Chapter Text
Manicured fingers cup his jaw, twisting and tilting his head at various angles for thorough appraisal. Wing-tipped eyes study him critically, making sure the hand off crew polished the goods up to her high standards. Breath held, Touya awaits the verdict.
A mere two hours ago the train had finally reached the Capitol. For the last hour of the ride Touya and Takami had secluded themselves in their own lodgings. After being left with only Aizawa's cryptic advice about submitting themselves completely to the whims of their stylists, their mentor vanished into yellow nylon and taffeta and they had been left with nothing else to do. They had decided that meditating on what would be coming up next separately would be the best use of the rest of the trip’s duration. Therefore it wasn’t until they heard the whistle signaling their arrival that they came out.
Pulling into the station, both tributes had watched through the window as citizens of the Capitol swarmed the streets to get a peek at the arriving tributes. Hundreds stood in wait, some jumping high to see the event. Gawking faces stared back at Touya wherever his eyes landed. Everyone seemed to have colorful hair or over the top body modifications. Touya read a banner that read out “Welcome Brave Fighters” and had to hold back a derisive snort.
Takami had waved back at everyone he could see, smiling and winking in abundance. At one point he even blew out a kiss to an ugly little purple man who mimed catching it with a swoon. Touya's face had contorted in affrontation at the sight. He once again looked upon Takami with an eye of doubt. His attitude was vastly different from what it had been at the start of their journey.
Maybe the scaredy cat act really had been just that: an act. Touya couldn't let his guard down for a second. For all he knew, everything has been a big set up. Even that day years back could have been a calculation of odds.
And okay, fuck, maybe it had been a ridiculous reaction and maybe he really does need to get his paranoia in check. But it was in his nature to be mistrustful.
Takami had caught his soured gaze in response to the fanservice and shot an exasperated look back, shaking his head at the evident distrust on Touya’s features.
" What? We have to make a good impression if we want sponsors." Takami tutted. "It wouldn't hurt for you to try to act more friendly, too . Our survival will be dependent on these people's favor, hot stuff ."
Touya feels his cheeks glow warm at the memory. The name had been new and unexpected, falling from those charismatic lips so naturally that Touya had felt sucker punched.
He had blushed at the time as well, but luckily Takami had already shifted his attention back to the crowing masses of the station and didn't notice. He didn't need to know the effect the flirtatious name had on Touya when Touya didn't completely understand it himself.
The fingers currently holding Touya's chin shift to smush his cherried cheeks together. Touya feels stupid as his lips protrude out into a pucker. He probably looks like one of the fish Fuyumi would catch during the summer.
A feminine hum of approval rings out from in front of him and the fingers retract to dip lower and trail along his bare chest. The ghost feeling of red acrylic nails has him on edge as they barely scrape across his skin.
Once they'd set foot on the platform they had been immediately swooshed off into the hands of their stylist teams to be plucked and butchered. Hands had immediately latched onto Touya, tugging him this way and that, his clothes being ripped off, his body spun in circles. He'd nearly blacked out from the dizzying rush around him as he was dragged off on the whims of the stylists.
And the team had fussed over everything. It was hard, but he'd done his best not to resist as Aizawa had instructed. His head stylist was only to show herself once the other crew members had scrubbed his skin raw, shaved him like a naked mole rat, and shot holes through his body.
Touya would never understand the reasoning behind body modification and the Capitol's obsession with poking wounds through their skin with metal and jewelry at the risk of infection. It hurt like a bitch. (That wasn't to say he didn't find the quadruple helix piercings in both of his ears to be flattering when he'd been given a small hand mirror to check them out. He just didn't understand the necessity of it.)
Now, clean and presentable by the Capitol's standards, the crew has stepped back for the head stylist. Mina, a girl with bright pink skin and bubblegum skin had giggled when she declared him to finally look like a "real human being". It was bewildering, coming from a girl who looked like she belonged from another planet.
Touya expected the head stylist to look just as otherworldly, but was shocked when a woman stepped out in a very well fitting pinstripe pantsuit, her ample assets filling out the attire artfully. She was stunning, with wild black hair flowing down her back and elegant high heels lifting her off the ground. Everything about her screamed natural beauty and you could tell she knew how to flaunt it. Glacier blue eyes had him pinned from behind red cat eye glasses the moment their gazes locked. His heart nearly hammered out his chest when her grin turned cheshire.
After introducing herself as Kayama Nemuri, she'd been quick to get handsy. Which is how they find themselves in the present, the pads of her fingertips trailing down the curves of his body. Her digits stop right above his hip bones and he flinches when she suddenly claps inches from his face.
"Ahhh, the muscle definition on young men is just to die for! You're scrawny, but you can tell you still get quite a workout~," Kayama gushes. She paces a small circle around him, before leaning lasciviously into his space. "So what's your secret? Wait, let me guess. Passionate nights with a forbidden lover? Oh, I'd love that! I bet that's it. Feel free to spill the gossip and don't leave out any of the juicy details. I'm a slut for a good affair story."
One of the team members, a woman named Uwabami who wears too much perfume, laughs along with Kayama at the idea, almost like there's some hidden inside joke. Touya doesn't know the punchline. His face feels flaming hot at this point, the blush from earlier only deepening.
"I- there's no one?" God, he wishes he didn't sound so confused and small in the presence of these intimidating women.
"Oh. Pity." Kayama pouts, her plump painted lips pursing in a mock of disappointment. Soon though her energy redoubles in a way that's reminiscent of a certain escort, and Touya finds himself taken aback once more. "But don't worry! Once I'm through with you, the whole nation will want in your pants."
Touya grimaces. He doesn't want the whole nation in his pants. Kayama will be in charge of his outfits, this first one being his introductory outfit and he hopes her taste in costumes is sensible and not at all like the disasters of the past.
For their official introduction, the tributes will get paraded through a stadium by district order to greet the Capitol while announcing their chosen names. Usually the tributes wear themed outfits that represent what their District is known for. District 12 so happens to be known for their coal, and in the past, the stylists for District 12 have seemed to be uninspired or at a loss for what to do with the dismal district they were assigned.
Usually they just slap on some coal miner uniform and call it a day. The worst case though was 4 years back when the tributes had come out butt-naked, covered solely in charcoal dust. Touya wouldn't be too surprised if Kayama felt inspired to send him out as a sexy coal miner with the way her eyes are hungrily trailing over him. He shudders. Please , anything but that.
"How do you feel about fire?" She asks abruptly.
Touya freezes, unable to respond immediately.
Fire? What does she mean? What is she planning? Every cell in his body is telling him whatever she has planned is bad news. Nothing good comes from fire.
"I drafted a few ideas while waiting based on the info Aizawa sent me on you. I think we can make a real impact, kid."
Touya still doesn't say anything. What is she getting at? What did Aizawa tell her? When did Aizawa tell her?
Kayama reaches into her blouse where the top few buttons are undone and pulls out a small notebook. Flipping through the pages, she hums happily until she finds what she's looking for. "Here, this is what Hakamada and I were able to come up with while we were waiting for you and Takami to be prepared."
She holds up the paper for Touya to see and he inhales sharply. The crude sketch of what appears to be him is dressed in all black, from head to toe. It's simple, the style something Touya could see himself choosing. Plain white shirt, tight dark jeans, solid leather combat boots. He almost doesn't recognize it wholly as him at first though because the figure in the drawing has inky midnight hair. Touya thinks he vaguely remembers them dying his hair earlier and reaches up to fiddle with the tips. Huh.
But that's not what's important.
Most important is the long black coat the paper version of himself is wearing. It is the centerpiece of the outfit and nothing about it is as simple as it sounds. Not by a long shot. The design is worrying at the least, downright alarming at the most. Namely, it's the blue fire rising from the sleeves and bottom hem, the flames licking and curling up the form of his paper body.
No way is that going to work. It'll burn him. Is she crazy? Touya snaps his head back up to her face in panic. She catches the fright in his eyes with an easy smile.
"Don't worry, we found a way to make artificial flame. It won't produce any actual heat and won’t be a danger to your body. Plus, the chemical burns the same brilliant blue as your eyes! You'll be the coal that fuels the nation's gossip for years to come: Dabi, the man on fire."
Touya's at a loss for words. Where to begin? There's no way he can go through with this. He has to say something, has to stop her. Aizawa's instructions be damned.
Instead, he weakly croaks out, "Dabi?"
"Yeah! I took the liberty of choosing a name for you! It means cremation. I think it fits the whole aesthetic you've got going on. A real edgy bad boy charm. What do you think?"
Touya frowns. If by aesthetic she meant the burn scars covering 70% of his body that was a very untasteful joke. Still, "Dabi" has certain ring to it. It feels like being reborn from the ashes of his past, as though the boy who went into that mine and died five years ago is finally being acknowledged at last.
"...It's fine."
"Hah! Told Aizawa you'd love it."
"Love is a strong word."
Kayama winks, "Loaded, too."
Touya lets out a sigh, submitting himself to this mad woman's fancy for the upcoming hours. Hopefully, he'll be able to escape a fiery death for the second time tonight.
He sees Aizawa again right before he is to board the chariot used to parade around the tributes. Takami has yet to appear, and it's got him anxious. They go on last, but District 8 is already being pushed out and District 12 won't be too far behind. He hopes his mentor has something for him to calm his nerves.
"Calm down. You look like you're being forced to swallow glass." Yeah, that was definitely helpful. Touya glares daggers at Aizawa. The caffeine addict just shrugs them off, his aloof demeanor impenetrable. "Seriously, relax. Trust me if you don't trust them."
And that… that actually works, strangely enough.Something unwinds in Touya's core and a pulse he hadn't been aware of vanishes from the edges of his mind.
"Takami will be out soon. His costume requires a bit more effort than yours."
Touya doesn't know what could be more effort than consuming blue flames that defy nature's laws, but the answer comes swiftly when he spots Takami finally pushing through to their designated launch spot.
He's impossible to miss, considering his back is dwarfed by massive golden-yellow wings. Holy fuck.
"You clean up nicely~." Takami teases when he gets close. "Black really suits you, hot stuff."
"What the fuck are you wearing," Touya demands in lieu of any greeting, disregarding both the nickname that makes his head fuzzy and any pretense of tact. He could care less right now. Those wings are an eyesore.
Takami stops and makes a show of looking down at himself and then back up slowly. He blinks a couple of times in faux confusion, his voice low and the perfect pitch of innocence. "Uhhh, khakis?"
Touya wants to punch him. And he would if it was allowed. Stupid game rules prevent that though. From the way Takami's lips quirk up into an infuriating grin,Takami knows it too. Yeah, just wait until we're in the arena, fucker. "You know what I meant."
Takami's smile turns brighter, happier, and not the least bit disingenuous. He twirls, feathers slapping Touya in the face. "I'm the canary in a coal mine!"
"So, a glorified tool whose sole purpose is to die for others?" Touya deadpans.
For a split second Takami's spinning falters. His face seems to slip, but whatever expression he makes passes before Touya can get a read on it. He bursts out laughing in the next moment, facing Touya fully once more. "Haha, oh my god, Todoroki. You really don't miss a beat, huh?"
"Stop singing, birdy."
"Ouch!" Takami throws a gloved hand over his heart. The other is still wrapped around his stomach from his obnoxious guffawing.
The bird looks ridiculous with his golden accents, baggy khaki pants, and matching fur trimmed jacket. Touya notes they'd pierced Takami's ears, too, his with black diamonds. Takami looks every bit like the fried chicken he's about to be.
Touya can't stop himself from sending back a wild grin.
Clearing his throat, Aizawa interrupts to call them back to attention. It's almost their turn, District 11 just taking off. They climb up into the chariot with the help of Kayama and Takami's stylist Hakamada.
"Remember the flames won't burn you guys. Just stand tall and show them how your youth shines." Kayama assures. "Oh! And hold hands! It'll be sensational!"
Touya's about to protest, but a firm hand slides into his palm and grips. He whips to Takami in surprise, but the other man isn't looking at him, his head ducked into the high collar of his jacket. He wants to argue about it, recapture Takami's attention, but Kayama dips down right after and sets a torch to his jacket with no warning. Now he's the one clinging to the palm in his for dear life. A light squeeze responds back.
He barely registers that Hakamada sets the flame to Takami's wingtips as well. Their chariot lurches forward.
Suddenly, blinding lights are overhead and Touya has to force himself not to squint from the glare. Thousands of people fill the stands of the large stadium, incomparable to the amount at the station. The symphony of noises is so loud they threaten to drown out Touya's thudding heart beat as he sees a flicker of blue jump up to his elbows.
“Do you trust this not to burn us?” He asks.
“Hell no.” Touya should feel bad about his death grip, the tears on his knuckles screaming at him, but Takami seems just as committed to cutting off his circulation.
Once they fully enter the limelight, the roar of the crowd dwindles and everyone hushes in awe. Touya can hear the commentator gasp, forgetting to announce them, as District 12 makes themselves known without any call to introduction necessary. When the announcer finally seems to catch himself a moment later, the mic fumbling with a whine, he carries on with his job. "And here we have our two fiery beacons from District 12: Dabi and Hawks!"
"Hawks?" Touya turns his head to Takami and his breath catches when he sees the wings once more. The majority of the golden feathers have been devoured by the blue flame, but instead of disintegrating into ash they've changed hue to a vibrant red in the wake of the trailing embers. The crimson is just as fierce as the dangerous grin Takami presents to Touya, challenge in his eyes. He’s both a warning and a bird of prey.
And oh fuck, these flames must be burning him, because Touya feels heat engulf every inch of his skin. Biting his lip, he raises his head to bare his teeth at the onlookers. He doesn't even mind the flames anymore as they travel up his arm, waving to the adoring crowd. Takami tunes into his energy and lifts their joined hands for the audience to applaud.
A match has been lit, and Dabi is going to dominate this shit show.