Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Dabi doesn't die the way he should. 

As a child, he hadn't dreamt of dying at all. Filled with naive adoration of his dad, he fantasised of a beautiful distant future where he'd surpass All Might just like his father wanted. He'd set that stupid blondie on fire with his awesome quirk and leave him in the dust! Then dad would pat him on the head and say, "Good job, Touya!" and then his mum would also do that and make him soba and then after that he wasn't really sure what would happen. He didn't know anything outside of his parents or heroes.

Well, apparently he was going to die. 

Whatever, that dumb doctor didn't know what he was talking about. Dying was what the weird girly flowers did in the garden when autumn came around and all he knew was that it made his mum cut them away. He wasn't going to die or wilt away like those stupid brown things. He was going to be a hero forever. 

Then Shouto was born and Dad stopped looking at him.

' Dad doesn't want me. He doesn't train me anymore. Why? Why was I born? If only mum gave me a strong body like Shouto, then he'd look at me. I hate this stupid body. I hate it. I hate everyone. Why does no one get it?'

Dying was his pathetic flimsy body as he burned alive on Sekoto Peak, a puppet to a power greater than him. Touya died completely alone. 

Waking from his coma three years later, dying is the pitiful shrine in his honour. A thick layer of dust had settled over his room like a ghost. The sounds of wood slamming against skin and adolescent wails of pain in the dojo reassured him of what he already knew. That his death hadn't changed one damn thing. So he prays at his shrine and buries Touya deep inside his heart, setting his dreams of heroism alight.

Dabi would make sure his father would never tear his eyes away from him again. 

Dying was all Dabi could think about in those filthy back alleys, high off of Giran's cheap painkillers. Each time he burned someone alive for a job, he took a sick little pleasure that every single abominable crime was a mark that Endeavor would never be able to scrub away from his legacy. As he rubbed shoulders with rapists and murderers, fantasies of exposing his father's sordid past to the world and clawing his career apart with his disgusting scarred hands nurtured the raging fire inside him. Dragging Endeavor into the deepest depths of hell where no masterpiece could ever rip his dad from reach again was all he lived for, all he killed for and when that was done? They'd die hand in hand, fist to fist, heart to heart. 

A final beautiful blaze of glory where the names Touya and Endeavor would be forever tied together as it was always meant to be. 

The perfect death.

But instead he passes away to the rhythmic beep-beep-beep of his heart monitor and flat lines to the thoughts of 'what could have been '. 

…

But staying dead had always been a bit too hard for Touya, hadn't it? 

When his body boiled under the whims of his hate , he marched ahead while his flesh melted apart- rot permeating the air. When he'd turned into a walking pyre, his mother's ice had screeched awake from inside him hysterically. When he'd been burnt to a crisp in the aftermath, he stayed alive just long enough for his father– no, his family to give him a second chance.

So he never makes it to hell. 

Instead, he hears the sound of distant birds and Touya blinks back to earth, stunned. 

'Who the fuck made it so bright in here?' Is his first waking thought as the sun almost blinds him. His second waking thought as he realises he can actually feel things is 'Oh shit, I actually died'. The hot sand that hugs his backside is scorching to his icy skin, the salt of the ocean clings to his tongue when he takes a breath (and wasn't that a weird feeling after eight years of being stuffed in a medical pod?). All Touya could remember before this was… well… dying. Not that it'd been very memorable. 

Endeavor had dropped by that day. His father had stayed true to his promise of visiting everyday, making a foreign ache pulse in his chest (Probably the medical grade drugs they were pumping into him every second). 

He'd been telling him about how Shouto was faring as a top pro hero, how Yumi had even started seeing someone from work (his father's bizarrely awkward face at this would've made him bust a staple laughing). His mother had taken over after that, telling him fondly about how Natsu's son had finally taken his first steps when she was babysitting him and she'd burst into tears at the sight. 

His parents happily told him about everything going on in the outside world, new heroes that had debuted, the latest movies and how there had even been talks of the surviving League members being able to file for parole ("Though I doubt they'll ever be granted. Foreign activists have picked up that lizard's book in a frenzy; it exploded overseas after some American nutjob published a translation. Takami's been busy doing damage control." His father had remarked). 

A few hours after their visit, he closed his eyes for the very last time. Anticlimactic for a villain like him, he knows. 

"What a disappointing way to go out." He muttered as he stared up at the Okinawan-like blue sky. "Natsu never got around to bringing his kid over in the end, huh?"

Hell was… weirdly nice. Maybe it was childish of him but he'd always imagine brimstone and fire, screams of villains (and a few heroes) around him and actually anything that wasn't a vacation spot. He'd even entertained the thoughts of the victims he'd killed mercilessly in life torturing him or at least dropping him their two cents on his way down. Like "Hey, why'd you burn me alive asshole?"... something along those lines. 

Not that he could remember their faces, his permanent fucking brain damage had taken care of that. 

Then something dawned on him. Well. It was more like something grumbled from inside him. 

'Wait. If this is hell… why the fuck am I starving? ' 

....

His stomach grumbled at him again. 

Was it too late to go back to being a vegetable? 

Chapter Text

Touya waits for a solid two minutes before his patience for lying face up on a scorching ass beach runs out. He patted himself mentally on the back.

‘At least I tried waiting.'

Experimentally, he tenses himself up and Wow, it felt fucking weird . After eight years of having a tempura fried nervous system, adjusting to one that could actually… touch things or even move at all was bizarre. His brain was playing a desperate game of catch-up to all the new sensations pinging all over his body. 

Closing his eyes, he clenches his hand in… and out before breathing out shakily. Somehow doing that one small thing left him feeling like he's just run a marathon. He didn't remember having a body being this exhausting…well. 

Flashes of empty painkiller bottles and off-brand antiseptics in his old molded apartment quickly reminded him that it was actually that exhausting to live. For him, at least. God, why couldn't life just be easy for him. Was that so much to ask for? 

"Now we just… get up. Can't be that hard, right?" He wasn't sure if the hysteria in his voice was from the fresh set of vocal cords or whether the situation was actually getting to him but either way he couldn't exactly stay here forever. The sand was hot and the seaside breeze was hitting him like a million blunt needles.

'Okay, 1…2…3..!-' 

With adrenaline coursing through his veins, he throws himself up into a sitting position and holy shit that hurts- His hands are bare. 

He blinks. 

Once, Twice. 

His fingers are twitching as he gently pulls his pant legs up to reveal… unblemished smooth skin. 

"What the fuck, What the fuck-" The words come out slurred and messy.  "Where are the-" 

He shoves his hands up to his face (ok, ow .) to feel for his jaw and.. they’re not there. 

Again. Again. He scrapes manically at pale, unnatural soft skin and his face cracks red under blunt nails searching for anything, something?!- 

No staples, no scars, no skin grafts- nothing . He’s vaguely aware that his shoulders are starting to smoke but he pushes forward, stumbling and crawling towards the water. With aching arms, he pulls himself up and his legs almost buckle under the sudden weight. His bare feet are on fire as he runs towards the ocean but if he could just see- 

The water is startlingly clear.

A reflection stares back at him open eyed and teary. But worst of all, young.

Touya falls to his knees in disbelief, the mirage rippling apart. 

"That… That can't be…" But he recognises his voice now. It wasn't unfamiliar because he hadn't heard it in a while, it's because it was his thirteen year old voice . All whiny and high pitched. 

As the water stills again, he examines himself closer.

His hair is still fully white, which… makes sense. Even with his face chalked full of angry red finger marks and small bloody scratches, there was no mistaking their childish nature. Cheeks full of baby fat and almost bug-like eyes. He raises his horrifically small hand to pinch at them. They’re real.

Breaking out of the shocked trance, he feels his body temperature slowly rising- boiling the water around him. Scrambling out before he can create a mini salt deposit, he kicks his brain into gear. 

'Medical quirk? That rewind girl? No, wouldn't I wake up in the hospital?' He absentmindedly tugs at his hair. 'A dream? No, this feels too real.' 

The sharp pain from his scalp snaps him out of his spiraling thoughts, his head aching from the tension. Breathing in deep, he pushed himself back up again. He had to move. He had to figure out what the hell was going on.

"I have to go home…" He mumbled. God, It felt like waking up from that coma all over again. 

Touya turned to properly look at his surroundings, having been so absorbed in what the fuck was happening to him that he’d forgotten the second problem. He had no clue where he was. Looking side to side, there just seemed to be an endless field of sand in both directions. Fuck.

'Not the most promising.' 

Turning to look behind, he has to tilt his head up to take in the absolutely towering mountains looking down at him. More importantly, they didn't look like anything in Japan. Double fuck. 

The mountains are awe inspiringly tall. Harsh rock cutting outwards forming jagged edges, like lazy paint strokes of earth and bone. Lush greenery curls around the sandstone pillars, waterfalls gently cascading down. A sea of misty clouds drifted, making it look like the mountains were floating. Though Touya had never been a nature fanatic, it would be remiss to not call it what it was. Impressive. 

He mulls over his options. 

‘If I’m stranded here alone, I’m fucked. I need to find a city or a town or just anyone that can talk to me and pray to god they speak Japanese.’

He was so screwed if he was in another country. His English was passable at best (courtesy of Endeavor's insistence on an expensive private school) but he hadn’t exactly kept up with it during his villain days. 

‘My quirk control was terrible at this age and I don’t really want to set this random island on fire so I guess searching the mountains is out of the question.’ 

Not like he wanted to go near them anyway. Mountains and forests didn't really hold up against his history. 

With a sigh, he stretched his legs. Fuck, why was he such a short kid. His body wasn't useful for anything . Hopefully he wouldn't have to walk around the entire island outskirts to find civilization. 

"Well, shit." He squinted down at the massive seaside town. "I have no fucking idea where this is."

He'd walked along the coast for what felt like hours and had started booking it when he saw a few fishing boats sailing in the distance. Scaling up a small wooden lookout post, he now had a perfect view to scout the surroundings. Thankfully, it seemed like there were alot of people which was good but… it didn't look very modern. 

No telephone poles, not a cell tower in sight… nothing but blocky stone houses covered in fucking moss and vines… Shit. It's not like he was looking for a Tokyo but this was a bit ridiculous to ask of him, wasn't it? 

He swatted the fire sparking on his disgruntled face away and focused. Annoying setback but it's not like this place could be completely cut off from the world. It was the modern fucking century, they had to have some communication line. 

The village houses were built on steep, rolling hills with snaking dirt roads coiling in and out. They surrounded a massive town square directly by the docks, little market stalls lining the perimeter. Seemed like a busy place to be, with locals bustling about and ships offloading cargo. 

If there was any place with information, that'd be it. 

He climbed down the wooden outpost and stretched out his arms- groaning at the exhaustion setting in. God, why did kids have no stamina. 

While his newly unmarred body would draw fewer eyes to his outlandish appearance, he was still a kid physically. When he adapted to life on the streets as a teenager, his gnarly scars helped him slot right into the criminal underground. People didn't exactly question why a fucked up looking guy wanted to do a dirty job even if they were shorter than the average adult (Hooray for stunted growth). Helped him set up a reputation quicker. 

He had no cards to play right now. No information, no power (He wasn't looking to turn into Dabi again and his quirk would probably do him more harm.) and no money. Thankfully he didn't need to stay inconspicuous like last time. Honestly, if Endeavor found out he was here it'd be a damn lifesaver.

He had three goals as of now. Figure out where the hell he was, what happened to him and how to get back. 

"Guess it's time to get some answers." 

Touya steeled himself and headed for the docks. Hopefully this time around he wouldn't end up setting an orphanage on fire.

Chapter Text

By the time Touya made it to the town square, the sun had already started to set on the horizon– casting a warm orange hue across the entire village. He quietly slipped into an alley where the shadows hid him, a habit. It was a charming town, all things considered. 

Humble market stalls lined against wiry stone paths while the fishing boats he'd seen earlier had returned to shore, sailors crowding the docks. There were strings of lights tied between poles and crowds of people chatting amongst each other, drinks in hand. The foot traffic was a bit annoying to navigate (The heat from crowds always made him overheat). 

He couldn't place the ethnicity of the people though and he'd tried. They had warm tanned skin, sun-kissed even but the faces were a weird sandbag mix of Europe and Asia. Maybe it was one of those Mediterranean countries? He cursed all the times he'd zoned out in geography. 

Ultimately, it hadn't even mattered because they all spoke Japanese for some reason. How? Why? No clue. He'd solidly given up on making sense of his situation. 

They wore modern clothes though which was a good sign..probably. Thanking god that he wouldn't have to get past a language barrier and his clothes didn't make him look like a crazy foreigner, his mission had gotten a bit easier. Now he just needed to find-

His stomach growled embarrassingly loud. 

Right. He'd… forgotten about that. 

Food. He needed to find food. Touya grimaced, 'How the fuck am I gonna do that? It's not like I have spare change on me.' And he'd checked. 

Back when he’d been homeless on the streets, he’d skated by with cheap konbini onigiri and just straight up ignoring it when inconvenient. Plus with his organs being damaged, his stomach could barely handle a full meal anyway. While his jaw had been so charitably replaced by the doctor, he immediately burned all his tastebuds off when practising his fire anyway so it's not like he could eat for pleasure.

Now that he was back in his kid body though, his hunger was back with a vengeance and he definitely couldn't ignore it this time. He resisted the childish urge to stomp his foot against the ground in frustration, having a normal body again was so exhausting. The eight years stuck in a glorified jar being pumped with enough painkillers (drugs that would've made street Dabi weep in relief, a luxury he couldn't afford as he burnt off more and more and- ) to put down an elephant had, in fact, spoiled him. 

'I don't have a lot of options… dumpster diving or stealing are really the only ones I have. Dumpster diving around this place seems a bit shitty though, they're a fishing town for god's sake.' He grimaced at the mental thought. 'Yeah I'd better not lose this body instantly from hospital grade food poisoning. Kid me is pretty damn small so I should be able to slip into a crowd pretty easily.'  

Touya ducked out of the alley and stretched his arms. 'Hopefully, I'll overhear some useful information too. Like where the hell I am.'  

Who knew being such a short stubby kid would be so useful? Not him, that's for sure. He grinned wryly as he darted between stalls, his actions lost in the midst of shopkeepers and customers shouting out orders and reveling in drunken festivities. 

He'd lucked out honestly, apparently today was a festival of sorts. Something something rain dragon god, he didn't really give a shit. He stuck the kebab into his starving mouth and instantly ripped it out, yelping like a kicked dog. 

'Oh my fucking god, I forgot how much hot food sucked for this body.' Touya stuck his tongue out, hoping the cold air might soothe the scalding burn. 'Pull it together, you've literally been on fire twice.' 

In his defense, it was never much of an issue as most of his family shared his constitution ( bless his mother's cold soba ) and it'd made eating on the street much easier. He wasn't exactly going out of his way to buy piping hot street snacks like the ones he was stealing right now. No microwave to heat up shitty konbini slop? No problem, he'd stick a frozen pack of gyoza in his mouth raw if he could. 

Slowing to a halt as he neared the edge of the thinning aisle of people, he looked down at the bag he'd definitely paid for and smirked at the staggering amount he'd managed to swipe without a single person noticing. 

'Still got it. This looks like enough for now, but I need to find somewhere to eat…' Touya took a cursory look around before spotting an empty seat facing the docks. 'I guess the bits of cold sea blowing up at people scared them away.' 

Hopping onto the slightly damp bench by the freezing (pleasantly lukewarm for him, three cheers for the Himura lineage everyone.) seaside, he pulled a few bits of his haul out. As he shuffled through the bag, he took in what he'd actually taken. He hadn't really been stingy with what he stole, simply taking the opportunity when he spotted one. 

The only Japanese food he'd managed to nick in the end was a single lonely taiyaki, the others were… probably European? He wasn't confident with that assessment. Endeavour had raised an incredibly traditional household and he hadn't exactly looked at foreign fine dining as a villain. 

Hesitantly he lifted the taiyaki to his mouth, the paper bag crinkling as he held it in his fingers. He wasn't sure why his heart was racing so much but nevertheless, he closed his eyes and took a bite. 

His eyes snapped open as he chewed through the warm waffle batter, the red bean flavour positively bursting in his mouth. Belatedly, he remembered he hasn't actually tasted anything in years. 

Taking another bite, he jerks a little as he sees his own tears drop onto the paper bag. The sheer sweetness had overwhelmed him. 

'Fuck, am I really crying over a cheap taiyaki right now? Today's been so embarrassing…' Touya sniffled as he took the final bite, relishing in the slight savoury aftertaste. 'Why do I always cry when things go my way?' 

He'd inhaled the snack in a matter of seconds… 

With shining eyes he dug through the bag beside him, the smell calling to his salivating mouth. Excitement at the idea of tasting things again overtook any absent thoughts of information gathering and the like. 

He pulled out the kebab from earlier and grinned. 

Touya strolled the foreign streets with a strange contentment flowing through his skin. As he stared into the closed empty shops ( It must be midnight, he thought to himself) and registered the odd mix of English letters and Japanese characters, he felt like he was floating on a high. 

Had he figured out where he was? No…

But his belly was full. 

It was weird to realise how much he'd truly missed being able to taste and smell. Scent was less noticeable (It was hard to miss being able to smell things when the last thing he ever smelt was charred skin and smoke and- ) but fuck. 

The sweetness of anko paste and the slightest hint of savory beans. 

The smoky aftertaste of grilled pork with a sharp bite of black pepper. 

The delightfully fluffy, lightly salted bread with a warm creamy custard inside. 

An unconscious smile spread on his face as he traced his lips with cold fingers, chasing the aftertaste. 

Somehow, despite winding up in a random place with nothing but the clothes on his back and his quirk– he'd felt… the happiest in a really long time

Staring up into the night sky, hundreds of twinkling stars spread across the inky black expanse– he once again wondered. 

'Why am I here?' 

He was coming down from his euphoria and sleep tugged at his tired body, the weight of his eyelids feeling impossible to keep up. 

Tomorrow, he'd figure everything out.

But for now, he'll sleep. 

He'll sleep and pray that he won't wake to the beeping of his heart monitor, the sorrowful look of his father and the ache in his frozen heart as he cries to the realisation that this was nothing but a dream.