….
[U.A. High School - Staff Dormitories]
Fuyumi Todoroki stopped in front of the door marked:
[DABI Torino]
A rabbit sticker and another small decal sat off to the side, but her gaze lingered on the name a moment longer, the sting of it settling somewhere she couldn't quite explain.
She pushed it down, shaking her head lightly, composure returning as she steadied the tiered bento box in one hand.
Her other hand lifted toward the doorbell, then paused, hovering there, caught between hesitation and worry.
For more than a decade, her 'whole' family was living in mourning for her brother's death, only to learn he had been alive all along.
It was a cruel reality to see him behave like he was a stranger, but she was also eternally grateful that he is alive.
Fuyumi wasn't a fighter like her brothers, but she had a different kind of stubbornness.
She wasn't giving up.
She rang the bell.
….
[Inside the Dorm]
Rumi Usagiyama was sprawled across the oversized rug, guiding Eri through a proper hero stretch, the scene so domestic it felt almost unreal, until the knock broke it.
Her ears snapped upright instantly.
At his desk, buried under student files, Dabi didn't turn, though his pen paused mid-stroke.
"I didn't order anything."
"I know."
"Well? Go check it."
"On it, on it." Rumi huffed, pushing herself up.
There was no caution in her approach, this was U.A.'s faculty housing, and even with public trust shaken after the recent attack, an intruder still felt unlikely.
Not that it would have mattered to her, especially when she already had a good idea who was on the other side - and suspected Dabi did too.
So she didn't bother with politeness, yanked the door open hard and filled the frame like a wall of muscle and white fur, her red eyes locking straight onto Fuyumi.
"The school's closed to visitors, teach. Especially uninvited ones."
"I… I brought dinner." Fuyumi said, voice unsteady as she tried to look past her. "Toya's favorite, salted ginger pork. I thought maybe…"
Dabi pushed to his feet. "Fuyumi."
"Toya–" She slipped past Rumi, bold enough to earn a brief flicker of respect, and set the bento on the table before steadying herself. "…I am sorry for coming unannounced, but I heard you have been visiting Mom at the hospital, and I wanted to thank you."
Rumi leaned against the doorframe with her arms crossed, thoughts churning as she wondered if she hated this woman, part of her wanted to, to hate the entire Todoroki bloodline - until her eyes caught the details: pen marks on Fuyumi's fingers, small cutlery cuts across her palm.
Pathetic, she thought.
This woman's entire existence was a desperate, thankless attempt to stitch a shredded family back together. And the worst part? Nobody thanked her for it, and it clearly wasn't working.
Pathetic - yes…
But also… brave.
And that was the problem, because she didn't truly hate Dabi's siblings.
What she felt was closer to a reluctant, bitter pity, they weren't enemies, just collateral, children caught in the fallout of a father's obsession and a mother's breaking point.
"Papa?"
The small whisper cut through the heavy atmosphere. Eri was tugging on Dabi's shirt, her wide eyes moving between the adults.
Fuyumi's expression shattered into something soft as she looked at the girl. "Little Eri..."
"Hehe! You are the sister who came to help Papa that day, right?" Eri giggled, the memory of the blood donation at the hospital.
"Yes. Thank you for remembering me, Eri-chan." Fuyumi's lip quivered.
She reached out tenderly, and nearly exhaled in relief when Eri didn't flinch. The girl leaned into the embrace with a natural, trusting grace that made Dabi let out a long, weary sigh.
He didn't pull her away, but the conflict in his eyes was palpable.
Fuyumi pulled back just enough to look at Eri. "And I wanted to thank you for visiting my mom, she was–"
"It seems you have got the wrong idea." Dabi cut in, face unreadable. "I never visited anyone at the hospital."
"Uh–?" Fuyumi faltered, unsure how to respond.
She had no proof, only what the nurse mentioned about someone visiting now and then, and this time a little girl bringing gifts, but the moment slipped from her–
"Oh! The beautiful lady is your mom?" Eri asked, tilting her head.
"Yes… she is."
"I have no idea what Eri's talking about." Dabi added quickly, trying to shut it down.
In the background, Rumi had already gone back to her stretches, uninterested at least on the surface.
Dabi's denial didn't last.
"But why did she look so sad?" Eri continued, brows furrowing. "Maybe she is just bored in the hospital?"
"Maybe." Fuyumi said, her voice tightening before she forced a smile. "But the doctors say she needs to get a little stronger before she can come home."
Eri brightened instantly. "Then I will give her my oats!"
Fuyumi blinked. "Your… oats?"
"Yes! Paps says they make me stronger and healthier."
A soft, shaky laugh escaped her. "That's very kind, but you still need to eat yours too. Or were you planning to skip breakfast, Eri-chan?"
Eri froze, eyes widening as she realized she had been caught, glancing at Dabi before lowering her voice.
"…No… it's for the beautiful lady. So she gets better, not because I want to skip them."
"I see…" Fuyumi said gently, reaching out to ruffle her hair. "You are very thoughtful, Eri-chan."
"Hehe, thanks."
Across the room, Rumi watched while stretching, sharing a brief, knowing glance with Dabi.
"Fine." Dabi muttered, the edge gone from his voice. "Sit down and eat before the 'brave' schoolteacher starts crying into the pork."
….
Dinner passed quietly, marked more by the soft clink of chopsticks than conversation, though the silence lacked its usual sharpness.
By the end, Fuyumi looked more at ease than she had in years, even if Dabi still couldn't hold her gaze for more than a second.
Eri had climbed onto the dining table, giggling as Fuyumi tickled her until she was breathless, while Rumi lay sprawled on the couch, completely out, unmoving as a rock.
Dabi finished his work, stepped away, and returned from the bedroom with a blanket, draping it over her before turning back.
"Huh?"
Eri suddenly went still, thinking hard, her expression only making her look cuter.
"What is it, Eri-chan?" Fuyumi asked gently, her instincts as a teacher showing.
"You…" Eri pointed at her. "Are Papa's little sister."
"Yes, yes…" Fuyumi nodded, briefly glancing at Dabi.
"And the lady in the hospital is your momma."
"Correct."
Eri rubbed her chin, deep in thought. "That means… She is also Papa's momma."
Dabi, already heading toward the bedroom, slowed, eyes widening slightly as he caught the direction of the conversation.
"Then… what is Papa's momma to me?"
She pushed herself up, standing on the table as realization struck. "Oh… oh–"
"Grandma! I have a grandma!" she declared, beaming, eyes shining.
She turned immediately. "Papa, papa… I have a grandma now–"
"Shh." Dabi cut in, stepping forward and reaching for her. "Mama is sleeping, keep it down."
"Hey…" then he glanced at Fuyumi. "It's past her bedtime too, let her sleep and you too."
"No… no, I can't possibly stay over."
"Just stay. I mean, it's pretty late… and is Natsuo home?"
"No, he isn't… his medical exams are close, so he is studying with friends."
"Good." Dabi replied. "Then go to bed."
….
[Class 1-A Classroom - Next Morning]
The classroom was talkative, still relishing in post sports festival scenes and exhaustion.
Aizawa stood at the lectern, looking even more sleep-deprived than usual, while Dabi leaned against the back wall.
"I know you are all still nursing bruises from yesterday." Aizawa started, his voice a flat drone. "But the world doesn't stop for recovery."
"Today, we are discussing your Workplace Experience Program - otherwise known as internships."
A digital map flickered onto the board, showing a tally of 'nominations' from Pro Hero agencies.
"The numbers are based on your performance at the festival." Aizawa continued. "In previous years, it's been more spread out, but this year... well, the gap is significant."
The screen flashed the results:
| Todoroki: 4,123
| Bakugo: 3,556
| Midoriya: 2,109
| Tokoyami: 360
| Iida: 301
….
….
….
The class erupted in hushed whispers.
Midoriya stared at his own number, his mind already racing.
"Don't let the numbers go to your head." Dabi's voice cut through the chatter.
"Most of these agencies aren't looking for heroes. They are looking for merchandise. They saw a flashy quirk and a pretty face on TV, and they want to use you to sell insurance or boost their social media following."
He pushed off the wall, walking slowly toward the front of the room. "If you pick an agency because they have a cool logo or a high rank, you are an idiot, and for god sake don't waste your time."
Aizawa let out a tired sigh. "While his delivery is... aggressive, he is not wrong. You have two days to submit your preferences. Choose wisely."
….
The school day ended with a flurry of students discussing their offers.
Shoto was among the last to leave, his mind preoccupied with the 4,000 agencies clamoring for him, and the one specific offer from his father he had no intention of taking.
"Hey, Half-and-Half."
Shoto stopped as Dabi stood by the lockers holding the same tiered bento from last night, wrapped in blue cloth, saying nothing before tossing it over; Shoto caught it on instinct.
"Fuyumi left it." Dabi said quietly. "Take it back to… wherever it came from."
"Understood."
Dabi waved it off, then paused, pulling a small crumpled paper bag from his pocket and tossing that too. "Put this in the box too."
Shoto checked inside: oats.
"Oats?"
"Just play along. My daughter thinks they are magic." Dabi muttered, looking away. "Tell Mom it's from you..."
Shoto nodded, knowing Dabi was aware of his hospital visits since the Sports Festival.
"Toya–"
"It's Dabi." he cut in, eyes flashing.
"My apologies."
"Good. Now beat it."
"Can I ask you something?" Shoto stepped closer, refusing to let the conversation die.
Dabi exhaled, irritated but stopping. "What now?"
"Why didn't you invite me for a work-study?"
Dabi let out a short, dry chuckle. "Use your head, I don't have an agency. I am an assistant teacher, an underground asset."
"That's not it." Shoto said, steady.
He had figured it out during the Sports Festival, thanks to a certain loudmouth - that even if Dabi didn't have an agency on paper, there was one he was closely tied to - enough that it might as well have been his despite not being an official member.
"Do you think I am not strong enough? That my fire isn't as powerful as yours?"
"Yeah." Dabi's hand slipped back into his pocket with a sharp motion. "That's exactly it. You are weak. You are still fighting with half a heart and your father's baggage."
He straightened, gaze hard. "Take the box and go. You're wasting my time."
He turned, took a step, then paused and glanced back.
"And Shoto? Go somewhere no one cares who your father is, and no one knows who your brother was… figure out who you are."
….
[Next Day]
Shoto stood in the quiet, sun-drenched room of the hospital.
His mother, Rei, sat by the window, a book resting in her lap. She looked up as he entered, her face brightening with a gentle, fragile smile.
"Shoto." she whispered. "You are here."
"I brought something." Shoto said, stepping forward.
He set the re-wrapped bento box on the table and pulled out the small, crumpled bag. "Fuyumi sent the food. And... this is from me…"
…he is really bad at lies…
.
….
[To be continued…]
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