MHA 2025!

The scent of frying eggs and something spicy woke me, not the usual sterile quiet of my own room. It was Sunday, and for the first time in as long as I could remember, I'd woken up early and without the weight of expectation pressing on my chest. I showered, dressed, and followed the delicious aroma to the small kitchen. There, leaning against the counter, spatula in hand, was Dabi.

"Are you serious?" I teased, a genuine smile tugging at my lips. "I never knew you could cook."

He laughed, a low, rumbling sound that felt surprisingly warm. "Learned it a while back. Don't go thinking I'm some domestic god now." He plated a traditional breakfast, the kind mom used to make, and slid it in front of me. He even had my favorite tea brewing. "So," he said, leaning against the counter again, "what are your plans for today?"

I swallowed a mouthful of the surprisingly delicious food. "I'm going to visit Mom at the hospital. Then maybe swing by home to see Fuyumi and Natsuo."

He nodded, a low hum escaping his throat. "Right. Hawks is off today, we'll probably just be…around," he finished with a shrug.

"Okay," I said, focusing on my breakfast. This was…nice. A strangely normal and simple morning. I finished, thanking him for everything.

"You're welcome back, anytime." He shrugged, shoving his hands in his pockets. "It was nice…hanging out."

I smiled, a real one, tinged with a mix of surprise and warmth. "Yeah, it was. Same here."

Later, at the hospital, Mom was reading the book Fuyumi had given her. She looked…calmer, more at peace. It filled me with a quiet relief. We talked for a long time, nothing important, just the simple rhythm of a mother and son. I hugged her tightly before leaving, the ache of missing her a familiar weight.

The house was quiet, too quiet, when I arrived. Fuyumi and Natsuo weren't around. I sighed and retreated to my room, pulling out a book, but the words blurred on the page. I hadn't been there long when the door burst open, and my father stood there, his face contorted with anger.

"Where were you this weekend?" he roared, his voice echoing in the small space.

I sighed, the easy comfort of the morning fading fast. I couldn't tell him about Dabi, about the peace I'd found, not here. "I was out... with a friend." A male friend, I added silently.

His face went white then red, ashen, and then a furious crimson. "You…you disgust me," he spat. "A boy? You're a disgrace! You will stop seeing him. Immediately."

"No," I said, my voice surprisingly firm. "I won't."

His face twisted, and I saw the telltale signs of drink on his face. I laughed, a short, mocking sound that only seemed to fuel his rage. Before I could react, his hand connected with my face, the force of the blow sending me reeling. My head cracked against the wall and my vision swam. I tasted blood.

I didn't wait for another blow. I scrambled to my feet, my body a mess of pain and confusion, and ran. I ran as far and as fast as I could. I knew where I had to be. I pounded on the door, desperate.

It was Dabi who opened it, his eyes widening at the sight of me. Blood welled from my split lip, my cheek was already swelling and a purple bruise was forming. He pulled me inside, his focus razor-sharp. "What happened? Hawks!" he yelled.

Hawks materialized from another room, his face pale. Dabi left, muttering something about "taking care of something" and Hawks, after a beat, nodded, understanding dawning in his eyes. Hawks bandaged my wounds, brewed tea that soothed my raw throat and pulled me into a quiet bedroom for rest.

I had to tell someone. I pulled out my phone and called Bakugo. I knew Midoriya would just panic and Bakugo would be more…logical. I told him everything between breaths trying not to cry; about my dad and about the beating. A silence stretched over the line before the dam broke with Bakugo's rage, a torrent of insults about my father, and then he calmed down and talked to me logically and reassured me. His voice was rough but it was gentle. When he hung up, I closed my eyes, the tea warming my insides. I fell asleep then, exhausted.

Hours later, around 3 am, Dabi returned. I pretended to be asleep, my ears straining to hear what was said.

"What did you do?" Hawks asked, his voice low.

"Simple revenge. An eye for an eye," Dabi's voice was cold.

A beat of silence. "Okay," Hawks finally said, resigned.

"How is he?"

"He's going to be okay, physically. He's…mentally scarred. I can tell."

Dabi hummed. "He's a fighter."

A small smile played on my lips.

"Why did Enji do that?" Hawks' voice was laced with anger, each word sharp.

"He was drunk. I told you he was a drunk. He found out Shouto is into guys and went off," Dabi said in a low growl. "Started shouting nonsense."

"Like what?"

"Like 'He will bring shame' and 'He is a disgrace'," Dabi growled. "I hushed him down so he wouldn't wake the whole damn neighborhood up. Then I got to work."

Hawks sighed. "Right. Sorry. Call it a night, yeah?"

I lay there in the dark, tracing the new scars on my face with my fingertips. I knew then. I wasn't going back. I was done with that life, that father, that house. This was it. I was staying with Touya. With Dabi. My brother. And as strange as it sounded, that thought filled me with a strange sense of peace.