….
The lift carried back Dabi to the faculty residential sector.
When the doors slid open, the stark contrast of atmosphere was very noticeable even for the children.
And his family was already settled in there–
Himiko had finally surrendered to her tiredness, as she fell asleep; she was snoring with her mouth slightly open, her arms still locked around the ears of her stuffed bunny bag.
Eri was sitting cross-legged beside her, turning the pages of a picture book about marine life, while Recovery Girl sat nearby in an armchair, watching the pair over with a surprisingly peaceful expression.
At the counter, Rumi was leaning back against the barstool, her long legs kicked up on the edge of a stool. She held a pastry box with one hand, a half-eaten custard horn balanced precariously between her teeth.
The moment the elevator bell chimed, her long white ears snapped toward the foyer.
"A few more seconds..." Rumi mumbled through a mouthful of pastry, flicking a stray crumb from her chin. "...and I would've given your slice to the vacuum cleaner."
"Try it and I will shave your tail." Dabi muttered, slipping off his work coat and tossing it over the back of the entryway rack.
Eri immediately snapped the book shut and scrambled to her feet, until she bumped right into his knee.
"Is the sparkly boy going to sleep now, Papa?" she asked in gentle whisper, keeping her voice low so she wouldn't wake her sister.
Dabi stopped, looking down at the small girl. He reached down, scooped her up with one arm.
"Yeah, bean..." He murmured, his rough thumb gently tapping the tip of her smooth horn. "He's got his blanket, and now he's gonna sleep, wash his face, then get to his chores like the rest of the brats."
"Did you scold him with the dragon face?" Eri asked earnestly, leaning her forehead against his shoulder.
"Just a little." Dabi smiled. "Enough so he doesn't forget where he sits."
From the armchair, Recovery Girl picks up her cane to push herself up.
Her eyes lingered on Dabi, taking in his grown up frame to the boy she used to know. He really had come a long way.
"The transport for the Mineta boy has already cleared the outer security gate." the old woman said, her voice softer than usual. "His vitals remained completely steady during the handoff. The local precinct received him without question, and his mother has already signed the release forms.
"As far as the public registry is concerned, the boy suffered a psychological breakdown and withdrew voluntarily to the countryside. Not a single file mentions the League or your daughter."
Dabi gave a curt nod. "Keep it that way."
"You did a good thing, Dabi." Recovery Girl added, turning toward the corridor leading to the staff living quarters.
She paused at the corner, glancing back over her shoulder with a fond shake of her head. "Though heaven knows your bedside manner could use a few decades of practice. Put those children to bed. You have a long day tomorrow."
"Don't remind me." Dabi grunted.
As the old nurse's footsteps faded down the hall, Rumi swallowed the last of her pastry, hopped off the barstool, and stretched her arms over her head. Her white hair tumbled freely around her shoulders as she reached over to scoop Himiko into her arms.
"Bedtime for the guard bunny." Rumi murmured, tapping Himiko's little nose. She looked over at Dabi. "You good, big guy?"
Dabi looked down at Eri, whose head was already resting heavily against his chest, her eyelashes fluttering as sleep finally claimed her.
"Yeah." He murmured, letting out a breath, and turning toward their quarters down the hall. "I am good… Time to close up shop."
….
….
The following morning came–
By 6:00 AM, the ground beneath the southern boundary of the U.A. campus was already being shifted.
Cementoss stood atop an elevated scaffolding, his stone-grey arms outstretched as massive slabs of concrete rose from the earth like monoliths. Piles of steel rebar twisted and locked into place, forming the thick, impenetrable exterior framework of the Heights Alliance dormitory blocks.
Nezu's automated fabrication units did their work in the background, snapping pre-cast living pods and reinforced blast-glass windows into the newly raised foundations.
Standing near the fence, watching the work in the morning chill, Shota Aizawa pulled his scarf higher around his neck to block the wind.
Beside him, dressed in an oversized outfit, Toshinori Yagi leaned on a wooden cane.
"Class 1-A's wing will be fully furnished by noon." Aizawa said, eyes fixed on his tablet screen. "The automated surveillance Nezu designed is already active. Once the doors lock tonight, the only way into that building is through a biometric scan cleared by either me or Dabi."
Toshinori coughed into his fist, wiping a trace of blood on a clean handkerchief before looking out toward the main gates.
"And the parents, Aizawa-kun?" Toshinori rasped softly. "Have the initial itineraries been confirmed?"
"They have." Aizawa replied, tapping the screen. "Vlad King and Midnight are covering the Class 1-B households across the southern ward. Snipe and Ectoplasm took the western districts. That leaves the most volatile households on our desk."
Aizawa pocketed the tablet and turned his head toward the paved access path.
And from there Dabi walked in.
And strapped to his belt was a standard U.A. faculty clearance ring, and in his left hand was a paper cup of hot black coffee.
"Late as usual." Aizawa muttered as Dabi reached the fence.
"The sun barely came up, Shouta. Don't test me." Dabi drawled, taking a sip from the cup and casting a flat, critical eye over the rising concrete dormitories.
He let out a low, dry whistle. "Damn will look at that. The rat actually built the underground bunkers I drew."
"He did." Toshinori said, stepping forward with a respectful bow of his head. "And it is thanks to your foresight that we have a fortress to offer these families, Young Dabi."
Dabi's left eyebrow twitched at the honorific. "Seriously? You're still calling me 'Young Dabi'? And when was the last time you ate something with actual protein? You're so skinny I am half convinced a strong gust of wind could snap you in two. How the hell are you even sitting in a car without your ribs complaining?"
Toshinori offered a weak smile. "My strength may be gone, but my duty to these children is not. If I must bow for them to come back, I will do so gladly."
"Damn, I am sure these speeches will work for the parents." Dabi nodded, tossing his empty coffee cup cleanly into a recycling bin ten feet away. "I will let you have the lead, All Might."
Aizawa handed each of them a sealed manila file.
"We split the list." Aizawa explained, his voice turning entirely professional. "All Might, you take these households with me… Uraraka, Asui, Iida, and the rest. They respect your name, and even though their families are frightened, they are reasonable. But the remaining files..."
Aizawa looked directly at Dabi.
"The Jirou household is threatening to pull Kyoka out entirely after the news about the gas attack in the forest. Bakugo's parents are already handled thanks to yesterday's scene, but Midoriya Inko still needs the official dormitory paperwork signed and verified in person. And then..." Aizawa paused, his dark eyes narrowing slightly–
"...there's the Todoroki estate."
The cold morning air seemed to drop a few degrees.
Dabi didn't flinch, as he flipped open the file in his hand, his thumb lazily tracing the edge of Shoto's student profile.
"The Todoroki house…" Dabi said flatly, shutting the folder. "Don't worry. The old man probably won't give a damn, and he knows how Hero work can escalate. And as for the siblings, I will handle them. And as for mom… well, I will handle that too…
"Shoto's moving in."
"And the others?" Toshinori asked gently. "Midoriya-shounen's mother? Young Jirou?"
"I will handle them too."
Dabi said, turning his back on the construction site and heading toward the parking lot where his dark SUV was idling under the trees.
He raised a hand in a dismissive wave over his shoulder–
"Get in your clown car and get moving, All Might. If I have to spend my whole afternoon trying to convince parents, I am locking the school gates and leaving you on the curb."
.
….
[To be continued…]
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