Chapter Text
The bar is a leaky place. Rain seeps through the windows and pools at the door. The girl on his left, no older than 16, is undeterred by the dreary atmosphere. She tugs excitedly on his sleeve. He doesn’t bother shrugging her off. He’s built up a tolerance to annoying kids over the years. She’s rambling – fanning over Stain, wondering if he’ll make an appearance despite his recent arrest. Her eyes dart around the room and aloud she starts describing the other faces gathered around the biggest table in the bar. Mostly men. All villains.
They eye her skeptically. One man, hidden by a mask and dressed like a magician, flinches back from her excitement. Another grimaces, rolling the scales on his face.
“Easy,” Dabi mutters to the girl. “You don’t want to blow your job offer.”
The girl quickly calms, but she keeps an eager hold on his coat.
Dabi just sighs and narrows his eyes at the eclectic group before him. Their expressions change from skeptical to uncomfortable as they look from the girl to him. He knows he’s not an easy sight to behold. Purpled scars lay under his eyes and cut across his face to form a permanent grin lined by staples. He may not have an imposing figure being tall, lanky, and stick-thin, but his gnarled face makes up for it.
Dabi takes a glance at Giran who’s hovering by the door.
The man just shrugs and grins, letting the cigarette in his mouth bounce.
“Welcome,” a voice greets.
Dabi turns back to the table and sees a figure of black mist. There’s the vague outline of a man thanks to the well tailored suit the mist wears. Within the wavering darkness are yellow slat eyes.
“Please, take a seat,” the mist says.
The girl gives a wicked smile and darts to a chair.
Dabi shoves his hands in his pockets and saunters to the empty chair next to hers.
Being the last to arrive, the meeting begins. Heading the table is a guy whose face is covered by a disembodied hand. Dabi guesses the villain must have an uglier mug than his own. Hand-man kicks off the conversation.
“You’re all here because you subscribe to the hero killer Stain’s ideology,” he begins in a craggy voice. “I want to offer you all a way to carry out his work.”
The girl wriggles in her chair causing the wood to creak. Handy eyes the movement and underneath the palm of the hand on his face he sneers.
“This group is the League of Villains,” he says. “You all have notable quirks according to the broker and I’m seeking interested parties.”
The man cloaked in magician garb asks, “What for?”
A chapped smile appears under the hand. “I want to destroy hero society. I want to shake the very foundations it stands upon.”
Dabi remains uninterested in his seat. Destruction of hero society is a far cry from Stain’s desire to cleanse it.
“We made a successful attack by infiltrating UA. Unfortunately, All Might didn’t stick to his schedule.”
“That was you guys?” someone among the group comments.
It’s impressive as much as it isn’t. To get through UA security is a feat. Deciding to attack a class of teenagers isn’t.
Shigaraki nods and says, “ Sensei desires the fall of All Might. If we kill the symbol of peace, what will people put their faith in? Taking down the Number One Hero crushes the system.”
The room goes silent as the words sink in. The death of All Might. It’s ambitious. Contributing would earn a villain some insane street credit. Certainly Japan would be shaken but—
A laugh runs out of Dabi, a huff of air like blowing out cigarette smoke.
Heads turn in his direction.
In a low voice he says, “Kill All Might? Everyone here is gathered because of the work of an All Might zealot. Stain upholds All Might as the ultimate hero. Kind of goes against his whole schtick to kill the guy.”
Dabi doesn’t care for Stain. He’s only interested in this meeting for his own wants and needs. The serial killer certainly helped pull back the curtain to reveal the rotten inner workings of the hero system, but no solo figure should be a pillar of judgment. And while destroying hero society via the death of All Might would affect the nation’s foundations, Japan would bounce back.
“That’s an excellent point,” the magician guy pipes up, face obstructed by a mask. “Stain exposes dirty heroes, rids the world of them, and aims to leave behind something better.”
Dabi asks, “What’s supposed to follow all your destruction?”
Heads swivel back to Handy and the guy flinches. It’s as if the question is one he could not have fathomed ever being asked.
“I don’t like you,” he answers maturely.
Ditto , Dabi doesn’t say.
He maintains his cold expression. Everyone else in the room, besides the girl, watches him warily. He just stares at Hand-man, waiting.
“If you disagree so much, then what would you propose?” Handy finally hisses with a piss poor attempt at intimidation. It has no effect on Dabi.
He could take a gamble right then and there. He could lay all his cards out on the table and tell this potential villain group exactly what he wants, but he knows his options are better if he remains only an asset to the League. He holds his stapled hands up in mock defeat.
“I’m not trying to take the reins here,” he says innocently. “If you're the leader here, then I assume you have a plan. But I assume someone else is running this show.”
He can see Hand-man’s teeth glint as his frown pulls wide. The fingers of his actual hands, partially gloved, dig at the wood of the table. The League’s supposed leader is quick to anger in the same way a teenager is easy to goad. All Dabi does is cock a crooked grin and Handy is suddenly on his feet, reaching across the table. Before his fingers can touch Dabi, a circle of mist comes between them. Handy’s hand dips into a portal and the consequence of his quirk never comes.
“Shigaraki Tomura,” the mist warns sternly.
Hand-man – Shigaraki – falls back into his chair, put out by the lack of violence he was able to inflict.
“Apologies,” the mist speaks. “We assure you there are plans in place and we emphasize that we want you in this group.”
“You haven’t given me a good enough reason to join,” Dabi says, unphased by the skirmish. If Shigaraki’s hand had gotten too close, no matter what his quirk can do, the whole bar would be up in flames.
Giran grins from his corner, having expected Dabi’s attitude. He finds another cigarette and enjoys the show.
Shigaraki clearly doesn’t want Dabi to stay, but to have someone walk out would demean his leadership. He’s desperate for firepower and wasn’t expecting resistance. A low-level villain picked up off the street should jump on the opportunity to join the League of Villains without thinking twice. But Dabi is not a low-level villain. He is calloused and calculating.
Everyone else in the room watches the exchange with rapt attention. Half on high alert after Shigaraki’s attack, the other half simply engrossed in the drama.
Dabi speaks again. “I’m also still struggling to understand what antagonizing school children–”
“ Hero students ,” Shigaraki seethes.
“–has to do with shaking up hero society.”
“They provided access to All Might.”
Dabi shakes his head.
“Killing All Might seems more like revenge for whoever is really running this group than an actual means of disrupting hero society.”
Dabi can see that beneath the hand Shigaraki’s eyes bulge with anger.
“ I'm running this group,” he says through his teeth.
Dabi has hit a sore spot. Shigaraki’s sensei is who's really in control. But Shigaraki wants to be. That’s a decent avenue to take. Dabi can work his way in between this frayed power dynamic and get what he wants.
“Sure, killing All Might takes out a friendly face that people trust and rely on. He’s the country’s top hero. But every country has a top hero. And I guarantee you that the Hero Public Safety Commission has a backlog of replacements on hand. Going after All Might will do nothing in the long run. If you want to make a mess of the way things are, then you need to go after the crux of heroism and that’s the HPSC. Take them down, and there’s no more hero ranking, no more regulations, and all the shit they’ve covered up will be out in the open.” He glances around the room. “The Commission has records on every dirty hero Stain was trying to expose. Going after the HPSC will force people to re-evaluate the way hero institutions have been glorified. If you really want to shake up hero society, that should be your target. Going after All Might is a waste of time.”
Dabi’s rant hangs in the room for a moment. Shigaraki isn’t visibly receptive, but he also doesn’t look displeased. It's hard to tell with the dumb fucking hand over his face. A few of the others in the room hem and haw.
“I don't want to overstep,” Dabi adds, “but I thought this group was actually trying to do worthwhile shit. My mistake.”
Slowly, Shigaraki turns to the tall, shadowy figure next to him.
Wavering yellow eyes glance at Shigaraki before settling on Dabi.
“Your plan has potential. But if the Commission catches wind of it, they’ll put all their resources into trying to take us down. We become an even higher risk group if we put their secrets at stake.”
Dabi nods.
It's true. There’s one thing the Commission will always value more than the life of civilians, heroes, and students: their own narrative. It’s the only way they’ve capitalized on hero society in the first place. They are the glue that makes everything in the hero system seem like it’s brick and mortar.
“Then keep up the act that the target is All Might. You already attacked the USJ and declared the death of All Might as your goal. Maintain that image and the Commission won’t see it coming.”
Shigaraki hums in thought while the shadow man flickers.
“I like this plan,” The magician-esque man says, as if his two cents have any sway.
“What about Stain?” The girl next to Dabi whines.
Dabi waits for Shigaraki to express the League’s relation to the Hero Killer, but the girl is only treated with silence. The League doesn’t actually give a shit about Stain’s ideology. Shigaraki just needs a team for his shitty plans.
Dabi rolls his eyes.
“Like I said, the Commission has records on every hero. They’re aware of most misdeeds: abuses of power, civilian casualty cover-ups. Anything you can think of. If all that information gets released, everyone is forced to see the reason for Stain’s work.”
The girl’s pout disappears and she squeals. Her hands clap together and she rocks in her seat.
“Oh, I like this!”
Shigaraki grimaces and under his breath says, “What a brat.”
Right back at you, Dabi thinks.
The girl suddenly pulls on the sleeve of his jacket. “Can I join your group?”
Before Dabi can say anything, Shigaraki straightens from his slouch.
“This is a League of Villains recruitment meeting,” he reminds the group.
Dabi can’t help but smirk. The League’s leader is losing his audience. Dabi might force his hand, no pun intended.
“Okay,” Shigaraki says in his scratchy voice. “Gunning for the Hero Commission. I’d consider that.”
The mist man tilts his gaze towards Shigaraki with a flicker of surprise.
Shigaraki ruminates in momentary silence and then says, “Doing that would make waves. That's what I want the League of Villains to do. Shake the faith society has in heroes.” He sounds less childish now. Separated from his sensei's desire to end All Might, he sounds a little more sensical. He looks at the recruits at the table. “From what the broker has said, you all have the ability to do that.”
The teenager grins. A reptilian man nods in agreement. The magician checks his nails as a modest response to flattery.
Shigaraki’s red eyes sweep over Dabi again. He grimaces and in a displeased voice asks, “so, are you in?”
“Depends on your new plan,” Dabi says with a casual shrug that causes Shigaraki to bristle.
The hand-covered villain breathes through his teeth.
“We haven’t had time to make a new plan yet,” he says.
Dabi just shrugs again and doesn’t say a word.
The man made of wavering purple mist speaks again.
“Allow us to workshop a timeline, Mr…”
“Dabi. Just Dabi.”
“Dabi. Your perspective is insightful and perhaps offers us a more effective path to dismantle hero society.”
A silence falls on the gathered members. A few lean forward in anticipation while Shigaraki sits impatiently. They all wait and, a moment too late, Dabi realizes they are all waiting for him. He didn't mean to cause this much of a stir. There's too much attention on him now, but Dabi supposes he couldn't stop himself. Part of him always wants all eyes on him.
He sighs and sends each face in the room a glare before saying, “Fuck it. I’m in.”
The blonde girl cheers. She grabs his arm and bounces up and down.
“I’m Toga Himiko,” she beams. “I’m so excited to work with you!”
Shigaraki’s eye twitches.
“You’re working with me ,” he growls.
Toga Himiko isn’t the only new introduction.
The man with reptile skin and an outfit not unlike Stain’s introduces himself under the pseudonym Spinner. He presents his eagerness to work with the League by gushing about how this plan will help expose the prejudice against heteromorphs that’s ingrained in the system. He also announces his goal of carrying on Stain’s legacy. Dabi rolls his eyes at that.
With a flourish, the magician, Mr. Compress, formally greets the group, followed by a woman named Magne and a man named Twice. By the end of the meeting, a core group has been established. A date is set for tomorrow, dedicated to charting out a plan. The tension when Dabi and Toga first strolled in the door is washed away by villainous comradery.
“Drinks on the house,” Shigaraki grumbles to dismiss the new members.
Chairs scuff on the floor as everyone stands.
Dabi heads to the door while everyone else heads to the bar. He doesn’t get far. While the others are distracted by the promise of alcohol, Shigaraki peers at Dabi. His voice isn’t loud, but it carries where it needs to go.
“What do you get out of this?” Shigaraki asks. “What’s your end goal?”
Dabi pauses. He keeps his back turned and searches for his cigarettes.
Earlier in the evening his voice was aloof and low, but in this moment, when Dabi speaks, his voice teeters into villainy. His rage and spite seep through, creating a darker sound than anything else he's said all night. “I think I made it pretty clear. I want to see the fall of the Hero Public Safety Commission.”
A grin cracks across Shigaraki’s face.
“I see,” he says, scratching his neck.
Dabi heads to the door, a cigarette between his lips lit by a blue flame.
He lifts up his arm and gives the group behind him a languid wave.
“See you tomorrow, boss, ” he says sarcastically.
He doesn’t have to look back to know that Shigaraki is fuming at the remark.
The street is cold. It’s been a warm Spring, but tonight is still bitter and saturated from the rain. Dabi finishes off his cigarette and flicks it to the ground. He doesn’t bother stomping it out. He lets it smoke in the gutter.
He tugs on his hood and begins walking.
Yokohama nightlife is always bustling. Shops are open late; restaurants get their best business after 10pm. Tourists and locals alike flock to the dazzling lights and warm venues when the sun sinks on the horizon.
Given the cover of the dark, Dabi can usually wander without much fuss from strangers.
He walks on the busy streets and takes time to think. It’s easier for his brain to stay on track when there’s noise to tune out instead of the dead silence of his molding apartment.
Joining the League of Villains is a coincidental stepping stone. Dabi’s been working for Giran since he first found himself on the streets as a walking corpse. As a broker, Giran could get Dabi odd jobs here and there. When he discovered Dabi’s quirk, that’s when the money really started rolling in.
The League had started out as just another suggestion from Giran. Dabi, never one to go in blind, did his research. The group is a mess. The leader acts like a child and his motivations are unclear, but somehow Dabi picked them apart and realized this was the break he needed.
Ahead of Dabi on the street a crowd gathers in front of a shop window. Changing colors from a television reflect on their excited faces. Dabi pauses when he reaches them. He lingers at the back of the pack and watches the screen behind the glass.
It’s a news report from Fukuoka. Live coverage of a villain attack.
The cameras shake and struggle to keep up with the hero on scene.
All they can get are blurs of red.
Hawks is too fast to keep up with.
The crowd watching is breathless, muttering and whispering to each other.
Hawks is a hero no one grows tired of.
The villain is apprehended seconds later and suddenly Hawks is on the ground speaking with officers. He wears an easy, practiced smile and always moves with a controlled demeanor. Nothing ever shows on the surface. On the outside he is permanently flashy and charming. He works so quickly that one could think he does a poor job, that there has to be a flaw somewhere in his work, but there isn’t. He’s efficient and distracting. People always want to know what shampoo he uses or what his feathers feel like. They never stop and think about how his civilian casualty rate is zero. That he has the lowest account of property damage in the top 10. That he’s only 23.
Dabi looks away from screen when the footage cuts to an interview with Hawks.
Somewhere in his chest he still has a heart and it hurts when he can see the gold of Hawks’ eyes. He only allows himself a glimpse of windblown hair and a stubbled jaw before he moves on.
As he leaves the crowd behind, Shigaraki’s question echoes in his head.
What do you get out of this?
Revenge is the easiest answer. The Commission made Dabi who he is. They let him burn. They let his body be usurped by a mad doctor. They’re the reason he fought his way out of a sham hospital at age 16. They’re the reason he’s stapled together to keep from falling apart. They are the reason his family thinks he’s dead and they are the reason he has become a villain.
The most truthful answer is that there is someone Dabi owes. He doesn’t know if Keigo is still Keigo or if he is just the person Dabi sees on TV, but he knows Hawks is a caged bird. A hero who is that perfect and efficient is the result of careful crafting by the Hero Public Safety Commission.
Dabi may want revenge against the organization that tore apart his life, but he also wants to burn the people who made Keigo miserable. If Hawks gets freedom in the process, then that’s a plus. But no longer is Dabi motivated by 16 year-old Touya’s dream of rescuing Keigo. The chance that Hawks is who he is in front of the cameras is too high, but at the very least, Dabi owes him for fucking everything up when they were young.
-
The League of Villains lay out decent groundwork to pick their way into the Commission, though it takes a solid two weeks to get the ball rolling.
It’s clear they’ll need big distractions. Shigaraki eagerly suggests attacking the UA Sports Festival.
“Too many eyes,” Dabi is quick to say.
“We want eyes,” Shigaraki tries to argue, fuming like a boiling kettle.
“UA’s security will be tripled. There will be too many heroes present. And what’s your fucking grudge against those kids?”
The hand on his face is finally off for once, revealing beady eyes and torn skin. Shigaraki wrinkles his nose and those eyes narrow at Dabi, but Kurogiri leans in with interest for what Dabi might propose next.
“It still works to our advantage,” Dabi says. “If everyone is worried about the Sports Festival, there’s going to be less personnel in other places.”
He hasn’t talked this much in a decade.
Smoke has ruined his lungs. He does not sound like he once did. His voice holds a permanent rasp. It’s register is stuck low and he can’t inflect his words with too much emotion or he’ll lose his voice altogether. His first night meeting the League was the first time in a long time that he’s spoken so much all at once. Now it seems he’s stepped into a role where he can’t stop talking.
“We still need numbers,” Shigaraki grumbles.
“You’re our almighty, powerful leader,” Dabi snarks. “Figure it out.”
-
While the core of the League is composed of a psycho vampire teen, a man who can’t keep his personality straight, a magician, a lizard, Magne, and an immature leader supported by a walking cloud of mist, they make good work.
Kurogiri suggested searching for the Commission’s weak points since Dabi couldn’t supply any. Magne and Mr. Compress did some incognito research at the nearest library and found the location of an HPSC annex building. Shigaraki appoints Toga and Spinner to do the infiltration work with Kurogiri’s assistance. For Dabi, Shigaraki has a different role.
“We need numbers,” he says, like a broken record. “Recurring players and others who are expendable. We can’t always be the ones getting our hands dirty.”
This is nothing new, but Dabi indulges Shigaraki a little. He shows that he’s listening by remaining silent and takes pleasure in seeing how it irks Shigaraki, but the young leader continues.
“We need recruits, competent recruits, and you’re our recruiter.”
Dabi scowls.
Shigaraki's face splits with a crooked grin.
“You’re sidelining me.”
“No – you’ve proven yourself to be smart and strategic. You know things about the Commission we don’t and that will be valuable, but my last operation was partially ruined by too many NPCs being involved. We’ll need numbers to pull off what you’re proposing. I trust you to select the right players.”
“That’s Giran’s job,” Dabi tries to argue.
“He can still field you applicants, but he can’t make the call,” Shigaraki says, itching his neck.
Dabi huffs, but he knows this is better than nothing.
He was the one who told Shigaraki he wasn’t trying to take the reins in the first place.
-
Recruiting for the League is a nightmare. He gets earfuls of Shigaraki’s new plans occasionally, but he’s mostly kept in the dark until it’s game time. He hates it and he’s pretty sure Shigaraki only does it because he knows Dabi hates it.
Tonight he walks into the bar at the behest of Shigaraki.
When he enters, Toga jumps at him. She squeezes a knife in one hand while she clings onto his arm with another.
“Dabi, I missed you!” she says.
He wrinkles his nose and tries to shake her off.
She refuses to loosen her hold and he staggers with her weight pulling on his right side until he makes it to the booth Shigaraki has made camp in. Rather than plotting the demise of hero society, Shigaraki is playing video games. His eyes are glued to a handheld console, pinkies out so he doesn’t disintegrate the damn thing when he loses a level.
“Ugly, greasy, and immature. You’re less villainous leader and more perfect gamer stereotype,” Dabi drawls in greeting.
Shigaraki doesn’t even glance at him. He does, however, manage to raise a middle finger.
Dabi considers burning the game right then and there, but he knows it would unleash a toddler tantrum that could take out the entire bar. You learn a few things after working with Shigaraki for a few months.
Before he can find a different way to piss Shigaraki off, an arm comes swinging over his shoulders.
“Dabi!” Twice cheers. “How’ve ya been?” He pats Dabi's chest and leans in close. “ I don’t really care .”
Dabi sags under the weight.
How did he end up with this tiresome bunch?
Mr. Compress and Kurogiri come strolling in.
“Ah, Dabi,” Kurogiri greets. “We just finished plotting out the UA training camp attack. We’d like you to take a look.”
Oh, that’s right, Dabi thinks. I put up with them because somehow they get the job done.
Twice withdraws his arm and pushes Dabi towards the duo.
Compress has been particularly helpful in navigating the two running narratives for the League. There’s the real work - the leads they’re chasing to find the Achilles heel of the Commission, and there’s the facade: causing the fall of All Might. Dabi still doesn’t care for terrorizing teenagers, but Shigaraki has established that as the League’s brand, and Dabi has a feeling Shigaraki is still taking suggestions from his mysterious sensei.
-
Unfortunately, a good plan means having good numbers and Dabi suddenly has to take Shigaraki’s adamant request for more assets seriously. Dabi can at least humor the idea. The Commission isn’t an easy entity to mess with. More quirks in the arsenal can’t hurt. And some sacrificial lambs to keep the Commission off their tail may be necessary, like with the plan to attack a hero student training camp. But so far the recruits have all been idiots. A powerful quirk means nothing if the person wielding it is a homicidal maniac, like Muscular, or in the case of Moonfish, has unpredictable cannibalistic tendencies.
Still, the attack plan goes as well as it can. Three expendable members get caught, only two go rogue, and despite threatening to kidnap random teenagers, the League walks away empty-handed just like they are supposed to.
Stir the pot. Make headlines. Keep the target on All Might’s back. No need to harm hero students that have yet to commit crimes worthy of death in the eyes of Stain the Hero Killer.
The League’s red-herring mission is a success.
-
Three months in and Dabi finds himself on another damned recruitment mission. It never fucking ends. Shigaraki knows it drives him crazy, but Dabi lets it continue because Shigaraki has been deferring to him more and more when it comes to planning.
Still, that doesn't stop tonight's rendezvous from being shitty work. Especially because Dabi is being followed.
He knows he's being followed because he learned how to spot feathers at age 8. He could point them out in cracks, wedged under alley debris, drifting down from the sky, caught in the wind. Tonight he sees them in places most people wouldn't think twice about. One flutters in the air ahead of him, the breeze pushing it along. But Touya recognizes the red pigment and the directional pull of the feather that the wind doesn't cause.
He stops between two shipping containers. The feather floats to the ground.
"What do you want, hero?" he calls out.
His voice is cool, unbothered. To some he'd even sound bored, but inside his chest, his heart pounds so hard he feels it in the seams of his skin.
There's a flutter behind him.
He barely catches the sound of boots landing on the ground.
"I was hoping to talk business with you," Hawks says.
Hearing his voice drives Dabi a little crazy. It's too laid-back, irritatingly casual, but buried deep within the sound is Keigo.
"Don't tell me you're my contact tonight," Dabi groans.
He turns around and there Hawks stands, wings modestly tucked to his back and his billboard smile plastered on his face.
"Didn't think you'd meet with me if I didn't keep the whole hero-thing underwraps," he says.
Dabi assesses Hawks with narrowed eyes.
Hawks doesn't look ready to fight. His feathers would take Dabi out in an instant if he didn't light them up first, but his wings stay relaxed. If Hawks is here to arrest him, that’s gonna be a major problem. If Hawks is here because he knows who Dabi is, that might also be a problem. And if he’s actually here to talk business…
"Why are you here?" Dabi asks, keeping to the shadows.
He takes a gamble and lets his arm go up in flames. Hawks isn’t familiar with blue fire. Recognition doesn’t light up his face. That’s good.
"Whoa, whoa," Hawks says, throwing his hands up. "I'm here for why I said. This is a League of Villains recruitment meeting, right? I wanna join."
Dabi was wrong. This is the worst reason for Hawks to be here. He knows instantly that this is a mission at the behest of the Commission. They've sent their best operative to infiltrate the League of Villains.
"You missed the memo. No heroes," Dabi spits out.
"Aww, you're not even gonna hear me out?" Hawks tries. He sounds childish, whining about not getting his way.
"No," Dabi says. "Go fuck off."
He starts walking away and he prays Hawks flies off, but he's not so lucky. Footsteps follow after him. Dabi turns on instinct and sends out a wave of flames. At the very least, he needs Hawks to keep his distance.
Hawks dodges with ease, only a feather or two catching fire.
"I've got a tragic backstory and everything.” He pats out a flame. "You know fire and feathers don't mix well, right?"
Dabi sends him a deadpan glare and seethes.
"That's the point," he hisses through his teeth.
"C'mon, Dabi, if I wanted to turn you in, you'd already be cuffed at a police station. I'm trying to make an offer. There's a lot I can do for the League. You need a hero."
Dabi snorts a bitter laugh in disgust.
It's a terrible sales pitch, but he decides to humor him.
"Why do you want in?" he asks, short and to the point.
Hawks' answer is a spiel on the injustice of hero society. Restraints on quirks are inhumane, civilians need a wakeup call and heroes need to fall.
"How else can I get some time off?" Hawks finishes.
Dabi recoils at the attempted joke.
The speech is impersonal. It's rehearsed lines fed to Hawks by the Commission. A botched attempt to cater to what the Commission thinks villains want to hear.
"That's a lot of bullshit," Dabi says. "Change your script and try your luck with the next villain group."
He starts walking away again.
This time Hawks doesn't follow.
The hero stays silent and the distance grows. Dabi almost takes his first breath of relief when Hawks suddenly speaks up.
"The Commission treats me like shit. I am not a person to them. I'm not a hero either. I'm a weapon, an asset. I don't want that anymore."
All the falsities in Hawks' voice are gone. Left behind is something flat and exhausted. Honesty.
The hero's change in demeanor is jarring, like a heartbeat flatlining.
Dabi pauses.
Hawks respects the distance between them. He doesn't come closer, but he takes Dabi’s hesitance as a sign to go on.
"I can't escape them on my own. They own every part of my life. Every part. I don't own my agency, I don't own my apartment, I don't own my name. Not anymore."
Somewhere deep down in Dabi, Touya explodes with anger. Dabi, however, doesn't flinch.
"The Commission has taken everything from me." Hawks' voice shakes with emotion. “ Everything. "
Hardened gold eyes stare right through Dabi. Dabi stares back, still untrusting on the surface. Hawks is sharing some of his past. Dabi’s one to know. The truth is refreshing to hear, but Dabi’s aware it's a desperate move. Hawks is hellbent on becoming a League member and that can’t be good.
Dabi wonders what the stakes are for Hawks. If he doesn't get in, what will the Commission do?
"That sounds more like a plea for help than a resume for villainy," Dabi says.
Hawks bristles. It's a good sign for Dabi. In that speech is the truth. Maybe Keigo isn't all gone. But he's still a hero and he's still carrying out a mission.
"I'm not asking for help," Hawks says. "The League wants to disrupt the way things are, right? To take out the symbol of hope so society is forced to either change or fall apart? I can help and in turn maybe I get my freedom."
Dabi’s heart aches.
He wants nothing more than to run away. He’d rather set Hawks ablaze than be this close to him knowing who he used to be. It makes things too messy. It makes Dabi feel unstable. But he doesn’t run.
He knows he's about to make a mistake. Nothing good ever comes from playing with fire, but Dabi has ignored that lesson time and time again.
"I'll talk with the boss," he says after a beat. "Eyes on the inside. He might have an interest in that, but you're going to have to prove yourself."
"I'm at your beckon call," Hawks says with an easy smile.
Dabi hates that. Hawks is just moving from one leash to another.
"Same place, same time next week. If I don't show, you're not in."
Hawks nods. He gives Dabi a salute and moves to take off.
"Hey, hero," Dabi suddenly says.
Hawks waits. Their eyes lock.
"If the League catches wind that you aren't playing for the right team, they will not hesitate to kill you."
And with that, Dabi stalks away. He ignores the tremor in his hands and keeps moving until he's certain Hawks has flown off.