Chapter Text
Natsuo took a suffocating breath before he completely broke down; his pained sobs drowned out the constant ringing of his phone. Natsuo's heart ached with the anguish of seeing his brother on TV. It felt almost as if he were struck by an arrow, ribs constricted around his already sore lungs. His cheeks were flushed and wet, as he wiped a shaking hand across his face.
His brother was a villain?
Classmates stared; the pit in Natsuo's stomach opened another inch. All eyes in the room were on him. He took a few steps back, and grounded himself. The weight settled on his shoulders pushed down in an agonising attempt to throw himself completely off balance.
His brother was a villain.
Natsuo swung his bag over his shoulders and bursted through the door. As he unlocked his car, he had found himself losing his will to fight, knees buckled underneath himself.
His brother was alive.
His brother, Toya, was alive. It shouldn't matter that he's a villain, he's alive.
He's alive?
Natsuo clambered into the seat, grabbed his phone out of his back pocket, and let out an exasperated sigh.
~3 missed calls from Fuyumi
~7 new messages
He questioned the true value of human connection if it meant he would be bothered like this, as his phone retreated rapidly to the back seat. (Author note- he chucks it if it wasn't obvious). His heart rate steadied, reduced to a subtle tap, tap, tap and his crying faded out. The intrusive sound of the engine sent jitters up through his body; he clutched the steering wheel.
He thought about Fuyumi for a while, how distraught she probably is. He thought longer of his mother, who hardly got a chance to spend time with her kids before she was taken away from them.
Natsuo pushed down on the accelerator.
He thought of Shoto, who wasn't old enough, at the time, to truly even know what his brother's favourite food was. Of Enji, who caused this. Natsuo's brows furrowed in disdain. It was Endeavour's fault. Of course it was. When was it not Endeavour’s fault?
His mind raced, like his car, was he speeding? His thoughts constantly revert back to his brother. Could he have done a better job at keeping him safe, like they promised they would? If only he'd listened to Toya more. Would that have changed things?
If he's alive. Why didn't he come back?
Is that even a real question? Who would want to spend another day in that household. Natsuo had taken the easiest way out as soon as he had the excuse of college. In all honesty, it made perfect sense to Natsuo why Toya would run away from home, staging his death - if he were in Toya's shoes, he would have done the same. Maybe Natsuo did such a bad job at protecting his brother that Toya just decided to leave him behind, like Natsuo's doing with Shoto and Fuyumi now.
The tears from earlier reappeared in his eyes.
He should phone Fuyumi back.
He felt that he was going to pass out. He felt that he was about to be sick. He is going to pass out. He pulled over.
Natsuo fished across the back seat, to reach for his phone for the second time in the last few minutes.
Pressing the call button, he waited and took a deep breath. He fanned his face trying to cool down. “Act normal Natsuo” was the thought looping in his head as his sister picked up the phone.
—-
Toya has never felt this level of satisfaction. Is he satisfied?
He felt exhausted, numb. His limbs were heavy, as if carrying the entire weight of the interaction on his back. A muffled noise in the back of his mind whispered his name, blaming him.
“Dabi-” he looked up to see the mildly infuriated eyes of Toga peering back at him. “oh, so now you acknowledge my existence."
“What do you want, Nutcase?” he breathed, resting his head on the palm of his hand.
“Toya-kun, what is up with you today? I've been talking about Ochako's beautifully tattered face, all full of blood, and you didn't even listen one bit” she pouted, and let out a hmph noise before puffing out her cheeks in annoyance.
She carried on talking a few minutes later. Dabi didn't have the mental capacity to stop her. Instead, he let his mind drift back to his reveal, what he'd been planning for years. It was quite anticlimactic really.
He felt satisfied…really he did, seeing the fear in his dear old dad's eyes as he saw what sort of monster his dead son had become. And when he saw Shoto's face, going red with confused rage, Dabi had to physically fight the urge to burst out laughing. There was something missing though.
Was he truly satisfied?
No. This wasn't satisfaction, he needed more. He needed to actually feel something. He needed something. Closure? Revenge? Something. (Author note: Probably mental help, or a really good therapist, that therapist will need a really good therapist too.)
He has to stick to the plan, then he can die peacefully knowing endeavour, the number one hero was brutally killed by his own blood. The failure Enji Todoroki created the day he said “I do”.
The villain that will go down in history.
Dabi.