It 's just Eraserhead 's luck that the moment he 's finally done with his class of problem children he runs into his number one problem child ' who only seems to have made himself impossibly even more problematic since the last time Eraserhead had seen him.

He has a knit hat slung over his shock of white hair and a pair of sunglasses obscuring those startling eyes of his, and all bundled up in a parka like everyone else on the street, he keeps a surprisingly low profile for someone so infamous. It 's not the understated outfit that draws Eraserhead 's exasperation though; it 's the little kid propped in his arms devouring her way through a cakepop. If Eraserhead hadn 't already met him plenty of times before and known the exact tenor of his voice, he might have even walked right past them. As it is, he sees the man relishing an identical pink sprinkled cakepop as the girl he 's carrying and hears the cheery tone in his voice that means he 's saying something blasphemous, and knows immediately who it is.

' 'there 's no such thing as too much sugar, ' he 's in the middle of saying, as Aizawa reluctantly draws closer. 'So have as much as you want, okay? It 's good, right? '

'Mn, ' says the girl, sparkles in her eyes as she munches through all the frosting.

Who the hell put Dabi in charge of a small child,

Aizawa sighs internally. Regaling an impressionable young soul with completely incorrect dietary facts is the

least

of his worries when it comes to the ex-villain being allowed anywhere near a little kid.

He opens his mouth to greet the other man, then promptly realizes he 's not entirely sure what to call him. 'Dabi ' was given to him by the police, and is also likely to cause panic on this crowded street if he just shouts it out. Six Eyes is technically his hero name, and a chosen hero name is a perfectly respectable way to refer to any hero, but he 's not even certain how much the man even associates with that name. In the end, even if it seems strangely informal, he goes with what he knows.

'Satoru ' kun, ' he greets, awkwardly. It makes him feel like he 's addressing one of his students, and even if Dabi isn 't actually all that much older than them, it still feels strange,

Dabi blinks at him over his shades. Then he grins. 'Oh, well if it isn 't

senpai!

What are you doing in Tokyo? '

'I suppose I could ask you the same question, ' Aizawa counters, stuffing his hands in his pockets. He ignores the

senpai

on general principle. That way leads to madness and gray hairs. 'I thought you 'd still be in Otheon. '

Dabi shrugs. 'Nah. If they need me, they know how to find me, ' he replies, blithely.

Aizawa 's gaze trails down to the girl, who stares at him curiously from her spot bundled up in Dabi 's arms, mouth streaked with pink from the frosting of her treat. She has long pale hair not quite as strikingly white as Dabi 's, big carmine eyes, a sweet heart-shaped face and a cute button nose, and a little horn peeking out at her temple. If Aizawa didn 't know any better ' and now that he 's thinking on it, he really actually

doesn 't '

he 'd say they were related. Too far apart to be siblings though, he thinks, with pooling dread.

'Satoru-kun ' ' He starts slowly, with mounting apprehension. 'Who 's this? '

Dabi takes a bite out of his own cakepop. 'Hmm~? You can 't tell just by looking at her? '

Aizawa stares at them both with a pained expression. There 's a very obvious assumption to make here, even if he truly doesn 't want to make it. She looks no older than five, and that, coupled with 'Pro Hero Six Eyes ' official listed age means it 's more than possible. And he supposes he can see the resemblance if he 's actively trying to look. She 's a beautiful child, probably not all that dissimilar to Dabi himself at that age, he imagines.

Then he looks at her '

really

looks at her.

Past her adorable outfit and the cute hairclips in her wavy hair, their vaguely similar features, and the way she seems so settled and at ease in Dabi 's arms. Little girl with silver hair, red eyes, and a horn.

Was that not the exact description of the girl both Togata and Midoriya were so distraught about not saving from the clutches of Shie Hassaikai?

Aizawa sighs aloud. 'Dabi, ' he says plainly, keeping his voice low from the milling crowds on this popular Tokyo street. The severity in his tone seems to sober the other man up. 'You asked me why I was in Tokyo ' there 's an ongoing investigation I was asked to take part in. I think you should hear about it. '

//

So the heroes beat him to the punch, huh? That 's annoying, but if he 's being honest, probably all the better for him.

As Tsukauchi reminded him earlier, he 's only

just

gotten his criminal record dismissed in light of his international hero status. It 's probably for the best that he doesn 't immediately decide to test his new diplomatic immunity by committing mass murder against an entire yakuza organization. And from what Eraserhead has mentioned of the hero task force, they should have the situation well in hand. Even dear old dad is involved. He 's a little surprised to hear Hawks is sitting this one out, but Eraserhead offhandedly mentions he 's tied up in a different ' but still somewhat related ' case at the moment but will be available as backup if needed.

Eraserhead hounds them into a nearby cat cafe for this conversation, and Eri is adequately distracted by all the felines preternaturally gravitating towards Eraserhead 's presence. She 's off in the nearby corner with a very fat and lazy specimen, delighting in running her hands through its soft fur.

Gojo turns his gaze away from the enamored little girl, and back to the underground hero across from him.

'I suppose you know all about Eri 's situation then, if you 're in the task force, ' Gojo surmises, stirring his latte.

Eraserhead frowns. 'Only what Midoriya and Togata could tell me of her from their brief encounter. '

Gojo frowns. 'What did they say? '

'That she 's the daughter of Chisaki, the leader of the Shie Hassaikai, and that she looked scared and afraid when she 'd ran to them for help. That there were bandages on her arms and legs, and before the situation could escalate between the two and Chisaki, she ran back to him. '

He sighs deeply. 'And when was this? '

'A week ago now, or thereabouts. '

He cards his hand through his hair. That lines up with what Eri told him last night. It had been a tough story to sit through, but a necessary one for him to hear, if he plans on keeping her safe from those who seek to harm her.

'She 's not his daughter. He probably just uses that as a convenient excuse whenever anyone sees the two of them together. ' Gojo should know, he 's been doing the same these last few days. 'Her past with her real parents is ' traumatic. She doesn 't know how she ended up with Chisaki, but it 's unlikely he 's related to her at all. '

He takes a shuddering breath. 'He was using her for his own gains. It was some awful shit. His quirk can deconstruct and reconstruct things, and whatever he was after, it required him to 'deconstruct ' Eri over and over again. '

Eraserhead jolts in his seat, looking horrified.

'Deconstruct? '

He repeats, disturbed.

Gojo nods. 'He tore her to pieces, and then would put her back together. '

The underground hero looks like he wants to be sick. Gojo doesn 't blame him. He 's seen some truly awful things in both his lifetimes, but that level of systematic cruelty is still enough to turn his stomach.

'Eri doesn 't know what he was after, only that he needed her for it, ' Gojo soldiers on, for both their sakes. 'I imagine it has something to do with her own quirk, which works on the cellular level of living creatures and seems to reverse the aging process. I haven 't seen her use it, so I don 't know how exactly it works. '

Eraserhead looks down into his own untouched cup of black coffee. Gojo doubts he 'll be able to touch it after this. Gojo himself has lost his appetite, but he determinably downs the rest of his sugary latte anyway. He 'll need all the energy he can get; ever since he learned the truth of her quirk he 's had his Six Eyes on high alert scanning everyone in their vicinity, and his Infinity active for both himself and Eri whenever he 's holding her. Even now, he 's careful to keep her within grabbing distance just in case.

'That 's worse than anyone could have imagined, but also makes a great deal of sense. ' Eraserhead slumps in his chair, somehow managing to look even more exhausted than usual. 'There 's been a recent explosion in Trigger, as I 'm sure you know, but also weapons and ammunition. In particular, there 's been some unknown weapon being traded around for exorbitantly high prices, but until yesterday, no one knew what it was. '

Gojo nods slowly. He 'd heard as much from Toman, the last time he 'd checked in with them.

'It's a bullet that temporarily negates quirks, ' Eraserhead reveals, gravely. 'We don 't quite know how it works, but forensics found evidence of biological tissue in the bullets. '

'You think that 's what he was using Eri for, ' Gojo realizes.

'In light of what you 've told me, that seems like the obvious assumption to make, yes, ' the underground hero agrees.

'What 's going to be done about the bullets? ' Gojo asks quickly. The last thing Eri needs is for those things to take off and become coveted ammunition by the entire criminal underworld ' she 'd never be safe then.

'That 's the case Hawks is working on, ' Eraserhead divulges. 'They 're tracing the supply routes and confiscating all the bullets they find. '

His shoulders relax at that, but only slightly. Hawks does good work, and he trusts the hero to handle the case to the best of his abilities. But that 's a behemoth of a job, crawling through the intricate web of clandestine meetings and under the table dealings that make up the majority of the illegal arms trade. He makes a mental note to set the hero up with his own contacts to speed up the process. With Eri 's safety at stake, he 's not taking any chances.

'And what about the Shie Hassaikai? '

'There 's a raid in the works. I can 't say much more about it, but it 's a strong task force. Our objective is to apprehend Chisaki and dismantle the Shie Hassaikai permanently. '

Privately, Gojo doubts that will happen unless the heroes manage to arrest

and

charge every single member of the gang, and with how squirrely the yakuza are with their businesses and finances, there 's really no shot at that. The best he can hope for is Chisaki and everyone else involved in Eri 's torture ending up in jail for life, unless he wants to get involved personally.

His gaze slides back towards Eri. She 's coaxed the monstrous feline onto its back and is happily stroking the soft fur on its belly, and subsequently getting cat hair all over her cute dress. She looks blissfully content ' a far cry from the hopeless and despondent kid he 'd met a few days ago, dirty and bleeding and dressed in rags. After the miserable life she 's had, he can 't help but want to ensure her ongoing happiness moving forward. She deserves to enjoy an uncomplicated childhood filled with her favorite sweets and plenty of cats to pet.

It 's true he was tired of all the infamy and scrutiny that being a top villain gave him, of having to hide under elaborate disguises and constantly live a double life, but he thinks he 'd risk his newfound freedom, for her.

He 'd never set out to change the world in this life. He doesn 't care about any of that ' changing society 's views on what it means to be a hero, saving all the poor and destitute of the world, stopping organized crime ' none of that matters to him. His motives for his crimes as Dabi were never altruistic in nature; he wanted so much money that he 'd never have to worry about being inhibited by the cost of things ever again, and Gojo Satoru is good at everything, but what he 's best at, what he was

born

to do, is kill. It only made sense to put the two together. He doesn 't care whether people label him a villain, or a vigilante.

And he definitely doesn 't care about being a hero.

The only reason he 's a hero at all is because it was an easy and convenient way to get out of the legal quagmire he 'd found himself in as Dabi. He wouldn 't have bothered, even with all the hassle of being a wanted supervillain, but there were people in his life that wanted and

needed

him around, and for them he was willing to sort himself out. His band, his little padawans, Hawks, even the family he 's only recently started to reconnect to ' their lives would be so much more complicated with a wanted criminal like

Dabi

in them, and becoming Pro Hero Six Eyes wasn 't too terrible a tradeoff for the convenience of shedding his criminal history.

But he thinks they 'd all understand, if he threw it all away for her.

He won 't, though. He

can 't.

He 's accepted the responsibility of her safety, of her continued wellbeing and happiness, and landing himself in yet another legal debacle won 't achieve any of that.

'I should be there, ' he mutters, crossly. 'I want Chisaki

dead,

but if I have to settle for putting him in chains behind bars, I guess that 'll do too. '

Eraserhead looks conflicted. In the end, he just shakes his head. 'I can 't say your presence wouldn 't be valuable, but I think you 're needed here

more,

wouldn 't you say? '

He dips his head in the direction of Eri, still oblivious to their conversation.

Gojo grumbles uncharitably. Eraserhead is right. Even he can 't be in two places at once, and protecting Eri is more important.

'Yeah, you 're right, ' Gojo concedes, reluctant. 'But if anything changes, I want to know. And if anything goes wrong, I want to be there. '

Midoriya will be involved, after all. And if the old man 's sticking his nose in the situation, there 's a good chance Shouto will be dragged along. He might have a responsibility to Eri 's safety, but he has a vested interest in their well-being too.

'Of course, ' Eraserhead agrees easily. 'Is it alright if I tell the task force she 's safe? They don 't have to know the specifics, but she 'd been factored into the raid plans and they 'll need to be adjusted. 'And Midoriya will be very relieved to hear she 's okay; he 's been distraught about her situation ever since their encounter. '

'Yeah that 's fine, ' Gojo capitulates, pouting at the man. He would have agreed either way, Bringing Izuku into it is just dirty pool.

'Thank you, ' Eraserhead says. 'I know you want to see justice done personally, and I understand the sentiment. But ' by rescuing Eri and keeping her safe, you 've already accomplished far more than the task force ever could. ' He bows his head. 'I don 't think there are words for how grateful I am, to see her healthy and well-cared for. Thank you for saving her where the heroes could not. '

Gojo only has a vague understanding of the timeline of events; Izuku had apparently desperately wanted to save Eri when they 'd met, about a week ago, but hadn 't been able to do so without jeopardizing the ongoing investigation against Shie Hassaikai. Either way, Gojo can 't really claim much credit either.

'She did most of it herself, to be honest. ' He looks over towards her, eyes soft. 'I was just in the right place at the right time to catch her fall. '

//

Note to self ' fix house ASAP because the Four Seasons

does not

like pets.

Neither does Gojo, for the record. He 's not particularly fond of kids or animals, and yet he 's found himself in possession of both anyway.

Eraserhead had left the cafe after their conversation, but Gojo had lingered and ordered another latte for Eri 's sake. She 'd become utterly enamored with the beast she 'd tamed, and Gojo was loathe to part her from it. She was finally smiling and giggling like a regular kid ' how was he supposed to steel his heart against a sight like that? And then after loitering around for an hour under the increasingly suspicious side-eyes of the staff, he 'd finally worked up the courage to gently prod her away from the thing, only to be met with the most heartbreaking sight in the world. Eri hadn 't cried when he 'd tugged her away, just stared up with a despondent, hopeless look. Then she 'd turned to the cat with resignation and longing heavy in her eyes and said, in the saddest, most pitiful voice,

'bye bye meow-san '.

And then the cat meowed back, and Gojo was a fucking goner. He 's not a complete bastard, okay, and he 'd already joked about making an impressively short-sighted pet purchase to complete his millennial existential crisis, so it seems rather appropriate karmic justice that he ends up with the thing.

Eri is over the moon. She cuddles the thing the entire cab ride back and doesn 't put down the carrier the cafe had given them the entire time Gojo hastily procures immediate necessities for a cat. Fuck. What the hell is he supposed to do with a cat?

On that note, what the fuck is he supposed to do with a

kid?

Eri told him her parents were ' not in the picture. After plenty of tears and Gojo sitting there feeling like a heartless schmuck for making her dredge up all these traumatic memories, she 'd revealed that she 'd accidentally killed her father with her quirk, and her mother had left her because of it. She 's been with the Shie Hassaikai ever since then. And if any far flung relatives were trying to look for her, Tsukauchi 's search into the missing persons database would have scrounged up something. Gojo has spent the last few days earning her trust and assuring her he wasn 't scared of her or her quirk, slowly getting her to open up to him, and helping her come out of her shell and experience the world. Maybe after Chisaki and his entire organization are behind bars and the whole quirk-erasing bullet blows over they 'll find a wonderful, perfectly well-adjusted family to adopt her ' but for all that he reassured her he 's not scared of her quirk, it

is

a terrifying quirk. Especially in the hands of someone too young to understand how to use it. Gojo 's Infinity makes him immune, but the same can 't be said for anyone else. It 's dormant for now, but he has no idea what could set it off. He hates to say it, but it 's a liability that needs to be accounted for, no matter what ultimately happens to her.

Gojo is not in the habit of lying to himself, so he doesn 't bother with the pretense. It 's more than likely Eri will end up with him long term. It 's probably the best option for her.

But is it the best option for

him?

Is he ready for that?

Does it matter if he is or isn 't? There 's a kid who needs someone, and he 's her best bet.

Gojo has shouldered the burdens of an entire world; since the beginning of his existence he has understood the staggering responsibility he bears as the strongest, and has carried the obligations of a burdened destiny. Somehow, the idea of being solely responsible for this single small child is far more monumental a duty than any he 's ever had before. Even being nominally in charge of Tsumiki and Megumi hadn 't seemed so daunting ' although perhaps he 'd merely just been too young to truly understand the responsibilities he 'd been signing up for at the time.

Gojo closes his eyes, resting his head against the fridge while he hears Eri quietly try to coax the new cat out from where it had immediately scampered underneath the couch.

He 's been in charge of kids before. Has had the sole responsibility of their safety, their youth, their

futures

on his shoulders before. His precious little students, all bright-eyed and eager and innocent.

He 'd thought they would be fine. He was the

strongest,

after all. He 'd always be there to protect them.

He 'd been wrong.

Even the

Honored One

isn 't infallible.

That 's a lesson he 's had to learn in the worst of ways. No matter how hard he tries, he 's never enough. Not on his own.

With that in mind, he resigns himself to the daunting and monumental task he 's been mulling over in his head ever since he 'd accepted the fact he was likely Eri 's best option for long term guardianship. He can 't protect her all on his own. He needs more than just his own abilities to ensure her long term safety. She needs protection in every aspect, not just in the physical sense.

And he 's learned his lesson on not having a single contingency plan for his own demise.

While he has a moment to himself, he fishes his phone out of his pocket and speed dials Fuyumi.

'Hello? '

Her tinny voice comes through once the line connects.

'Hey, ' he says. 'What ever happened to all those toys we used to have as kids? '

'... Huh? ' She asks, blankly.

'Y 'know, just all that stuff I used to get you. The stuffed toys and the trinkets and all that. Do you still have any of them? '

'Um ' yes I think so ' There 's a few boxes of storage in the attic that would have all the stuff like that. But ' why do you ask? '

Exactly as he 'd expected. Fuyumi is pretty sentimental; he 'd known there was a good chance she 'd kept all that stuff.

'Ah ' no reason~ ' He lies, cheerfully. 'Are you home right now? '

'I actually just stepped out, ' Fuyumi reveals, hesitantly. 'Uh, Touya ' what 's this all about? '

'It 's nothing! I was just thinking about what kind of toys to get Eri, and thought some inspiration might be good. '

He can

hear

the frown across the phone line. 'Touya ' '

'Uh oh, I think Eri 's trying to stick her hand in the electrical socket! Gotta go! ' He interrupts blithely, then disconnects the call.

He turns around, to where Eri is most assuredly not doing anything of the sort. Actually, she 's plopped in the center of the room sending mournful looks at the couch, where the cat has evidently rejected her. Perfect timing, really. She looks like she could use an intervention, lest she mope around for the rest of the day.

'Hey Eri-chan, let 's leave the cat alone to get settled in, ' he says, crouching down to her height.

'Meow-san doesn 't like me anymore. ' Eri looks up at him with such dejection he wants to toss the stupid thing out the window for daring to upset her.

'He likes you plenty, ' Gojo assures her. 'He 's just scared because he 's never been here before. So why don 't we let him relax for a bit, and in the meanwhile, we get you some toys? '

Eri 's look turns wary at that. 'Toys? '

'Not new ones, ' Gojo promises. 'These are special toys! '

'... Special toys? ' She repeats, wariness bleeding into curiosity.

'Yep! My sister heard you don 't have any toys, so she said you can have her old ones! These ones are special because,

uhhhhh

, they 're vintage collectibles! ' He lies through his teeth. Luckily, Eri doesn 't seem to notice. Probably because she doesn 't even know what 'vintage collectibles '

means

with her limited six year-old vocabulary.

She's also not dismissing the idea of them right off the bat, which is also a good sign.

'What d 'you say? You wanna check them out? '

She bites her lip, casting a look back to the couch. A low, feral growl emits from the abyss below. 'Meow-san will be okay on his own? '

I 'm pretty sure Meow-san is an immortal satanic demon sent from the pits of hell just to torment me, so I think he 'll be just fine.

'Just fine, promise! '

He holds out his hand. Finally she nods reluctantly, and puts her little hand in his. 'Okay. '

//

The white-haired man '

Satoru,

he 'd asked her to call him, even though his siblings had called him Touya, and the sleepy-looking man from earlier had called him Dabi when he thought Eri wasn 't listening ' uses his magic quirk to plop them right on the front lawn of a big house. It reminds Eri a little too much of the exterior of the Shie Hassaikai compound she 's been trapped in these past few years; a stately and sprawling estate done up in traditional architecture. She stares up at it with trepidation, curling her fingers a little tighter around the man 's hand.

Even if it looks a bit scary, Eri will be fine.

Satoru is here.

And Satoru might not be a name familiar to her, but

Dabi

certainly is.

Chisaki and his subordinates would talk, when they were hurting her with those terrible experiments.

She 's heard the name Dabi before, and even if she was in too much pain to pay the conversation any real mind, she can remember the tone in which his name was mentioned. Chisaki 's men spoke of him in low and fearful tones. Chisaki himself always tried to sound as calm and controlled as he always did when he spoke of him, but there was a frisson of tension in his voice that Eri knew from experience belied his frustrations ' and his

fear.

Chisaki didn 't fear anything, which meant Dabi must be a frightening character. She knows Chisaki considers him an enemy; she knows Chisaki is wary of him. Chisaki is scary and strong. If someone as scary and strong as Chisaki is scared of someone

else '

then that must be a very scary person indeed.

But meeting Dabi in person has painted a very different picture than the frightening caricature she 'd conjured up in her head.

Satoru was ' really nice. And kind of silly. He was a bit awkward sometimes and seemed as confused about what to do with her as she was with him, but he

tried.

He was doing his best to take care of her even if he didn 't know how, and just like that old lady from the other day had said, sometimes that was really all that mattered. He cared, and he showed it, and he didn 't give up on her even when she 'd panicked and nearly slugged him in the face at that toy store.

And even if it turned out he really

was

a scary person, she didn 't mind. If Chisaki was afraid of him, that could only be a good thing. Maybe he 'd leave her alone, as long as she stuck near him.

'I actually have no idea how to get into the attic, ' Satoru remarks idly, as he slips his shoes off at the genkan in the entryway. After he 's done he crouches in front of her to help her with the laces on her own shoes. 'But it can 't be that hard, right? '

Eri doesn 't know how to answer that, so she doesn 't. That 's fine though ' she 's noticed Satoru isn 't always looking for an answer from her, sometimes he just chatters to himself. It 's nice. She likes hearing his voice, especially when she doesn 't feel pressured to respond. Satoru has a very nice voice.

They wander around the cavernous house for a few minutes, Satoru puttering around the walls and stopping at every closet, peering up at the ceiling every once in a while. Finally he comes to a stop at the end of a hallway, where a very old and unused looking bedroom rests behind a closed door. He snorts when he pushes it open, but she doesn 't think it's a reaction to all the dust that flies up with the movement.

'Of course

it 's here of all fucking places. ' He scoffs, but he doesn't sound very upset.

There 's a bit of a scuffle as he has her stand at the end of the hall as he finds a ladder and fiddles with the ceiling. With a creak and a groan and a cloud of dust that covers both the man and the ladder in powder, Satoru finds the entrance to the attic. He shakes himself off like a dog to rid himself of all the dust, laughing as he hauls Eri into his arms to cart her up the ladder. She takes the opportunity to brush off the worst of the dust still clinging to him.

'Why do we even

have

this many Christmas decorations? We 've never even celebrated Christmas! ' Satoru remarks with disbelief, once he finds the light and reveals the attic in full. 'Say, Eri-chan do you know what Christmas is? '

Eri shakes her head.

'That 's alright, I 'll teach you, ' Satoru assures her, picking his way across the mess of string lights on the floor. 'We 'll get you a cute little Christmas outfit and everything, and go see a tree lighting. It 'll be fun! Christmas cake is really good, too. And it 's only a couple weeks away! '

Eri perks up at this. She likes cakes.

She likes the thought that she 'll still be with Satoru in a couple weeks even

more.

//

For a man who had made an entire criminal empire almost entirely anonymously, Dabi is suddenly

everywhere.

He 's a regular feature on the news cycles, and has racked up the kind of celebrity status career heroes spend decades trying to cultivate, with the fan club size to match. As Hawks had disturbingly reminded him the other day ' he

is

a very good-looking young man. It 's hardly unsurprising that the public would take so well to him. They love a young and handsome new toy to parade around the media outlets. Hawks himself is a prime example of this.

Endeavor has spent so much time hunting down every small morsel of Dabi he can find, and now he 's inescapable.

But for all that his visage is plastered onto every available news channel and all over social media, he 's still as impossible to get a hold of as always.

Trying to contact 'Pro Hero Six Eyes ' through official channels is a lesson in futility. Otheon is not taking questions on their new hero, and they 've provided little to no information on him beyond what 's already available. His 'residence ' in Otheon has been staked out by reporters for weeks now ' to the disgruntlement of all the small hamlet 's population ' but he doubts anyone had ever lived there in the first place. Otheon claims Dabi had been officially registered as one of their heroes when he had first started his crusade against Humarise. Endeavor doubts the timeline, but there 's no real way to disprove them other than his gut feeling that Dabi has never left Japanese soil until recently.

At any rate, Dabi has proven to be uncannily good at disappearing from the public eye no matter how intense the public scrutiny, and now has been no exception.

There 's not a doubt in his mind that Dabi is Touya. Not anymore. But his stance on the man still stands; he wants to see him in person, wants to hear the answers to his questions from the man himself.

No.

That 's not quite right.

Touya doesn 't owe him anything, answers least of all. That 's not what he wants from the former villain. Endeavor is a ruined, selfish man. He wants absolution, more than anything. What he wants from his son is something Touya cannot give him, because Endeavor 's sins are not his to bear. Nonetheless, he wants to see him. Drink him in with his own two eyes and personally see that he 's still alive, that he lives and breathes and continues to exist in this world.

But Touya doesn 't owe him that either.

He returns home in a somber mood.

Sir Nighteye 's briefing had been succinct and to the point, but the sheer amount of top heroes involved made it a long-winded and overly complicated affair. Even without Endeavor 's own brand of churlish input, there 'd been plenty of butting heads. Now that Eraserhead had revealed there wasn 't a hostage in need of immediate rescuing, some heroes thought they were rushing ahead too recklessly. Others, like Fatgum, had pointed out time was the essence even without a hostage involved, as long as those bullets were being sold on the streets. Shouto and the other interns had listened quietly but eagerly, absorbing their first look into a large hero task force like this. Endeavor had made sure to go over every point brought up in the meeting in detail as he drove Shouto back to school. His youngest had protested the idea of it, stating his fellow students would all be taking the train back together, but he 'd settled down when it became clear Endeavor was using the time as a learning experience for his young son and not some awkward attempt at making amends.

Shouto had good counter points, but he was young yet. He struggled to see the bigger picture when he was focused on a villain he 'd singled out ' much like Endeavor himself at that age. Shouto wanted Overhaul behind bars as soon as possible, likely a reaction to the harrowing encounter his fellow classmate, Midoriya, had gone through with the villain. Endeavor could agree to an extent; he 'd proved himself to be a dangerous villain who needed to be dealt with swiftly. But the other heroes who cautioned against an immediate assault weren 't wrong either. They still didn 't know enough about the operation to know if they 'd be shutting it down effectively; the last thing anyone wanted was another Kamino Incident. Countless deaths that could have been avoided with better planning.

Shouto might not like him, but he values his opinion as a hero and is willing to defer to his expertise and greater breadth of experience.

Their relationship is still shaky and fraught with tension. It 's a laughable presumption to even consider what he has with his youngest a 'relationship ' of any kind at all. Shouto barely tolerates his presence, and the only reason he

does

is because Endeavor is still useful to him. He doesn 't delude himself into thinking Shouto would voluntarily subject himself to his presence for any other reason.

Still, it 's more than he 'd had before.

Yet it still feels like not enough.

Shouto had barely even acknowledged him when he 'd dropped him off at the U.A. gates, only giving him a nod in his direction and a promise to consider his viewpoint on the case. Then he 'd closed the door and left without a second glance, not even the hint of a farewell. Not that Endeavor had expected as much. Shouto getting in a car with him at all is progress. Nonetheless he feels a bit maudlin about it all as he pulls back up to his house; repairing his relationships with his children was a daunting and likely impossible task. He 's uncertain if it 's even worth the effort of trying, or if he 'd only hurt them more in the process.

He stills when he reaches for the front door, only to find it already unlocked.

That in and of itself isn 't cause for alarm ' sometimes Fuyumi forgets to lock the door behind her.

But the shoes in the genkan are most assuredly not his daughter 's.

A matching pair of sneakers crowd innocuously at the mouth of the entryway. One pair is bewilderingly ' tiny, patterned and rainbow colored, obviously belonging to a child. The other is an identical pattern, but in black and white, and obviously belongs to an adult.

He stares down at them in bewilderment.

The child 's shoes, he has no guesses. The adult shoes are too big to be Fuyumi 's, but could still very well be Natsuo 's. But why is Natsuo with a child?

As he slips off his own shoes, he hears the low murmur of voices from someone else in the house, muffled with distance. Locating the source of the voices is easy enough; the moment he turns the corner he spots a ladder propped in the middle of the hallway, leading up to the entrance to the attic. He boggles at that for a moment; he didn 't even realize he

owned

a ladder. It probably lived in the gardening shed, where only the landscapers ever made use of it. Beyond just the ladder, he 'd honestly forgotten he 'd even had an attic. What exactly is Natsuo even doing up there?

He heads closer, voices getting clearer as he crosses the hall.

'This one 's pretty cute, right? It 's a pokemon. Do you know what pokemon is? '

There 's a muffled response.

'Seriously!? Okay, we have gotta fix that. '

Endeavor frowns as he comes to a halt at the bottom of the ladder, peering up into the shadowy attic. That doesn 't sound like Natsuo.

He has no idea what he 's expecting to see when he climbs up the ladder into the attic proper. The whole scenario has been so bewildering he had no time for introspection. Did he expect it to be Natsuo, perhaps somehow roped into helping with one of Fuyumi 's students? Roped into impromptu babysitting by one of his friends? Or maybe it wasn 't Natsuo at all, but a friend of his, or Fuyumi 's, that they 'd asked for an arbitrary and convoluted favor that involved going to their residence and fishing around their storage? It hadn 't even crossed his mind to assume it was an intruder. No intruder would politely leave their shoes in the genkan.

At any rate, Endeavor wasn 't entirely sure what he 'd expected to find when he arrived home that day ' but his assumed-dead son turned infamous international superhero was emphatically

not it.

'Touya, ' he gasps, his heart stuttering in his chest as he takes in the scene before him.

It seems impossible. Too absurd to be true. But his eyes aren 't deceiving him. It really is Touya.

Here. In the house.

In the attic, in fact, with boxes strewn haphazardly around him and upturned contents spilling over the dusty floor. The place is so messy he almost misses the fact that Touya is not alone. His companion is a young girl in a soft mint-colored dress that has her blending in with all their unused Christmas decorations sprawled across the dusty floor, watching him with wary eyes where Touya doesn 't even bother with looking up to meet his gaze. This must be the mystery owner of the tiny rainbow shoes, he thinks, hysterically.

' ' Touya, ' he says again, voice raspy with disbelief. 'You 're ' you 're

here. '

Finally, Touya speaks, pawing through what appears to be an old storage box of clothes. 'Huh. I 'm shocked you 're actually home, old man. What are you doing here? '

Endeavor balks at him in utter incredulity. What is

he

doing here? The gall of this fucking child, of all people, asking him this question, has him almost expiring on the spot. He 's so confounded he 's at a loss for words. He just sputters incomprehensibly, unable to even form a proper sentence, let alone give voice to his disbelief.

'Who 's that? ' The little girl asks, staring at him as if

he 's

the one who shouldn 't be here.

'Oh, this grouchy old bastard? ' Replies Touya, still distracted by his rummaging. 'Just call him grandpa. '

Endeavor chokes.

He swings aside to look at her properly, truly focusing on the girl herself and not the categorically surreal circumstances that have had her appearing in his attic. She has big doe eyes, sparkling like rubies, and shiny, wintry hair that curls down her back in unruly waves. The texture of it reminds him vaguely of a younger Fuyumi, when his daughter still wore her hair long and rarely brushed it. And her face ' it 's soft and heart-shaped like Fuyumi 's too. Like Rei 's. Like Touya 's own face.

Grandpa '

He stares, aghast, as he says slowly;

'Touya. '

'Hmm? ' His eldest still hasn 't deigned to look up from his storage box.

'Who ' who is this child? '

He blinks down at the girl. Warily, she blinks back. Then she 's hauled off her feet as Touya straightens up and props her on his hip. His grin is wide and positively evil as he beams at Endeavor.

'What do you mean, who is this child? She 's mine of course! I birthed her from my own body! '

Endeavor is fairly certain his soul just left his body.

(omake)

Gojo Satoru's rules for cat ownership:

1.

The cat is not allowed on the furniture.

2.

Alright, the cat can go on the furniture, just not the kitchen counter.

3.

OK, the cat can go on the kitchen counter too, just not when I'm preparing food.

4.

Fine, the cat can go wherever it wants, whenever it wants, as long as it doesn't swat me in the face at 5:30 in the morning demanding to be fed.

5.

The cat will be fed at 5:30 in the morning.