Chapter Text
Dabi knew this was a terrible idea.
The moment the entirety of the Commission had called him in and explained that they wanted him, the no. 8 ranked hero, to infiltrate the League of Villains, he had been half tempted to flip them off and walk out.
He had not, of course.
That was the problem with letting people do favors for you. Eventually, sooner or later, they would ask you for something in return. And he owed the commission a lot. They had picked him up after he had run away from home and given him a new identity and a chance to live away from Endeavor’s abuse.
Of course, it was very much like trading one gilded cage for another, but Dabi considered it a worthwhile sacrifice. In exchange for his continued cooperation, the Commission kept his mother out of the hospital and mostly happy. She was living under another name in a nice apartment in Mustafu, safe and mostly happy and with her husband none the wiser. It was not like he had bothered to visit her in the hospital in years, anyway.
The Commission also regularly sent personnel to the Todoroki household under the guise of “safety check-ups” which was another condition Dabi had requested when he first agreed to work for them. The unpredictability of these events forced Endeavor to remain constantly on guard, which drastically limited the amount of damage he could do to Dabi’s siblings.
And the best part was, the Commission’s interference meant that Shouto, Fuyumi, and Natsuo got to secretly visit Rei once a month which, while not ideal, allowed the latter to stay connected with the rest of her family.
So yes, the Commission had done much for Dabi, and in return he played the perfect little hero for them. Of course, he did not do everything they asked of him. For one, he still hated interacting with most people and actively avoided the media. The Commission had been very unhappy with this at first, until someone had pointed out that his “dark and mysterious” aura had actually been helping his popularity, quite a lot. After that the Commission left him alone mostly, though they still insisted on giving the public regular updates on his activities. And for some reason the public ate it up. Hence why he had reached the top ten so quickly.
All of this was why he did not immediately walk out of the room when the President had presented the plan.
“Sorry, can you repeat that?”
The President didn’t exactly sigh, but it was a close thing. “At the Kamino battle, we were in a hurry to secure the safety of the kidnapped victims. As a result, we didn’t have adequate information and we misread our opponents’ capabilities.
“We now know that the league is a bigger threat than we anticipated. In order to destroy them for good, we need information, especially on those modified humans. That is why we are asking you to infiltrate them.”
Dabi rolled his eyes. They were asking him, as if he had a choice in this.
It was a familiar dance. The Commission would make some “request” of him and Dabi would snark back or outright refuse. Then, the Commission would subtly remind him of the hold they had over him, never outright threatening his family of course but implying it in every other way that they could, until Dabi finally acquiesced.
Well at least it meant that Dabi could sometimes weasel something out of them.
“You act like I have a choice in this,” he drawled, picking at his staples absentmindedly. It never failed to unsettle people, and despite his handlers’ best efforts he could see the slight twitches of the brow.
The President said nothing. That was another intimidation tactic. Honestly, Dabi was so sick of all their little mind games. Some days it all felt like a giant game, like the Commission was playing chess but with all of society as the pieces. As if heroes were nothing more than pawns and villains were nothing but objectives to take down. As if people’s lives didn’t matter unless they somehow contributed to the game.
“Well in that case, I refuse,” Dabi said flippantly, just because he could. Silently, he counted down the number of seconds in his head. Just as he reached zero, one of the lower ranking board members spoke up.
“That is… unfortunate. You are aware, of course, that this refusal changes the circumstances of your employment with us and thus the agreements we have in place regarding your family.”
And there it was, the threat that they didn’t even bother hiding at this point. Dabi rolled his eyes once more. You would think after all this time they would at least try to be a bit more creative, but no.
“Fine. I’ll do it. But I want Shouto to live with me full time.” This was the part where Dabi made an unreasonably large demand that the Commission immediately shot down before acquiescing to Dabi’s next, much more reasonable demand. Even though they could fulfill the first demand if they really wanted to. It was as if the Commission was built to make him suffer.
“That will be… difficult,” the President spoke, as predicted. “Especially seeing as the public has no idea of your connection to Endeavor.”
“Move him to the UA dorms then. Pull whatever strings, or make up some excuse, I don’t care. And transfer his guardianship to Natsuo.”
“That can be arranged,” the President said slowly. As if everyone in the room didn’t already know that that was what Dabi had been aiming for the entire time. Dabi resisted the urge to scratch at his staples once more. It wouldn’t do to make them all uncomfortable after he had just gotten what he wanted. Just take whatever small victories you can get.
“So, about this case… ”
That was how Dabi found himself in the back alleys on the seedier side of Musutafu, poking around for some sign of the man he was supposed to contact. For once, he was thankful for his scarred face and rusted staples. Sure his “villainous” appearance was usually a detriment to his work, but here in the underbelly of the town he fit right in.
On a better day, Dabi might’ve gone for subterfuge and subtlety. The Commission had certainly trained him in it. But he really wasn’t in the mood, and besides if he wanted the League to take him seriously he needed to draw attention.
As the night crawled on however, Dabi began to grow impatient. Already he had interrogated over a dozen villains for any information about the League, but it seemed that everyone was just as uninformed as he was. Dabi’s fingers itched to burn something properly— to cremate— in his frustration, but years of finely ingrained impulse control held him back.
As he tossed aside his thirtieth victim of the night (minimal injuries, he was a hero even with this sham of a mission), Dabi let out a growl of frustration. “Why is this so fucking hard? How the hell am I supposed to even find him?”
“You know, Hot Stuff, if you wanted me so badly you could’ve just asked.”
Dabi froze in his tracks. Slowly, he turned around. The alleyway he had chosen as his interrogation spot was tall and narrow, and Dabi quickly located the source of the voice.
“Bloodwing.” You’re not my contact. Dabi kept his face neutral, but inside he was reeling as he studied the man before him. It was difficult to make out his features in the low lighting, but the outline of wings was unmistakable. The man in question lounged casually on the railing of the fire escape, his legs dangling some twenty feet above the dirty ground below.
“Ah, is that what they’re calling me these days?” The villain’s posture was relaxed but Dabi could see the thin traces of tension that belied the man’s casual voice. This was someone who was groomed for war, who could be ready to fight for his life at a moment’s notice.
“Is that not your name?” Dabi asked. That was the name used on official Commission correspondence at least.
“I much prefer Hawks, if you would,” the villain said with an exaggerated pout. Interesting, that was the name used by the media whenever they reported on the winged villain’s crimes. That was weird, usually the Commission’s sources were far more accurate. Dabi filed that bit of information away for later. The bird’s voice took on a predatory tone as he continued, “So anyway, what happened to make the number eight hero come all the way out here looking for me?”
Dabi hesitated. The Commission’s original plan was to find the villain Spinner, who according to their sources was the League’s official recruiter. However, the man was exceedingly difficult to track down. And here was another known affiliate of the League right in front of him. Dabi was not about to look a gift horse in the mouth. He improvised.
“I want to join the league,” he replied tersely, wondering if he had hesitated for just a bit too long when the villain did not immediately respond. He reached for his quirk, ready to unleash it at a moment’s notice if things went downhill.
“Oh?” The villain’s tone was far too amused as he jumped down from the ledge, landing lightly with just a single stroke of his wings. Even in the dim lighting Dabi had to admit they were beautiful— a vibrant crimson, the color of fresh blood. “Is this the part where I’m supposed to ask why? I don’t really care to be honest but I’ll humor you this one time. Go on, then.”
I’ve barely even started and this mission is already a complete mess. Still, Hawks hadn’t actually attacked him yet. That gave Dabi a glimmer of hope.
Unfortunately, the Commission’s made-up backstory wouldn’t cut it here. It was too formulaic and predictable, some bullshit about being disillusioned with hero society and all that. It had been specially tailored to fool someone like Spinner, but Bloodwing— Hawks, he supposed— was a completely different story. He was an enigma; no one knew exactly who he was or where he had come from; only that he had decimated an entire branch of the HPSC some time before dropping off the grid. He had reemerged just before the events of Kamino Ward, preaching Stain’s will and leading the attack on the U.A. students.
Unknown villains were dangerous. Especially those with well-defined ideals. And very few could say they took on the HPSC and escaped completely unscathed. For the first time, Dabi looked directly into the other’s eyes. They were carefully blank, orbs of molten gold that revealed absolutely nothing. Somewhere, hidden behind lazy movements and an easy smile, was a merciless man armed with razor-sharp intellect and unparalleled fighting capabilities.
No, Dabi thought as he continued to study the other man closely, this would not be an easy man to fool.
“Well?” the villain prompted once more, twirling a sharpened feather in one hand and looking almost bored. “What tragic backstory did the Commission feed you before they threw you into this suicide mission?”
Dabi couldn’t tell if Hawks had actually read him so easily, or if the other man was bluffing. He still had yet to make a move though, so at least he was willing to hear Dabi out.
Dabi settled himself into the role he had prepared for this mission. Some things would have to be changed but Dabi could deal with that later. Right now it was about convincing the man in front of him.
Slowly, he let a manic grin stretch across his face. He had practiced this part in the mirror before, and he knew it made him look more menacing. As much as he hated to admit it, his scars really helped sell the image. With a dramatic shrug, he started talking.
“Well, how does it go?” He slipped into the role easily. “Once upon a time there was a kid who grew up under the shadow of his father. He did everything he could to make his father proud, but he was never good enough,” Dabi let his voice grow bitter. He didn’t even have to fake this part. The best lies were rooted in truth, after all. “Well the boy grew desperate to leave, to get out from under his father’s thumb in any way he could. But he can’t, because his father is too powerful. Until one day the boy snaps. He unleashes his quirk and burns everything, himself in the process. Tossed out, broken and scarred, he gets picked up by a kind stranger on the street. Someone who acts like they care about him. And when that person offers to make him a hero, well it's not like the boy has anywhere better to go.
“So the kid starts training to be a hero. Only to realize that he traded one cage for another. Everything is the same, and hero society is a lie. They couldn’t stop his father from hurting him, and the same people who were supposed to protect citizens beat him into the ground, day after day, until he became the perfect little hero. The kid learned to hide his resentment, but the feelings never left him. He slowly bided his time. He stayed under the radar as much as he could, promising himself that one day he would get his revenge on everyone who had ever hurt him.
“So you see, birdie, me wanting to join the League is a purely selfish thing. I don’t really care at all about any of you, and I don’t plan to. But I saw what you guys did at Kamino and well, I figured we can help each other. I can give you all kinds of intel on hero society: strengths, weaknesses, patrol routes, anything you want. And you can help me get the revenge I crave. What do you say?”
At this point Dabi was pretty deep into his villain persona, smiling and letting his scars stretch his face at all the right places. It was surprisingly easy— too easy— but Dabi did not let himself dwell on that thought.
The story he had told was a highly edited version of his past. He did not mention that his father was a hero, for one, and he also exaggerated a bit when talking about the Commission’s training. It was bad of course, but nothing compared to what Endeavor used to put him through. He had shifted some timelines and magnified his bitter feelings. But everything else was true, and it sounded like plausible motivation to become a villain.
*Clap.*
*Clap.*
*Clap.*
“I’ll admit, I’m surprised,” the villain drawled, clapping slowly. “That actually sounded pretty convincing. Too bad I know all about you, Touya Todoroki.” He said the last two words casually, almost lovingly, like a caress.
Dabi didn’t even notice, too busy inwardly panicking. No one was supposed to know that name. That was his deal with the Commission. Wipe his identity so his father couldn’t find him. How did Hawks know? More importantly, how many people knew? Was his birth identity compromised to the entire League? To the entire villain underground?
Hawks continued, seemingly unaware or perhaps uncaring of Dabi’s inner turmoil. “I should kill you, you know. Son of the number two hero and a top ten hero by himself. I’ll admit, I don’t buy your story at all.” The man paused, cocking his head and grinning at him. Later, when Dabi wasn’t frantically mapping out his escape plan in his head, he would think about how unfair the world was. How did a villain and murderer have such an easy, innocent smile? But for now he barely even registered what the man was saying. “I don’t want to though. So let’s see how far you’re willing to go, hero.”
Turning around, Hawks carelessly tossed a feather— the same one he had been playing with before— over his shoulder. Instead of floating to the ground as gravity dictated it should, it sharpened and headed straight for Dabi’s neck. The hero didn’t even have time to react.
Just before it stabbed him straight through the neck, the feather suddenly softened, falling harmlessly on Dabi’s collarbone.
“Keep that with you,” Hawks said without looking back. “I’ll be in contact.”
Then he took off. A moment later he had completely disappeared into the night sky. The only sign that he had ever been there at all was the feather that was still resting on Dabi’s neck, fluttering harmlessly in the soft evening breeze.
Dabi let out the breath he did not realize he was holding. Then, as gently as he could, he pulled the feather off his skin. It put up a token show of resistance before it relented, allowing Dabi to stuff it into the pocket of his jacket. He considered burning it outright, but dismissed the idea. As much as Hawks claimed to not trust him, the man hadn’t tried to kill him on sight. That had to mean something.
He would need to report all of this to the Commission, of course, but the mission was still on. And as long as he continued to follow their orders the Commission would follow through with the favors he asked for. That was all he really cared about.
But if this mission could be considered dangerous before, it was downright suicidal now. The Commission would wheedle him for any piece of information he could potentially get his hands on, and Hawks would no doubt be watching his every move. He would need to continue being the public’s no. 8 hero while convincing the villains he was actually on their side. There was no telling what they would ask of him to prove his loyalty. And there would be no room for error.
In other words, Dabi was completely and utterly fucked.