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Dabi wasn’t sure when it started, but he found himself spending less time with his usual crowd and more time with Tenko. It wasn’t something he actively decided; it just... happened.
At first, his friends didn’t notice. Dabi was good at slipping away without drawing attention, and besides, they always assumed he had his own reasons for bailing. They decided that Dabi was just too mysteriously nonchalant or something. But lately, it had become harder to ignore.
It wasn’t just his absence—it was the way he changed when they did see him.
The soft, almost serene look Dabi wore when he was with Tenko was jarring to those who knew him as the sharp-tongued, cocky guy who never let anyone get too close. It was way too ironic.
One of his friends, Hiro, was the first to say something (who dared to say something).
“Hey, man,” Hiro said one day, leaning against a locker as Dabi pulled out his books for class. “You’ve been ditching us a lot lately. What’s up?” His tone as curious as possible.
“Nothing,” Dabi replied without looking at him, his tone as casual as ever.
“‘Nothing,’ huh?” Hiro smirked, crossing his arms. “Does ‘nothing’ happen to have white hair and giant blue eyes?”
Touya froze for a fraction of a second—just enough for Hiro to notice.
“Holy shit, it is about him!” Hiro laughed, nudging Dabi with his elbow. “Dabi’s gone soft for the quiet kid! I knew something was up!”
“Shut the fuck up,” Dabi muttered, slamming his locker shut.
“C’mon, don’t deny it,” Hiro teased, grinning. “We’ve seen you, man. You’ve been smiling. Like, actually smiling. It’s creepy.”
“Yeah, yeah, whatever,” Dabi said, brushing past him. But Hiro’s words stuck in his head longer than he cared to admit.
The real drama began when Tenko showed up one day while Dabi was hanging out with his group by the basketball court.
The group was mid-conversation, Hiro cracking some dumb joke that had the others in stitches, when a familiar voice cut through the noise.
“Touyaaa!”
Everyone turned to look, stunned into silence.
No one called Touya by his real name—not at school, not even his friends. He was Dabi, untouchable and cool, the guy who never let anyone get too personal.
But here was Tenko, standing a few feet away, clutching his phone nervously as he looked up at Touya with those big, hopeful eyes.
The shift in Dabi’s demeanor was instant. His usual sharpness melted away, replaced by a soft smile that no one in his group had ever seen before.
“What’s up?” Touya asked, his tone light and easy as he walked over to Tenko.
Tenko looked down at his phone, then back up at Touya, his hands moving in small, excited gestures.
“There’s this movie,” he said, his voice quiet but filled with a kind of breathless enthusiasm. “I wanna watch it with you, can we?”
Touya didn't even bother asking for the genre or the summary; his smile widened. “Sure, why not? My place then.”
Tenko nodded, his cheeks turning pink as Touya reached out to ruffle his hair gently, like it was something too casual.
“Cool,” Touya said, his voice warm. “I’ll grab snacks on the way home. See ya.”
Tenko nodded again, unable to hide a bigger grin as he turned to leave.
The moment he was out of sight, Dabi turned back to his group—only to find them staring at him like he’d grown a second head.
“What?” he asked, frowning.
“‘What?’” Hiro echoed, his jaw dropping. “Dabi—Touya—who the hell was that?”
“Tenko,” Dabi said simply, walking back to his spot.
“We know who he is,” one of the others chimed in. “What we want to know is why you’re suddenly inviting him over. You’ve never invited any of us to your place.”
“That’s ‘cause I don’t like you,” Dabi quipped, leaning against the wall with a smirk.
“No, seriously, though,” Hiro pressed, his expression a mix of curiosity and disbelief. “What’s the deal with him? You’re acting... weird. Like, nice-weird.”
Dabi shrugged, trying to play it off. “He’s cool. I like hanging out with him.”
But his friends weren’t convinced.
“Man, I don’t get it,” one of them muttered with a face of puzzlement. “You could have anyone you wanted, and you’re choosing him? He doesn’t even talk most of the time.”
Touya’s expression darkened. “Careful,” he said, his voice low. “Don’t talk 'bout him like that.”
The warning in his tone was enough to shut them up—for now.
Later that day, as Dabi walked home, he replayed the moment with Tenko in his head. The way Tenko had called out to him, so casual and sweet, like it was the most natural thing in the world.
It was such a small thing, but it made Dabi’s chest feel weirdly warm.
He wasn’t blind to how different he’d become around Tenko. The teasing, the cocky remarks—it was all still there, but there was something else now, too. A softness he couldn’t quite explain, a need to protect Tenko from everything, even himself.
By the time he got home, he’d made up his mind.
No matter what his friends thought, no matter what anyone else said, Dabi was going to keep that smile on Tenko’s face.
Because somewhere along the way, that smile had become the most important thing in the world to him.