Chapter Text
A new year was never easy. First years would rush into the school, so much inexplicable joy beaming from their eyes you could almost be blinded it. It's not as if Dabi didn't like seeing all these kids so enthusiastic and excited, he's not a monster. But it was always so humbling seeing their tired faces by the end of it. UA was a hardworking school and it's never failed any student not once. They all made something of themselves but the keyword is 'hardworking'. Dabi's certain everyone had a good time though, despite the hardship.
"Mr. Dabi! It's good to see you again." A teenager nodded at him while he walked past. Many students didn't believe his class was relevant to the hero course but considering how he himself had ended up, he thought very differently. Teaching a bunch of energetic teenagers who were full of ambition wasn't exactly an easy class when your lessons were considered the most boring ever. Dabi didn't disagree but he knew they were important. They would soon learn too.
"Dabi! It's my favourite youngling!" Dabi was barely able to step foot in the staff lounge before being head locked by a familiar blond man, who was way too loud for Dabi's liking. Shoving Present Mic off him, Dabi groaned from the sudden affection. "Every term I swear you just get louder and louder," Dabi starts, rubbing his neck. "And you're not even that much older than me!" He complains.
Present Mic shrugs and lopsidedly grins. Midnight chuckles from the sidelines. "How was your summer?" She inquired, combing her hair with a pair of fingers. The response she gained was a simple shrug and yawn. They were all dressed in their hero costumes, all except Dabi.
Dabi wasn't exactly a hero. He would be there on the sidelines if it was serious, just in case a hero was down he could step in. It rarely happened though, maybe once or twice? Dabi wasn't keeping count. As a child, his number one dream was to satisfy his father and surpass All Might ultimately. Clearly this wasn't the case. Even after working at UA for four years, he still hasn't had the pleasure of meeting the number one hero. Neither has he seen the number two, much to his luck.
Brewing himself a coffee, he ignores Present Mic's complaint about how he's wasting money since he will simply pour it down the sink afterwards. Dabi's body was in shambles, it was a shock that he was still going. Luckily a trip to recovery girl a few years ago somewhat healed the majority of his organs but the scars were irreversible. Purple rotting skin covered below his eyes, neck and chest, then his arms. His arms weren't as severe though, both his arm burns were fading gradually.
Just like Present Mic had predicted, once the coffee was brewed it was sent down the drain as quickly as it arrived. Midnight sighed and took the abandoned mug from inside the sink and began washing it. Just then, the door opened to reveal two more heroes known as Eraserhead and Vlad King. "Morning to you all." Sekijiro greeted. Aizawa looked as if he'd barely had a winks sleep. They all nodded and said hello to each other like normal, until Aizawa glanced sorely at Dabi. "What?" The scarred man asked.
Aizawa beckoned the younger man to follow him outside into the corridor and Dabi simply complied. "Who died?" He asked crossing his arms over his chest. Aizawa sighed and looked down at the ground. "Shoto Todoroki has been placed in class 1-A." He says. Well, that's not good news. If Shoto is here then that means Endeavour is here which also means Dabi is fucked.
Aizawa is the only person who knows of Dabi's lineage, due to past 'interactions' and a lot of talking. It's not been particularly hard living as Endeavour's allegedly dead son for 11 years without telling anyone but it's definitely been irritant to hear all his praises while no one knows the true story. He remembers being only 17, living in an abandoned warehouse, on the pathway to becoming a villain.
He doesn't know what would've happened to him if Aizawa hadn't discovered him trying to rob a simple grocery store.
"So?" He shrugged, hiding the pure shock which tried to come out through his voice. Aizawa raises an eyebrow and looks at the boy skeptically. Dabi sighs and lets his arms fall limply to his side. "He won't remember me and I don't want him to. I want nothing to do with that family." Dabi explains, his tone turning darker and more cautious.
It's as if he's built a glass around himself which threatens to shatter once someone tries to touch it.
Aizawa nods in understanding and leads him back inside the staff room where Midnight is already lecturing Present Mic about going above the average volume. "Seriously! It's like you want me to go deaf!" She reprimands, hands on her hips. Vlad King lent against a wall, watching the interaction go down.
"We have the assembly soon need I remind you both?" Aizawa stated, pointing towards the clock which was dangling from its hinge in the corner of the room. The pair looked up and quickly fixed their clothes and brushed through their hair.
Dabi rolled his eyes and made his way out, Vlad King trailing behind. "Pardon me, but I realised I've never witnessed a teaching of yours go down so I was wondering during the term if I could observe a lesson of yours?" He questioned, keeping a distance. Vlad King was one of the teachers Dabi never got incredibly close to. They didn't hold a grudge against each other it was more just schedules got busy quick. "Sure I guess, don't expect much though it's boring as." Dabi agreed and rubbed the back of his neck uncomfortably.
Vlad King chuckled and stiffly nodded. "So I've heard. I think it's fascinating though, to be honest. At first I didn't see the point but after all these years I think it's clever." He says, earning a surprised glance from Dabi. "You do? Huh. You'd be the first." He goes back into his grumpy demeanour within a matter of seconds. Taking a short peak into the hall where first years were being held, he spots the half red, half white hair faster than flash. Shoto.
Groaning, he pulls away and rests his head against the wall. Vlad King doesn't seem to notice his distress and begins a conversation again. "I like your outfit, what were you going for?" He asks lightly. Dabi opens his eyes and stares at the blood hero. He looks down at his clothes and grumbles something incomprehensible. He had slung on a pair of black jeans that were on the verge of ripping, a white plain T-shirt with some knee length boots. What was he going for? "Bored teacher who wants to get the fuck out of here, probably." He mumbles quietly to himself.
Just then, they both hear a large amount of commotion coming from inside the hall so it's a fair assumption that Aizawa and the other pros had entered. That's Dabi and Vlad King's cue to come over.
Present Mic and Midnight were taking in all the gleeful laughter and expressions while Aizawa was patiently waiting for everyone to settle. Cementoss, Ectoplasm and Nezu were sitting on the selection of chairs alongside Midnight and Present Mic behind Aizawa.
Vlad King and Dabi swiftly sneaked in and sat down in their designated seats, waiting for the chattering to silence. Eventually it drowned out to which Aizawa took the opportunity to get his speech in.
"Hello, first years. I'm sure many of you know who myself and my other colleagues are. If you don't then I am Eraserhead, but to you all I am Mr. Aizawa. I will pass over to Principal Nezu shortly and he will answer any questions you may have," Aizawa starts. "First off, you're all here because you passed the entrance exam. That's obvious. But the matter of how long you will stay isn't clear. We all encourage you to try your hardest and come to us if you need anything." He finishes before backing away over to Nezu, who takes place in front of the microphone.
His speech is the same old as every year causing Dabi to let his head fall back and close his eyes. "Any questions?" Nezu asks which results in about seven hands to rise up quickly. "Yes you! Green haired child!" Nezu points over to a particular kid, big bright eyes with dark greenish black hair. Dabi lets one eye peak open.
"What type of classes will we be taking?" He inquires. Dabi refrains from rolling his eyes. This is a hero school so obviously hero shit. Well, including half of the same lessons from middle school. Nezu begins listing them off despite the ridiculous question. "You will be attending the same type of classes as your previous school but with the addition of hero training and weaponry training!" He explains. A few more hands rise.
Dabi mentally prepares himself for an overload of questions about the hero course. Last year they just kept coming and coming; he's almost positive they spent about an hour there answering questions.
"What's weaponry training? What do we do that for?"
To that, Dabi furrows his brow and brings his head up to look at the crowd. Students nod in agreement and Nezu glances over to Dabi. The scarred man groans, standing and walking lifelessly over to the mic letting the hybrid step away.
"I will take any questions about that class." He offers, resting his arms on the podium. He skims his vision around the hall, ignoring the red and white haired boy. "I will have a more detailed explanation when the time comes but for now i will say that it's about training your usage of weapons. For example, if you get injured and for some reason cannot use your quirk you have the ability to use a gun, sword or knife." Dabi explains, expecting all other questions to fade out. Some hands stay raised. Sighing, he nods over to a black haired girl with her hair tied back into a ponytail.
"Why do we need it?" She says. Dabi resists rolling his eyes again. Didn't he just answer this? "Like I said, if you ever get injured during a fight or battle you have the knowledge of knowing how to use a weapon. It also benefits those who cannot use their quirk but still want to be able to participate in stuff." He finishes, avoiding anymore questions. Thankfully, many hands go down but he can hear some complaints spread across the pupils. Not many people were ever a fan of his classes but he didn't really care.
Sitting back down, he returns back to his previous position, letting his eyes close and doze off which earned himself a nudge from Midnight.
The next half hour was a drag, Dabi barely kept his eyes open. As expected, students obsessed and chimed over the hero course, buzzing with almost unbearable excitement. Dabi is taking class 1-A for weaponry training last period, which he is not excited for, by the way. He's used to training and fighting, but alongside his estranged brother? Yeah, no thanks.
Dabi is lead out of the hall with Cementoss who stays quiet. They aren't particularly close either but it's not awkward or anything. "Dabi. Can i speak to you?" He hears Midnight's voice from behind him. Dabi nods and walks over to the secluded area she is placed at. "What's wrong?" He asks her. He tries to ignore the bushy mess covering her head - she should really start taking care of her hair more.
"All Might is coming here to teach hero training," She began. Even the name sent shivers down Dabi's spine and he refrained from clenching his fists. "We were wondering if you could help him settle in? Obviously we would assist in it but since you're so much more experienced in physically training the teenagers—" Dabi cut her off with a hesitant nod. "I'll be there, just let me know what time." He agrees, turning around desperate to avoid any more of the conversation. Midnight smiles and backs away, allowing the purple scarred man to exit.
Perfect. It's bad enough his abandoned brother is attending this school and now he has to spend an even longer amount of time with him? Brilliant, just brilliant. Dabi looks up at the ceiling as he walks, wondering what he could've possibly done to deserve this. Stepping into his office, he lets himself slump down limply into his chair and finally manage to catch his breath. Even just the assembly had taken a shit load of energy out of him. Spinning around to face his laptop, he starts off by logging on and looking for any emails addressed to him.
He assumed most of it was rubbish until he saw a familiar name quickly pop up in a notification.
"ALL MIGHT HAS SENT YOU A MESSAGE."
Arching an eyebrow, Dabi clicks on it and begins to skim through the untidy paragraph. It's clear the no1 pro doesn't do this often.
'Hello Mr Dabi sir! I'm sure you are well aware of who i am so I won't spend a long amount of time giving an introduction! I believe Midnight explained i would be in need of your assistance for my new class? Here is the timing I need you for today!
CLASS 1A: 12:45-13:55PM
CLASS 1B: 14:45-15:55PM
If you are able to attend both I would be overjoyed!
Thank you for reading!
From, All Might'
His enthusiasm to teach almost made Dabi confused on whether to laugh or cry. He remembers how nerve wracking it was teaching his first class, especially since they were all overpowered brats. But you quickly realise that despite all the commotion and fussing from the younglings, you are the one in charge. Not them.
Checking the time which read 10:57AM, Dabi let out a sigh of relief. Three more hours. In the meantime he had to prepare for his own class with the upper year. Luckily, they all came to enjoy his lessons eventually (if we excuse the fair number of people who refuse to show up).
Dabi's classroom wasn't very big, nor very small. It was average at best. Some of the wallpaper was ripped off, the ceiling had a sticky piece of gum attached to it and one of the glass doors leading inside was half cracked. Dabi's certain there's a glass shard lying inside the floorboards somewhere.
Strangely, everyone attended the lesson today. It must be that 'new year, new me' shit he heard people spouting about. Dabi taught everyone how to do more tricks this year. It's usually about fighting, agility and reflexes for the first few semesters then we get onto the fun stuff. Although, Dabi always thought the battling was way cooler.
Soon enough the clock struck 12:45 and that was Dabi's cue to enter the hero course environment. Which he despised.
It hasn't been Dabi's dream to become a hero in over a decade. He hates almost everything it stands for. Well, hated. He wouldn't be working here if he did. He may not hate heroes, but he hates the concept of heroic ideology. No one helped him for over two years. He was living on the fucking streets and scavenging for food in the bins. It took two years for Aizawa to find him.
Two years.
"Hello, Dabi! It's great to meet you!" All Might beamed reaching out to shake his colleagues hand. They both stood there in an awkward silence for a few seconds until it was interrupted by a loud boom. "Let's get going with it already!" A blond boy shouted, unnecessarily loud. All Might turned his attention away from Dabi and focused on the class now.
Sitting down on a bench, Dabi brought out a notepad to write down tips and observations throughout the lesson.
That Midoryia kid will definitely need some special attention often. He's determined to succeed and has a beautiful passion for heroes, but he's not going to go far if they don't start giving him support soon. His quirk is extremely hard to figure out in addition to this which the teachers will need to work on.
Bakugou has a fiery and confident personality which could get in the way of his training and the possibility in itself of becoming a future pro hero. His ego is holding him back which could certainly become a major problem. Though, his quirk has a lot of potential and it already seems like he can control it well which is a good sign.
Uraraka will need some working on her ability and confidence. She seems bright and strong but the side effects of her quirk may leave some long lasting physical pain. Having to hold your breath while using your quirk is not ideal but we can easily figure out a way to support that. The nausea isn't that big of a problem and it will hopefully progress the older and maturer she becomes.
Yaoyorozu has incredible potential. Her quirk is both crafty and powerful which is very useful in terms of becoming a hero. She just needs to have stronger judgement for herself. No other complaints really.
The notes went on and on for different students and then came up the half and half kid. The boy who was previously the bane of Dabi's existence.
It was obvious about Shoto's resentment towards Endeavour. He refused to take control of his fire quirk, his right side much more prominent. While understanding the anger, he will need to adjust to his left side eventually if he wants to succeed in becoming a pro.
That's what Dabi would've thought if he wasn't so focused on trying to not puke. He thought this would be easy but fuck he was wrong. Seeing his younger brother felt like a punch to the gut. He abandoned him.
He left him.
Bouncing one of his legs, Dabi swallowed the handful of bile which arose in his throat. He still had to make notes despite his internal crisis. Shoto won't even recognise him. Saying that, does he even have the right to address him as Shoto? Todoroki sounds too weird. Maybe it should just stay as half and half kid.
"Fuck." He mumbled, running a hand through his hair. The burn on his brother's face was still exposed, the trauma from childhood was still there.
Part of him wants to scream and run away, the other part wants him to run over and maybe say hi to him. Neither would nor will happen. So he settles with muttering words of encouragement to himself and resting one hand on his chest while writing with the other. It comes out incredibly messy.
Luckily the lesson is over soon enough and he can finally relax without being tormented by the one specific nightmare which was supposed to be left in the past.
Life never was on Dabi's side.
Turning around to look at who tapped on his shoulder, he sees a pair of grey and blue eyes stare back at his. "Are you the weaponry guy?" He asked bluntly. Dabi could feel his throat close up. He frowned and looked around, only to be met with an empty classroom.
"Uh.. yeah. Shoto, right?" Dabi could feel a bubble brewing up in his throat but, reluctantly, decided to engage in conversation. He had to remain professional if he didn’t want the other Pros to catch on. Shoto nodded. "My dad doesn’t like your class." Shoto said. Dabi rolled his eyes and crossed his arms.
"Great. Anything else?" He asked, irritation running through his tone. Shoto stayed silent for a moment until Dabi realised his eyes were stalking all over his scars. He often got asked about them but no one ever found out the truth. He’d shut it down with a quick 'how‘d your mum mess up your face so badly?'. It shut kids up quickly. The smart ones knew to only stare.
"Those scars look bad. A fire? How‘d it happen?" The kid asked, an eyebrow arching. Dabi internally groaned, his eyes closing for a second. "How‘d your mum mess up your face so badly?" The words left Dabi‘s mouth before he even had time to process it. He couldn’t even believe what he, himself, had said. It was almost like a reflex after all these years.
Shoto looked surprised before his lips curved into a soft frown. "Sorry, I shouldn’t have been so nosy. I’ll get going." That’s all Dabi heard before a door was slammed shut. He leant back against a wall and let a groan seep out of him.
"Fuck. I hate children." He whined, throwing a hand to his face.