You hadn’t expected to be invited to stay.

You’d just come to drop off a thick folder of hero reports from the Commission — updates, mission clearances, and incident summaries that Endeavor needed to sign before the week’s end. You’d barely been standing at the door for two minutes when Fuyumi had appeared from around the corner, apron still tied around her waist and her face brightening like dawn.

“Oh! You’re the pro that was sent, right?” she said warmly. “You don’t have to rush off, do you? We’re just about to eat.”

“I wouldn’t want to intrude—”

“Nonsense.” Fuyumi’s smile was firm. “Please. Stay.”

Behind her, Natsuo leaned on the doorway, arms crossed, lips twitching. “You might as well. Dad’s less unbearable when there’s a guest.”

“Hey,” Endeavor grunted from his spot at the table, eyes flicking up from the papers. “I’m right here.”

“You sure are,” Natsuo muttered.

You bit back a smile, holding the folder a little tighter. “I can just leave these—”

Then came another voice, low and edged like smoke. “Didn’t think we were doing dinner with heroes again.”

Dabi — Touya — lounged against the far wall, wearing the same smirk that could cut glass. His white hair caught the kitchen light like embers, and his eyes scanned you with open curiosity. “New recruit or just braver than most?”

You met his gaze evenly. “Just doing my job.”

His smirk widened. “Cute answer.”

“Enough, Touya,” Endeavor said, tone tired but not biting.

Dabi shrugged, unbothered. “Didn’t say anything wrong.”