral damage. But no.” Nine murmured. “You killed Dabi intentionally, didn’t you?”

Dabi was silent for three seconds, the air cold as winter storms. “You were right,” Touya said. “He left me for dead, but I escaped, and then...yeah.”

Nine sighed. “How poetic. To die by his partner’s hands, as he let his squad die all those years ago. But that brings me to my other question.”

They were drawing near to civilization, weaving through pine trees and stepping over brooks. 

“Why take his name?” 

“Figure it out yourself,” Dabi said with a forceful tone of finality. “We’re almost reaching the place.” 

To his credit, Nine dropped the subject. Perhaps he did so because he needed what Shigaraki had to offer. Antagonising Dabi wouldn’t be smart.

They were reaching one of the tunnels that led to the Liberation Front’s assembly square, now empty. It was empty, likely only watched by Skeptic’s surveillance. But a few raised eyebrows is all it would draw; Skeptic was too cowardly to question Dabi’s tasks or Shigaraki’s plans. 

“Here?” Dabi heard disgust in Nine’s tone as the musty air rushed out of the opening doors. 

“Can’t let anyone see us. This is good.” Dabi shut the doors behind them. Tapping his earpiece, he said, “We’re good, Doc.”

“I’ve been waiting for a while now,” Ujiko huffed on the other end of the line. “Give me a second.”

“Have a safe trip, Nine, I’ll see you on Monday.” Dabi waved, concealing a grin. 

Nine gave a nod, before Ujiko’s teleportation took hold of his form, and Nine’s body disappeared within the swampy goo. 

Dabi leaned against the wall, feeling more memories return of the other Dabi. The first Dabi. Did I ever know his name? I don’t think he, nor Nine, ever told me. Special forces… all that secrecy. 

He felt his fire ignite on his arm out of instinct. He willed it to die, and instead, let the past engulf him. 

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“What’s your name, kid?” 

“Touya.” I rubbed my hands out of instinct. What time is it? How long did I sleep?

“Quirk?”

“I can shoot fire.” 

“Was it you back there? The fire at that mall in the afternoon?” 

“No,” I lied. 

The stranger cocked his head. “I ain’t gonna report you to the police, kid. I’m not exactly on best terms with them myself.” 

“Are you…” The word on the tip of my tongue was like a matchstick to a fuse. 

“A villain?” He scoffed. “I just fixed you up and gave you a place to sleep for the night. Do I look like one?” 

I looked him up and down. Grey coat, green goggles on his forehead, a cigarette in his hand. “No,” I said. 

“Well, your perception needs some work.” He leaned back on the creaky folding chair. “Officially, I’m considered one, but unlike the thugs in alleys like this, I have standards. And I don’t take kids hostage, even if you’re Endeavour’s kid.” 

I backed away, my back slamming against the mouldy bricks. “How did you —“ 

“Please, a fire quirk, and recent sightings of Endeavour at the same mall that was set on fire? Don’t play dumb with me.” 

“That was his doing,” I argued. 

He took a puff and clucked his tongue. “Now you’re blaming it on your dad? Not very filial.” 

“I hate my dad.” The venom coursed through every word I spat out, which seemed to startle even the stranger.

“Hm, some spirit in you. Well, take that bravado and run off now, why don’t you?” 

“What?” 

He quirked his eyebrow. “You heard me, shoo.” 

“But…” My head drooped. “I’ve nowhere to go. I’m running away.”

“Well, you should have thought of a plan before setting fire to a mall, using that as an escape, and nearly choking to death in the flames you made.” Every word in that sentence made my skin shudder. 

I was desperate, I wanted to say, but desperation would only paint me as prey in the underbelly of society, my next stage of hell that the gods were benevolent enough to throw me into.  

“I can help you,” I decided to say, raising my head, mustering the drops of defiance in myself.

The man snorted. “How exactly does a 13 year old kid benefit me? I don’t do teams, boy.” 

“What if I beat you in a fight?” I clenched my fists, which still stung from the wounds. 

He scanned my form and the guise of confidence on my face. “Oh, so you were trained by Endeavour. I thought you were one of those prissy boys enjoying a rich life.”

My face drained of heat and colour. How did he know?

“Look, I’m not a smart guy, but I’m smarter than you. I can make my own assumptions, one of which is that I’d win you in a fight. No contest.”

“I…” My voice trailed off.

“How about this?” The man said, throwing his cigarette behind him. “You know hide and seek?” 

I frowned. “Yes. It’s a childish game.”

“I don’t think so. I think it’s one of the best strategies for its simplicity. Let’s play that game. Give me a minute, then go to the nearby park. It’s midnight, no one will see you. And if you get caught by a stray policeman, I’m not saving you again. Anyway, if you can find me, I’ll let you in. Got it?” 

I gulped, hoping this wasn’t dangerous for myself, but considering how I’d be unconscious for a couple of hours and he hadn’t done anything, I felt a sense of trust in this stranger. 

“Ok, tha – thank you. How long do I have?”

“60 seconds. Start counting.” With that, he left the alley. 

1...2...3

Ten seconds in, I wondered if he was simply leaving me as a twisted joke. How far could he run in a minute? What was his quirk anyway? 

Twenty seconds in, I contemplated scrounging this hideout for whatever I could find and running from him, but the guilt of betraying his hospitality stopped me. 

Thirty seconds in, in a moment of panic, I thought he was going to turn me in. What if people died in the fire? I would be held responsible, wouldn’t I? What if everything he said about himself being a villain was a lie?

The minute felt stretched into eternity with the unceasing torrent of worries flooding my mind. But after being frozen in one spot throughout, I heard myself say 60. Taking a deep breath, I got up and left the hideout, entering the cold night. 

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Dabi heard the door groan open. He opened his eyes to see a familiar form, shrouded by a recognizable parka hood.

“You?” Dabi frowned. “What are you doing here?”

Geten’s form went rigid, like a burglar who had been caught by a flashlight. 

“I thought...there was a meeting,” She said. 

“And you chose to enter by this tunnel?” His tone was acidly amused. 

Geten didn’t reply for a couple of seconds. “Yes.” 

Dabi sighed. “For a lieutenant, you’re shit at lying. You were following me, weren’t you? Why would you enter an empty place where you know your entrance would be heard so goddamn clearly?” 

“You were in there for a while. I thought,” She caught herself, but relented. “I thought something happened to you. That man. He looked dangerous.”

Dabi’s breath was stuck in his throat. It was his turn to be stunned. “I was fine, alright. I’m just thinking. So, how much did you hear?” He folded his arms in annoyance, but he found it suddenly difficult to muster anger against her.

“Next to nothing, apart from your farewell. What are you doing when the Festival starts?” 

“I’ll be there during the Festival. Don’t worry.” Dabi figured Twice could simply generate a copy of him. Technically, it was the truth. 

“You’re a liar.” The emotion in her words took him aback, as if that really struck a painful chord in her. “You wouldn’t sound so reassuring. What’s going on?” 

Ugh. Shigaraki won’t be happy if I told her. 

“I’m not going to divulge this to anyone. I’ve no intention to, anyway,” She added.

“It’s just a side task, okay? You can handle the regiment just fine.”

Geten was quiet, then she spoke, “Can we continue this somewhere else?”

“Why?”

“Wouldn’t want to make the amateur mistake you did when speaking to that man.” She gestured around them. 

Ah. Dabi had an idea what she intended to say. “If you say so. Where’s a good place?” 

Chapter 19: Hawks’ Visit

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Previous Chapters: 19, 18, 17, 16, 15, 14, 13, 12, 11, 10, 9, 8, 7, 6, 5, 4, 3, 2, 1

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“You...again?” Geten eyed the winged hero as he sauntered in, bearing a basket of fruits with a hovering feather. He was the first – and hopefully the last, unless it was the man who landed her in this bed – visitor on this Monday afternoon. 

“I just came to check on you. I hope you’re not a carnivore.” With a cordial smile, he placed the gift on the bedside table. 

“Don’t you have...hero duties to attend to? To keep up appearances?” The shiny surfaces of the apples glinted at her. She found their presence less a gift of generosity and more a peace offering. After all, their last conversation hadn’t ended on good terms. Her wariness of this hero-turned-villain lingered.

“Oh, I’ve done them. Not to brag, but I’m pretty fast. Efficient too.” Hawks sheathed his wings and took a seat on the chair facing her. 

“Were you sent by Shigaraki?” 

“Nope, came here on my own. I can’t say I like taking orders from the big guy. I prefer to spread my wings and be free, y’know?” 

Free. The word rang differently in Geten’s head now, after regurgitating up the words and lies she was fed by the Liberation Army, and she found them bitter. Disgusting. It made her want to retch. The man in front of her sounded genuine in that sense, in desiring liberation. It sounded entrancing, but she remembered their last encounter where that same smile threatened her position and life. 

“The last time we talked…” Geten measured her words. “You said to find you when I’ve figured which side I’m on. And you’ve come to find me. Tell me, what does this gesture of yours mean?” 

Hawks had the grace to look embarrassed. “All right, you got me. Sorry about our last conversation. I didn’t trust you that much then, because of your – to put it nicely, questionable tactics, that I had uncovered. But I heard what you did from talking to the other lieutenants, I think you’ve changed, and that you’re really a part of the PLF. So I’d like to make it up to you.” 

Admittedly, her arms felt less tense after hearing his rationale. There was a sincerity in his words. 

“So you’re saying you trust me?” Geten definitely did not reciprocate this notion. 

“I believe I can trust you much more than a few days ago, at least. I’m guessing something happened within that span of time.” 

“If you talked to the rest about the briefing I missed, then there’s no need to ask me what happened.” Her ears felt hot imagining how that mission debrief went. But considering how Shigaraki’s visit went, Dabi probably said something backing her up. She added that to the list of things to ask Dabi about. 

Hawks raised his arms. “All right, I won’t pry. Just came to apologize. If my being here is uncomfortable, I’ll be out of your hair.” 

Geten’s nerves were in overdrive, as if Sanctum were present, producing voltages from his quirk. Hawks gave off the same feeling, but she thought about the girl who looked at her with fear as she handed the book to her yesterday. If that perception of her remained, then Destro’s clutches over her life would be too. She would always be seen as the cold lieutenant of the PLF, seeking liberation of her “meta-ability” over anything. And she came to the conclusion that she despised that idea. 

“Wait,” She sighed, as Hawks was getting out of his chair. “It’s fine. I suppose I owe an apology for my behaviour as well.”

“Ah. Not gonna lie, that was unexpected. What the hell happened – Actually, don’t tell me. I don’t need to know.” 

Geten lightly chuckled. “What were you even doing the past few days, anyway? You didn’t show up for meetings.”

Hawks did a ‘I-don’t-know’ hand gesture. “Well, I’m technically not a lieutenant of a regiment or anything. I’m just a spy. So Skeptic’s, with Shigaraki’s approval, sent me to see what info I can get from the HSPC.”

“I see. Should I be hearing all of this?”

“Don’t see why not. I’ve been talking to Twice about this too, and you’re all lieutenants. Same clearance, if anything.”

“Bubaigawara?” That was a minor surprise. “Are you two friends?” 

Hawks cocked his head. “That’s one way to put it. I’ve been teaching him Liberation ideology.”

Ah. That struck a sour chord with Geten. It would have been pleasing to hear just a few weeks ago, before the doubts began to plague her mind. “For his regiment, I presume?”

“Yeah, he’s trying to prove himself a good leader. That’s pretty cool of him, so I’m helping him along with that.” 

“You read the book?” Geten said.

“Destro’s autobiography? Yeah. I’ve been advertising it to some heroes. Re-destro’s pretty happy about that. He’s a...funny guy, when he’s not angry.”

“He’s always angry.” She couldn’t help herself but spit out that sentence, sending the temperature in the room plummeting. Hawks blinked. 

“Uh...sorry, is he a bad teacher? He was your mentor, right? Or still is…” Hawks’ voice trailed off. 

She gulped. Don’t talk about it, she warned herself. As nice of a person Hawks was seeming, she definitely didn’t want him telling anyone else, much less Yotsubashi himself, about her change of heart towards the PLF and its leader. 

“No – I mean, yeah, he is. But I mostly conduct my own training now. And no, he’s an okay teacher, but I’ve made him mad a couple of times. Just...bad memories, is all.” She pursed her lips, mentally bashing herself. 

“My bad, I won’t bring him up then.” 

Geten was desperate to change the subject. “So, you think what Destro wrote resonates with you?” 

“Well, not to the extent of creating a cabal organisation and infiltrating the Hero Commission to spread his word, but I’m from the League, so I’m not one to talk. Still, his ideas of freedom and liberation…” There was a wistful look in his eyes as he stared at the afternoon sky. 

“Did I ever tell you why I became a hero at first? Before joining the League.” Geten shook her head. 

“I’m only telling you this in confidence,” He said, “And because out of all the people in the Liberation Front, you seem to really take the ideology to heart.”

Geten nodded slowly, hiding how that statement was a red hot poker through her chest. 

“I liked my meta ability a lot, but I could never really use it because of the laws of usage. So I heard about heroes and how they could use it to fight crime and save people. That’s why I became one.”

He sighed. “Then it turned out that becoming a hero placed even more restrictions on me. It was just filling out paperwork and being sent on patrols. It sucked, and that’s putting it kindly. So, here I am. It’s why I found so much meaning in Destro’s ideology. I’m guessing you feel the same.”

She nearly choked on the words. “Yeah, I guess.” So Hawks believes it? Well, he’s never faced the hell I went through, she argued. But his words sent a chill down her spine, because that’s exactly what she sounded like the first time she spoke to Dabi in the hotel. How easy was it to essentially brainwash a hero like Hawks?

You’re wrong, she wanted to tell him. But his story sounded truthful. He was shackled by the norms of hero society, and found freedom in the League, and by extension the Liberation Front. But she was born into it, made to believe it, speak for it with no voice for herself. 

Could that be the difference? 

Choice? 

“Anyway.” Hawks was getting out of his chair, snapping her out of her thoughts, “I should let you get more rest. Festival’s approaching, you probably need to start training soon.”

She gave a murmur of agreement. 

When he was at the door, he turned back. “So...allies?”

“Allies.” She affirmed. 

Hawks gave a grin and left, leaving Geten to stare at the ceiling. 

Freedom. The word didn’t sound as poisonous in her mind now. No, she did want freedom. Freedom from this Liberation Front. As to how she was to get it, she had a rough idea. 

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Standby for report. Usual. 

As he soared through the skies, Hawks willed the inked feather on the presidents’ desk to move, scribbling out the message on the fresh sheet of paper like a magic quill. It was their private form of communication, one that he was sure even Skeptic couldn’t trace. As far as he knew, he could control the stray feather from a maximum distance of 50 kilometres. And it was his best way of informing her if he ever died, because, he assumed, it would be noticeable. 

Once that message was sent, and hopefully received, he shifted focus to what had just happened. 

Well, that didn’t work, was his first thought. He wondered if he had been too soft on her, but he had little authority to assert unless he wanted to outrightly threaten her, but that was no longer possible given her relationship with Dabi – of all people. 

Things became much more harder now that she was no longer the isolationist within the PLF. 

He replayed the encounter in his mind, noting her spark of rage when Yotsubashi was mentioned. That was no surprise: she had rejected Re-destro’s leadership since his defeat, but the extent of her outburst took him aback. Something happened during her mission that he had to know. 

Takami cursed his absence that Saturday. Shigaraki’s emergency meeting was unexpected. The only source of information he had was from Bubaigawara, and the man was equally clueless. According to him, Dabi didn’t say much about it, only that the fight between the two lieutenants and Takame was difficult. 

He could try probing Dabi, but he was likely drawing sufficient suspicion from him. Any more, and he would be dead. Re-destro was another option, but Takami guessed the man had even less information to offer, even if he was interrogated. 

So that left Apocrypha and Twice. The former would definitely be of greater use, but she trusted him half as much as the latter. He would have to try again, maybe tomorrow. If he was correct, she would be hospitalised till Friday – assuming she held up her end of that bargain with Dabi. 

He let out a chuckle, thinking about how he froze up when he heard that conversation. 

I’ll be damned, Dabi and her, it’s almost poetic. If this were high school, he would have no qualms playing matchmaker. But since both were psychopaths in their own right, they were a lit cigarette at a gas station, and Keigo was unsure how far he could push them before they came at him brandishing ice and fire. 

He entertained himself thinking about this. Given Dabi’s behaviour and actions, he suspected some form of self-resistance on Dabi’s part, and Apocrypha was probably confused about emotions and all that. All things considered, she was handling her transition towards humanity better than he thought, putting it somewhat dramatically. 

Who knew I’d be using what I learnt from my training to watch a clueless couple of villains decipher their own feelings? If he ever wrote a autobiography – assuming he survived all this, this would be up there, along with all the war crimes he would have to commit in the name of peace. 

One of which would have to be conducted soon, if he had no answer to deliver to his superiors. Alternatively, after reporting all of this, maybe they had another way. They always seemed to, after all. Frustration constricted his face, with, thankfully, no one to witness it. 

Chapter 19: Old Chains

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Previous Chapters: 18, 17, 16, 15, 14, 13, 12, 11, 10, 9, 8, 7, 6, 5, 4, 3, 2, 1

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The girl bowed and left the room in a hurry, nearly tripping over her feet as she did so. Geten watched her go, her lips pursed. Her behaviour reminded her of that messenger at her lodgings, but while she had smirked at the boy’s cowardice just a few days ago, she felt uneasiness coil around her stomach. 

Do they all look at me like that? How long has it been since I’ve been in the city? 

She rarely ever walked down a street, not having any need to with her cryokinesis. Transporting herself with her ice was much preferable to reducing herself by commuting alongside the other soldiers in the MLA. The few times she interacted with them...they always had the same look on their faces. 

She put those thoughts aside and returned to an even more unpleasant subject: the book in her hand that she had requested the girl bring to her. It was familiar to her like a mother to her infant. The same indented red cover with its engraving of the symbol of the MLA. The same title emblazoned with gold. 

Meta Liberation War. 

She knew the book back to front. If prompted by anyone, she could recite the pledge, the paragraphs or the sign off by Destro in a heartbeat. She had spent years memorising every key sentence, every declaration made by the founder of the Army she belonged to, and so on.

So why am I holding it in my hand?

Well, for one, she needed something to keep her distracted while she was stuck in the hospital ward, thanks to a certain fire-user and a dumb pact made just an hour or so ago. 

“Ok, five day hospitalisation, doc’s orders.” Dabi turned to leave the room. 

“No, I’m leaving tomorrow,” Geten shot back, crossing her arms. 

“Uh huh, because you’d be fully recovered, right?” 

She paused, searching for a retort. “You can’t make me stay here.”

Even to her, it sounded childish, and Dabi’s choked laughter told her he was thinking the same way. “Tell you what, what’s your favourite food?”

The question caught her off-guard. She blinked twice, wondering if that question came from him. “I don’t have one.”

“Bullshit. Everyone has one.”

“Unlike you, I’m not that much of an adolescent to show preferences for food. I eat whatever’s there.” 

“It’s something cold, isn’t it? Soba?” 

“How – wha –” She spluttered. “No, no it’s not.”

“You chill here until Friday, and I’ll get you soba.”

“Even if I did like it, I could just get it myself.” She was hoping her expression wasn’t betraying how much she liked the noodles. 

“Not in Deika City, obviously. You think this shithole has any good food?” 

“We can’t just leave –” Her exasperation was overpowered by his when he cut her off with, “Do you want the soba or not?”

A spasm of pain coursed through her ribs, causing her to wince. “Fine,” She muttered, and sat down on the bed. 

“See you Friday then. My god, you’re stubborn.” He left and shut the door. 

The memory, fresh in her mind, was oddly warming to think about, while the metal-engraved title of the book felt cold to the touch, pulling her back to the present. 

The second reason was repetition – too much of it, that is. She compared it to her mastery over her meta ability made it a part of her, that she barely gave a thought whenever she levitated ice. Likewise, she could recant any part of the book with no hesitance. But even though I speak the words out loud, how much thought have I given their meaning?

She flipped open the book. Destro’s words filled Geten’s head like a lullaby a parent might sing to their child, not that the young woman knew what that was like. 

“I am not in a prison. I am in solitude, and in this solitude have I found solace…” She read out loud to herself in the ward. It was habitual to do so, but as she kept reading, her voice trailed off as she studied it, and a growing void inside her gnawed at her heart. 

I dream of a society where the use of our meta abilities is uncontrolled, as the great power that granted the human race this blessing intended. It was, and is, and will always be, a gift. Yet it is also a responsibility to bear. We must show the world the truth the governments try to conceal. They pass human laws that goes against the natural law. I, and my army, tried to show them this truth, but it is with great regret and sorrow that I announce an obstacle in our path towards destiny. My incarceration. 

 …

Strength is survival. Strength is our meta abilities, and honing them to perfection, achieving what we called “apotheosis” in the ancient past. To become god-like. 

“And yet, you died, Destro,” Geten murmured. “And still we...we honour and revere you…” The void grew larger. 

The journey unto death is one I will undertake after I finish writing this, but know that death is not the end for us. While I concede death is a frightening concept, I encourage you to believe that it is an inspiration for others. To die in battle is honourable. I only wish I had done so, but what has happened is set in stone. My death is a protest to the laws that chain us, but it is also your empowerment, to do what I could not. 

“Death,” Geten whispered, the word tasting like poison on her tongue. She remembered both times she was one thread away from it: the barrel of Trumpet’s gun pointed at her, and the fists of Takame. In the first, she was not in combat. It would have been an assassination, would it not? And in the second…

Her chest hurt at the thought. She felt no honour, only emptiness and fear, knowing what the Liberation Army had done to her attacker’s family, and knowing her death was imminent. 

Is it possible that Destro had feared death as well? 

The reminder about Takame’s wife brought her to flip the pages to the section on the powerless, or, as Destro put it...

It is not some genetic disorder as the men in white coats would tell you. They are simply the unfortunate ones to not have received this gift. Pity them, for they, the outcasts, deserve your pity. 

“Mihara…” She looked just like her. If she was wandering around Deika City, Geten would have thought she was some ordinary soldier. An ordinary person, even. How was she an outcast? Why did the MLA start hunting down the quirkless? Out of pity? They deserved it?

She slammed the book shut as the image of her dead body appeared in her mind. She drew deep breaths to calm herself – had she been hyperventilating this entire time? Her fists were trembling, blood pounding in her head in anger of it all. 

The agony was a python writhing on her chest while old memories resurfaced from the aching in her brain. She remembered what Re-destro taught her, and how he did it. 

A growl rose in her throat. 

Kicked. Starved. Left alone to fend for herself, in the name of “liberation”. Everything that she did. Everything that was done to me, was in the name of liberation, but it shackled me more and more. 

“Gah!” She flung the book across the room and buried her head in her hands. 

She sat there upright on the hospital bed for some time, the silence screaming all the answers she did not want to hear, but had to, to her. 

“You don’t find anything wrong with that?” Dabi had said on the plane. She remembered his countenance, a mixture of irritation and pity, whenever she spoke about the MLA. She had chalked it up to the arrogance of the victorious, or just a dislike of her, which was mutual then, so it never bothered her to think further. The pieces started to click together. 

“You dropped this.” A dry voice made her look up, and a paleness spread across her face like permafrost. 

Tomura Shigaraki stood at her doorway, dressed in a crimson jacket whose sleeves ran down his arms and black undershirt, whilst wearing jeans. He looked like any other ordinary person, if not for the severed hand on his face. In his hand was the book. 

Instantly, thoughts of a legless Re-destro, or the piles of dust that once were Shigaraki’s opponents flooded her mind. She gripped the bedsheets tightly. 

“Why are you here? And...I don’t need that.” Geten averted her eyes.

Shigaraki tossed it to the side and shut the door behind her. “I’m not here to kill you or anything, don’t shit yourself. I came here to see how you were doing. I gotta say, you look like you got broken up with.”

His words didn’t reassure her in the least, especially not the way he said ‘kill you’, but his posture didn’t indicate any animosity, so Geten took his word for it. Clearing her throat and steadying herself as best as she could, she responded, “I’m fine.”

“What’s with the book throw? Test tomorrow?” 

“No,” She replied with an edge to her voice. 

“You pissed?”

She exhaled. “Yes,” She said, mustering all the civility and politeness she had left. 

“How nice,” He said, the concern in his tone matching that of his expression. “Anyway, you’re free to do what you want now. I got nothing for Violet Regiment. You’re excused from the council meetings till you’re discharged, whenever the hell that is.”

She blinked. “That’s all?”

Shigaraki cocked his head. “What, you were expecting a celebration of your win?”

“No...never mind. Th – thank you, Commander.” She bowed her head. 

She heard the door slam and looked back up. She let loose a shuddering breath of relief from the sole fact that she was alive and not missing a limb, or an entire torso. He had looked more disinterested, as if she was an ant on his finger, but she would gladly accept that over a smiling Shigaraki. 

Did Dabi actually talk to him? She recalled the promise he had made on the motorbike ride.  

Maybe the consequences were waiting for her once her hospitalization was over, which made goosebumps appear on her skin. She held the sheets closer to her. Still, Shigaraki didn’t seem like the type to grant her catharsis before unleashing whatever hell he wanted upon her. If he was going to punish her, he would have done so just now. 

Geten sighed and sunk back underneath the covers. Or maybe I’m just lying to myself...

It was only mid-afternoon, judging from the sky outside, yet fatigue, both physical and mental, weighed her limbs down as if she had been training the whole day. The bed suddenly felt like the softest, most comforting thing in the world. Unable to fight against her body, she closed her eyes and drifted off to sleep, her thoughts too cluttered to sift through. A few names and words stood out, one of which was, Find Dabi. 

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Chapter 21: The Commander’s Will

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Previous Chapters: 20, 19, 18, 17, 16, 15, 14, 13, 12, 11, 10, 9, 8, 7, 6, 5, 4, 3, 2, 1

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It was nice to know that Dabi’s Monday afternoon was interrupted by an emergency meeting by Shigaraki, who broadcasted it over their private channel. The LoV channel, which had gone unused for a while. Which meant that this gathering concerned only them. 

That would explain why the venue was the Doc’s place, which employed the usual protocol that Shigaraki had devised. Dabi let out a sigh lost in the gales blowing about, and got to work.

10 minutes later, Dabi found himself surrounded by his old ragtag group of villains, except that they were now in possession of wealth and luxury rivalling the richest families in Japan. He supposed, that included the family he left behind. 

“I’ll get to the point. This is about what’s happening next Monday night.” Shigaraki was once again undergoing more of Ujiko’s experiments, this time with metal injectors protruding from his back. Dabi was no stranger to gore, but it looked as if Shigaraki was suspended by large metallic spider legs, and that disturbed him. It didn’t help that even Tomura himself looked to be in agony, with a strained expression and a coarser voice than normal. 

Despite all that, he called us here for this meeting. Must be hell of an emergency. 

“What about Re-destro and the others?” Spinner asked.

“I got the suits to go do some mundane task, so we have this window of time. I don’t trust them. Don’t plan to. I’m somewhat certain they’re plotting something, but I don’t care. Once they’ve served their purpose, I’m getting rid of them.”

“Anyway.” Shigaraki closed his eyes, his face muscles tightening like a python was constricting itself around his neck. “I need two – no, three teams for Monday. Your regiments will all be fighting. I’ll do another briefing for everyone about the invasion itself.”

He let loose a tiny gasp as steam arose from his back. Dabi heard Toga gulp. Compress took a minute step backwards. 

“Toga, I need you and Spinner to infiltrate a laboratory. Doctor needs a last piece to help finalise all of this.” Shigaraki waved a floppy hand at the machinations behind him. Himiko vigorously nodded along with Spinner’s affirmation. 

“The doc’s up in that room.” Tomura pointed with a shaky finger. “Go see him, he’ll tell you what to do.” The two nodded with startlingly obedient demeanours and left. 

“Compress, I need you for this mission.” Sako nodded. “I’m in talks right now with this guy on the street and his gang. He wants, or he thinks that he can undergo some experimentation like mine to wield multiple quirks. Even the Doc confirmed his blood matched that of All For One’s. It would make a good diversion for the heroes. I’m trying to draw him off the scent.”

“Who?” Twice asked. 

“Hawks. Which brings me to number three. Dabi, you might want to join this. We’re getting rid of him.”

“What? Cool!” Twice said, while Dabi raised an eyebrow. “That soon?”

“Yeah, after I got my sensory quirk, I’ve noted how this guy’s been snooping around too much. I don’t think he’s gotten that much info, but he pokes around any deeper, he’ll screw us over. So you, me – Twice, you too, we’re killing him.”

“But...why? He’s not a bad person. I’ve talked to him a few times, he’s just like us.”

So you got to him already, huh, Keigo? Smart, smart. 

“Twice.” Shigaraki’s voice resonated through the chamber, drawing all attention back to him. “Just trust me on this.”

Twice gulped, but nodded with a shiver in his form. 

“Compress.” Shigaraki took a deep breath whilst squeezing his eyes shut. “The guy’s name, is Nine.”

“Wait.” Dabi cut in. That name. Memories spawned from the depths, flashes of them, cut through with blue and red flames. And through it all, a face he’d met with a few times. “Silver hair, blue eyes?”

Tomura looked at him. “Yeah, you know the guy?”

“Swap me and Compress. I’ll deal with him,” Dabi said. 

“Why?”

“Please, just let me handle this.” He needed to. 

“Wow. All right then, if you say so. Compress, you good with this swap?” Tomura looked to Sako, who nodded with a hat tip. 

“Haven’t heard this man say please in my entire life. How could I say no to his cute pout?” Atsuhiro chuckled upon noticing Dabi’s glare. 

“Bitch,” Dabi muttered.

Shigaraki uttered his name with an authoritative tone. Dabi realised only a second later that he had turned his head towards his commander out of instinct. 

“First, you’re first meeting him on Friday to bring him to the Doctor’s place. Next Monday, you need to escort the chamber in a transport to a separate location – during the festival – to meet up with the rest of his posse. We’re gonna leak this to the heroes, make them think it’s me or something important. I’ll bail you out at the last second. I don’t give a shit what happens to the lunatic.”

“Got it.”

Tomura faced the other two, continuing, “Compress, Twice, just follow my lead when we bait the guy in. Don’t worry, I’ll keep you guys safe. Twice, you’re a menace enough that you don’t even need to be there. Just keep generating copies of me. This’ll be a piece of cake.” Shigaraki clenched his fist.

“No, don’t do this! Sure thing, Shigaraki!” Twice gave a thumbs-up with his left and a thumbs-down with his right. Compress gave a grunt of assent. 

“That’s all I got for you guys, then. Bye.” 

A wave of gunk pouring from Dabi’s mouth enveloped him, and five nauseous seconds later, the trio were back in the council room. 

“That was a fast meeting,” Dabi’s clone droned from his seat. 

“Aww...time to go already?” Toga’s clone pouted as she spun her pocket knife. 

“Sorry guys! Not sorry!” Bubaigawara raised his arms, and the clones of the LoV were reduced back into grey sludge, which seeped back towards the real Twice. 

“I’ll be taking my leave then. It’s a lot to think about, going up against him…” Atsuhiro murmured. “Guess I just need to have faith in Shigaraki.” He departed afterwards. 

Faith. The thought was irksome to Dabi. Having faith in Shigaraki of all things. A few months ago, he would have balked at the thought of Shigaraki being a competent leader, and he would have laughed if he was told he would actually listen to his orders. 

And here he was, accepting another assignment at the boy’s request. 

He’ll turn on you, just like the rest, A voice in his head snarled. And to a frightening degree, as Dabi’s thoughts lingered on Shigaraki’s plan, the voice was right. Except this time, it wasn’t personal. Shigaraki sought the annihilation of Japan. That included him, and the ground he stood upon, and it would destroy his dream. That dream he had been having for a while now. 

Part of him wanted to rage against that, to demand that Shigaraki find some other way to defeat the scum of society, but something in Tomura’s eyes told Dabi there was no stopping what the boy set out to do. 

“He’s good, I know it…” He heard Twice murmur beside him, not even acknowledging Dabi’s presence, as he walk-stumbled out of the room. Dabi watched him go, his brow creasing. 

If Hawks gets to him…No, Shigaraki said he’d keep them safe.

Maybe he would have to place his trust in Shigaraki after all. Yet he’d trusted people before, people he looked up to, and where did that lead Dabi?

Unto death.

Perhaps – he thought as he surveyed the council room, a reminder of the leaders he found himself following with little question, this time would be different. 

Either way, meeting Nine made for an interesting reunion. Not that he cared about the fanatic, but if anyone could help him regain the memories he burned, he could. It was Nine who once worked with Dabi, his mentor, the body that remained silent, even when engulfed in flames. 

Hi, Chapter 20, 21, 22 are up. I really got too tired of Tumblr’s shit formatting that doesn’t copy over formatted text, so just for now, while I still have brain cells left in me to finally update, I’m just uploading a AO3 URL. I’ll upload individual Tumblr posts tomorrow. 

Again, really sorry for this long ass hiatus. I honestly see this story as a whole ending somewhat soon, after taking the time to plan them out and have a rough summary of them as a skeleton. 

It’s getting a bit more plot heavy. I genuinely hope the plot was interesting for you guys, having deviated from canon slightly. Like, I like my fluff and Dabiten, but I also want to be a decent storyteller, and having their relationship be significant to the plot & themes. 

No idea whether people will like my story from start to end, but the way that it does end fits my vision when I began this story. I hope you still enjoy it when I reach that point. 

Previous Chapters: 7, 6, 5, 4, 3, 2, 1

“Hey.” Dabi slammed the door behind him. Apocrypha didn’t turn around. 

“You have 10 seconds to leave my room.” Was her soft greeting. It wasn’t a growl nor a hiss, more of a polite threat, and that signified something Dabi couldn’t pinpoint. 

Dabi bit back a retort. If he hadn’t just talked with Dabi, he would have shot back with, “Or?” He leaned against the door. “Look, since we’re commanding this squad as equals,” He said, resisting a snort on the last word, “can we put a pause on this?” 

“I don’t believe in ceasefires. They only lead to betrayal.”

“I’m telling you, I’m not going to. Even if I wanted to, Shigaraki wouldn’t let me.” 

“Really?” She replied with sardonicism. “You mean to say your leader would favour me, an enemy-turned-ally, over you, one of his allies from before the merger?”

Ugh, when you put it like that...Dabi pulled his face with a groan. “He’s our –” He forced out the next word sourly. “Leader now.”

“Hm.” She turned around. “I find that hard to believe.”

“He’s still in the council room, if you need proof. Go ask him yourself.” Dabi jerked a thumb at the door. 

“I don’t want anything to do with your leader.”

Dear god. Dabi closed his eyes and took a breath. “Fine, all I came here is to tell you that I’m going to be looking through our squad. I have their information here. Would you like to join me or keep staring at the window?” 

“Do it here then. And you only need to tell me their Meta Abilities. I will know them.” 

“If you say so. I’m gonna sit down.” 

Receiving no reply, he muttered, “I’ll take that as a yes.” Plopping himself down on the sofa, he took out the papers in his pockets and read out, feeling quite stupid, but at least she wasn’t trying to impale him. 

“There’s only three we need to care about. The rest are cannon fodder. First up, some guy with a quirk called Ethershark.” 

“Charioteer,” Geten responded immediately. He’s decent, but he’s useless if his husk is attacked while he’s activating his quirk. Otherwise, he’s ideal for causing chaos and providing a distraction.” 

“Uh huh…” Dabi scanned the information on him. “So he summons a ghost shark and his body can’t move.” He whistled. “Sounds cool.” 

He heard Geten scoff, drawing his attention. She still was staring out the window. “Do you judge the efficacy of meta abilities based on how flashy they are? That’s a poor criteria.” 

“Lighten up, will you?” Dabi said, a flicker of anger passing over his expression. “Anyway, the second guy’s quirk is Gasoline.”

Geten made a noise — a noise so foreign and unnatural Dabi’s head shot up in alarm. It took him a brief moment, a click in his head, to realise that she was laughing. 

“Him? He’s one of the strongest ones in our squad?” She said, guffawing, bringing a hand to her mouth to stifle it, to little effect. “The standards have really fallen, haven’t they?” 

“It synergizes with my quirk very well. Maybe that’s why Shigaraki put him under me.” Dabi said the last sentence more to himself. Damn, he actually planned this decently. 

“I hope so,” She snorted, and it amazed Dabi that for once, she wasn’t the target of her disdain and hatred. “Otherwise, all he can do is make people slip, or if he actually managed to use one of his lit matches. Either way, I could easily defeat him.” 

“I’m sure you could,” Dabi humoured. 

“Stop with your sarcasm. It’s infuriating,” Geten shot with that emotionless voice of hers. 

“Stop with your hypocrisy. It’s infuriating,” Dabi replied, met with silence. Shit, is she going to –

“Whatever.” Was her dismissal. Dabi blinked. Is she really like this now? 

Then it hit him. Their fight. She thought she had lost. She thought he had fire left in him. She had no idea he had been equally powerless then. That means...hmm...

“Anyway,” He continued, trying to keep his voice passive as a smile crept over his face. “The last guy, his is called Beatdown.” 

“What?”

“What, what?”

“What’s his quirk?” She sounded bewildered.

“Beatdown. He has enhanced stamina and muscle strength. His nerves become more resistant to damage as he becomes more – Hey!” Dabi said indignantly as his paper was snatched from Geten, who scanned through it with wild eyes. 

“Is he one of yours? Another criminal?” She interrogated.

“No, he’s from your army. What’s the big deal?” Dabi leaned back on the sofa, annoyed. “Not like you guys aren’t always trying to hook new people in.” 

“This man. I don’t know him. I should. I know everyone.”

“What? All hundred thousand of you guys?” 

“Only the strong ones. It narrows the list by quite a bit. And this man, whoever he is, his ability is strong. I would have noticed it. Someone’s been hiding him, and...maybe more.” Geten ended the sentence mumbling to herself, her eyes gradually unfocusing. She dropped the paper onto his lap, heading towards the door. 

“Should I ask where you’re going?” Dabi said.

“No.” 

The door slams behind her, leaving Dabi alone in her room. He frowned, picking up the information sheet on the Beatdown guy. 

“Why’s she freaking out about that guy? Jeez…” Dabi studied his quirk for a while before deciding that it was an admittedly powerful quirk. 

He looked around the empty hotel room. Geten had been holed up here since the night after their victory over the Liberation Army, and while it was tidied up slightly, it was still messy. Her bed was a mattress on the floor, and Dabi thought about the room he had in Re-destro’s mansion. It was filthy with wealth, but if he got to exploit it, he wasn’t complaining. He wondered why Geten still stayed here. 

He stood up, surveying the room. He saw what looked like a notebook on the desk and snatched it. Flipping through the pages yellowed from age, he saw the first few pages filled with handwriting exercises. Messy scrawls that slowly straightened out into neat repetitive words meant for practices. Then, it was someone’s journal. Hers? Possibly. 

He sat down on the chair next to the desk and began to read. 

4/2/01 Thursday

Very tired. I spent the whole day training. I can separate an ice cube into two now. The Grand Commander said he wanted me to be able to split one into five by the end of the week. Hope I can do it. 

7/2/01 Sunday 

I disappointed the Grand Commander. He did that thing again. It hurts, but he told me he would stop once I could split an ice cube into 5 pieces. I can’t disappoint him again. I’ll make him proud. 

I tried to put some ice on the bruises and make them stay as cold as possible. Maybe this is also part of my training. 

Dabi slammed the journal on the table with shaking hands, and then slowly backed away. 

I’ll make you proud, father. I’ll make ice, and fire.

“Fuck,” He murmured. He repeated that word to himself over and over again as he left the room. Why’d you read it? Bad idea, very bad idea.

He scrambled to the bathroom. He plunged his hands into the sink and began to wash them. He wasn’t sure what he was scrubbing off. He gasped as the familiar pain latched onto his arms and bit. It was milder than usual, but it still hurt. 

Looking into the mirror once more, he saw more than himself now. He saw Touya Todoroki as a boy, a boy emboldened with a purpose to be the strongest Todoroki. At the same time, he saw a poor girl forced to do Re-destro’s bidding, till she...Dear god.

This sick, twisted army. 

Dabi hated them now more than ever.

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Btw, I’ve been cross-posting these to other sites, and they’re technically edited versions although I haven’t been actually doing that. But the edited versions are there, sort of. Every chapter here is the first draft.

My Ao3, Wattpad and FF.net are all under the same username: CompletelyAnonymous.