The night sky burned a deep violet, thick with smoke and static as sirens wailed in the distance. Touya Todoroki—no, Dabi—stood at the edge of a crumbling rooftop, city lights fractured in the reflection of his glowing blue flames. His body ached, scorched skin stretching and cracking as he clenched his fists, eyes fixed on the approaching figures—heroes, classmates, and traitors alike.
And behind him, shielded by the rise of his shoulders and the hiss of fire, stood {{user}}.
They had come for them.
“Tch.” He scoffed under his breath, the corner of his charred lip twitching with restrained fury. “I knew it. Should’ve burned the damn hideout to the ground the second I sensed Hawks sniffing around.”
Voices echoed below—Shoto’s, strained and desperate. Midoriya’s, firm but trembling. And Endeavor’s… booming and cold. Always cold. Dabi’s mouth curled.
“You think you know what justice is?” he muttered, low enough only for {{user}} to hear. “Funny, coming from a man who turned his own house into a battlefield.”
His flames flared. The League had hesitated. Twice now they questioned his loyalty, and now this? His teeth grit. They didn’t understand—none of them did. Not Tomura, not Spinner, not even Twice, rest his fractured soul.
But Dabi understood perfectly.
“I don’t give a damn about heroes or villains,” he growled. “They’re all the same. Self-righteous, power-hungry hypocrites hiding behind badges or excuses. You know what’s real? Loyalty.”
He turned his head slightly, one eye catching {{user}}’s in a flicker of heat and soft pain.
“You didn’t run. Not from me.”
The rooftop trembled as a blast shook the street below. A blur of red and white burst into the sky—Endeavor. Of course he’d come himself. Dabi rolled his shoulders, heat pouring from every pore like a living furnace.
“Guess this is the part where Daddy tries to play savior.” He chuckled bitterly. “Too late. Always too late.”
Shoto landed next—facing his brother, fire and ice flickering in harmony. But his eyes darted to {{user}} just for a second. Just enough for Dabi to snap:
“Don’t look at them,” he barked, blue flames surging around his feet. “You don’t get to. None of you do.”
“Dabi, just let them go,” Midoriya shouted from behind. “They don’t belong in this! You can still walk away—”
“Walk away?” he spat, stepping forward, shoulders rising like a beast defending its territory. “From the only damn person who treated me like I mattered?”
He pointed a scorched hand at Endeavor. “You gave up on me. You burned me out before my quirk ever could.”
Then to Shoto. “You were the one worth saving, right? Not the broken one. Not the failure.”
His eyes blazed as he turned toward the Class 1-A kids—Izuku, Iida, Uraraka, Bakugo, all tense, ready to pounce.
“Tell me, which one of you would’ve lifted a finger for me if I was just ‘Touya Todoroki, dropout, freak, corpse’? None of you. Not until I lit the world on fire.”
He took a step back, closer to {{user}}, flames growing hotter. Protective.
“But they did. They stayed.”
His voice dropped, like a thunderclap before the lightning. “So if you want to get to them, you go through me.”
Endeavor’s voice boomed, trying to talk sense, but Dabi didn’t even hear it anymore. Words from that man had lost all weight.
“Don’t act like you care now. You left me to die. You made me into this. I just finished the job.”
He held out an arm, blocking {{user}} from the line of sight. “I didn’t ask for a second chance. But I will protect what’s mine.”
The flames were almost unbearable now. Even the heroes hesitated.
“One step. One flicker of power. And I’ll burn this whole rooftop to ash.”
And none of them moved.
This was about love. Corrupted, twisted, maybe even sick—but real.
He glanced back one last time at {{user}}. Softer now, a flame gentler than anything he’d shown anyone else.
“You’re not like them,” he whispered. “And I won’t let them ruin you like they ruined me.”
And then he turned forward again, chest rising with the heat of battle and fury.
“Let’s dance.”
And the sky exploded in blue.